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#roaming in solitude
jumpneoshoots · 2 years
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West Pennine Views
Jan2122
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unsettlingcreature · 1 year
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this is going to take so long but I'm committed to it now
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sapphiressmoke · 4 months
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Outlander I
Summary: She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader.
Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut
Word Count: 2.6K
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2024 AC Kings Landing
So this was the magical Kings Landing? Once the vast and lively city was now a place of desolation, solitude and history. It had been like this ever since the burning in 305 A.C between two Queens. You read about how it was a horrible event, many innocent people lost their lives… Even the two Queens. Since that moment, no more Targaryens roamed Westeros. It was now a place of history and learning. Most teachers brought their students here to see what they were being taught. Some parents dragged their kids here to learn of their heritage.
You were here for the first reason.
Being in your second year of Vale University, you were studying History and Literature. What were you going to with that degree? You have no idea but at least you were enjoying yourself… For the most part. “The Red Keep took many years to complete. Three reigns to be exact. What started on Aegon’s High Hill names Aegonfort. King Aegon the First used this fort as his seat during the conquest, housing the impeccable Iron Throne. Though it was destroyed in the battle of Kings Landing, paintings portrayed this throne as huge and intimidating.” Your group followed your professor as she guided everyone at the base of what the humongous Keep used to be. You looked around, red brick scattered over the floor. You mind raced as you thought of how these bricks were over 2000 years old, millions of people have touched them and now they were scattered all over the dirt floor. “It isn’t said when but at some point after the Conquest, the King ordered the destruction of the Fort and the construction of the Red Keep began. It was said that Aegon requested the castle be built with red rock to remind people of the fire he roasted and the blood he shed of his enemies, so whenever King’s Landing looked up they’d see the price of defiance.”
Your professor continued to talk but the sound of nature around you drowned it out. The sound of buzzing getting louder in your ear, getting louder and louder. “Ugh! You don’t hear that?” You brought your finger to your ears and tried wiggling it around to see if there was anything there.
“Hear what?” Your friend, Talia, said as she leaned in.
“That stupid buzzing sound. It won’t stop.” You groaned as you continued with your ear.
Your friend gave you a weird look. “I just think you’re going crazy. There is nothing.”
The buzzing softened and turned into a soft whisper, softer than wind. “Y/N… Darling… Y/N.”
You whipped your head back, trying to find the source of the noise. “Please told me heard that!” Before Talia could respond, your professor spoke faster. “Is there something you would like to add, Miss Y/N?”
Your face went beat red from embarrassment. “No ma’am… Sorry.” You said sheepishly.
“Thank you. Now where was I? Ah yes. The start of the fall of the Targaryens, it started when…” You started to zone out and looked back behind you, trying to figure out where the whisper came from. From the bottom of the hill, you spotted a man sporting an eyepatch, long silver hair and cladded in leather. He had his arm extended out towards you, as if he was waiting for you to come and grab it, calling you to run away with him but just as fast as you spotted him, he disappeared.
You felt your arm being grabbed and a hand stroke your upper arm. You turned towards Talia, who wore a worried look. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “Yea… Yes. I’m good.” You grasped her hand that was on your upper arm. “Let’s just get this tour over with. It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”
“You got that right.” She agreed. “But I heard that the Kingswood, which is just behind the hotel, is just as creepy. Maybe even haunted!”
128 AC Kings Landing
“Mother, please tell me I do not need to go to this hunt. There are better things I can do with my time.” The One-Eyed Prince has been trying for days to stay at the Keep, not wanting to waste a morning travelling to the Kingswood just for a hunt that he did not want to participate in.
The Queen sighed at her son, pushing a silver strand away from his stoic face. “Aemond… ‘Tis for Jaehaerys and Jaehaeras name day. Your brother wants to do a grand celebration for them. Especially for Jaehaerys.”
He rolled his one eye. “We all know that it’s an excuse for him to drink away… With reason this time.” He looked up at his mother. “Will father be coming?”
“The Maesters will assess The Kings health before letting us know but I do doubt that he will be able to join with the amount of pain he has been in.” The Queen replied. It has been no secret that The Kings has been declining the past couple of years. Decaying flesh, rotting teeth and constant pain. Drunk day in and out on milk of the poppy.
“If he does not go…” He tried to think of a reason to stay but was stump. “If he does not go then I shall stay here and watch over him.” Lies.
Alice by let out a chuckle. “You are quite the convincing liar, Aemond, but the Maesters will be here to aid your father in anything.” She walked away from her son and looked at the window, looking upon the people of Kings Landing. “I know you would much rather be here, reading in the library and training outside but it will do you some good to be away for a bit. Breath the good air of Kingswood.” She turned around to face her third child. “Plus, Ser Criston Cole shall be joining us if you ever do need to scratch the intense to train.”
Aemond rubbed his face and groaned. “I guess you are right, mother. But I will not ride with Aegon in the carriage. He’s an imbecile and will most likely throw up from all of the wine he has drank.”
“Thank you.” Alicent smiled. “You may ride with with me and Ser Criston. Halaena will be with the children and nurse while Aegon rides with Ser Arryk and Erryk as it seems they are the only ones that can deal with his shenanigans.”
“As I mentioned before… Imbecile.”
The night passed swiftly and once the sun started to rise and was on the horizon line, the Royal Family begun their travels to the Kingswood. Even though Aemond was never a talkative person, worsening after the incident with his eye, he seemed even more lost in his thoughts than usual. He stared out the window, sitting across from his mother who watched him intensely. “What is on your mind, sweet son?”
Aemond continued to look outside the window but sighed. “I had this weird dream. Was just flashes of images. Nothing clear. There was this woman… She seemed lost, searching for help. It sounded like she was calling out to me but the way she dressed did not seem normal.”
The Queen stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “Are you a Dragon Dreamer now?” She joked, causing a small smile to break on the princes face. “Dreams have many meanings. Perhaps it’s just a bad dream from the stress you put on yourself. Free your mind for the next couple of days. Perhaps even participate in the hunt.”
The hunt that went on in the Kingswoods happened every couple of years, usually to celebrate a names day for a royal child. The White Hart was usually the main goal of the hunt but any animal was game. “And if I were to meet the White Hart, would that not be a sign that I should be the King over my buffoon of a brother?” It was quite well known that Aegon did not desire to be King, fought against everything Even fighting with his Grand Father and Mother saying that it was his Half Sisters birthright but all of his complaints were going to a deaf ear. Aemond wished to rule. He was fit to rule and it was simple: he rode the largest dragon in all of Westeros, he excelled in combat and studied on the history and politics of his family and of Westeros but it would not go to him unless everyone in front of him died.
This was a conversation he had with his mother too often but his question was answered with silence. That was how the rest of the carriage ride went. Silence. The dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Who was this girl? What was she doing? Who was she to him?
Within the next couple of hours, Lords and Ladies and the Royals arrived in Kingswood. The air still cold with the mornings breath. Everything was set up for them to place clothing, tables… Everything. The children were running about, screaming playfully with each other. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera came running towards Aemond, crashing into his legs. “Hi Uncle Aemond!” They squealed.
He looked down at his niece and nephew, rubbing the back of their heads before pushing them back on their way. “Hello you two.”
“Time travels back and is protected by the White King.” Helaena whispered into the cold air of the morning, staring at Aemond from across the way.
Aemond looked up to make eye contact with Halaena, seeing her lips move but not making out what she had said. He cocked his head to the side, deciding to walk towards his sister to see what she had said. She didn’t seem to realize that Aemond was by her side before he squeezed her hand. “What was that, good sister?” Helaena looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Only Time can tell you… Only Time.”
The rest of day went on eventfully. The men prepared for the hunt while the women gossiped as they ate cake. Of course Alicent chose not to participate in the gossip. She could not bother to hear anymore about Rhaenyra, her bastard sons and how great they are. She decided to watch her grand-children run about. Aegon was nowhere to be found, most likely already drunk in his tent, Helaena chose to rest in her tent as the carriage ride took a lot out of her and Aemond sat with Criston Cole as they sharpened their swords, getting ready for the hunt. She stared around her and for a slight moment, she would think her life was perfect. She had her children and her grand-children around her but then she remembers that she is practically ruling the Seven Kingdoms, her husband was dying and she was alone in the world.
2024 AC Kingswood
You slipped on your black slip dress, continuing to argue with your friend in the hotel room. “You don’t get it, Talia! There is something calling to me out there. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. It’s been going on ever since we entered Kings Landing.” The buzzing was constant, the whispering was constant and the flashes of that man were at every corner.
Talia sat on the bed, her eyes following you as you continued to pace around the room. “I’m not saying you’re crazy but you sound crazy, Y/N. A silver haired man with only one eye? Listen to yourself!”
You groaned and you pulled yourself into a ball. “I know what I sound like!” You stood back up and waved your arms around. “But this… This place is weird. There has been so many deaths and apparently fucking magic. There is something going on.” You grabbed your black shawl from your luggage and pulled in over your shoulders. “And I am going to figure it out.” You pointed to the woods. “I’m going to go in those stupid woods and try to find something. I don’t what I will try to find but I will know what it is when I see it.”
Your friend gave you a shocked look, standing up quickly and grabbed your arm. “Okay now I’m saying that you are crazy! There’s boars… Bears in those woods! You could die! What would your mom do if you die?”
You ripped your arm from her grasp. “Well she always knew I would die in a stupid way. Tell her I love her. And before you ask, no you can’t come. You’ll be the person to let the teacher know that I’m gone. If I’m not back before the next tour tomorrow morning, you can go all out and tell everyone I’m missing. Okay?”
You saw the perplexed look she wore in her face before answering. “Fine. Fine! If you die… Ugh!”
You put on your pair of shoes, grabbed your flashlight and placed it your bag before heading out. You stood in front of the forest and sighed, were you really this stupid? Yes, yes you were. You took one last look at the hotel before you made your way into the dark, insect infected forest… Gods you were dumb.
It had already been a few hours at this point, you were tired, you were hungry and you still had no idea what you were looking for. You kept hearing animal noises surrounding you and you were terrified. What if a wild boar chased you or a bear mauled you to death? What if you died of dehydration. How many days does it take to die or dehydration or hunger?
Suddenly the aura around you shifted and the whispering begun again. ‘You’re so close, Y/N. Continue.’ It was a man’s voice. It was so clear. ‘Continue straight, My Love, we’ll be together soon.’ The buzzing began and it only got louder as you continued walking straight. The further you walked, the higher the grass got. It was tickling your calves. It was as if a flash of light opened your eyes when all of the sudden a bunch of tall stones stood tall in front of you, being illuminated by the direct moonlight. The aura surrounding it was calling to you to come closer. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” You beamed with excitement.
The buzzing only got louder as you approached the Stones. The high grass tickled your calves, leaving tiny water droplets on your skin. The buzzing sounded as if it was whispering your name, soft as wind. “Y/N… Y/N…”. It only drew you closer.
The Stones had this silver and golden aura surrounding it. Were you the only one that could sense it? Were you the only one that could hear it? See it? Your thoughts were racing as you stood in front of the tall Stone. You raised your right hand to touch it, as if that was what it was telling you to do. The only thing you could do. For a moment you hesitated, wondering what you were doing, why were you here but it just kept calling out. “Y/N… Y/N…”
You let out a long breath and pressed your palm flat against the rough texture. Within the moment, all sound seized to exist around her, life was dark and as soon as it disappeared, everything reappeared.
128 AC Kingswood
You blinked your eyes fast, letting out a shaky breath. You stumbled backwards and the world wasn’t as you just saw. There were more trees surrounding you. The woods seemed to be more lively than before. “Oh Gods, what did I do.”
From back at the camp, Helaena felt the shift in the air. “Welcome home, Time.” Helaena smiled.
———————————————
SOOO what do we think? It’s only getting started and I’m so excited to see where this goes.
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leclerc-hs · 6 months
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do i wanna know? - cl16
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pairing: brother'sbff!charles x gasly!reader summary: in which you consider vacation with your family and brothers friends torture OR you fuck your brother's bff on his yacht warnings: 18+, smut under the cut, badly translated French (pls correct me!), NOT PROOFREAD (if there’s mistakes let me know please!!!!) word count: 3.5k author's note: had so much fun writing this honestly. could honestly picture myself writing more about brother's bff charles. I feel like sneaking around is sooooo fun and makes it hotter. LOL. let me know your thoughts!!! xoxo love u all. ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ . ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
IT HAS BEEN one week of pure torture. At least, that’s how you explained it as you texted your best friend. To which she responded, ‘torture and vacation don’t belong in the same sentence’.
You rolled your eyes, a wry smile playing on your lips as you contemplated her obliviousness. If only she knew! A full week spent in Charles’ company – scratch that – a mostly shirtless Charles, had left your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, unable to find their way back to coherence. 
“How could you be so stupid! Idiota!” You could hear the constant whining of your mother echoing in your ears, emanating from the dinette area of the yacht. Her complaints were like a relentless assault on your sun-kissed skin. Although “sun-kissed” was an understatement; you were borderline burned but would never dare to admit it.
“Maman, je vais bien!” I’m fine! You retorted, your voice carrying a hint of exasperation. With a sigh, you made your way back towards the bow of the yacht, where a stretch of sunbeds awaited you. Oh, thank heavens. There was absolutely no way you were returning home from this vacation without a good tan. Of course, you applied sunscreen diligently, but the sun was relentless out on the open water.
You collapsed onto the sunbed, feeling the plush cushion yield beneath the weight of your body. The sunglasses perched precariously on the bridge of your nose teetered for a moment before nearly tumbling off, saved only by a quick adjustment of your hand.
For a few moments, it was just you. You and the sun. You and the gentle breeze caressing your heated skin. You and the soothing sound of the calm waters, a tranquil melody that enveloped you in serenity. You were at peace. 
The bliss of solitude didn’t last long as you felt a shadow descend upon your body, as if a cloud had suddenly blocked out the sun.
“Mon ange, you are burned.”
Your eyes were shut behind the dark sunglasses, but you didn’t need to open them to know that voice. The voice sent a cascade of butterflies fluttering in your stomach almost instantly. Despite the burn creeping on your cheeks from the sun, a telltale blush threatened to give away the sudden rush of emotions stirring within you.
Slipping the sunglasses up onto your head, using them as a makeshift headband, allowing your eyes to connect with a mesmerizing shade of green. In that moment, time seemed to freeze as you were ensnared by the profound depth of those affectionate, verdant eyes. Green—the color that stirs a vibrant vitality within you, invoking a sense of renewal and energy. Their gaze penetrated your soul, igniting a whirlwind of emotions that swept through you like a gentle breeze through a lush, verdant meadow.
You observed as his gaze transversed your form, starting from your eyes, then descending along the curve of your nose, down to the graceful line of your neck and the delicate contours of your collarbones. His eyes lingered on your breasts for a fraction longer than usual, sending a tingle of awareness coursing through you, before swiftly returning to meet your gaze once more. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, hinting at a silent understanding or amusement.
As his gaze roamed over every curve of your body, you found yourself doing the same, unable to resist his magnetic pull. You seized the chance to drink in the sight of his shirtless body in that fleeting moment. Each droplet of water adhered to his bronzed skin like liquid diamonds, emphasizing every sinew and contour of his body. As he shook his head, droplets cascaded from his tousled locks, creating a mesmerizing dance as they landed on your burning skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. His hand moved through his hair in a fleeting gesture, as if trying to tame the wild strands, adding an irresistible allure to the scene before you.
“Elle est stupide.” 
It was as if a bucket of ice was dumped onto your body.
That voice, on the other hand, snapped you right out of the moment, your head whipping in the direction of your brother’s voice. With narrowed eyes and a quick motion, you lifted your middle finger in his direction, breaking the spell of the moment with a playful gesture of annoyance.
“Don’t be an ass, Pierre.” You mumbled softly before sitting up fully, feeling Charles drop down onto the vacant spot beside you. He turned onto his side, resting one arm under his head as he looked at you and your brother bicker. A smile tugged on his lips.
“I’m going to get the sun-tan lotion,” Your brother tossed a towel onto the other vacant spot, before retreating to wherever the lotion was. “Some of us aren’t complete morons.”
“Mon dieu,” In frustration, you grumbled to yourself before flipping over onto your stomach, burying your head into the crevice of your elbows. Your face pressed into the cushion of the sunbed as you sought solace from the annoyance. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Toujours là,” Still here. Charles whispered softly as he leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against the nape of your neck as his finger delicately grazed the curve of your lower back, tracing intricate patterns with feather-light touches. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, a subtle reminder of his presence even though you couldn’t see him. You could almost sense the heat of his gaze penetrating the miniscule fabric tied to your body, leaving an indelible mark on your skin.
You turned your head to face him, still resting on your arms under you. A smirk, that never seemed to leave his face while in your presence, was still pulled onto his lips.
“Tu as l’air bien aujourd’hui.” You look good today.
“Aujourd’hui?” Today?
He nodded slowly, his fingers trailing up your spine until they reached the ties of your string bikini on your back. With a delicate touch, he toyed with the knotted bow, teasingly.
“Et les autres jours?” What about other days?
He rolled his eyes in a playful manner, clicking his tongue to make a ‘tsk’ sound in jest. “Tu es toujours belle.” You’re always beautiful.
He pulled his hands from your warmed skin, just in time for your brother to return, bottles of sun lotion in hand. He tossed one to Charles while demanding you to put some on.
“Putain, j’ai oublié mon telephone,” Fuck, I forgot my phone. And your brother was out of sight yet again.
“Charlie?” You put on your sweetest voice. “Voudrais-tu mettre la lotion?” Will you put the lotion on?
It was an excuse. An excuse to have his hands on you again. Not that you needed an excuse, he wanted to touch you just as badly.
He didn’t verbally respond. Instead, he silently applied the sun-tan lotion to your back, spreading it across different areas with careful strokes of his hands as he leaned over your frame, before gently placing his hands back on you.
His fingers slid across your back in slow movements, as if he wanted to remember what every inch of your skin felt like against his hands. His hands dipped down to your butt, barely covered by the bikini that adorned your body, kneading his fingers into the uncovered skin.
He sucked in a breath as you let out a soft moan from the feeling of his hands on you. The feeling of his hands massaging you.
Soft “oh’s” and “mm’s” escaped from your lips, stirring something deep within Charles. He could feel his self-control slipping away with each little sound you made, intensifying his desire with every breath you took.
He dropped a little pat to your butt, signaling that he was done, with a small cough. All you did was flip over, chest now in front of his direct line of eyesight and waited until he realized what you wanted.
“My front side needs some, no?” You could’ve sworn you heard a groan slip past his lips.
His hands slowly but surely made way back to your skin, trailing along your ribs as he made sure to miss not one inch of your skin with the lotion. His touch was tender, yet purposeful, as he ignited a trail of sensation wherever his fingers grazed. It was as if your skin was itching for more of him, while his fingers burned to touch every inch he could.
And although the air was hot, and the sun was beating down on you both. Your nipples pebbled beneath the thin fabric of your swimsuit, no doubt obvious to Charles, as if you were freezing.
“I’m done,” His voice dropped an octave, but his hands didn’t leave your skin. No, instead he carried his fingers to the small triangles of your white bikini top, daring his thumbs to trace over your pebbled nipples. You ached.
It wasn’t until Pierre reappeared that Charles abruptly withdrew his hands from you, swiftly dropping onto his back on the sunbed and feigning nonchalance as if his hands weren’t just groping you. 
-
“Lando!” you shrieked; your body slung over his shoulder as his arms held onto the back of your thighs firmly. “Pose-moi! Put me down!”
He twirled in circles on the back deck, his movements reckless, bringing him dangerously close to the edge of the water. With a mix of playful exasperation and genuine concern, your arms smacked his back, the impact echoing a mix of amusement and anxiety in the salty air.
“Put you down?” His voice carried a mischievous tone, a hint of devilry hidden. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could practically feel the schemes brewing in his mind, a silent promise of further antics.
“Don’t you da-” Before you could complete your sentence, the momentum carried both you and Lando overboard, plunging into the refreshing embrace of the water. As you emerged, laughter bubbled up, mingling with the gentle lapping of waves against the boat’s hull. With a mischievous grin, you scooped water in your hands, splashing it at Lando’s face, eliciting playful protests and further laughter as he grabbed for your body, pulling you flush against him.
“You still got a thing for him?” Lando’s eyes darted over your shoulder, towards the boat, where an unnoticed Charles was already gazing in your direction, his head cocked as if he was mildly confused and annoyed. Unaware of his presence, you rested your head in the crevice of Lando’s neck, the both of you continuing to frolic in the water, oblivious to the silent exchange occurring just beyond your awareness. 
You nodded your head once against his skin, a silent acknowledgment, before lifting it to meet his gaze. In his eyes, you saw a glint of mischief. “What?”
“Should we make him jealous?” His whispered into your ear, keeping your back to the boat, as his eyes stayed locked on whatever was behind you.
You shook your head, “He wouldn’t care.” 
“Does him not caring include him looking at me like he’ll strangle me with his bare hands?” He brought his eyes back to you, one arm settling on the back of your neck as your legs wrapped around him. 
“Pierre would kill you if he saw us right now.”
He tilted his head back slightly, his laughter resonating between you, causing his bodies to shake with shared amusement. “Pierre is the least of my worries, you muppet,” he chuckled, the sound rich and warm against the backdrop of the lapping waves. His fingers danced through the strands of your wet hair, his voice gentle and comforting. “Just follow my lead, yeah?” His voice carried a hint of excitement, igniting a spark of anticipation within you as you nodded.
-
When Lando claimed Pierre was the least of his worries, you couldn’t help but wonder how true that statement was. Still, you admired his determination not to let Pierre’s presence hinder his plans. There was a sense of resilience in him, a refusal to be shackled, and you found yourself drawn to that strength of character.
“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” What’s going on? Pierre pulled you to the side, his tone hushed. “Toi et Lando, c’est sérieux?” Are you and Lando a thing?
You’re not sure what had him questioning you. Maybe it was you wrapped around his body in the water earlier, or the food sharing at lunch, or the inside jokes and laughter on the sunbed together. Whichever it was, he couldn’t sit back without questions.
“Non, mais ça ne te regarde pas si c’était le cas.” No, but it’s not your business if it were. There was a subtle edge in your tone as you purposefully distanced yourself from Pierre, a flicker of defiance in your step as you strode back towards Lando on the sunbed.
“I think he’s coming over here now,” Lando whispered into the shell of your ear. “You know what to do?” He pushed himself up and off the sunbed before claiming aloud he needed some water.
And as if you wanted this your entire life, which you did, you knew exactly what to do. Charles was a few steps from entering the threshold of ‘close proximity’ when you flipped over to your stomach with a yawn.
“That was quick!” You remarked, your head turned, purposefully presenting your back to Charles once more. “Lan, will you untie the string on my back? I can’t reach it, and I don’t want the tan lines from it.” There was a sly undertone in your voice, far from innocent, as you heard a loud cough from behind you and sensed the shadow cast over your body, indicating Charles’ presence.
Although you feigned ignorance, the sensation of Charles’ hands brushing against the skin above the string tie was too distinct to be mistaken for anyone else’s. Each touch carried a familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation that could never be replicated by another.
Charles pressed his knee into the cushion of the sunbed, slipping it between your legs as he leaned forward. His body loomed over yours, his fingers knuckles-deep into the cushion with your head nestled in between, effectively hunching over you in an intimate posture. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear.
“Let me be clear,” His voice was gruff.  “Ses mains ne te toucheront plus.” His hands will not touch you again.
You almost moaned at his words, but you had to stick to the plan. You turned your head just enough for your eyes to meet with his again. They were narrowed, and a much darker shade of green than earlier. 
“And why is that?” It was as if you wanted a death wish.
“Si tu veux que quelqu’un te touche,” If you want someone to touch you. He began, before pausing and trailing one finger down your spine and back up it until his fingers settled on the nape of your neck, “Tu me demandes.” You ask me.
And then he was up and out of sight, as if it was a figment of your imagination.
-
“Est-ce que j’ai dit que tu pouvais arrêter?” Did I say you could stop? He grunts harshly as his hips rut upwards into you, your walls fluttering around his cock so tightly. You couldn’t form words as a small whimper elicited past your lips. “Hm, mon ange?” 
Both of your arms are locked behind your back clenched in one of his tight fists. While his other hand grips your hip bone, controlling your movements. You were completely fucked out, your motions becoming lazy and lacking a pattern.
“C’mon fille douce,” Sweet girl. “Tu te sens tellement bien.” You feel so good. His words were edging you on, your pace increasing as you continued through the burn of your thighs working over his cock.
There was little to no room in the cramped cabin, leaving little room to maneuver, as your knees knocked into the side table earlier. The soft white comforter and few pillows that were once carefully arranged on the bed were haphazardly strewn about, adding to the sense of disorder. With only one light, casting a dim glow, the rest of the cabin remained cloaked in shadows, leaving the figure of him leaning against the makeshift ‘headboard’ which was little more than a wall, visible in the faint light. You could barely remember how you even got in this position. One moment, he was helping you find the spare cooler, the next your bikini bottoms were pushed aside as you straddled him.
“Think you’re so clever, hm?” He muttered, a grunt in between each thrust of his cock into you. “Lando?”
Your head lulled back, as Charles leaned forward to bring his teeth to your uncovered nipples, the triangles of your bikini top pushed to the sides, your breasts bouncing with each lift of your hips.
“It worked, didn’t it?” You smirked as he pulled his mouth off your nipples with a ‘pop’.
“Cherie, should’ve asked sooner.” He whispered, rolling you over so that you were beneath him now, pinned to the mattress. “Would’ve given you this sooner if you just asked.” 
His hand now covered your mouth, his fingers occasionally slipping inside of it to feel your tongue, attempting to muffle your small moans.
“Silence, mon ange.” 
You both could hear the rhythmic thumping of the music reverberating around the boat, blending with the sounds of laughter and occasional snippets of conversation. Amidst the vibrant ambiance, the occasional outburst of excitement or disagreement from a card game, worked in your favor of them not hearing you.
Your face was flushed red as he pinned you to the mattress, the slam of his hips filling the sound of the room. An occasional tear forming in your eye from the pleasure, from the need to come.
It was quick. One second his hips were slamming into you, the next they slowed, his head turned toward the door as if he could hear something you didn’t. Which he did. Footsteps.
“Charles? Are you down here?” There was a knock on the wooden door, the only boundary between the both of you and your brother. “Sais-tu où est ma sœur?” Do you know where my sister is?
And like the sick, twisted fuckhead Charles was, he continued rutting his hips into you. His pace much slower, but each stroke deeper, more precise. “Answer him,” His voice was so low, only you could hear him. You shook your head but look in his eyes was fierce as he cocked his head. You have no choice.
“I’m laying down,” Your voice quivered, as you tried to not moan in the middle of speaking. Charles dragged the pad of his tumb across his tongue, bringing it down to press against your already soaked clit. “I don’t feel well.” You heard the doorknob turn, but to your luck, it was locked. 
“Have you seen Charles?”
“Doing so well for me, Cherie.” Charles whispered into your ear, like he wanted to torture you. “Your sweet little pussy was made for me, hm?”
Yes. Yes it was made for you. Yes, you’ve seen Charles. His cock was inside of you now, his swim shorts weren’t even completely off, neither was yours. That’s how desperate you both were.
“Mon dieu,” You yelped before Charles hand slammed over your mouth in warning, before he flipped you over, your backside now facing him. “No! But if you find him, can you tell him I’m looking for him too?” You figured it was a sly move.
Charles leaned over your back as soon as Pierre’s steps retreated, peppering kisses to your spine, until his mouth was beside your ear. “Such a good girl, hm?” The drive of his hips was world-tilting.
“Squeezing me so tight,” He grunted. “Gonna give it to me?”
Your head nodded repeatedly, your body shaking, with each forceful drive of his hips into you. 
“Did you like that, hm?” He continued, “Almost getting caught with my cock deep inside of you?” You were losing your restraint, keeping your moans in was only getting more difficult.
You let out a whine as he continuously stroked your walls just right. You were too far gone to even announce that you were cumming. So, you came on his cock without a warning. But he could tell, just by the flutter of your walls around him and as your body collapsed face first into the mattress, as if you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore.
Your pussy gripped him tightly, and it was so warm, so gooey. “That’s it, mon ange.” He encouraged you as he pulled out, his own orgasm taking over him, releasing onto your backside, careful to not hit your bikini bottoms.
He fell beside you, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took as he met your eyes. “Mon dieu, we should’ve done that sooner.”
You let out a small laugh. Yes, you should’ve.
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clare-875 · 17 days
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Habits of Touch (Zoro, Sanji, Luffy)
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_____ Pairings: (Separate) Zoro x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Luffy x Reader Summary: His favorite time/way to share physical affection with you. Warnings: Fluff, Slightly suggestive Notes: The above image does NOT belong to me, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] [Part 2] _____
- Zoro - Kisses and Workouts
Zoro thought that he enjoyed his solitude during training. He thought that the thrumming waves paired with the pumping of his heart were all he needed for a successful workout. Well, that was until you. Now Zoro finds his focus faltering when he sees a lack of your presence in the Crowsnest as he works; it distracts him when the room is not filled with the vibrance of you. It distracts him more than if you were present, which is saying something. Watching Zoro work was one of your favourite pastimes; how could it not be? His form built under years of training gleaming with sweat would have your face flushed as he smirked at your unwavering gaze. But recently these distractions have poured into you approaching the man as he worked, and you being incorporated into the workouts as he trains. Pushups? Of course, he has you underneath him, the rise and fall of his warmth as you capture his lips while you laugh, noticing the blush that covers his face. Does he need an extra "weight" as he works? Of course, you are on his back or have your arms wrapped around him as he squats down while you tell him about your day. You found early on that you barely affected his training; you were lighter than a feather to him. But maybe that is why he didn't find himself minding or sometimes even craving your warmth and hands as he worked; It was a bonus that wouldn't hinder his workout but would increase your company and your touch.
There would be many times you take your teasing too far, liking the way you so easily influenced his concentration or the flush on his face. However, that would merely cause his touch to roam upon you too, but in a different way. The crow's nest was rarely occupied by other crewmembers and the two of you would take that to your advantage. In the privacy of the room, you would find yourself entangled with him as he pours feverish kisses on your skin. In the solace of just you and him, Zoro finds the walls he keeps up firmly thawing as he responds to your touch eagerly, placing strong hands about your form. It is in these times of quiet that you and he show physical affection the most; Zoro being one to not favour much PDA. But you didn't mind, because it made those moments with him even more treasured; the moments when you could show him the love you hold, and he could do the same in return. It was so easy to get him distracted; you had him wrapped around your finger.
"Zoro~" You mumble as you look at him as he works and you approach, before sitting purposely on his back as he continues on his thousandth push-up. He barely falters when you do continuing like you weren't atop him; like he couldn't hear the teasing tone laced in your words. You would sit up against him as he moves beneath you and leave soft and gentle kisses down his neck. That's when he falters; your touch already riling him up. "[y/n]" Zoro's voice is strained as he tries to continue his workout, but now your hands start to move gently about him and he finds himself enraptured by you. He lets out a low groan that almost sounds like a growl as he flips you over so you are now beneath him and not on his back. Then he encompasses you with a heated kiss, his movements taking you by surprise so much you can barely respond. "You'll be the death of me, woman."
- Sanji - Back Hugs and Cooking
It may not surprise you to know, that Sanji loves to be touching you and to be with you as often as it is realistically possible. Ever considerate of your feelings, he will give you space if you please but just know that he always craves your presence. How could he not? He, the man who constantly showered women with his adoration never thought that his crewmember would return the same adoration for him. Though he still cherishes the women of the crew and showers them with a kind of respect that is honestly unmatched, he only yearns for you. His favourite form of physical affection, however, though perhaps surprising, is in the quiet and domestically suited times you share. Namely, the times you would join him in the kitchen. There, when he would finally let you help him with meals, you would feel gentle hands and his warm form around you; it envelops you. He would guide your hands to carve intricately into ingredients you chop or help you stir a meal as you hovered over it upon a stove. Even when these actions are so simple you scarcely need the guidance of the gifted chef, maybe it is just in the intimacy of it all; like it was just you and him.
Sanji loves that.
Loved the thought that one day maybe it would be just the two of you; it was all the thoughts that filled him as he looked at your beautiful form gracing his kitchen. Sometimes it would make Sanji sentimental; he never knew someone would be capable of loving him the way that you do. He especially adores when the roles are almost reversed and it is your smaller frame that hugs him from behind as he works. It would sometimes take him by surprise until he realised it was just you and your warmth that had encapsulated his figure. You loved it too. The sounds of him working as you leaned against him gently, his form almost making you drowsy as he worked on dinner. It made Sanji's heart erratic the first time you did it, to the point where you had to frantically call for Chopper as he passed out in your hold. Now, however, it is almost routine. Cooking was Sanji's most treasured time and now he spends it with you, the one he loves. Though sometimes you would merely watch him as he works from the dining table, you feel his love most in his guided actions as he envelops you, and he feels a sense of peace whenever he works and feels you do the same.
"Mon Amour, are you tired?"
Sanji's voice is soft as he sorts through ingredients for the night's dinner and you hug him sleepily from behind. You would nuzzle your face into his back and sigh contentedly. "No," you mumble into him though fatigue is clearly laced in your words. You feel the soft rumble of gentle laughter break free from Sanji as he adores every form of you, including your tired one. It makes your own smile grow on your face as you lean more into him and he feels your embrace tighten around him slightly. "I love you." You almost sigh your oath into his back but you find yourself questioning if he has heard it when he doesn't immediately reply. But then, there is a pause in his movements and you wonder what is wrong as a slight silence takes over. He would turn around and your eyes would widen at the sight of tears almost skimming his eyes. "I love you more, my love."
- Luffy - Hand Holding and Adventure
Luffy is always keen for new adventures; of people, places and obscure things he hasn't seen nor experienced before. He is easily excitable as the crew approaches another Island, barely waiting for the ship to dock before he jumps gleefully onto land. It makes Nami roll her eyes as she looks to her Captain and then she would often turn to you. "I don't know how you put up with that." Her voice is laced with a heavy sigh and you smile, but then it is replaced by the spike of your heart when you feel a familiar arm wrap itself around you a few times over. "Wait Luffy-" But it is already too late, you hear the bubbling sound of his laughter as he almost flings you off the ship to his side. For a moment the world turns in your head until you fall into the rubber boy and his gleaming smile. "[y/n]! Come on, let's go explore the island!" You are in a daze but quickly shake off your surprise, it was a constant occurrence. Yes, Luffy adored adventure, but he finds pleasure in it most when he is with you. Thus comes the tight grip of his hand on yours, or the envelopment of your figure as he drags you around the Island; the constant want to have you beside him on his adventure.
His warmth never falters on you, it is always constant around your hand as he pulls you to every aspect of the new space he has yet to explore. You adore it, his gleaming eyes as he turns back to you after running around, gaze surprisingly calm as he makes sure you are still with him. You adore how he holds your form so gently though his movements are sometimes reckless in his excitement. You adore that he wants you by his side on his journey and he will not be content unless you are. It is always the same call, "[y/n], let's go!" Followed always by his warmth and sure grip. Some people may think that Luffy's dreams were confined to his nakama and to becoming the pirate king, but he found that dream fruitless unless you were there to witness it; to witness his adventure and to witness his ambition become reality. He would pout and whine when you didn't come along with him; maybe you had plans with other crewmembers, errands or were simply not feeling it. But it is merely because he loves you, and he wants you by him as he discovers what the world has to offer.
"Hey, [y/n]!" You look up in time to see that Luffy had skewers packed with meat on them; six to be exact. "Try one!" Luffy's face was already full of it and whilst in one hand he held out the skewers to you, the other was still wrapped loosely around yours. You raise your eyebrows in surprise at the gesture but smile and take one from his grasp, "Thanks Luffy." He grins widely as you take a bite, but you barely have enough time to see his eyes flicker; something else has gathered his interest. "[y/n], Takoyaki! Let's go!" Before you knew it he was flying through the streets of the town, dragging you with him. You have to hold your breath at the speed he moves but you find yourself laughing out with him. Of course, it would be this way; it was Luffy. And the day was exciting and eventful and tiring because what day wouldn't be so if you had him by your side? At the end of it, the two of you were found by your crewmembers on the deck of the ship, sleeping against one another peacefully and with Luffy's hand still tight within yours.
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Between Fire and Stone
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Daemon Targaryen/Strong!female
summary: anxious about her approaching union to Aemond, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen seeks comfort | word count: 2.8k~ | warnings: incest, reader is described with strong features, fingering, p in v sex, arranged marriage, Daemon being a cheeky cunt
A/N: idek what I was on to write this cos I'm not usually a Daemon girlie but here we are besties. Tysm @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for beta-ing 😘 appreciate you
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The cold mist nipped at the skin around her ankles, a shiver running up her spine as she struggled through the jagged rock towards the Dragonmont. Her fingers brushed against the stark stone for balance, the other holding the lit torch to light her way before her in the darkness.
It was one of her favourite things, taking a stroll through Dragonstone in the hour of the wolf. Peaceful. Quiet. Something she could have all for herself. Away from the prying of her maidservants and the overbearing boisterous nature of her brothers. Though Jace, now a man grown, still held onto those immaturities.
Yet another thing that set her apart from her siblings.
For she, only a mere year younger than Jace, was considered a woman, ripe for marriage and bearing children, whereas the same hastiness was not pressured upon him. She knew her mother had never intended to bestow such responsibilities on her, but she understood, it was inevitable. As that time loomed ever closer, she found herself roaming her home more often, as if to savour the feeling of once being a child.
Where her brothers could seek adventure with their dragons once they were big enough to saddle, her egg had not hatched in her cradle. She would not inherit the birthright of the blood of Old Valyria, yet another judgement cast upon her that only inflated her sense of belonging at her mother's side. With her moonlit hair and pale lilac eyes, each of her children could not have looked more different.
Before the incident, there existed only one other soul who could truly fathom the depths of her solitude. No dragon. Ceaseless taunts. The notion of isolation, even amongst one’s family. Any semblance of camaraderie had been extinguished the day Lucerys took his eye. That defining moment when Aemond—her uncle—seized his birthright had marked the fracture in their familial bonds. In the aftermath, her mother, alongside her new husband Daemon, orchestrated a grand scheme to mend the shattered relations, a plan that involved her betrothal to him at an opportune moment.
Try as she might, she couldn't conjure the image of herself as his wife. The thought of residing in King's Landing under his roof refused to coalesce into a coherent vision. It remained an elusive spectre, haunting her thoughts with its intangible uncertainty.
Whispers of tradition and duty echoed in the hallowed halls of her childhood, spun by the gentle tongues of Septas who spoke of the sacred rites of marriage. Tales of Lords and Ladies, of the solemn exchange of vows, and the anticipated consummation on the wedding night. Some stories painted a picture of pleasure and intimacy, of unions founded on mutual desire and affection. Others whispered of duty, of sacrifices made for the sake of one's spouse, regardless of personal inclination.
Caught in the web of uncertainty, she pondered which version of Aemond awaited her, a tender partner or a distant lord, bound by duty and tradition. The unknown loomed before her like a shadow, casting doubt upon her heart and stirring a quiet fear within her soul. She knew not what to expect, but the uncertainty itself was enough to unsettle her, to sow the seeds of apprehension in her mind. And as the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, she couldn't help but wonder, which path would her marriage tread, and would she have the strength to endure whatever lay ahead?
Amidst the towering peaks of Dragonmont, she sought solace in the embrace of ancient flames and the soothing hum of Vermithor's slumber. Here, amidst the rugged terrain and the ever-watchful gaze of the dragons, she found a fleeting sense of peace.
But it was not the Bronze Fury that sang to her. 
“Hen ñuhā elēnī:
Perzyssy vestretis,
Se gēlȳn irūdaks…
Ānogrose.”
She felt the rush of heat at the nape of her neck. Daemon stood straight, back facing her, his voice near-matching the hum of Vermithor’s deep exhales.
“It is late, Princess.” Unlike her, Daemon remained as he dressed during the day, shown when he turned to face her, with the self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “What troubles you?” he asked.
She tried to raise her chin, but her eyes betrayed the turmoil that stirred within. 
“My fate,” she said, her careful steps drawing ever nearer. "I am to be wed to Aemond, but I fear what awaits me in that union.”
Daemon hummed, as if curiously amused.
She had known no father figure since Laenor. And though she knew sooner than her brothers the truth that lay beneath the careful picture her mother had forged, since she had been wed to Daemon, he had taken practice with his own daughters and become almost a father to her alike.
She felt his eyes sink over her once before returning to her eyes.
"Marriage is a weighty matter," he said. "But is it the marriage itself that troubles you, or something more?”
She did not miss the lilt to his voice. The one, that like his eyes had done many times before, made something squeeze in her gut. A fire burning bright. A feeling that brought her shame.
He was her mother's husband.
“I cannot say exactly,” she confessed. “Perhaps it is leaving Dragonstone. Mother and my brothers. And being alone in the capital with no face I recognise with trust.”
Daemon nodded almost indistinctly, his fingers reaching out to brush a lock of hair back over her shoulder, admiring her hair loose of its usual braids. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, a sensation both familiar and disconcerting. She fought to push aside the conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, the warmth of his touch conflicting with the knowledge of their complicated relationship.
"Leaving behind the familiar can indeed be a daunting prospect," Daemon acknowledged, his voice a velvet caress, “But fret not. Within you resides the same fire that fuels your mother's resolve. Embrace it. You are as much Targaryen as any of them.”
She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze, at the way he seemed to see straight through her defences. She knew she should be wary of his advances, of the way he danced on the edge of propriety with his words and his touch. But there was something undeniably alluring about the way he held her gaze, about the way he made her feel desired and understood.
"Thank you, Daemon," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your support means more to me than you know.”
Daemon's smile was a slow, seductive curve of his lips, his eyes alight with a fire that mirrored the flames of the Dragonmont. 
"Ah, but my dear Princess," he replied, his voice low and husky, "you have yet to discover the true depths of my support.”
She felt her throat close up, the feeling mirroring somewhat what happened between her thighs.
What could he possibly mean?
“Do you fear it?” he asked. “The act of consummation?”
Her cheeks flushed crimson at Daemon's bold question, his words sending a jolt of both arousal and apprehension coursing through her veins. 
“It… is perfectly normal, I would think,” she answered, words failing her.
"Princess," he murmured, his voice a soothing caress against her skin. "There is no shame in feeling uncertain. It is only natural to have doubts, especially when faced with such intimate matters.”
She felt he was circling her, as dragons did their targets. And felt her heart thumping in her chest.
“With Aegon, I dare say, I would join you in your uncertainty. But Aemond, on the other hand… is a different matter entirely.”
“How so?” she asked, breathing out when he disappeared out of her line of sight, his presence at her back, fingers draping past the material of her dress.
“I am afraid he may be less… forthcoming with expressing his desires,” he purred. “He may be cold, or at least that is how it may be interpreted.” Her eyes met his with bated breath as he appeared on her opposite side, closer. “He may not be so adept with the pleasures of a female body.”
She swallowed, a chill settling on her front, her body reacting thus. He remained silent, as if daring her to say what he knew was already on the tip of her tongue. So, she took the plunge. “And…you are?”
Daemon smirked smugly, and she knew she already had her answer., “What do you think?”
Her heart raced. Her mind struggled to contemplate whether she should be honest or not, for she had heard stories and rumours. She knew she was treading dangerous waters, playing with fire in the form of her mother's husband, but there was a part of her that couldn't resist the allure of his confidence, his charm, his undeniable magnetism.
"I... I suppose I never considered such matters," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the admission.
Daemon's eyes danced with amusement as he stepped closer. "Perhaps it is time you did," he murmured, fingers trailing lightly down the curve of her spine.
Her skin vibrated with anticipation as she fought to maintain her composure in the face of his overwhelming presence. She knew she should pull away, should put an end to this dangerous game they were playing, but the lure of Daemon's charm was too strong to resist.
“Mayhaps I could demonstrate and put your worries to rest,” he suggested, crossing the imaginary but daring line seemingly without fear. “Rest assured, my experience in such matters is... extensive."
Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to maintain her resolve, her body betraying her with every flutter of her lashes, every quickened breath. “But… you and Mother—”
Her lips clamped shut with the bruising of his grip in the softness of her waist, urging her back to the rocky, hard wall. Only now, when faced with the Rogue Prince, did she realise just how small she truly felt.
“Your mother is preoccupied with her own affairs," he replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous allure. "She won't concern herself with our little... indiscretion.”
The realisation sank in that she was alone with Daemon in the secluded confines of the Dragonmont, far removed from the prying eyes of the world. And yet, she still felt her lips go dry when he hung the torch and trailed his touch upon her skin where he was taking her skirts with it.
She could not hide her nerves, or the beating rush of arousal, “Bu—but… with Aemond, I must—”
The air felt warm as her skirt was rucked around her hips. She squeaked when his calloused fingers swept through her folds, ashamed to find she was affected by what he was doing to her as her slick coated them easily.
Daemon chuckled, a pleased hum in his chest that she was wet and ready, while his other hand busied with the laces of his breeches, “Sweet girl. When my dear nephew has his cock buried inside you on your wedding night, he will not know the difference.”
His words, combined with the tight circles he applied to the forbidden bud tucked between her legs, had white hot pleasure burning in her veins. Her lips were parted, but no sound came out. All she could do was look upon his pleased face with a hedonistic expression, feeling very much like they were doing something deliciously wrong but could find no reasonable excuse to cease.
“Do not look so surprised. I have seen the way you watch me. Are you not ashamed for looking upon your own mother’s husband with lust?” 
The more he touched her, the more arousal he coaxed forth, the sound lewd and forbidden in the raw silence of the Draognmont. She could not answer his question without subjecting herself to further embarrassment. Even so, attempting to concentrate enough to form words as his two forefingers slid within her tight, hot walls, was near impossible. She gasped quietly, the feeling so foreign and yet not unpleasant. And like Daemon in any other scenario, while his motions were forceful, somewhat brutal, they were calculated, without effort. Like it came innately. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, his digits buried deep inside curved towards him, stoking a fire at the hearth of her.
“Answer me.”
She nodded frantically. “Yes—I am ashamed—”
It was all she managed before the feeling began to crest, building and building as if she were climbing some great height and was about to tumble off. But she only exhaled shakily as Daemon withdrew his fingers from her fluttering, sensitive walls, using the moisture to lubricate himself with a careful caress of his manhood.
He chuckled at the wounded expression on her face. “No need for shame, Princess.”
She caught the glint of his ring as he wrung the fabric of her skirts in his fist. Her eyes widened as the head of his cock disappeared easily between her swollen folds, with no real full feeling until he pushed forward, both with hesitation and a sort of evil excitement.
Her back pressed against the jagged stone, her lips only parted to suck in air where it had left her lungs. It was a feeling she could describe very little, the sting of being stretched around him painful and yet once sheathed fully inside her, hips pushing against her own. Daemon wrapped his fingers around her fleshy thigh to tug her leg over his hip, a flash of white hot pleasure creeping up her spine. He only grunted, her slick ridges gripping him greedily without any effort on her part. 
For a few moments, he stayed like that as if waiting for any complaint, but when he found none, began a steady rhythm, fingers creating crescent-moon shaped welts in her skin. He did not share in her reaction. He simply raised one corner of his lips in a pleased manner, watching her face, treating it very much as a lesson in pleasure more than anything else.
She could scarcely think with the violent push of his hips, the notch of his belt stabbing into her each time.
“My nephew does not deserve this perfect. little cunt.” He grunted from the effort. “Tell me, Princess—when he is fucking you with his narrow little prick, will you be thinking of this instead?”
Her eyes slipped shut, her head tipped back and fingers coming to her own mouth to muffle the lewd sound that threatened to come out. Her perceived embarrassment at her own enjoyment of this only seemed to motivate Daemon further, and he widened her hips with a soft nudge of his knee against her leg and groaned at the way she tightened around him.
“You liked that, didn't you?” He breathed against her face, looking briefly down between them to watch how he rooted himself inside her over and over, as if unable to believe this was really happening. “I bet he won't make you this wet. I doubt the little cunt will even know how to make you come.”
Her skirt fell from his hand as it drew down between them, and she resisted the urge to squeal when he began to apply pressure in tight, sure circles around her bud.
“You shall have to teach him those pleasures.”
Her fingers gripped his forearms tight as she climaxed, her tight, hot walls spasming around him uncontrollably. It was so utterly different to the way she had pleasured herself before. This time, the forbidden combination of Daemon stretching her open around him and the pleasure he coaxed from her with his fingers meant that this peak seemed to drain her entire body of energy. Her body feeling boneless in his hold, that if he let go, she would surely lose her balance.
A flash of fear cracked like lightning across her subconscious. Surely he did not intend to spill inside her?
He did not overstimulate her for much longer as he neared his own end. Rather, he savoured the feeling of her warmth sucking him in for just a few moments more before pulling out, stroking himself vigorously to completion, warm ropes of his spend coating her lower stomach.
In the quiet dead of night with only her laboured breathing to echo within it, she felt her eyes could not keep up with her mind as she glanced back up at him. His rapidly cooling seed began to dribble towards her thighs, swiftly covered by her skirts once more as Daemon lowered her clothing back into place. The reality of the dangerous and yet delicious sin she had committed with him began to rise into clarity.
Upon his fingers shone the damning proof of his sordid claim on her, pearly in the glow of torchlight. “What a waste. I’d have liked to see it dripping from you.
But that pleasure… I shall save for my nephew, sweet girl."
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General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies
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r3starttt · 2 months
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OBLIVIATE | 01
ellabs x reader | series m.list | > CHAPTER TWO
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CW: modern!au. +18 content. poly relationship. POC friendly. | dom! ellabs x sub! reader. college encounter (study session). praising. overstim. edging. threesome. finger sucking. fingering.
SUMMARY: College life quickly became overwhelming with drunken teens, constant disruptions, and the flaunting of wealth, pushing you to prefer solitude until you found yourself striving for perfection, craving approval, and immersing yourself in that lifestyle despite initially finding it insufferable. As summer break approached, exam stress mounted, but hey, now you've got some help.
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CHERRY COLOURED FUNK
You were born to be perfect. So were they. Perhaps that's why you bonded so effortlessly.
The day was warm, and all you could think about was reaching your dorm, meeting your roommate, and escaping the suffocating presence of your family. A bunch of privileged stupid individuals who brought you to this esteemed institution just to counter anyone who dared to question their, and soon your, intellectual superiority by flaunting your attendance at a very prestigious college.
Two kisses, one on each cheek. Your mother's final words were, "Don't take any of this too seriously." Little did she know what lay ahead. In fact, little did you know too.
Your room was dull, far more formal than you had anticipated. Sunlight streamed through the plain brown curtains. It felt a bit suffocating even.
Voices echoed from all directions, all comming from what seemed like the main garden.
One voice in particular caught your attention as you peeked through the curtains.
A tall blonde girl stood out, a sweater draped over her shoulders with its arms knotted in front of her chest. She wore a brown t-shirt that clung to her toned frame and a pair of vintage jeans.
Beside her was a shorter auburn-haired girl, a cigarette in hand. Her attire was less conservative.
Even from their hairstyles, you could tell which one came from a rich family and which one didn't care about it. the blonde had her hair neatly braided; the other sported a messy bun.
You met the blonde's eyes, her grou still talking and laughing ridiculously loud. She murmured something to the girl on her side. You could tell she wanted to look too.
You closed the curtains, hoping the day would end quickly.
-
One week into college, you were already overwhelmed. Drunken teens roamed everywhere, not even the fun kind. There was constant joking and bossing around. Classes were frequently interrupted by wealthy kids flaunting their impunity. 'I'm the reason you have a job'
That's one of the main reasons so far you've decided to stay on your own. Having private aproachments with some teachers at the end or beggining of the class, making sure they knew you. Also making yourself comfortable in the library, religiously before going back to your dorm to sleep.
"Is this seat taken?" You barely heard the question, too absorbed in the music playing through your headphones. You shook your head, moving your chair and books to make space for whoever wanted to sit next to you, in the nearly empty library. Guess the luck was over.
As you took your headphones off you immediately recognized who they were. Have you got yourself in trouble just by looking at them?
"We wanted to approach to you since the first day, but you always seem busy" the blonde one spoke. She seemed quite sophisticated, from the way she talked to the way she sat. It did a nice contrast with her appearance, built and big.
"She's been kind of stalking you." The auburn sitting in front of you both spoke. She looked like the type of girl everyone wants to be friend with. And maybe she was considering she had got herself way too comfortable with you already. Teasing and moving her legs over the chair.
The girl next to you simply rolled her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the not so fake admission.
"So, I'm Abby... uhm, Anderson. And she's—" the auburn interrupted, introducing herself "Ellie"
"Williams" Abby finished for her.
-
Months went by after that first interaction.
You realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.
But it all turned into an obsession. You craved perfection, setting impossible standards for yourself and others that you felt like achieving, and desperately needed everyone's approval. More specificly, Abby's and Ellie's approval.
So you spent days and nights with them and their friends, sitting on their laps so they could show you off. Letting them put their hands on your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans whenever you walked.
Going to parties with them, getting drunk, and hating yourself for every drop of alcohol that entered your body, knowing you had class the next day.
At first, it was insufferable. Yet it didn't take long for you to adjust.
You started to understand why rich kids acted the way they did. The more time you spent with them, the more you enjoyed it.
You convinced yourself there could never be a better thing than partying until you vomited and making out with the girls you trusted most. You somehow felt safe.
You also realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.
-
Summer break was closer each day and you needed them attached, so far everything was about study sessions, breaks to eat together or rest. Exam season was a nuisance you didn't quite contemplate and you needed to get the job done.
Heavy eyelids stared unfocused at the floor of your dorm. underneath your bed a dark red rug being graced by your suck covered feet. dancing along the fabric.
Ellie was sitting on the floor, already reading through a study guide you had made. She had her head resting on her knee, her eyes scanning the paper spread out on the floor and her pencil on her mouth. A hum escaped her lips as she wrote down what seemed like the answer.
It was the first time you ever accepted their help. Probably the first time you've let them in your dorm, at least sober.
Abby, beside having you comfortably sitting on her, had her glasses on, reading what seemed like theory for another subject. She didn't really need to study much but there was nothing else to do if Ellie was the genius here. Plus she barely got the note to pass that subject last year.
"What's exactly troubling you?" Ellies voice broke your trance.
What really was troubling you wasn't something you could just say out loud. You knew why Abby was here, and it bothered you. Were you ready for this? For them?
You turned your head towards Ellie, processing her words before answering, "uhh I don't- how're you supposed to do-" you gently brushed abbys hand off your waist, sitting next to ellie and pointing to the part of the process you've got lost on.
Abby didn't hesitate, simply gibing your hip a soft squeeze. But you could feel her looking at you, then looking at Ellie and again at her book.
You spent at least the next 8 hours doing exercise over exercise nonstop. Until your eyes felt heavy and your back could barely hold your head up. You needed a break.
You decided to take a look at Abby once Ellie stood up to grab something to eat. It was cheesy of you, but knowing she liked to constantly chew on something, you had bought a few gummies for her.
Abby knew just by the look on your face that you needed something. "Come here," she said, patting her lap.
Her action elicted a smile on you, sheepishly standing from where you had all day sitting. Your bare foot made the wooden floor crack at each step you took closer to Abby.
"You're taking break?" She spoke soothingly to your ear. Taking her glasses off and widening her legs so you could comfortably swing your legs in between hers. You nodded
Her hand patted on the side next to you, confused you shifted your gaze towards the matresss. Ellie came from behind you, grabbing your waist briefly before sitting next to you. You could hear her chewing.
"Don't get to overwhelmed yeah? So far you've done good, and-" Abby's fingers intertwined with yours, dragging your hand to her lips and leaving a soft kiss against your knuckles. "Ellie's gonna be there for you"
Her words did make you forget about your worries for a moment. But you knew if you failed any exam, you'll be proving your family you were just like them, you'll be making them pay a ridiculous amount of money to pretend nothing ever happened. And you could allow yourself that.
"Hey" Ellie spoke, her hand resting on your shoulder "Abby's right, don't overhtink it, yeah?"
You pressed your lips together. Unable to brush your thoughts away. "Let her help you" instictively your eyebrows furrowed at Ellie's words.
Her eyes met Abby's, followed by your own, just now realizing what she meant. "Fucking horny, Ellie" you laughed it off.
Abby kissed you first. It wasn't the first time she did. But you knew this was different. Ellie, as usual, just followed.
's okay if you don't want to' Ellie whispered. Her hands underneath your shirt as you had your back pressed against her chest. Abby had her lips against your neck, her hands gripping at the flesh on your thighs.
"We're taking a break, right?" You replied, making her smile grow. She hummed in agreement, leaving a trail of wet kisses on the other side of your neck.
"Lay down" Abby spoke between kisses. You had to push Ellie away to obbey her order. You could tell by how her breath hitched and how hungrily she pressed her lips against your skin. Ellie had probably dreamt about this.
Both grabbed each side of your body, laying on their respective sides. Abby's fingers dragging your leg bettwen her own making sure you couldn't move it. Ellie did the same with the opposite one.
Her hands desperately took your shirt off, undoing your jeans and making enough space in between your legs.
You were ridiculously wet already. Feeling abby trace her fingers along your chest, moving your bra underneath your breasts.
Her fingers toyed with your nipple, her teeth against your skin. Ellie kept on sucking at your other breast with such hunger she had already made a mess, her kisses sloppy and wet.
Abby trailed a path down your stomach. Feeling every inch of your skin until she got to the hem of your panties.
Her eyes hadn't missed a single reaction of yours. Your head pressed against the matress, wanting to close your leg; aching for the smallest friction against your clit. And she was willing to give her girl just what she wanted.
"Ellie" Abby mutters, making her turn her attention to her. Just with the look on her eyes, Ellie understood.
Her hands moved under Abby's, chuckling against your skin "You're so wet" your breath hitched at her words. The feeling itself. It was all too overwhelming.
Ellie made sure to rub her fingers against your clothet core. Pressing over it, feeling your arousal grow at every move Abby made against your clit.
Your lips let out pleads to both, their names comming out in a shaky acute tone.
"Shhh you can take more babe" Ellie coos. Your answer being interrupted by Abby abruptly taking her hand off your clit.
Her now wet fingers gently tugging at your hardened nipple again, pinching such sensitive bud between her fingers. 
"Keep them wide for me, yeah?" Ellie's lips pressed against yours before you felt her fingers inside your underwear.
She starts slow, harshly rubbing circles over your clit. Abby's fingers travelling to your mouth to keep you shut, her mouth licking on your skin, eventually letting out gentle praises for you. 'such a good girl'
You moan and whine, gaging on her fingers. "Doing so good for us" Abby whispers, meeting your face. She looked so proud, seeing you all fucked up, your pretty lips around her fingers.
And you suddenly joint. Ellie's fingers inside you already, thrusting your core with ease. "Hear that" Ellie remarks shaking her hand in disbilief, Abby laughs with her, mocking you and how desperate you've got for them. "So wet, huh?"
The grip Abby had on your stomach looses, feeling her hands slowly sliding down on your clit, toying with it again at an unsteady peace, slowing down each time she hears your breath go faster, every time she sees your stomach clenching or whenever she feels you pulsating.
You shut your eyes close, unable to do anything else than let yourself get drunk on pleasure.
Ellie's whines overlap with your own. Feeling herself grow wet at each thrust she makes on your cunt. Feeling you clench around her, feeling your arousal making a mess on her hand.
"You can take it baby" just hearing Abby's voice makes you want to sob. "P-Please" you whine, your hands clenching around nothing, feeling yourself closer to the orgasm you so much desire.
"Oh you're gonna cum for us?" Abby coos. Smiling at your breathless cries. "She's so close" Ellie murmurs, feeling your walls tight around her fingers.
"Y-Yeah" your eyebrows knitted together as Ellie's thrusts became erratic. Abbys fingers still overstimulating your puffy clit, scissoring your folds just to not give you all the pleasure.
You cry as you reach your climax, feeling a warm hand against your cheek. "Shh shh"
Their hands tease you just a few seconds after you've reached your high. Feeling you shake underneath them. Your thighs jumping one last time before they let go.
Your eyes open, noticing your erratic breath show underneath your falling chest.
Ellie's fingers move with ease toward Abby's lips, and she simply takes them, licking your arousal off her hand.
"Fuck" you breath out, resting your head against the matress again, laying between them.
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Reblogs and Comments very much appreciated!!!
- taglist: @softlysunrays @eyesfullofsttars <33 | @cowboylu @ennabear @satellitespinner @flowrmoth @tohoko @bambishaven @luciaaa-aa @be3flow3r @f4riedimples
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m-oddinsdottir · 24 days
Text
SMALL SPACE, BIG WINGS
the lord of Bloodshed and the étoile .ˊˎ ⚔️
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Cassian x Fem! Reader
Words: 2,974
Warnings: smut, fingering, dirty talking, use of pet names, Cassian is a consent king, tension, reader ‘despising’ Cassian, Cassian being secretly smitten over her, unprotected p in v, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, slightly nipple play, no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything!
Summary: After being sent on a small and easy job, you end up locked up with Cassian while trying to hide. You two barely fit inside together and the tension is definitely not making things any easier.
A/N: so this is the first time I write smut, definitely had to made my research in how to translate some things from my first language. friendly reminder that english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me if<3
Masterlist
•••
You were going to murder Rhysand. Surely, that was the next thing on your to-do list.
You were no spy, and neither was Cassian. Stealthy was not one of the words by which you would describe the Illyrian warrior, to the contrary he was a brute, certainly not a diplomat or forbearing in said matters.
So when Rhysand sent you both on a small and easy job (as the High Lord had called it), you immediately knew things would fail miserably.
After centuries together, everyone would have thought you adored Cassian as much as you adored everyone else in the Inner Circle. They couldn't be more wrong. You hated being teased, he was always teasing you. You loved your moments of solitude and peace, he would always scream around and ruin them. You were free as the stars, he was always trying to tie you down to the House of Wind with them.
You despised him.
However, you couldn't get rid of his obnoxious presence. Even during those terrible fifty years of Amarantha's reign where you had found your own silent and sacred temple in Velaris, he would always knock on your door at least once a month. He was insatiable.
Now, you both were trapped together under a hatch door. His broad hand over your waist to balance you while you were almost laying completely down over his body. His large wings half-wrapped around your figure, occupying most of the limited space in the tiny area you two had decided to hide in.
The amused smirk on his lips didn't help after you noticed the trapdoor only opened from the outside. If you had the space, you would have punched it out of his face just in the way he had trained you after decades of dwelling on how you couldn't always retort on your magic.
"You and me together, doll." He had said, and in response, you had just huffed before trying to kick the door open... Somehow. There must be a way to get out of there, right? You have attempted to contact Rhysand countless times to be able to keep track of it. Yet, you received no response in return.
And now, after almost twenty minutes ignoring Cassian's smart mouth and trying to find the manner to open the door. Your body was already cramping, and the resignment was taking its toll on you.
The male underneath you noticed the sigh that escaped your lips. He also realized how your body pressed more against his seeking some rest after supporting yourself over your forearms to avoid touching him for that much time. A small grin drew itself over his lips.
"As I said about half an hour again... You can't open it."
A small stubborn frown appeared over your lips. He wasn't saying 'I said so' right now, was he? Gods, you were so going to punch him.
"Have you at least tried to contact Rhysand to get us out of here?" Your question made his grin disappear as he looked into your eyes.
Cassian hadn't tried to do anything during all that time. He had just laid there, noticing the way your chest heavily moved up and down with each of your pants after trying to push the door open with your body, taking in how you closed your eyes in frustration granting him the possibility for his eyes to roam over your body without you realizing it.
Gods, he had tried to memorize each detail in your skin with this new forced proximity which, at least, was welcomed by him. Cassian had retained the way your brows furrowed together and the soft sounds of exasperation coming out of your throat that made him shiver.
"Of course, I've tried. I want to stay in this position as much as you do, doll."
Lie after lie.
He hadn't tried to contact Rhysand, and the gods knew he was praying to stay like that with you for as long as possible.
You looked deep into his eyes, nose scrunched up slightly before scoffing and then trying to shift to reduce the cramping sensation. "Ain't this the best outcome possible?"
Hearing your annoyed grumbling made Cassian grin with amusement again, his hand squeezing your waist before talking. "You know, you could always..."
"If you seriously propose that I lay down, I'll kill you Cassian." You muttered and the male raised his hands as much as he could feigning innocence.
"I didn't say anything," Cassian replied to you. His hand returned to rest on your waist before you shoved it away. "You were the one who suggested that… Is that how badly you want me to invite you to sit on my lap, doll?"
Unconsciously, your breath hitched before a small growl escaped your lips and you flexed your arms to be able to stand as far away from him as possible. "Have some respect, will you?"
"When has there ever been some respect between us?"
A truth, for a change.
Gods may correct if otherwise. But a compliment has never been shared between you and the warrior. Not a genuine one, at least.
"And whose fault is that?"
"Isn't it ours, doll? I don't think I can count how many times you've slammed your door on my face." "I don't think you can count at all." Your retort made the warrior grin from underneath you. And, this time, Cassian didn't have any decency before he looked— No, not looked, ogled at you.
"Trying to make me cry?"
You held back the need to roll your eyes at him before supporting your weight with one arm and forcing him to look into your eyes. The roughness of his stubble scratched the soft pads of your fingers as you held his chin upwards.
"Eyes up here," you warned him. "I didn't realize you had the emotional capacity to cry. Did I at least bruise your ego, Cassian?"
He chuckled before tilting his head down slightly and brushing his sultry lips against your fingers. "Consider it damaged." The strain of his voice sent a shiver down your spine to your core.
Gods, that roughness in his tone. You doubt you have ever heard that hoarseness in him before, even though you have witnessed some of his flirting attempts with other females.
A few seconds too late, you dropped his chin. Your hand moved to rest underneath his arm so that you could support yourself above him. Your mouth felt dry and the familiar sensation of your slick between your folds almost cracked a curse out of you.
Fuck.
Not in this situation, not with Cassian underneath you, not in such a tiny space where he could scent it.
And did he scent it, his nose scrunched up slightly and your eyes followed the movement of his Addam's apple when he swallowed hard. The warmth got worse. And you weren't even sure how or why it started.
Gods.
Gods.
"Gods." Cassian muttered, putting your thoughts right into words. You scoffed before shoving him away from you, placing your hands on his chest, and pushing your back against the small wooden trap door.
"Don't you dare say a fucking word. I'm going to try and contact Rhysand again." At your words, Cassian's chest reverberated against your hands when a deep growl escaped his lips
"Don't." His firm voice made you freeze above him.
"Don't?" You repeated and his growl was enough of a response for you. "The hell y—?
Before you could even register it, his lips were over yours. He was a male starved, lips coaxing yours open as he roughly introduced his tongue inside your mouth. His long and warm tongue licking the roof of your mouth before he intertwined his tongue with yours in a dance that only belonged to the synchrony in which the General usually fought his battles.
A small whimper escaped your lips and it traveled into his mouth when one of his hands lowered to your ass, taking a handful of the flesh covered by the leather. Almost immediately, your body arched into his, molding your body in the small space. Your skin buzzed with arousal when he broke the kiss and began pressing open-mouthed wet kisses against the bare skin of your neck.
You whined his name, almost gasping as his hand slipped underneath your trousers, you had no idea when the male unbuttoned them as your hand moved upwards to get tangled in his dark long locks.
"So fucking beautiful and so fucking wet," Cassian groaned as one of his fingers lowered feeling your covered and aching cunt, his warm and soft fingers pressing against your entrance. He clenched his jaw when he could feel the wetness spread through the thin layer of fabric. "Can you imagine how many times I have pictured you like this? At my damn mercy."
He pressed harder and you moaned against his ear. A pink tone colored your cheeks, however, it was provoked by your shame, not your arousal. You doubted you have ever been more soaked for any male before him... That, somehow, ashamed you.
Cassian traced slow and cruel circles against your entrance almost fingering you through the small lacey fabric Mor usually forced you to buy.
"Cassian—." You even struggled with your own speech. Your voice was suffocated by the delicious sounds that reached Cassian's hearing making the bulge in his trousers painfully hard. You could feel it poke your thigh through his Illyrian leathers and a strained gasp left your lips.
"Fuck, keep making those sounds." Cassian growled against your ear before he lowered your trousers revealing your backside to him as he hovered over your shoulder to take a glimpse.
A moan escaped his lips, this time. With his free hand, he parted your cheeks open squeezing the flesh underneath one of his hands before he kept teasing your entrance. His thumb moved upwards finding that small bundle of nerves right where he knew it would be. You choked your moan by kissing him once again and he gratefully devoured each one of your moans.
With a swift movement, he notched the skimpy and delicate fabric to the side. And then he was sinking two long and thick fingers inside you. Immediately, breaking the kiss, your lips parted open in a silent moan, jaw going slack.
The stretch stung as he buried his fingers deep until your achy cunt swallowed them entirely reaching his knuckles. A small laugh escaped his lips when you began to grind against his fingers, chasing your own pleasure.
His hand on your backside immediately moved up to shield your head when you almost hit it against the trap door. "Easy there, doll." Cassian mumbled softly, the gentle gesture making you clench around his fingers.
Cassian curled his fingers inside you finding the spongy patch of flesh that forced a cry out of your lips: "There you go, my beautiful," He whispered softly as he worked his fingers in and out. "Tell me what you want."
You almost laughed at his words. It was as if he was searching for your consent despite the way you were desperately grinding against his fingers while you moaned inches away from his mouth. The brute was in fact a gentleman, Cassian was indeed a gentle lover.
"I want you, Cassian," You mumbled against his lips connecting them with yours for a few seconds before nibbling on his lower lip. "Just you."
He growled. "Gods, doll... Come for me." His voice sounded almost like a plead as his thumb found your clit again. It only took a couple of lazy circles of his finger before you were making a mess of them, soaking his entire palm as a cry escaped your lips, your body stiffening before you buried your face in his neck breathing in his scent so that you could anchor yourself to something while being sent over the edge.
Cassian shushed you, still working his fingers inside you, trying to ride you out of your pleasure. "Good girl," He muttered, making your sensible walls clench around his fingers again. "Gods, I've jerked off so many times thinking about this before." His blunt admission caused a blush to color your cheeks as you looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. Cassian withdrew his fingers from you making you feel empty. You whimpered before he brought his glistening and sticky fingers to his lips sucking them dry while you observed.
The Illyrian savored the feeling of your juices on his fingers as if they were a damn meal. So much so that his eyes rolled back to his skull.
"So you've jerked off to me, huh?" You asked teasingly and he growled softly.
"Shut up." His lips were right over yours again forcing you to taste the salty but sweet taste of your orgasm on his tongue. You heard him roughly fiddling with the ties and buttons of his trousers and a small giggle escaped your lips before you moved down pressing gentle kisses against his jaw and neck.
Your skin sunk on the tanned skin there, leaving gentle marks that you soon soothed with a flicker of your tongue that only caused goosebumps to blossom around his skin.
Cassian growled against your ear when his large and hard manhood was revealed from its restraints. He gripped himself around the base and you looked down. The view made your breath hitch. Gods, was he big. You even doubted it would fit inside as you watched him pump himself a few times.
"Cassian, I don't think I..." You began but he quickly interrupted you. "I'll make it damn fit."
Cassian slid his length against your messy folds, smearing himself in the wetness of your arousal so that he could stretch you open more easily and less painfully. One hand moved up to cup your breasts while the other remained on your hips. He circled your nipples through the fabric of your shirt between his rough calloused fingers, toying with them.
His pupils had become pools in his eyes almost making the golden shrink into a small halo around the darkness of his lured eyes that stared right into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful. The damn picture of perfection." He repeated.
A gentle smile appeared on your lips and you relaxed against his arms. You were relaxed until you felt it. His thick grith slowly pushing inside you. A moan broke your voice as he slowly stretched you open.
"Doing so good for me, baby." Cassian muttered before moving to press a gentle kiss against your forehead, he pulled out before sinking in a few more inches and your needy cunt clenched around him swallowing his cock.
"More," You begged softly, tilting your head to find his lips. "I need you. All of you." He groaned and suddenly, Cassian sunk himself as deeply as he could inside you. His hips flesh against yours as his hands had lowered you completely into his cock.
"Gods—" You moaned and he held still for you to be able to adjust to his girth. One hand remained on your hips while the other moved to cup your cheek so that he could look into your eyes the entire time.
When you nodded telling him that you were alright, Cassian whimpered and he shifted you both in the tiny space before retreating and then thrusting in even deeper than before, the head of his cock caressing your cervix.
Cassian pumps in and out of you, small groans escaping his lips as he gets lost in the feeling of your sensitive walls tightening around him. He could feel your wetness slicking his cock each time he pulled out before he would thrust again. His golden eyes were locked with yours as he took in the way your face contorted with pleasure. Committing the moment to his memory.
He smirks feeling your body shake with each one of his hard thrusts. His hand gently caresses your cheek despite the roughness and eagerness of his movements. "Gods, you were made for me, doll." "I feel like I was made for you." You gasped in response and soon his fingers moved down to caress the swollen bundle of nerves making you cry out with pleasure.
Cassian leaned in closer to press his forehead against yours. "You are," He mumbles noticing the way you arched your back to meet each one of his strokes. "You are... Made for me— Mine."
His growls made you whimper and you felt your body stiffen above him. "Cass.. I'm close to—." He didn't allow you to finish your sentence, thrusting in even deeper and circling your clit desperately before you were coming undone on his cock.
A loud cry escaped your lips before he kissed you gently while your walls tightened around him, your legs trembling due to the electric current coursing through your body and struggling to support yourself over him. The sensation makes him groan and when you screamed his name, he's already tightening his grip over your hips.
He spills rope after rope of his thick and warm spend, flooding your insides as he closes his eyes. Cassian's forehead was still pressed against yours as he panted heavily against your face. He remained buried deep inside you pulling in and out slightly so that your tight walls would milk him completely before he pulled out.
And then you both opened your eyes. Glossy gazes locking with each other and tired smiles over your lips before it happened.
Your breath hitched as his speed dripped out of you and the golden bridge between both your souls constructed itself brick by brick. It left your already hazy mind feeling even more bewildered. You caught sight of Cassian's excited and tender smile before fully realizing it.
He was your mate.
Oh, damn it.
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fettuccin-e · 1 year
Text
Patience Long Gone
Kinktober Day 4: Thigh Riding
Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, thigh riding obviously, praise, dry humping (yeah that's right nobody gets naked), Jackson!era, Joel talks dirty yeah I said it (w/c: 1.1K)
A/N: Ayo first Joel fic and it's during Kinktober ofc. I have been reading too many Joel fics to not partake in the old man thirst okay. And also have you seen this gif??? I want to ride that man's thigh like its a rodeo okay!! (For the month I have been following this list by flightlessangelwings!)
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He can’t fuck you like he wants to, not right now. And God, Joel wants to, so badly. But there’s no time. There’s never any fucking time.
He hadn’t minded the hustle and bustle of Jackson when he and Ellie first arrived. He’d been grateful for the distraction, for the feeling of being useful again. He’d been grateful for the patrols, the odd repairs around town that didn’t require any socializing, content in his solitude with Ellie safe and sound within the town’s walls.
And then he’d met you. Sweet, soft, you, that doesn’t take any of his bullshit, forces him out of his shell with your sharp wit and endless patience. You, who Tommy introduced to him as the town veterinarian, until you became so much more. You, who asked him to fix your doorframe so, so sweetly, and not five minutes into his work, dragged him into your home and into your bed.
He never truly left.
But there’s no time to treat you like he wants to, fuck you like both of you need. There’s always something else, a threat at the border, an emergency in the stables. He hasn’t seen you cum in weeks, and the thought makes him shudder. He has the most beautiful woman in this entire godforsaken world, and he can’t even find the time to make her feel so fucking good.
It’s one of those few moments where you both are home, exhausted but not nearly tired enough to sleep. You’d crawled into his lap like a damn cat, planting yourself on his thick thigh, all languid grace and allure that has his cock aching in his jeans.
You curl two fists into his shirt, pulling him to your lips, and fuck, this is nothing like the stolen kisses you share in the spare moments you find with each other. This is water in the desert. This is life, not just survival. You’re so fucking soft against him, you scent invading his nose.
“Missed you,” you breathe between kisses, “Missed you so much, Joel.”
He groans, curling his fingers into your hair. He licks softly at your bottom lip, begging wordlessly for you to open for him. You do, without hesitation, and moan in a way that has his head spinning as he licks into your mouth. 
“God, sweetheart,” he grumbles as you break apart for breath. “You’re so goddamn pretty. Missed you too, sweet girl, been missin’ you so fuckin’ bad.”
He lets his hands explore you, roaming down your back, up under your shirt to feel that soft, soft skin. He paws over the curve of your ass, and he can’t help but smirk into your mouth as your hips buck forward.
“Needy,” he drawls, but he pushes on your ass again, making your hips buck forward along his thigh. Fuck, it’s good, the way you moan so pretty for him. “You wanna cum, pretty girl?” he croons. You nod so hard he thinks your head may fly off, but you seem to think better of it far too soon for his liking, shaking your head, as if to dismiss the very thought of chasing your own pleasure.
“I’m supposed to help Maria- fuck,” you curse as he leans down to sink his teeth into your neck. “I’m supposed to help Maria with the horses, Joel.”
“She can wait,” he growls, and he pulls on your hips, dragging you up his thigh. You keen involuntarily, the seam of your jeans pressing so hard, so perfect into your clit. “Just want you to feel good, wanna make you feel good.”
His voice is dark, a rasp that has your pussy soaking through your panties. He’s so big, so broad, and his thigh is providing a kind of pressure against your cunt that you haven’t felt for so long. It’s too much of a temptation for you to ignore. You pull your hips back again in a slow, sure drag, before humping back forward. You tuck your face into the crook of Joel’s neck as you let out a high-pitched whine.
“Good fucking girl, sound so pretty for me,” he murmurs, “Don’t that feel nice?” 
You nod frantically into his skin, hands fisting into his shirt so tight your knuckles go pale. You hump your hips forward, again and again and again, moaning as your clit throbs in your panties. Joel’s grip remains tight on your hips, helping you along, pressing you down harder. Your head swims, tears springing to your eyes.
“Need to cum,” you gasp, wriggling your hips in desperate little grinds. “Need to cum so fucking bad, Joel, fuck- I’m, I need it, ah-” You feel desperate, needy, unable to string together a sentence is you hump Joel’s thigh like an animal.
“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, grumbling and wonderful. “I’m gonna make you cum right now, okay sweetheart? And when you get home tonight, I’ll be here to do it again and again, right baby?” The thought has you aching, desperately humping into his jeans. You’re so close, you’re so fucking close.
“I’ll lay you down in our bed, sweet girl, and I’ll eat that pretty cunt out like you deserve, fuck, haven’t tasted you in so fucking long.” Joel pulls you along his thigh as he speaks, flexing the muscle underneath that makes the pressure so much more devastating. “And then I’ll sink my cock into your pretty little pussy, fuck you full of me, baby. I’ll keep stuffin’ you full, make you cum so much you soak the sheets through, and I’ll just keep goin’, right baby? God, I’ll make sure you can’t fuckin’ walk tomorrow,” he snarls his words, a violent, primal promise that has your body quaking in his hold as you cum against his thigh.
You sob with the force of your orgasm, curling into Joel’s solid body as he holds you through it, cooing into your ear how good you are, how gorgeous you look. It’s like you can’t suck enough air into your lungs, trying to get ahold of yourself again. Joel never lets you go, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
When you finally regain control of your breath, your body, you can only tilt your head to his lips to kiss him softly, gently. 
“You didn’t get to cum,” you whine, and Joel chuckles at how forlorn you sound. His beautiful, perfect girl, so caring, so doting.
“Trust me, sweetheart,” he grumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “When you get home tonight, I have plans for both of us that’ll have us wrung fuckin’ dry by mornin’.”
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alesandraelin · 1 month
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𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 - 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚊 𝙿𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Description: you distract Alexia from her workout
Warnings: smut
Pink haired Alexia tho 😍🤤
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Alexia put the final weights back onto the rack, her breath coming in deep, measured gasps. The home gym was bathed in a warm morning glow that filtered through the large windows, casting long shadows on the floor. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, reveling in the post-workout high. Her legs were strong, her arms were toned, and her heart was pounding with the satisfaction of a session well executed.
It was a rare day off from the rigorous training schedule, and she was making the most of it. The gym had become her sanctuary—a place where she could push her limits and then let her mind wander. Today, however, the usual solitude was interrupted by the presence of you.
You peeked in from the doorway having just woken up, your eyes catching the sight of Alexia’s movements. There was something undeniably captivating about watching her, the way she seemed so focused and determined. You were drawn in, standing there as a silent observer until a mischievous idea began to form in your mind, an idea that made your stomach flutter.
As Alexia prepared for another set of reps, you tiptoed into the room, careful not to make a sound. Your plan was simple: distract Alexia and turn this workout into something far more playful. You approached slowly, your fingers lightly brushing against the side of Alexia's arm.
Alexia tensed for a moment, her focus momentarily breaking as she turned her head to see you. A smile spread across her face as she saw the glint of mischief in your eyes.
"Hey, I’m trying to focus here," Alexia teased, though the corners of her mouth were upturned.
You grinned and leaned in closer. "And I’m here to make sure you don’t work too hard. How about a break?"
Alexia’s eyebrows shot up in playful surprise. "A break? I’ve barely started."
You didn’t reply immediately. Instead, you placed a hand on Alexia’s shoulder and gently pushed her down onto the bench. "I think you’ve earned a little distraction."
Before Alexia could protest, you climbed onto the bench beside her. You took Alexia’s face in her hands, your proximity making the world outside the gym seem distant. Alexia's breath hitched, not from exertion but from the warmth of your touch.
"What are you up to?" Alexia asked, her voice a blend of amusement and curiosity.
You continued to trace Alexia's face, her thumb brushing over the older woman's lips before she pulled away, standing up. "Oh nothing. Finish your workout baby." You walked out of the room with a smirk on your face knowing exactly what Alexia was thinking. Not even having to look back to know of the expression on your lover's face.
As you made your way back into the bedroom you felt a hand grip suddenly around your wrist and knew exactly who it was.
Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Alexia leaned in and pressed her lips to yours in a kiss that was both sudden and electrifying.
The kiss was a blend of sweetness and urgency, a playful exploration that quickly deepened. Your hands roamed gently over Alexia’s shoulders, pulling her closer, while Alexia’s arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you in with a need. The world outside the gym seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in their private bubble of affection.
Your lips were soft against Alexia’s, moving with a kind of tender insistence that made Alexia’s head spin. Each kiss was a mixture of playful teasing and heartfelt emotion, a dance that left Alexia breathless and eager for more.
As your lips stayed connected, Alexia moved you both through the door to your shared bedroom, pushing you down onto the bed as she disconnected your lips with heavy breathing.
"That was cheeky amor." Alexia said as she looked down at you, caging you in with a hand either side of your head.
"Maybe that was the point." You smirk back at her as you watch her eyebrow raise.
"I think you just want attention bebita." Alexia whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine and to your core.
"Please" thats all you manage to whimper out, you voice trembling in need.
"if my pretty girl wants attention that's what she'll get." Alexia assured you as her lips attack your neck, sucking and biting harshly, leaving red marks in your skin that both of you know will be there for at least a few days.
She pulls away from your neck to unbutton the pyjama top you were wearing, peeling it off your skin before her lips attack your skin once again, travelling down to your chest. Her hand comes up to massage one of your breasts as her tongue flicks and sucks at the other before switching to give them both attention.
She finishes with your chest before kissing softly down your sternum and down your stomach before she finds herself at the waistband of your panties. She looks up to you for permission which you give with a nod and a "please Ale."
Alexia makes quick work to take them off and throw them across the room "God, you're so pretty..." she mumbles as she looks at you, desperate and aching for you.
"Alexia, please I need you." You whine in anticipation.
Alexia chuckles lightly before parting your thighs with her hands, holding your thighs into place so you can not move and squirm. She surprises you by flattening her tongue against your core and licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, repeating this a few times before sucking down on your bundle of nerves.
The sound of your moans filled the entire house, the pleasure Alexia was giving you was like no other you have ever felt. Your hands lace in her hair, pushing her further into your core, which she would never ever complain about.
Her tongue worked in and out at you vigorously, always managing to find the spot inside you that made you more of a moaning mess than you already were.
The grip you has in her hair was becoming tighter and Alexia knew you were reaching your peak. "Alexia, please, 'm close." You moan as she somehow speeds up even faster, intensifying the feeling on a ten fold. Her tongue moves against you with more urgency, pushing and lapping at you, trying to bring you closer.
"Alexia." You moan as her tongue brings you to your high, that feeling of ecstasy easing over you in relief, your back coming back down to the mattress and you moaning ceasing as Alexia pulls away.
She gently moves your body to sit up against the pillows before taking you in a breath taking kiss. "So good for me amor, was that what you wanted?" Alexia asks.
"mhm" thats all you manage to say as you cuddle into your girlfriends side, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. "I love you Ale."
"I love you too sweetheart." Alexia chuckles as she pulls you closer into her side.
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seoulzie · 2 months
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after school activities
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WHEREIN: late-night work sessions reveal hidden feelings between the president and vice president.
彡 pairing: student council president!jun x vice president!reader 彡 genre: smut 彡 warnings: fingering, pussy eating, semi-public, markings (scratching, hickeys, biting) & pet names (baby)
SEUL SPEAKS! this was a requested fic but i accidentally deleted the ask (┬﹏┬) nonetheless! I'll take my chances & post it either way ㅎㅎ
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it was the final stretch before the school festival, and the weight of responsibility had fallen heavily on the student council's shoulders. yeonjun, the esteemed student council president, and you, his dedicated vice president, had taken it upon yourselves to ensure everything went smoothly. as the clock ticked past regular school hours, the hallways emptied, and the sounds of students' chatter faded into the quiet hum of the building's ventilation system.
the council room was lit dimly, papers scattered across the large wooden table in organized chaos. the rain outside created a soothing backdrop, a steady patter against the windows that contrasted with the intensity of your work. you both stayed late, poring over last-minute details, the pressure to deliver a successful festival mounting.
“yeonjun, i think we should recheck the seating arrangements for the performances,” you suggested, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you scanned the documents.
he nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “good idea. we don’t want any mishaps on the day itself.”
most of the school's personnel and students had long gone home, leaving the two of you in the peaceful solitude of the council room. the silence was comforting, yet it also amplified the unspoken tension that had been building between you and yeonjun over the past few weeks. the subtle touches, the lingering looks, and the gentle pats had not gone unnoticed.
you reached for a pen, your fingers brushing against his. a spark of electricity passed through you at the contact, causing you to glance up, only to find yeonjun already looking at you. his eyes held a depth of emotion you hadn't noticed before, and it made your heart race.
“sorry,” you mumbled, pulling your hand away, but yeonjun’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.
“don’t be,” he said softly, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “i’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”
your breath hitched, and you nodded, unable to find your voice. yeonjun stood up, moving around the table to stand in front of you. he cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, and you leaned into his hand instinctively.
“we’ve been spending a lot of time together,” he began, his voice steady but nervous. “and... i’ve been feeling something more.”
your heart started to race, anticipation building.
“i like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve liked you for a while now.”
your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding in your chest. “i… i like you too, yeonjun,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.
a small smile tugged at his lips before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. it was sweet, exploring, and filled with unspoken emotions. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second.
yeonjun pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with yours. “are we supposed to be doing this?” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
you searched his eyes, seeing the same conflict reflected in them that you felt. “i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “but it feels right.”
he nodded, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “yeah, it does.”
with a shared understanding, you both leaned in, your lips meeting again with more fervor. the hesitation melted away, replaced by a growing urgency. yeonjun’s hands roamed your body, caressing your sides, igniting a fire within you. he guided you toward the couch, laying you down gently as he hovered above you. the rain outside grew heavier, mirroring the intensity building between you two.
his kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a path of burning desire. you moaned softly as he nipped at your skin, sucking and biting, leaving marks that claimed you as his. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, craving more of his touch.
you gasped as his hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at you.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hand moving higher, slipping under your bra to cup your breast. his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
you arched into his touch, a whine escaping your lips. “please, yeonjun,” you begged, your voice trembling with need.
he smirked, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. his hand squeezed your breast, his thumb and index finger rolling your nipple between them, making you whimper against his mouth. he pulled back just enough to tug your shirt and bra off, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.
“so perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your collarbone to your chest. he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand continued to knead your other breast. you writhed beneath him, your body on fire.
he switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his hand slipping down to unzip your skirt. he slid them off along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. his fingers brushed over your core, already slick with arousal, making you shudder.
“you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your folds. he circled your clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you see stars.
“yeonjun, i need you,” you pleaded, your hips bucking against his hand.
he kissed his way down your body, spreading your legs wider as he settled between them. his breath was hot against your core, his tongue flicking out to taste you. you cried out, your hands fisting in his hair as he licked and sucked, his fingers teasing your entrance.
“oh, god, fuck,” you moaned, your body trembling with pleasure.
he slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit that sweet spot that left you breathless. he added another finger, pumping them in and out, his tongue never letting up on your clit. you were on the edge, your orgasm building rapidly.
“i’m gonna come,” you gasped, your body tensing.
“do it,” he urged, his voice husky. “come for me.”
with a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. he continued to pump his fingers, drawing out your pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless.
he climbed back up, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “i need you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i need to be inside you.”
you nodded, your hands reaching down to unbutton his pants. he quickly shed them along with his boxers, his erection springing free. he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking onto yours.
“are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky.
you nodded, your own desire reflected in your eyes. “yes, i want this.”
yeonjun’s lips found yours again as he entered you, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left your eyes rolling. his hands gripped your hips, leaving marks where his fingers dug into your skin, his name a constant mantra on your lips. the room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rain outside only adding to the symphony.
your nails raked down his back, leaving red trails, and he groaned in response, his movements becoming more urgent. you felt the tension building within you, every touch, every kiss pushing you closer to the edge.
“yeonjun, i’m close,” you moaned, your body arching against him.
“me too,” he panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “let go, baby.”
with a final cry, you both reached your climax, your bodies trembling with the intensity of your release. yeonjun collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both tried to catch your breath. he kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
“that was amazing,” you whispered, snuggling closer to him.
yeonjun chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “it was.”
as the rain continued to fall outside, you lay in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. in that moment, everything felt perfect, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.
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THE NEXT DAY a little post-credit scene bc i got carried away hehe
you walked into school the next morning, your body still buzzing from the night before. the memory of yeonjun’s touch lingered on your skin, and as you swung your locker door open, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the chipped mirror, .you noticed several hickeys peeking out from under your collar. you quickly adjusted your shirt, trying to cover them, but the effort was futile; the marks were too many and too obvious.
“hey, did you sleep at all?” one of your friends asked, approaching you with a teasing smile. “you look like you had a wild night.”
you blushed, your mind flashing back to the moments on the council office’s couch. “just stayed late working on festival stuff,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded nonchalant.
“yeah, right,” your friend laughed, nudging you playfully. “i’m sure the ‘festival stuff’ was really intense.”
before you could respond, yeonjun walked up, his own shirt doing a poor job of hiding the marks you had left on him. his eyes met yours, and a knowing smile curved his lips.
“morning,” he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
“morning,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up.
your friend’s eyes widened as they looked between the two of you. “wait, did you two…?”
yeonjun wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “we were just working late,” he said with a wink, making you blush even harder.
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⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme , @missmoaforbeom , @lun4kazumii , @s0urcherry , @rianrishu, @blossommi ⤷ want to get notified? click here!
© 2024 seoulzie
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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Beautiful Monster
Vampire!Max is instantly hooked when he meets a girl that looks like the vampire that turned him. He searches for her, until he finds himself on her sofa, teeth against her neck.
Warnings: max killing (not reader), blood drinking, slightest smut, reader doesn't die but she is lowkey a dumb bitch
Viv's AUgust Event
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There was nothing wrong with the house on the hill. It was probably very nice inside, but the rumours that surrounded it, the rumours about the beast inside.
He knew the rumours around him, knew what the children said as they dared each other to ring his doorbell and run away. The curtains were always drawn and the beast rested through the day, emerging at night.
He was so damn beautiful, but he didn't see that (yes, he can see his reflection in the mirror, since his mirror is a modern mirror and not backed with silver). He saw the monster that everybody else should have seen. But everybody else saw an angel.
Well, before they died. That was the only time he emerged from his house; to feed. The pretty girls at the bar happily followed him out to the alleyway, where he sank his sharp teeth into their neck and drained them dry.
She would have followed him out to the alley, would have let him pierce the skin of her neck. But Max couldn't. She looked too much like her.
Like Max's first love. The woman that drew him in and kissed his lips until they were red and swollen. He'd been human back then. His heart had been beating and he was capable of feeling love.
She had bitten his neck and fed him her blood, turning him into the nocturnal beast he was today. A hundred years of solitude, of only emerging when he needed to feed.
At first Max thought it was her. It had to be, there was no other explanation. But he watched this woman carefully. She was alive. A living, breathing being. She wasn't a monster like him.
The first time she approached him, she fluttered her eyelashes and giggled at everything he said. Flirting with him. She wasn't the first woman to do so, but she was the first one to leave him tongue tied.
Normally, Max only danced with her when he had to. He only twirled a girl around the dance floor when he was hungry and she was making him work for it. But when she asked Max to dance, he said yes. He already knew he wouldn't be feeding from her, she looked too much like his first love.
At the end of the night Max was draining another girl in the alleyway before he returned to the house on the hill. But he couldn't get her out of his head.
So much so that he went out again the next night. But she was nowhere to be found. She wasn't at the bar, wasn't anywhere at all. She must have been home, safe from all of the monsters roaming the town, safe from him.
Max went out again the next night, searching for her. She wasn't at that bar, but she was in the park, sitting on a beach with a little dog running around in front of her.
When Max approached, the little dog growled. "Leo!" She scooped the dog up and sat him in her lap.
Max had never been a dog person. Even when he was human, cats preferred him. Things only got worse once he was turned. Dogs growled and barked at him. Cats still tolerated him.
"Is he yours?" Max asked as he slipped into the seat beside her. The way she petted Leo's ears had him quiet in her lap. If it was possible, he would have been glaring at Max.
She shook her head. "He belongs to my friend, but I'm taking care of him while he's out of town."
He released a breath, one he hadn't meant to hold. So what if she owned a dog? She was just some mortal woman who would die in a few hundred years anywhere (when you're living forever, it's easy to forget how long the human lifespan was).
"You were a good dancer," she mused, fingers still absentmindedly petting Leo's head.
"I had a good partner."
What did she taste like, Max found himself wondering. Would her taste be as sweet as her scent? He could feel his fangs appearing as he ran his tongue over his teeth.
He kept them covered as he spoke to her. Well, it wasn't really a conversation. Just the two of them flirting back and forth until she picked him up and took his hand in her own, leading him out of the park.
Max didn't expect to end up on her sofa, with the dog barking away in the kitchen. He kissed her with fervour, his tongue exploring her mouth. In control of the situation, since he couldn't control himself.
She swung herself onto his lap as Max pulled away. It would be so easy to sink his teeth into her neck and drain her dry.
He couldn't stop himself as he started kissing the skin of her neck. She gasped when she felt his pointed teeth against her skin. But she wasn't pulling away, wasn't panicking. Her hips still moved against his, fingers working at the barrier of clothes that separated them.
But then his teeth sank in.
She stilled, breath catching in her throat as Max slowly began to drain her. But then she began to moan.
He knew it was a pleasurable experience for humans, remembered it from when he was still a man. She tasted so damn sweet, body going limp against him. Shit, he had never tasted anything like this.
Breath heaving, he pulled away from her. His tongue flattened against the puncture wounds, licking up what remained. Her hand came to settle on his chest and she looked at him with wide eyes.
"You're a monster," she said between breaths, too exhausted to rock her hips against his. If Max decided to explore what was in her jeans, he would have found an undeniable mess. "A beautiful monster."
She touched his cold cheek and pulled his face towards her own, kissing him.
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frostdayz · 2 months
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sweet nothing
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Aemond x reader (f! reader)
genere: fluff
summary: Aemond wakes up to see his dear wife getting ready for the day and he can't help but get up and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over our chambers. I stirred, feeling the gentle warmth on my face, and slowly opened my eyes. Aemond was still asleep beside me, his features relaxed and peaceful in the early morning light. I watched him for a moment, my heart swelling with love for the man who had become my world.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and began to get ready for the day. The castle was still quiet, the servants not yet stirring, and I cherished these early moments of solitude. I moved to the vanity, brushing out my hair and pinning it up with delicate care. The gown I chose for the day was a rich shade of deep green with silver details, one of Aemond's favorites, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of his reaction.
As I fastened the final clasp on my dress, I felt a familiar warmth at my back. Strong arms encircled my waist, pulling me gently against a firm chest. Aemond's breath was warm against my ear as he nuzzled into my neck, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
"Good morning," I replied, leaning into his embrace. "I did not mean to wake you."
He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against my skin. "I don't mind. Waking up to see you is worth losing a bit of sleep."
I turned in his arms to face him, my heart fluttering at the sight of his adoring gaze. His silver hair was tousled from sleep, and his eye, the one not hidden behind his patch, sparkled with affection. I reached up to cup his cheek, my thumb tracing the sharp lines of his face.
"You always say the sweetest things," I teased, though my voice was thick with emotion.
Aemond's smile was slow and mischievous as he leaned down to capture my lips in a tender kiss. His hands roamed up and down my back, holding me close as if he couldn't bear to let me go. I melted into his touch, the warmth of his body a comforting balm to my soul.
"I can not help it," he murmured against my lips. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
I blushed, my heart soaring at his words. "And you are the most handsome."
He chuckled again, the sound vibrating through my chest. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear wife."
I laughed, the sound light and joyous in the quiet morning. "Then I shall continue to flatter you, my dear husband."
Aemond's hands moved to my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the vanity. I gasped, my laughter turning into a soft moan as he pressed himself between my legs, his lips trailing kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
"You drive me mad." he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
"Do I?" I asked breathlessly, my fingers tangling in his hair.
"Absolutely," he replied, capturing my lips in another searing kiss.
The world outside our chambers ceased to exist as we lost ourselves in each other. Aemond's touch was gentle yet possessive, his kisses both tender and demanding. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.
"I love you," I whispered against his lips, my voice trembling with the intensity of my feelings.
"And I love you," he replied, his eye dark with emotion. "More than anything in the seven kingdoms."
We stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside our door forgotten. It was in these quiet, stolen moments that I felt truly alive, truly loved.
Eventually, we reluctantly pulled apart, knowing that the day awaited us. Aemond helped me down from the vanity, his touch lingering as if he couldn't bear to be away from me. I smiled up at him, my heart full to bursting with love and gratitude.
"Shall we start the day?" I said softly, taking his hand in mine.
"Together," he agreed, his smile warm and reassuring.
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thewulf · 4 months
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Teaching Trails || Azriel
Summary: Request - can i request a teacher reader x azriel where she's Nyx's teacher/tutor and feyre or rhysand asks az to pick him up since they're busy and he swears he falls in love on sight seeing reader be so sweet on Nyxie and how comfortable Nyx is around reader? just something sweet and fluffy and maybe a super nervous az when reader notices him at the doorway?? You can decide the rest. love your work!
A/N: Ahhhh I loved writing this. Idk I just picture Nyx as a sweet bubbly 5/6 year old in this. Adored writing this!
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)
Word Count: 5.0k +
TW: Use of Magic (fluffy!!)
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As you stand at the edge of one of the many expansive terraces of the House of Wind, the air around you is crisp, the sky a clear, deep blue above the sprawling city of Velaris below. This majestic residence is perched like an eagle's nest atop a solitary mountain and commands a breathtaking view of the Night Court. Its beauty a sure giveaway to ancient power and elegance. Yet despite its grandeur there’s a poignant isolation to it. Especially for young Nyx, whose days are spent within these walls that soar closer to the stars than to the streets where other children play.
Inside the palace is a labyrinth of ornate halls and vast chambers. Each room a masterpiece of art and architecture designed for gods rather than a playful child. The echo of Nyx’s laughter often bounces off the high ceilings. A reminder of the solitude that accompanies his royal upbringing. He is a small but vibrant figure roaming the endless corridors exploring shadowed corners and hidden nooks. His solitude veiled by the splendor surrounding him.
It's during one such quiet evening as the horizon painted a watercolor of twilight hues that Feyre brings up her growing concern to Rhysand. They are in their private chambers. A place where the masks of High Lord and Lady can be set aside. Where vulnerabilities can be voiced without the weight of a crown.
"Nyx needs more than just us. He needs more than this palace," Feyre starts with her voice steady yet filled with an urgency that draws Rhysand’s full attention. "He’s missing out on normal interactions. The kind that happen away from royal duties and ceremonial greetings. He’s a child. He should be learning through play, through friendships formed in mud and laughter. Not just in state rooms and formal gardens."
Rhysand’s expression is torn. As a father he yearns for Nyx to have every happiness the world can offer. But as a ruler the thought of his son, so precious and so exposed, wandering beyond the enchanted safety of their home is daunting. "It's dangerous, Feyre," he counters. His voice laced with a protective edge. "The world isn’t always kind, especially not to those of royal blood."
"But isn’t it more dangerous to raise him in a bubble? How will he learn to lead? To understand his people, if he only ever sees them from a balcony or at formal events?" Feyre’s hands gesture emphatically. Her eyes alight with passion. "We need to let him explore, Rhys. We need to let him be a child. Not just a prince." Their conversation stretches into the night. Debates entwined with silent contemplations until a resolution begins to dawn much like the first light over the Sidra. Rhysand’s fears don’t dissipate entirely but his love for Nyx and his trust in Feyre’s instincts lead him to a concession.
"Alright," he says finally. A reluctant smile breaking through his concerns. "We’ll find him a teacher. Someone who can guide him, teach him, yes, but also someone who can take him beyond these walls. Let him learn about life. About our people through his own experiences. Not just through stories and reports."
Feyre’s relief is palpable and together they set out to find the perfect candidate. The search is exhaustive with candidates from across Prythian and beyond interviewed. They seek not just an educator but a guardian of sorts. Someone who understands the delicate balance of nurturing a child like Nyx. Someone who can foster his curiosity and protect his spirit.
The search for a tutor for young Nyx was not a decision taken lightly. Within the ornate conference room of the House of Wind, Feyre, Rhysand, and other key members of the Inner Circle—save for Azriel, who was away on duty—gathered to commence the rigorous interview process. The room was filled with an air of solemnity as each candidate presented themselves. Their credentials scrutinized not just for academic excellence but for a deeper understanding and alignment with the values of the Night Court.
Mor, with her keen sense of people, led the questioning. Her bright eyes missing nothing. Cassian injected moments of levity lightening the mood with his humor. While Amren's piercing gaze seemed to delve into the very souls of the candidates searching for sincerity and resilience. Each member of the Inner Circle brought their own perspective ensuring that the chosen teacher would not only educate Nyx academically but would also nurture his emotional and cultural development.
Then you entered the room. With a demeanor both warm and composed you introduced yourself. As you spoke about your educational philosophy making sure to emphasize experiential learning and emotional intelligence the panel was visibly impressed. Your background in educational psychology coupled with your years of experience teaching in diverse environments highlighted your capability to adapt and thrive in any teaching scenario. More importantly your genuine passion for fostering young minds resonated deeply with Feyre who nodded appreciatively at your thoughtful answers.
Throughout the interview, your approach to education which focused on developing both the intellect and the heart of a student was clearly aligned with the Night Court's ideals. You spoke of the importance of understanding each student's unique needs and adapting lessons to fit those needs. Even suggesting outdoor classes and cultural excursions that would allow Nyx to learn about his heritage in a tangible, engaging way.
As the interviews concluded and the candidates departed the room buzzed with discussions. It was clear to everyone that you stood out not just for your qualifications but for the gentle strength you exhibited. A trait they all deemed perfect for handling the sensitive nature of their prince's education.
When the decision was made Feyre personally reached out to offer you the position. The joy and excitement in your voice as you accepted was palpable. Aware of the immense responsibility of teaching the heir of the Night Court you were nonetheless thrilled by the opportunity to make a significant impact in a young child's life.
As you prepared to step into this new role your heart was buoyant with anticipation. Not just for the challenges ahead but for the chance to contribute to shaping a future leader of the Night Court. The trust placed in you by such revered figures was not just an honor but a truth to your life's work and passion igniting a fervent desire to start this new chapter.
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In the heart of Velaris away from the towering isolation of the House of Wind you spend a delightful morning with Nyx at one of the city's lush public gardens. The day is warm. The gentle buzz of the city a distant backdrop to the laughter and learning that fills the air around the two of you.
You laid out a picnic blanket under the shade of a towering silverleaf tree. The spread covered with books, sketchpads, and an assortment of colorful pencils. Today's lesson is about the flora and fauna of Prythian. A topic that has Nyx bubbling with excitement and curiosity. As he sketches a butterfly that landed briefly on the edge of your blanket you explain the role of pollinators in the ecosystem, delighted by his insightful questions and the meticulous care he takes with his drawing.
"Nyx, do you see how the colors of its wings can tell us about its environment?" you ask as you were pointing to the delicate patterns that mirror the blooms around you.
"Yes!" he exclaims. His eyes lighting up with understanding. "It’s like camouflage, right? They blend in to stay safe from predators!"
"Exactly," you reply. Your heart swelling with pride at his quick grasp of the concepts.
The lesson shifts seamlessly from science to history as you guide Nyx through the stories of the Night Court. Each tale woven into the landmarks visible from your spot in the garden. Nyx listens, rapt, as you tell him about the ancient fae who once walked these paths. The battles they fought and the peace that now thrives in their stead.
As the morning progresses Nyx's natural curiosity leads him to a question that makes you pause. His small voice tinged with genuine wonder. "Why don't you have wings like my mom, dad, Uncle Cassian and Uncle Az? Like that pretty butterfly?" he asks. His head tilting as he regards you thoughtfully.
You smile softly, touched by his innocent inquiry. "Well, not all fae have wings, Nyx. Just like not all flowers have thorns," you explain using an analogy you know he'll understand. "Each of us is unique with different abilities and gifts. It’s what makes us all special in our own way."
Nyx nods considering this. "I think it’s cool you don’t need wings to fly. You have books and stories that can take you anywhere," he decides with a wise look crossing his features that makes you chuckle.
"That’s a wonderful way to put it, Nyx. And remember, we all have our own ways of soaring," you say ruffling his hair affectionately.
As you begin to pack up the day's learning materials you lean closer to Nyx with a conspiratorial whisper. "Tomorrow, we’re going to do something special. We'll join a class with other children your age. You’ll get to play and learn together with them," you tell him watching his face light up with sheer delight.
"Really? I'll have friends to play with?" His voice is filled with excitement. His earlier thoughts about wings forgotten in the anticipation of meeting new friends.
"Absolutely," you assure him sharing in his excitement. "It’ll be a lot of fun and you’ll make lots of new friends."
Nyx's eyes sparkle with anticipation as he begins to imagine the possibilities. "I'm going to tell mom and dad all about it tonight!" he exclaims already planning out his evening conversation. "And I’ll tell Uncle Az too. He likes hearing about my adventures."
The mention of Azriel, whom you've only heard about through Nyx’s enthusiastic stories, adds an interesting layer to your perception of the mysterious figure. "That sounds like a great idea," you respond, amused, and intrigued by Nyx’s affectionate mention of his uncle. "It seems Uncle Az is quite the hero in your stories."
"Yeah! He’s really cool! He can disappear like a shadow and is always on secret missions," Nyx says. His admiration for Azriel evident in his wide eyes and animated gestures.
The day ends with Nyx bouncing along the path back to you classroom chatting animatedly about all the things he hopes to do with the other children. His excitement about sharing his upcoming school day with his family, especially with his beloved Uncle Az, whom you've yet to meet but feel like you already know through Nyx's tales, fills the air with joy.
Your heart warms at his enthusiasm knowing that these new experiences are exactly what he needs. As Nyx sketches another flower with his small hand moving confidently you know these moments of joy and anticipation are as precious to him as they are to you, nurturing not just a young prince’s mind but also his spirit. The connections he's building with his family, with you, and soon with his peers are shaping him into a thoughtful, well-rounded individual, ready to explore the world with confidence and curiosity.
As the sun begins to dip below the horizon casting a warm, golden light through the windows of your classroom the day's adventures wind down to a quieter, more reflective pace. You sit in a cozy corner of the room on a soft, plush cushioned area you've set up specifically for reading. Nyx nestles beside you as his energy from earlier now softened into the gentle tiredness of a day well spent. In your hands a beautifully illustrated book about the legends of Prythian opens to a page where the heroic deeds of ancient warriors are painted in vivid colors.
As you read aloud, your voice smooth and soothing, Nyx's eyelids begin to flutter gently. You notice his weary smile as he listens. The adventures of the day transforming into the adventures in the pages. Gently, almost instinctively, you begin to caress his hair. Smoothing it back from his forehead in a tender, rhythmic motion. It's a peaceful scene, the kind of simple, heartfelt moment that often goes unnoticed in the bustling life of the Night Court.
Unknown to you his Uncle Azriel stands at the doorway having arrived to pick up Nyx. He pauses there, a silent observer, taken aback by the tranquility and warmth of the tableau before him. His task had been simple. He was to retrieve Nyx and bring him home but the scene he encounters tugs at something deep within him. A longing for such unguarded peace.
Azriel watches as Nyx's breathing deepens, the sweet child drifting closer to sleep with each gentle brush of your hand. Your care for Nyx, so natural and affectionate, strikes a chord in Azriel. He's seen many facets of life. So many forms of relationships and bonds but the simplicity and purity of this moment resonate with him profoundly.
He remains there at the threshold hesitant to interrupt the moment. He was captivated by the gentleness of your interactions with Nyx. The world he usually inhabits—one of shadows and secrets—feels miles away from the soft warmth of this sunlit room. In this pause Azriel realizes that his task isn't just about escorting Nyx. It's about respecting and appreciating the sacred, everyday magic that people like you bring into Nyx's life.
Eventually though the story comes to an unfortunate end, and you close the book before looking down at Nyx to see him fully asleep. A contented expression on his young face. As you carefully consider how to wake him Azriel finally clears his throat softly announcing his presence.
You look up, startled slightly, your eyes meeting his for the first time. There's a moment of mutual acknowledgment. A silent appreciation for the scene he's just witnessed. An understanding that while your worlds may be different the care you show to Nyx bridges them beautifully. Azriel steps into the room. His movements gentle as he did not want to disturb the serene atmosphere you've created.
"Thank you for taking such good care of him," Azriel says quietly. His voice carrying a warmth that surprises even him. "He obviously treasures these moments with you."
"You're welcome. It's truly a pleasure teaching him," you reply with a warm smile. Your eyes reflecting genuine affection for Nyx.
As you gently wake Nyx his eyes flutter open gradually clearing as they adjust to the presence of another in the room. When he spots Azriel standing quietly by the door a bright, sleepy smile spreads across his face. He quickly scrambles to his feet, excitement replacing any remnants of sleepiness.
"Uncle Az!" Nyx exclaims. His voice filled with delight as he runs into Azriel's open arms. Azriel catches him effortlessly before lifting him into a warm hug. They share a moment, uncle and nephew reunited, their easy laughter filling the room. You grin recognizing him as the infamous Azriel in Nyx’s life.
Then as if struck by a sudden realization Nyx turns back towards you with a look of proud excitement lighting up his features. With a firm grip on Azriel's hand he pulls him closer to you and announces, "This is Miss Y/N, my favorite teacher ever!" His voice carries through the room filled with genuine admiration and joy.
Azriel's gaze shifts to you. A slight tension beneath his calm demeanor as he processes Nyx's enthusiastic introduction. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, his voice steady but softer than usual, a subtle undercurrent of nervousness mingling with his words.
You smile warmly, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard a lot about you, Azriel. Nyx tells me you're quite the hero," you say. Your tone light and inviting.
Azriel takes your hand and for a moment his usual composure falters under your gaze. He's momentarily taken aback not just by the warmth of your smile but by the unexpected impact of your presence. She's beautiful, he thinks, and kind... The realization that he's slightly awestruck surprises him. He finds himself momentarily lost for words.
"And I've heard you've been learning about heroes in your lessons with Nyx," he manages to say his voice carrying a hint of warmth that rarely surfaces. Nyx obviously pleased with the exchange claps his hands excitedly.
"Can we all walk back home together?" Nyx asks looking up at both of you with hopeful, bright eyes, “Please!” He adds in for good measure as if you weren’t going to immediately say yes to him.
"Of course, Nyx," Azriel responds after looking to you for confirmation.
You nod, gathering your belongings, and the three of you step out into the cool evening of Velaris. As you walk Nyx fills the air with chatter about his day seamlessly weaving together his two worlds with tales of butterflies and ancient warriors. Azriel listens with a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His initial nervousness easing as he's drawn into the simple joy of the moment. His thoughts linger on you, intrigued, and unexpectedly moved by the genuine connection forming between you, Nyx, and himself. A beautiful end to an enriching day.
As the three of you begin your walk back through the twilight streets of Velaris the usual calm that Azriel embodies seems to waver slightly. He is typically a figure of stoic composure, his presence both commanding and elusive shadowed by the mysteries of his duties as the Spymaster. However, today, as he walks beside you, something is distinctly different.
Azriel's steps are measured. His usual fluid grace tempered by a hint of uncertainty. His glances towards you are quick, almost cautious, as if he's trying to decipher an unfamiliar script. The conversation flows easily around Nyx's enthusiastic chatter about his day but each time you turn your attention directly to Azriel a subtle tension flickers across his features.
"You really have a wonderful way with Nyx," you say hoping to bridge the gap with kindness. "He's always so excited to share what he's learned with you."
Azriel nods. A slight flush visible beneath the dusky hue of his skin. "Thank you," he murmurs as his voice is softer than usual. "It's... it's good to see him so happy. You do a lot for him."
The simplicity of your interactions, the easy smiles and gentle teasing you offer to Nyx, resonate with Azriel in a way that is both heartening and unnerving. He's unaccustomed to feeling this way—unsettled yet drawn in, eager yet shy. His hands though normally steady and sure whether wielding a weapon or a shadow clench slightly at his sides betraying his internal struggle.
As Nyx runs ahead a little, bursting with energy as he recounts another part of his day, Azriel takes a moment to compose himself. He glances at you again. This time holding your gaze a moment longer than before. The vulnerability rarely seen by others is palpable now as it was a quiet admission of his nervousness.
"I'm... not usually this unsure," Azriel confesses quietly almost to himself. "But there's something about these moments…. seeing Nyx so at ease with you. It's more comforting than I anticipated."
Your response is a gentle smile, one that acknowledges his admission without pressing further. It's a smile that seems to say you understand that the quiet spaces between words can be filled with kindness, not just silence.
The rest of the walk continues with a softer ease. A budding respect forming amidst the shared glances and the fading light of day. Azriel's initial nervousness slowly ebbs away instead replaced by a quiet appreciation for the unexpected warmth this evening has brought into his usually guarded world.
As the three of you approach the grandeur of the House of Wind, the towering structure casts long shadows over the cobblestone paths. It’s presence as awe-inspiring as it is imposing. Nyx who was still bubbling with energy despite the day's adventures, rushes ahead. Clearly he was eager to recount his tales to Feyre and Rhysand. You pause at the entrance. The vast doors open as if welcoming back its prince.
"It's been a wonderful day, Nyx," you say, giving him a soft hug. "Don't forget to draw that butterfly we talked about!"
"I won't, Miss Y/N!" Nyx promises. His voice echoing slightly in the vast entryway. He turns and dashes inside as his laughter lingered in the air.
You turn to Azriel with a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for letting me share part of your evening. I should head back home now."
Azriel’s expression shifts. Concern etching his features. "It’s getting late," he observes while glancing at the skies, now painted with the deep blues and purples of dusk. "Please, allow me to walk you back to your home. The streets can be less than forgiving at this hour."
You pause appreciating his concern but ready to reassure him of your safety. "That’s very kind of you, Azriel, but it’s no worry. I know these streets well," you say as you turned to make your way down the path.
Before you can take more than a few steps a subtle but firm presence stops you. Looking down you see one of Azriel’s shadows has stretched out across the path in front of you almost playfully barring your way. It's a gentle unspoken plea that catches you by surprise echoing Azriel’s silent wish for you not to go alone.
Azriel takes a step forward. His gaze earnest. "I would truly feel better if I could ensure your safe return. Please," he adds. A rare hint of vulnerability in his voice that you hadn't expected.
Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes and touched by his quiet insistence you nod to him with a smile spreading across your face. "Alright, Azriel, if it means that much to you then I’d welcome the company," you agree. The warmth in your tone matching the softness in his eyes.
"Thank you," he replies visibly relieved. He quickly steps inside to ensure Nyx is settled and returns to you with a more relaxed demeanor ready to accompany you.
As you and Azriel begin the walk back to your home the streets of Velaris are bathed in the gentle glow of the stars and softly lit lanterns casting an enchanting light over the cobblestones. The atmosphere lends a serene backdrop to the conversation that begins to unfold between you.
"You know, Nyx speaks so highly of you," you start by breaking the initial silence with a warm tone. "He's always so excited after spending time with you. You must have some exciting tales from your duties."
Azriel chuckles softly. A sound so serene that it seems to dance in the night air. "Nyx has a way of making everything sound more thrilling than it might actually be. But yes, there are times when my duties hold some... intrigue." He pause, as if weighing what to share. "Mostly, I'm just ensuring that the court and our lands are safe. It's not always as adventurous as Nyx might depict."
"And what about when you're not cloaked in shadows and mystery?" you ask genuinely curious about the man beside you beyond his role as the Spymaster.
A hint of surprise flickers across Azriel's face. Surprised yet pleased by the interest you’re showing in him. "I enjoy solitude, usually. Reading, training... Though I have a fondness for sword making. It’s a craft that requires precision and patience much like my usual work but with a more tangible, creative result."
"Sword making? That’s fascinating," you remark smiling at the thought. "It must be rewarding to create something so intricate and vital."
"It is," he agrees. His voice softening ever so slightly. "And what about you? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"
You nod before reflecting on your simple pleasures. "I love hiking and just watching nature. There’s something peaceful about observing the natural world. Just seeing how it exists so beautifully without any need for interference."
The conversation flows naturally from there. The earlier apprehension melting into a mutual appreciation for each other’s hobbies and life outside of official duties. As you talk Azriel’s steps seem to synchronize with yours. His presence an incredibly comforting shadow by your side.
When you finally reach your doorstep the city around you has quieted even further. The only sounds being the distant murmur of the Night Court's nightlife and the gentle rustling of leaves. Azriel pauses, standing just a bit closer than before. His usually guarded demeanor dimmed under the starlight.
"Thank you for allowing me to walk you home," he says. His voice sincere and gentle as if reflecting the calmness of the evening.
"It was my pleasure," you respond, finding yourself reluctant to end the conversation. "I enjoyed our talk, Azriel. It’s nice to see the person behind the shadows."
He smiles. A true smile that reaches his eyes making them sparkle with a rare lightness. "I did as well. More than I expected. Perhaps we could do this again, maybe take a hike together?"
"I’d like that," you agree. Your heart light with the promise of future conversations, of shared paths both literal and metaphorical.
"Good night, Miss Y/N. Take care," Azriel says as he steps back ready to meld back into the shadows from which he came.
"Good night, Azriel. And thank you… for everything tonight," you call after him. A smile still playing on your lips as you watch him disappear into the night. The connection between you both stronger and sweeter for the shared walk under Velaris’ starlit sky.
In the days that follow Azriel finds himself inventing reasons to visit your classroom or accompany Nyx to his lessons more often than strictly necessary. Each visit, purportedly to check on Nyx’s educational progress or to discuss scheduling with you becomes a cherished opportunity for him to engage in brief, yet meaningful conversations with you.
Each encounter, ostensibly casual, subtly deepens his affection and admiration for you. He begins to notice the small details: the way your eyes light up when discussing a new teaching method, the gentle patience with which you guide Nyx through difficult lessons, and the enthusiasm that bubbles up when you talk about your nature hikes. Azriel who was typically reserved and composed finds himself drawn into your world of vibrant enthusiasm and heartfelt dedication.
One afternoon as Azriel stands somewhat hidden by the doorway of your classroom just like he did that first day he met you observes a particularly touching scene. Nyx, having mastered a particularly tricky spell, turns to you with a triumphant grin. You laugh, your joy as vivid as the sparkle in Nyx's eyes. He swears your laughter seems to light up the room.
Watching this Azriel feels a warmth spread through him. A warmth that has little to do with the sun filtering in through the windows. It’s in this simple, unguarded moment that he realizes his feelings for you have deepened beyond mere admiration. He's not just falling for your kindness towards Nyx but also for the genuine spirit and infectious joy you bring into every interaction.
As he steps away from the doorway with a thoughtful smile playing on his lips Azriel knows that what he feels is something profound and undeniable. Your spirit which was so vibrant and full of life calls to him in a way that no one else ever has. And as he walks away with his shadows trailing behind him he’s certain of one thing. He wants to explore where this connection might lead not just for Nyx's sake but for his own heart’s as well.
After ensuring that Nyx was safely back at the House of Wind you begin to make your way back towards your home. The day's light is waning casting long shadows that stretch across the cobblestone streets of Velaris, adding a mystical allure to the city’s evening charm.
As you step forward, the sound of your footsteps is a soft echo in the quieting city. You're lost in thought pondering the pleasant interaction with Nyx and looking forward to the solitude of your evening walk home. However, before you can get far you hear Azriel’s voice calling out from behind you.
“Wait, please!” His tone carries a blend of urgency and hesitation that halt’s you in your tracks.
You turn around surprised to see him approaching quickly. His usually composed demeanor replaced by a slight breathlessness. The shadows that always linger around him seem to pulse in sync with the heightened beat of his heart.
Azriel catches up to you. His expression earnest. “I just wanted to ask properly,” he starts, his voice steadying as he meets your gaze. “Would you join me for a hike this evening? There’s a trail not far from here that’s especially beautiful in the evening light. I think you’d really enjoy the views, and...” He pauses before taking a breath reassuring himself, “I would really enjoy the company.”
Your smile deepens, touched by his sincerity and the vulnerable way he presents his request. The softening of his features and the hopeful look in his eyes paint a picture of a man stepping beyond the shadows that define him.
“I would love to, Azriel,” you reply warmly. Your voice filled with genuine excitement. “It sounds like a perfect way to end the day.”
Relief washes over Azriel’s face. His usual stoic mask giving way to a rare, genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders. “Shall we meet at the edge of the city in half an hour?”
“That sounds wonderful,” you agree already anticipating the quiet beauty of the trail and the shared moments ahead.
As you both part ways to prepare for the evening hike the anticipation of the upcoming adventure brings a new spring to your step. Azriel turns back once more watching you walk away, his heart lighter. He realizes just how much he’s looking forward to exploring not only the natural wonders of Velaris but also the potential of a new and blossoming relationship with you. The thought brings that rare and hopeful smile to his lips. One that he carries with him as he disappears into the shadows to ready himself for the evening.
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miguel-owhora · 5 months
Text
dragon!price who's an alpha—a lonely alpha. he's been alone for quite some time now, his nest barren and empty, no mate to sing dragonic songs back to him miles away, no mate to rekindle the embers in his heart.
his hoard—sorry, the 141—help him fill these empty spots. soap's rambunctious attitude and gaz's encouragement and ghost's dryly amused comments fill in the lonely parts, bringing him down from the soaring heavens and back to the ground, where price hears the thumping of the earth's core if he falls back into his dragonic instincts deep enough.
dragons are rare to come nowadays. most spend their lives in secrecy, in some rural land most would struggle to pronounce the names of, spent hiding in either solitude or with their mates—and in certain cases, families.
so imagine price's surprise when laswell drops in a new member into his little hoard. she says it's temporary, but there's a glimmer on her eyes when she says it, one that makes sense when price sees you—another dragon.
an omega, price's alpha brain tells him, awakening with glee at another dragon hybrid, at someone who could complete him. a potential mate.
price's alpha instincts are purring when he introduces himself, and he must look like a fool, when he hears his boys sniggering in the background. something lights up something in his chest, instincts roaring to life, when you smile at him and shake his hand. your hand makes his burn, hotter than anything else, hotter than the fire he hatched out of.
it comes to no surprise to him when you're even more reserved than ghost. dragon hybrids are already secretive as they are; omega dragon hybrids are worse. but eventually, price worms his way past the walls you've put up and the fun part comes: courtship.
for every type of naturalborn hybrid that roams earth, they each have their own courtship rituals. for many of them, alphas must prove their worth to their potential mate. werewolf hybrids will bring back game, will defend territory; harpies—depending on which region they live in—will also prove their worth by bringing back prey and helping to build nests.
price can recall the number of times soap had dragged in the corpse of a deer, still warm and fresh to ghost, or how gaz had proudly weaved a wall of brambles and sticks (nevermind the nails and sharp blades) outside ghost's private room. it amused him to no end, seeing them fall prey to their instincts.
but price isn't laughing when he succumbed to his own instincts.
your introduction to the team and you letting price get close to you already had his dragonic alpha mind reeling with excitement. even moreso when you approved of him courting you.
now, dragon hybrids were something else. oftentimes, they were more older than the other hybrids, more ancient and forged deep within the earth's core, connected to mother earth like no other. as such, their courting rituals were more.. barbaric, in other words.
price feels alive when he has to fight you, when your claws dig at his skin and his teeth at your shoulder, near your bite mark. when you roar with fury and punch him away, when your omegan sex has his alphan sex pumping with life. when you both tear up the training room, your set of wings flapping and glittering underneath the artificial lights, when price finally pins you down, when you give a purr of approval.
price finds the prettiest items and gifts them to you, when he dances between feeling overjoyed when you accept it, feeling like he's been stabbed when you reject it. gift by gift price feels pride bloom within him when he sees your little gift hoard grow. when he gifts you a pack of his cherished cigars and gives you his signature hat, he has to go outside and do circles in the heavens when you accept it with gentle hands and carefully guard it.
all of his hard work pays off when you tug him by his scruff and take him to your bedroom, where your bed is carefully nestled with different blankets, with clothes that reek of him. he feels like the luckiest man when you strip yourself of your clothes and lay on the bed, letting your wings—gorgeous things they are—spread out underneath you, take up the bed. your cock, hard and leaking and big, lays on your belly, cum pooling like ichor.
you spread your legs, the scent of an omega ready to mate and take what's theirs, registering in price's brain. it's all he needs before he's racing to tear his clothes off and climbs on you.
he's purring loudly when he touches you all over, dipping his head to kiss at your body, thankful that you gave him the chance to prove his worth. your scent is thick and heavy, musk strong. it makes the embers in his chest flicker and grow to a small fire.
the fire grows when he slips his cock inside, shuddering at how tight and hot you are, burning him. you don't help him, content to lay back and let him figure it out, but price is more than happy to do it by himself. anything for you.
he gets you to cum several times, spilling all over your belly, makes you whimper his name, dig your claws into his back and pull him close to kiss him hard.
price is only ever given permission to cum when you decide he's worthy. your claws dig into your chest and rip it open, an ancient heart beating, cracks of old magic glowing an unusual color. price knows what's to come, but he still grits his teeth when you also rip his chest open.
his knot is forming, catching on your hole, when the two hearts—ancient and waiting for each other after so many years—intertwine together. price pushes his knot in and finally cums, fuck, he shudders and moans, in pleasure and in pain when he feels your anal barbs dig around his cock and knot, making sure he's secured for a while.
the world seems brighter when he collapses on you, open chests bleeding together. he gives little nudges of his hips, cockhead kissing your womb, brushing against your prostate. he feels you sigh contently, and price's heart is a wildfire.
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megvmijx · 2 months
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JEALOUS MEGUMI??? JEALOUS YUJI???
JEALOUS - megumi fushiguro
୭˚. ᵎᵎ notes: jealousy, swearing, characters are aged up! (i’ll do one for yuji as well!)
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having always been very reserved, even within your relationship, it has always been complicated for him to demonstrate his feelings and emotions, and even more complicated to say and express to you if there was something that was bothering him.
the first time you noticed that there was something wrong with his usual behavior it was during a rainy night.
you knew so well that your boyfriend was always very quiet, especially when you were in group with the others, but in the solitude of your room you hadn't heard his voice for a while, and it worried you.
“megs?” you called him, in a low voice, it was so silent that there was no need to shout. he came out of the bathroom, drying his black hair that fell in front of his face, still a little wet.
“mhm?” he answered, obviously pissed off, not by you, but by something else. his eyes were roaming through the room, trying to find something to concentrate on. “what’s wrong?” you asked him, patting on the sheets on your left, asking him to sit down next to you.
once seated he dropped the towel onto his shoulders, sighing deeply. "what’s up?" your hand found its place in his hair, caressing softly the back of his neck still wet from the shower. "it’s nothing." his gaze turned elsewhere.
“you know you can tell me anything, baby.” you said trying to reassure him, and to stop yourself from worrying. “you love me right?” the question left you speechless, not finding the point in asking, as it had always been obvious between you that there was no one else in each other’s life.
“of course i do, love. why wouldn’t i?” you chuckled softly at his question, placing a kiss on his temple and feeling his skin burning just from the simplest gesture. “i don’t know, i just got worried since that guy today…” what guy?
oh, yes. he was one of your friends from school, someone you’ve been knowing your whole life, you could say he was your best friend. you laughed just at the thought. “what’s so funny?” his voice sounded angry, but i was just because he was so embarrassed and felt being made fun of.
“‘gumi, he’s my best friend!” you looked at him lovingly, stroking his cheek as an attempt to comfort him, let him know that you loved only him. “but he was hugging you and shit…” he pouted. he was so cute. “cause that’s what best friends do.” he remained silent, his gaze directed downward.
“i love only you baby, there’s no one else in my life. it’s you.” “are you sure?” he said in a worried tone, he wasn’t used to having people being honest with him. “i’m sure.”
you placed a little peck on his lips. “i love you.” “i love you too.”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ nina.
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