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hysteria-things · 3 months

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ZIPPER (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the struggle is real for you and this stupid zipper. who knew it could lead to something with your brother’s best friend?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, swearing, oral (female receiving), p in v, degradation, dacryphilia, spanking, praising, orgasm denial, breeding, ROUGH ASF

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,889

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my favorite thing i’ve written so far and it’s DEF smuttier than anything else i’ve posted😭

you groan as you reach for the zipper that’s on your back. you’re wearing a short dress for the party you’re going to tonight with your brother and his three best friends. you sometimes tag along, and tonight is one of those nights. music from your speaker plays softly as you get ready.

or at least try to.

frustration builds in your body when you bend your arm at every angle to try to get the damn zipper, but it’s no use.

suddenly, a figure passes by your door. “nate?” you call out.

chris’s head peeks into your room with a chuckle. “nope. chris.”

you sigh. “can you help me with this zipper, please?”

it all happened so fast. the dress that you were struggling with minutes ago is now thrown on the floor along with your panties. the zipper is most likely broken by the way he yanked the dress off of your body.

your mouth is agape as you look down at chris between your thighs, who’s slowly licking up your folds. you breathe heavily, watching his every move. the music that was softly playing now plays loud so it can coat over the sounds coming from you.

your hands grip and massage his hair while you lean your head back onto the mattress and start grinding your hips against his face in desperate need of more friction. his nose grazes against your clit, his tongue following the movements of your hips.

his arms wrap under your thighs and hold you in place. “be patient.” he demands.

“they’re going to come look for us,” you whine in response.

“then we better use our time wisely, yeah?”

his tongue picks up speed, earning a gasp from you. your eyes roll to the back of your head, and soundless moans are leaving your lips that are formed in an ‘o’ shape. you lift your legs to where your knees are almost touching your cheeks, causing chris to dig into you deeper.

a warm sensation builds up in your stomach that makes your eyes squeeze shut and your eyebrows furrow. “i’m gonna cum.” you choke out, practically suffocating him as your legs squeeze in both sides of his head.

he doesn’t say anything and keeps eating you out, completely drunk off your pussy. although, he couldn’t help but take one of his hands to palm himself through his clothed erection.

your legs start to tremble when the fluid smothers all over chris’s mouth.

his face rises from between your legs. his lips are glistening from your release, and you see he has no shirt on. you didn’t even notice when he took it off and his tent is visible in his dress pants.

crawling onto the bed, he’s now hovering over your face. you stare at him in the eyes as his lips ghost yours. there’s so much tension that your lips tingle in desire to connect with his.

as if he read your mind, he leans in with an open-mouthed kiss. he hums at the contact, forcing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

it’s filthy, but you’ve never been so turned on.

he pulls away first to let you guys breathe, a string of saliva connecting each of your bottom lips before it breaks apart the more he moves away. “ass up, baby.”

without hesitation, you turn onto your stomach. his hands grip your waist and pull you up toward him so your ass is on full display. he groans at the sight. you’re still glistening from your orgasm.

chris undoes his belt and pulls down his pants and boxers simultaneously. his cock springs out, and the sudden whiff of cool air makes him wince. pre-cum leaks from the tip. it took everything in his body to not cum in his pants when he was eating you out.

you bite your lip in excitement as he grips your hips and teases your entrance. his tip makes its way into you, and it makes you wince in pain. “breathe for me, okay?” he reassures, pushing more of himself into you.

you let out a pained moan as you feel him stretching your walls. he’s fucking huge.

he sits there for a few seconds so you can accommodate his size. and then, he pushes fully into you. he throws his head back with a submissive sound.

he twitches inside of you when he feels his orgasm coming, even though he hasn’t even done anything yet. chris feels embarrassed, seeming like a teenage boy who’s having sex for the first time.

he tries to imagine the grossest things to distract him. it works, thank god.

“so tight,” he says, jutting his hips forward in slow thrusts. you whimper and grip the sheets below you because of the pain, but it soon goes away the more he stimulates you.

when chris plans to go faster, your phone vibrates with an incoming phone call. “answer it.”

“w-what?” you stammer, trying to look back at him from over your shoulder.

he leans to your nightstand and grabs your phone, forcing it in front of your face. “i said; answer. it.”

your shaky hand takes the phone and you swipe answer without looking at the name. “h-hello?”

“are you almost ready? we have to leave soon.” nate’s voice says on the other line. your eyes widen with fear, but chris finds this amusing and chuckles instead.

“n-not yet.” you bite down on your lip trying to suppress the sounds you want to let out. chris is still thrusting slowly, but he’s so big that the tip is already starting to brush against your cervix.

“and do you know where chris is? we haven’t seen him in a while.”

“i-i don’t know, nate. he’s probably in the bathroom or something,” you say in one breath. you remove the phone from your ear and plop your face down into the pillow to muffle your moan as chris hits that spot again.

you bring the phone back to your ear and exhale. “i-i’ll be done soon, nate.”

he’s silent for a beat before speaking. “okay. see ya down here when you’re ready.”

you quickly hang up the phone and throw it somewhere on the floor. chris starts to go faster, moans shooting out of you in pieces. “in the bathroom, huh?” he mocks.

“shut u—” you’re cut off by a harsh slap on your right thigh, followed by rubbing that soothes the pain.

“i don’t want to hear any other words come out of your mouth except those pretty sounds you make. the only thing you’ll be able to think about is my dick buried inside of you.”

“but—”

another slap and rub. his pace turns animalistic, causing you to bury your face into the pillows again. you moan an apology into the pillow, but it was pretty much incoherent.

your white knuckles on the sheets make chris smirk. you clench around his dick and he groans. “so perfect. such a perfect pussy.”

“chris—” you pant. “chris—”

“what? do you need to cum again already? you want to cum all over my cock?”

he grips your hair and lifts your head slightly. you want to answer, but pathetic moans are the only thing you’re capable of letting out.

thank god for the music playing, or the claps of your guys’ skin and the squeaking of the bed can give you away in an instant. “ple-ease. let me c-cum.” you struggle.

“hold it.” chris says through gritted teeth.

he rails into you harder than before, his hand that was gripping your hair now holding your head down on its side into the mattress. you yelp like a dog beneath him, drool falling down your chin creating a mess below you.

your arousal starts leaking from you and chris moans. “take it… just like that. good girl.”

you buck your hips more into him, and he grips your waist tighter, which will leave marks for a few days. “yeah? you like that?”

eyes becoming filled with tears, you nod your head and moan into the pillows as a yes.

“your brother would hate me if he knew what i’m doing to you.” chris starts. “who knew his little sister was such a slut?”

your grip starts to loosen on the sheets since the pleasure is getting too much. you start to see specks of white every time you blink. you’re a brain-dead mess underneath your brother’s best friend.

but my god can he fuck. and he fucks good.

he speaks lowly into your ear. “too bad you’re my best friend’s sister, or i’d fuck a baby into you right now.”

you try to look at his face with teary eyes, but his grip stays on your head.

“we’d make cute ones, no?”

you blab a response. he leans so his face is right in front of your tongue sticking out, drooling mess. the lean also causes him to go deeper and hit spots you didn’t even know existed. “you want my cum you filthy fucking whore? you’re squeezing my cock like you do.”

you scream, sobs of pleasure leaving your lips. you’re on the pill, but feeling him let go inside of you will send you over the edge.

you’ve been holding it in for too long, and you need to let go now.

“please.” you whimper. “cum in me.”

you repeat that same sentence over and over again like a prayer, and you can tell he’s close based off of his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“you’re being so good for me.” he grunts. “such a good girl.”

chris looks at where you’re connected, his jaw slacks as he watches himself pound the shit out of you. the way your ass bounces with each thrust has his dick twitching. your second orgasm approaches, streaking your cream down his cock.

“fuck.” chris mumbles, jolting into you one last time before spilling inside of you. he watched as his dick repeatedly disappears into your folds to make sure you took his seed before pulling out.

he admires the mess you both made, taking his fingers and shoving your/his release back inside you. you hiss at the sensitivity.

some of it still oozes out because of the way he just fucked you full.

he rolls you onto your back and cups your face, wiping the tears streaming down your face with his thumbs. “you okay?”

you lazily smile and nod. you’re still fuzzy with post-sex haze. he looks in a few of the bedside drawers before finding a towel and carefully cleaning you up with it.

he throws on his clothes, finishing the remaining buttons on his pants before looking down at you.

“by the way.” he starts, kneeling to grab your panties from the floor and putting them in his pocket.

“hm?” you hum, waiting for an answer.

“you’re going to have to find a different dress. the zipper broke on that one.” he comes over and kisses you on the temple. “you better get ready before it’s too late.”

with that, he walks out of your room. you stay there, all naked and still trying to catch your breath.

however, you’re not worried about finding another dress. you’re worried about how you have to hide the fact that chris’ cum is going to drip down your legs the entire night.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

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sturniolosstar · 16 days

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older┆m.sturniolo

summary - what it’s like to have an older boyfriend <3

ᯓ★ pairing - dilf!matthew sturniolo x female reader

ᯓ★ cw - legal age gap, suggestive themes, kissing, mentions of sex, mentions of threesome, fingering, eating out, lowercase intended

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

always protective and looking out for you.

at parties, you’re by his side with his arm around your waist. while shopping, his hand is always resting on your lower back as you walk from store to store. whenever he takes you out, his fingers are intertwined with yours so you don’t go wondering off.

kisses anywhere and everywhere.

forehead kisses while you fall asleep in his arms after a long day, pecks on your cheeks from time to time as you clean up the house, long and passionate kisses on the lips as he slips his tongue into your mo-

“wear what you want, i can fight.”

you can bet your ass you can wear whatever you want. after all, who is he to complain when he’s the one taking it off at the end of the day? he also loves the way you’re always so put together and cleanly dressed, no matter the occasion.

always has time for you.

on the days he’s busy, he makes time. youtube isn’t forever, him and his brothers are aware of that. so when it came to working, he doesn’t hesitate to call in sick or get someone to fill in for him just so he can spend an extra day with his girl.

causal acts of dominance.

he’s the older one in the relationship, why wouldn’t he make sure the little things are taken care of so you won’t have to worry about them? doors are always held open for you, he’s on his knees when your shoelaces become undone, his hand covers the sharp corners of tables and counters whenever you bend down near them.

your priorities over his.

of course he takes care of himself, but when it comes to you? he’ll drop everything. when on your period, he calls off work to spend the day in bed with you. when you feel sick, he already has soup made and your heating pad is all warm. whenever you run out of a product, a new one is on your vanity within an hour. whenever you complain about not having anything to wear, you’re driven to the shopping centre as you try on anything your heart desires. and he of course buys them all.

spending all his money on you.

there’s no doubt about the fortune made from his previous youtube career, but with a good paying job ten years later? it doesn’t take a genius to know that every dollar and penny he earns is spent on you. he never listens to your mewls of complains, he simply shuts you up with a kiss to your pouted lips. “c’mon, honey. why’re you fighting me on this?” “who else would i spend all of this on?

your pleasure is his number one consideration.

the fact that he’s older and the amount of experience he has? whew. there is no question about how he makes you sees stars every night. when in between your legs, his hands are groping the soft flesh of your thighs as his tongue flicks on your clit. when fingering you, he presses your hips down on the mattress to keep you still due to all your squirming. when stuffing your cunt full of his cock, he never fails to finish inside of you at the feeling of your nails scratching down his back and the sight of your eyes rolled back to your head as drool dribbles down the corners of your mouth.

getting over his protective persona and deciding to share you.

he’s no idiot, he sees the way you look at chris whenever he takes you to visit his family and who is he to not fulfil his girl’s desires? it started off with letting chris become touchy with you; brushing your hair out of your face while he’s standing before you, subtle touches while walking past you, hand resting on your hip while he’s beside you. it ended with you writhing in his silk sheets beneath him and his brother as they completely ruin you; from prepping you with their fingers and tongue to filling you from both ends with their cocks.

in the end, you have no regrets about choosing someone older.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

author’s note - this was written, proofread and edited all on the same day. r u guys proud of me 😕😕

taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07 @stonermattsgf @55sturn @lookingformyromeo @nicksbestie @strombolilovr @imsosillygoofylol @riasturns @sturncakez

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

#sturniolosstar #dilf!matt ༉‧₊˚.#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut

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cynoswifey · 11 months

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Cockwarming Genshin men

Characters: Althaitham, Kaveh,Cyno,Tighnari, Scaramouche and Kaeya

Warnings: NSFW topics involved

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•

Althaitham-

Althaitham is very busy as the acting grand sage most of the time leaving you to your own devices. But here he is looking real pretty reading a book on the couch . So what else can you do but palm him through his pants earning a glance from then finally unbuckle his pants and sit comfortably on his dick. Moments like these are Alhaithams favorite he gets to read a book while being in your gummy walls that provide him with such warmth that he doesn't want you to move. Oh but after hes done with his book you better believe hes giving you the fucking of a life time

Kaveh-

Kaveh has had his mind so occupied with designing something that's he has worried his pretty wife. There he is drawing up ideas while looking stressed. Why not be a good wife and give him a blowjob hm? He try's to focus on the drawing but the way his dick is hitting the back if your mouth is driving him crazy earning yourself a mouth full of cum and a fully erect dick. Go ahead and sit yourself on him. He won't last long like this soon his focus is completely on you.

Cyno-

During a late TCG game with Althaitham, Kaveh, and Tighnari at the usual bar. Cyno uses the excuse that there is no chairs to have you sit on his lap to which he moves your panties to the side and slips his dick into you. He claims it helps him focus on the game your glad the skirt your wearing is covering where you both are connected. Then Tighnari points out how your cheeks are red and ask if your okay while putting a hand on your forehead which like all your body jd warm. He assumes you have a fever and suddenly the night of TCG is finished... thank goodness right?? Nah Cyno is going to have is way with you when you both get home

Tighnari-

Tighnari had just shot his load into you it still wasnt enought though. Even if his mind is hazed with lust from his heat he knew you were tired. So he gave you the option to take a nap on his shoulder. And so you did with his pretty dick still inside you. It takes every fiber in his being to not thrust up into you. He is able to only last an hour before he grips your hips and begins to thrust into you. Waking you up from your nap.

Scaramouche-

You sat on Scara's lap. Actually he was the one who sat you there. He dragged you early to a harbinger meeting sat down unzipped his zipper, moved your panties to the side and sat you on his dick. The meeting started soon towards the end Pierro asked you a question. Mid way through your answer scaramouche thrust into you causing your voice to raise a pitch. No one asked questions about it. But Scara teased you about it while he stuffed you full of him after the meeting

Kaeya-

Kaeya had you bended over his desk while he took you from behind. You had a hand placed in your mouth to control you moans. You felt the familiar feeling of your oragasm approaching and so did Kaeya. But then there's a knock at the door. Keaya smirks sits down his chair and seats you on top of him slipping himself into you again. He tells the person to come in. The person is Jean and came to tell Kaeya something you could care less and had your focus on Kaeyas dick inside you. Kaeya answers Jean so smoothly your honestly surprised at how well he is. Eventually there conversation comes to an end and then Jean acknowledges how red your cheeks are and ask if your feeling sick. Kaeya does not you hear the end of it after that

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•

Reblogs likes, and ask are appreciated!

Thank you!!!

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brainrotfm · 1 month

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draft title: fat cock slow sex, sukuna x f!reader

divider credits to @cafekitsune

sukuna liked you best when you were thrashing.

he had no interest in restraints, binding your hands or feet in silly straps or cuffs to keep you still, having had several lifetimes worth of entrapment and no reason to ensnare you the same, not when he was twice your size and exponentially stronger than you could ever perceive.

no, he wanted you like this, at all times - splayed out unashamedly, blubbering nonsensically, hips wriggling for friction, small fists beating at his chest, trying to spurn a moment of reprieve or relief, whatever came quicker for the little darling trapped beneath your chosen predator.

why were you in such distress?

well, because sukuna loved taking your sopping, plushy little cunt and splitting her in half, bullying the fat girth of his cock as deep as possible before… just... stopping.

every. fucking. time. you should know better by now, always getting yourself into this mess, your fault for loving the most sadistic creature known to history —

a creature indeed, as sukuna rumbles above you, able to feel the timbre against the backs of your legs where they sat flush against his broad chest. his growling earned him a pitiful whimper in return, body twitching back and forth beneath his sheer mass, as if there was any hope for escape.

“so fucking wet for me, woman.”

“love sinking my cock into you and feeling this sweet pussy spasm around me.”

“should i sit here forever, just feeling your little cunt flex for me?”

of course, he won't move unless you beg for it. why should he? this is his favorite way to take you, after all - cunt clenching endlessly, clinging to his cock, weeping to be stuffed full of his cum whenever he pleased. he has no reason to indulge you unless you really put up a fight, and even then, he'll taunt you all the same. but beg you do, as you always do, happily the loser of this battle when this was a neverending game of his maintaining his attention.

“you sure, brat? i can always get you off just like this,” and he punctuated his point with a rough slide of his thumb over your slit, catching at your clit and pressing, “let you cum all over my cock without even moving, be my selfish little whore tonight. yeah?”

it's not enough though, never truly satisfying to finish like that, your hips twitching toward the sensation of being filled completely, satiated fully, the way that only sukuna could. only he knew how to cure the ache throbbing in your naval.

“okay little one, but you asked for it. we don’t stop til I say we stop.”

finally, finally he sat back on his heels, but there would be no mercy for you.

sukuna picked up your hips from where they rested against his impossibly large thighs, his eyes losing their focus on you. now, his gaze was trained on that delicious, glimmering cunt of yours, still pulsating around his cock, your anticipation drooling out of you. slowly, so slowly it would drive you insane, sukuna began to drag his cock back out of your perfect little heat, spit pooling in his mouth as he salivated at the sight. no point in wasting it - he spits down at the place your bodies connect, easing the pull, eliciting a twin shudder from both of you at the noise.

the problem with his misdirected focus was that it took forever for either of you to cum like this, which was the point, but you detested him sometimes for it, you really did. even if he let out the breathiest sighs of enjoyment, having you like this, that made your spine curl inside you.

when he has you right where he wants you, whimpering like a little bitch in heat, wide eyed simmering with want and unshed tears as he simply enjoys himself. inching himself out, and there's so much of him, dragging through you until the fat mushroom tip of his cock bulged the sensitive ring of your entrance - before plunging his hips forward, fucking you full in an instant, kicking the breath right out of your lungs.

your impatience was beginning to show as your hips wriggled, your breaths slipping an octave higher as a whine passed your lips right as sukuna began the slow drag out of you once again. he sighed dreamily above you, practically purring as he grinned at the trails of tears actively staining your cheeks,

“that's it, little one, cry for me. make me cum with those pretty tears."

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #jjk smut #writesfm

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yeetus-feetus · 5 months

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one day Tim gets shot in the shoulder. The bullet goes straight through so he doesn't bother anyone about it. He hates bothering people with his injuries when there's people more in need than him. He goes home and collapses in bed, he'll deal with it tomorrow.

When he wakes up though, he finds that someone has already come and fixed him up while he was asleep. The area surrounding the bullet wound has been completely numbed too. What the fuck?

There's a flattened bullet hanging from his neck, and Tim wonders if it's the same bullet that went through him. It must be right? Why else would whoever fixed him up give it to him?

The bullet hangs on a shiny gold chain, and Tim stares at it in the mirror. Rubbing his fingers over it and coming to the conclusion it must be real gold. He'll check, just to make sure.

He also needs to investigate who the fuck has gold and expensive pain relief to waste on him. Why they did it. And how the hell they knew Tim was not only injured, when he told absolutely no one, but also found the bullet used on him.

What the fuck.

But this keeps happening, and Tim continues to be confused. He gets injured badly and tells no one, and the next day he's patched up and gifted gold.

Thing is, he can't really tell anyone without admitting he's been hiding his injuries. He can't stand to see Dick's worried expression, or listen to Bruce's disappointed lecture. There's more important things to worry about in Gotham.

He breaks his hand on patrol and when he wakes up the next morning it's been bandaged and put in a splint. Fuck. That was his dominant hand too!

His other hand feels heavy and when he brings it up to examine it as well, his fingers are adorned in various rings of gold.

A deep cut into his flesh and he passes out on his own floor, only to wake up in bed with perfect stitches and a burning sensation coming from his ears. He looks in the mirror groggily too see he's been completely wiped down off the coagulated blood that was surely clinging to his skin before his mystery nurse came to visit.

Not only is he clean and completely patched up, but there's gold hanging from his ears. Both ears are double pierced with perfect hoops of gold threaded through all four new punctures, well- 2 new punctures and 2 re-punctured.

His ears burn. It stings. But the earnings look so pretty, he looks really nice with them.

He smiles.

Then, his mug breaks. His favorite mug. And it's the cherry on top of a horrible, exhausting week. He'd been so stressed and overwhelmed and all he wanted was something to drink! Why did everything have to go wrong? Why did Bruce have to yell at him for doing what he knew he needed to do!? It wasn't fair... and everything just came crashing down all at once.

Tim crumples to the floor and begins to sob uncontrollably, cradling the broken pieces of his mug in shaking hands.

He wakes up in his bed.

It's odd, because he doesn't remember taking himself to bed last night. He's pretty sure he cried himself to sleep on his less-than-clean kitchen floor.

But he's used to this by now. Passing out somewhere and ending up tucked into bed by some mysterious being that Tim still hasn't managed to figure out.

It's nice.

It's really nice actually. It's comforting to know something is caring for him and keeping him safe and he doesn't have to embarrass himself by asking for it.

Except... the space in the bed next to him is warm. That's-

That hasn't happened before....

When he pads into the kitchen it's been cleaned, top to bottom. And his mug is waiting for him on the counter.

Except it's not broken anymore.

There is his favorite mug, whole again and full of steaming tea. Tim scrunches his nose at that, he'd much prefer coffee. But the aroma is nice, soothing, and he carefully picks it up to run his fingers over the lines of gold that glue the shattered pieces together.

Kintsugi.

And then it hits him.

The hair on his neck stands up, a small shiver running through him.

Someone's been treating Tim as their personal art project. Someone's trying to mend him with gold, trying to piece all that's left of him back together like he's fractured pottery.

He doesn't know how he feels about that...

A conflicting mix of dread and warmth settling heavy in his gut, bordering on the edge of uncomfortable and pleasant fullness.

But it's not like he has the words to describe the odd sensation. ..But he likes it.

#tim drake #tim drake robin #tim drake wayne #timothy drake #fic ideas #Is this for a ship?#That's up to you and your interpretation #story ideas #kintsugi

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lyneira · 1 year

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♡ 1 sit-up = 1 kiss ♡

-> you challenge the genshin men to do sit-ups, but with each rep, they also get a kiss from you (just like in the gif above!) How would they react?

suggestive in some parts!

"I'm getting ripped tonight~" rip that [redacted]"

Itto, Childe,

They'll immediately be on the floor and all ready to go when you propose this challenge because he would be ABSOLUTELY pumped up. Like, c'mon. He gets to show off his physical prowess and get a little love from you at the same time? HECK YEAH 💪 by the time he's finished, his abs are going to be rock harder than ever and your lips are going to feel numb after kissing him hundreds of times (and let's be honest, that number probably wouldn't be an exaggeration)

Even with both of your lips being numb, he'll still expect more than just a "couple" of pecks on the lips to satiate him after you've tired him out. You've made him sweat, so it's only fair that he gets to make you sweat too. And y'all will get physical, alright ;)

"Lemme just kiss you!"

Venti, Kaveh, Scaramouche, Xiao, Diluc

He'd scoff at the idea and would roll over, whining, "Why should I do that when I can just kiss you without doing any work?" He'll go in for a kiss, but you'll instantly block it with your hand, clicking your tongue and teasingly telling him that he'll have to earn your kisses today.

I think he'll be stubborn and would still refuse to commit to your challenge for a little while before finally giving in. He'd miss your lips too much and can't go a day without your kiss, after all. He'll go down to the floor with furrowed brows and a big pout on his face, ready for the "strenuous" exercise Yet, soon, that frown would gradually turn upside down with each sit-up and kiss you'd give him.

Okay, tbh, it won't be a full, big smile because he'd slowly be dying both inside and out after each rep LOL. He's doing his best! Needless to say, he probably wouldn't get through a whole lot of reps and would be laying there, panting heavily, all sweaty and tired out by the end of that little workout session (-> mainly applied to Venti, Kaveh, and maybe Scaramouche? Xiao and Diluc would probably get through it easily, the whole thing would just be a bit annoying to them)

"The things you make me do for you, y/n...", he'd huff.

You'd giggle and lean down towards his face, "you did a good job, sweetheart~", and would then pepper his face with a multitude of kisses. "Here's your reward", you'd continue, planting a loving kiss onto his lips. And with the way he'd melt into your lips and softly moan, you would have guessed that he finally thought it was worth it after all.

Makes it interesting

Heizou, Kaeya, Ayato, Alhaitham, Baizhu

He'd agree to your challenge, but not without making it interesting in his own way. If you were going to challenge him, then he'd give you a challenge too: Could you resist him as he was doing what you had asked of him? Let's see.

Before he begins your challenge, he'd pull off his top, exposing his toned upper body, and he'd smirk to himself as he watched how you were already distracted and were practically drooling at his display. This would make the next part all the more enjoyable for him.

So the challenge would start off fine with you two giving each other a simple, quick peck after each rep. Yet, soon enough, he'd bring in more passion into his kisses, taking a bit more time on your lips after each one. His kisses would leave you wanting more, would make you forget about the exercising part and he knew this, so he'd continue with his reps, despite you attempting to hold him still.

To make matters worse, he'd also begin teasing you with his tongue, licking your bottom lip quickly, pulling back to complete his rep, and sitting back up to eventually go deeper with it, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. Even when you thought that he finally quit with the sit-ups, he again pulled back to complete another rep.

At some point, you'd have enough of his teasing and would pin him down and devour his lips, fueled by the hunger he had instilled in you. You two would eventually forget about your challenge and would have a heated makeout session instead. Seems like his plan worked, hehe

Indulges you

Zhongli, Cyno, Tighnari, Kazuha, Albedo, Dainsleif

He initially raises an eyebrow, wondering what spurred the sudden challenge on, but he won't back down from it, even if it does seem a bit trivial. Anyway, he'd be able to do it with ease, barely even breaking a sweat during the exercise.

And while he does enjoy this "fun" way of kissing you, he knows that this would simply go on for forever if he doesn't do anything. So after a certain rep, he would take the opportunity to surprise you with a long and deep kiss, holding your face firmly. When he breaks away, he'd look at your flushed face with a smile.

"Must I do more sit-ups to kiss you?"

You'd answer him by pouncing on him and kissing him.

>///<

Gorou, Thoma

They'd have a difficult time getting through the exercise, not because of the physical workout itself, but because they'd be flustered the whole time. You'd be giving him more kisses than usual and would be encouraging him so much all while having that beloved bright expression on your face as he does your challenge. This would simply be too much for his heart to handle that he'd end up collapsing mid-sit-up, and covering his face with his hands. You'd lean over and ask,

"Too tired?"

"No....you're just too cute"

If you wanna get him even more shy, gently pull off his hands from his face, give him a big ol' kiss on his lips, then say, "Well, I think you're cute too 😘" and watch him combust lol

a/n: I was just looking for cute gifs when I came across this one and was immediately inspired to write this, haha. l also kinda gave up heading towards the end ngl, the writer's block is too real for me rn :'D

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restlesswritingss · 4 months

Text

In which Astarion is jealous

Astarion knew he had no right to be jealous. You two were not exclusive. He was the one who had said you would belong to each other for the night during your little forest rendezvous. During the day you two had no claims to one another. That had suited him perfectly as he flirted with your other companions in an effort to earn their loyalty the only way he knew how. He hadn't gotten as far with any of them as he had with you, but it never hurt to try.

But now his non-committal words were being thrown back in his face as he watched you flirt your way through both your companions and the people you encountered on your journey. You weren't as shameless as he was, but still there was the twirl of your hair, the leaning in closer than necessary, and the god awful way you indulged Gale's 'jokes' gracing his undeserving ass with your flitty laugh. Astarion felt secure in his position as your favorite bedroll companion so there was no logical reason he seethed at the idea that he wasn't the only one.

Take now for example, he should have been continuing his efforts to wrap Shadowheart around his finger. She was the one he was closest to getting in his bed and on his side, besides you of course. But as she spoke to him in attempt to banter, his focus was solely on you and Wyll walking in front of him.

You were laughing, surely at something besides Wyll's dumb jokes, shoving him playfully. The warlock then grabbed your hand to pull you with him as you both slightly stumbled off the path.

Astarion wasn't the only one not enjoying this display of comradery between you and tHe BlaDE of FRontIErs. Gale had come up to you in his normally 'jolly' manner offering his hand to help you back onto the road. You'd blushed and taken it gratefully, Wyll rolling his eyes behind you.

Gods this was annoying. Even the girls had been vying for your affections. Astarion was just lucky most of the group went both ways so his own flirtations weren't thrown to the side. Shadowheart, who had previously been leaning into Astarion's side in a not at all subtle way to press her chest to his arm, was now eyeing you as you bent over to dust yourself off.

Laezel and Karlach's conversation even halted at the sight of your bent over posterior. That sent Astarion over the edge. He was the one who'd made you scream his name just last night. Regretfully it had once again been in a clearing away from camp and prying ears. That would have to be rectified tonight in your tent.

You stood up finally and realized everyone's attention was on you.

You blushed sweetly, embarrassed, and said, "Sorry."

Your nervous giggle hit a pang in Astarion's hollow chest. His affections for you were rising by the moment, but he pushed that down. In the back of his mind, a part of him knew this jealousy was about more than just securing his protection from you, but he pushed that down as well. He'd always been good at ignoring his feelings.

Astarion pulled away from Shadowheart to approach you. He saw you perk up a bit at his obvious preference to you, a nugget of joy he pocketed greedily.

He stroked your cheek lightly with the back of his hand as his gaze bore into yours. You were looking up at him in a way that was so sweet, it took all his strength to not whisk you off the path and have you right then and there.

"Are you alright love?" He asked in a tone that he found himself not forcing out.

You nodded while leaning into his touch ever so slightly.

Gale cleared his throat and it brought Astarion back. He'd gotten lost in your big round eyes and had almost completely forgotten the rest of your companions. His jealousy came rearing back in full force as Gale's disgusting hand squeezed your upper arm and Wyll put a hand at the small of your back. You tensing up at all the attention and touching quenched it however. He immediately stepped back to give you space whilst glaring at the other two to do the same.

Of course they didn't and he again fought against his instincts to not bite their heads off. You shrugged off their hands and worry and stepped to the side to continue on the path. This time however, you stuck to Astarion's side, exactly where you belonged.

That night at camp, Astarion's gaze never left you. He told himself he was analyzing a target but really he was just watching how your interactions with everyone had shifted slightly. You were holding yourself back. There was no innuendos, no giggling, no batting of your long pretty eyelashes. Just genuine friendship and platonic care for your companions.

This warmed Astarion more than the fire. Were you finally seeing that he was the only one you needed warming your bed at night? Your late night trysts had gotten more and more frequent as Astarion found himself actually enjoying sex for the first time since gods knows when. Also the more time he spent in your bed meant the less time the others had. Unless you were a sex fiend who could go all night and had a rotation after he left. That was always a possibility. A possibility that ate away at him.

Astarion's internal worries were soothed once again by your presence. You brought your food bowl over as you sat directly next to him by the fire. He pretended to be actually reading the book in his lap, not wanting to give away how distracting just you being near him was. The rest of your group stared as you picked sitting with him over them and Astarion wanted to give them all a smirk but again he refrained from showing how much this all meant to him.

You ate in silence, staring at the fire with the occasional glance in his direction. Eventually, he bumped his knee against yours. You smiled sweetly and scooted closer so your thighs were flushed against each other.

"How is our darling leader doing?" He asked, surprising himself with his genuine curiosity on your wellbeing.

You then leaned your head on his shoulder, he shifted so it would be more comfortable for you setting off alarm bells in his own head. He wasn't supposed to care about your comfort, just your loyalty.

You sighed contently, "Better now that they are with their favorite group member."

He was thankful for the first time ever that his heart didn't beat because if it did, it would surely have been audibly racing at your words.

You chuckled at his stunned silence, "I'm sure that is a surprise to no one, but please don't rub it in to the others too much."

He scoffed at that, "Well I'm not about to give them another reason to want to shove a stake through my chest."

You laughed, a true squawk that he just adored.

Shaking your head and sitting up, depriving Astarion of your warmth, you bumped your shoulder against his lightly.

"I would never let them."

This was what the whole plan had been for. Your protection was secured, he should have felt triumphant at his success. All he felt though was guilt. You were so genuine with your affections. He knew this was hard for you. You had been slowly opening up to him, a fact that at the beginning of your 'relationship' made him feel successful in his plan but now just made him feel . . . good.

He once again stroked your cheek with the back of his hand and you leaned into his touch overtly, kissing the back of knuckles.

Your eyes widened at the realization of what you just did set it. As you went to pull away, he turned his hand to cup the back of your neck and keep you in place. You met his eyes and relaxed at the soft smile on his face.

"I know, I revel in your blatant favoritism," he began meaning to keep things light and teasing but couldn't help adding, "I try very hard to give you better orgasms than the rest of our group of horny weirdos."

He was fishing for confirmation of his fears. You frowned and pulled away from him.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with other people?" There was hurt in your voice and he couldn't place why.

He sputtered, thrown by your reaction, "We haven't made any promises, I don't expect you to tame your desires for me."

"Are you sleeping with other people?" You attempted to steel your voice, but he saw through the flimsy mask to the hurt in your voice.

Astarion found himself torn between his feelings and his instincts. His feelings told him to assure you you were the only one for him, but his instincts forced him to leave it out in the open. You didn't need to know that he only really wanted to sleep with you, and hadn't been able to get in anyone else's pants not for lack of trying. In the end, he decided to play coy.

He twirled your hair and shrugged, "Well our companions don't seem to have a thing for vampires, so I hadn't really been successful in my quest to find someone to fulfill my more sinful desires with until you. But don't let my lack of success stop you from indulging in their embraces, I will find ways to fill my nights without you. Our dear Shadowheart seems to be warming up to me. I'm sure she'll indulge me soon enough."

Oh gods he'd rambled too much. You frowned and looked down with tears pricking your eyes.

"I see, I haven't found interest in any of our other members but I understand if you have. I know we made no promises to each other," You took a deep shaky breath and looked as if you were going to continue but thought better of it.

Astarion wanted you to continue.

Astarion found himself slipping the mask fully back on, realizing for the first time that it had been off, and smirking, "Well I'm sure you'll have much better success than I. It seems to have escaped no one here how delicious you are so I have no doubt you can have your pick of the lot. Do tell me all the salacious details though, it's only fair."

You pushed further away from him and his hand that was still playing with the ends of your hair hung in the air. He found the comfort it was bringing him yanked away.

You frown at him, but then your own masks slips on. Astarion hates your mask, it hid his favorite parts about you.

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes, "I promise to come to you the moment I have anything to share, I hope you indulge me the same as well."

With that you stand and retire to your tent, which bothers Astarion more than it should. He waits in the same spot hoping for your reemergence for a pathetic amount of time.

Finally, once everyone has gone to bed besides Karlach who has been assigned first watch, Astarion allows his feet to carry him to the one place he truly wants to be - with you.

He knows he should knock, but he is still learning to respect boundaries and he wants to see what you are doing. He'd kept watchful eyes on your tent and knows you are alone thank the gods. His glaring may have been the main deterrent of any potential suitors, but he wouldn't think about that.

You were sitting on your bedroll reading, something you normally did next to him by the firelight. When you looked up at him, your face was red and puffy from crying. His heart sank at that, it couldn't have been because of your conversation could it? He hadn't said everything the exact way he wanted to, but you'd both walked away with your freedom in tact.

"What's wrong little love?" His voice was softer than he wanted, he was always softer than he wanted to be with you. But he never beat himself up for it too much because you deserved softness.

There was turmoil in your eyes, an obvious debate on how honest to be with him going on in your mind.

"Please tell me," He begged, forgoing his mask altogether in the hope it would make you drop yours.

It worked just as intended.

"I didn't realize we weren't exclusive, or that I was your last choice for a nighttime companion," your voice was hoarse and small.

He hated that your voice was hoarse and small.

He knelt in front of you and you tucked your knees to your chest. His hands reached out to rub what he could reach of your calves as he pressed close to you.

Astarion tried to think carefully how to put what he wanted to say but you spoke first.

"I knew you were flirting with the others, but I guess I thought I was special to you-"

"You are," He surprised both of you with how assuredly he spoke the omission.

That thoroughly shut you up, an adorable blush dusting across you cheeks. Astarion meant to smirk but it again was too soft.

But then indignation filled him, "You were flirting with them as well! I saw the way you cozied up to Wyll and Gale, neither of which are funny and I would appreciate you not leading them to believe they are."

You huffed now and pouted, something he again found just adorable. His annoyance at your hypocrisy dissolved at the knowledge that you said you only wanted him.

"I only flirted with them because you couldn't keep your hands off Shadowheart," You mumbled.

Astarion laughed at that, at the idea that he would prefer any of your companions to you and that the idea had made you jealous. You just huffed again at his laughter.

"Well, well, well, sounds like someone was jealous, want me all to yourself then?" He teased but panic set in as he realized the implications of his questions. He wanted you all to himself desperately but that was impossible. He could never deserve someone just for himself, let alone someone as wonderful and desired as you.

"Yes," the word was disgustingly earnest.

Your gaze went to the floor, unable to look at his reaction. Of course Astarion wouldn't want that.

But Astarion gently gripped your chin and tilted your head to look at him. Instead of the expected suave arrogance, you found only disbelief.

"Really?" He asked, desperate for the answer to be yes again.

Your answer was in your eyes and it terrified him. What about when you tired of him? Realized the useless thing that he was and tossed him aside? But didn't he deserve something good after all the hell he had endured?

And you were good.

He kissed you and felt your answer on his lips, in the way you gripped his collar desperately, in your legs wrapping around his waist in an iron grip to keep him as if he'd ever want to leave.

Astarion made love for first the time in his undead life with you that night. It was. . . spectacular. He'd slept in your arms, exhausted from the activities in the best way possible. Awaking with you in his arms like he was a regular person who deserved this kind of thing, was a treat he never thought he would experience.

You were endearingly grouchy in the morning, snuggling further into his embrace to avoid the invading ruckus of your group in the morning.

The blanket had been kicked off by you in the night, Astarion not really needing it and you being a restless sleeper. But at least in left every inch of your bare body exposed to him. He watched the rise and fall of your breath and felt the beat of your heart against his own chest.

Astarion felt the weight of his guilt pierce the peaceful morning. He'd just been tricking you, but now things felt real. The affection he felt for you was real, however marred it was by his past. The familiar feelings of disgust for how his body had been used crept in and it felt wrong to associate that with you and the sweetness of last night. What had happened was different, you were different. But his feelings were the same.

Astarion's internal torture was interrupted by Gale opening the flap to your tent. Thank the gods for Astarion's quick reflexes because he was able to snatch the blanket and cover your body from wandering eyes. Gale did get a full view of Astarion's naked form, but the wizard didn't look appreciative of the view he got.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" Astarion yelled, regretting it the moment you whimpered from underneath him.

You were sitting up clutching the blanket to your chest as you realized someone unwanted was staring at you.

Gods you were slow waking up, Astarion realized he would always have to be the one to ward off any late night dangers because you were useless when you first woke up. The idea of sleeping next to you for the rest of your nights felt like a given.

"Gale!" You shrieked realizing it was the wizard staring at you dumbfounded to see you in such a compromising position. You attempted to cover Astarion with the blanket as well but it wasn't very big. He appreciated the effort.

"My - my apologies I was just coming to wake you for breakfast. I had no idea you had a. . . companion," his tone went bitter at the end as he glared at Astarion.

You ducked to hide further behind Astarion's shoulder, his chest in front of you again to block you from fucking Gale.

"Get out!" Astarion yelled, his patience running out at your obvious discomfort.

Gale was quick to obey and scrambled out, hastily closing the tent behind him.

You wrapped an arm around Astarion's chest and snuggled your face into his back. Astarion stiffened as he realized you were snuggling into his scarred back but it wasn't something you hadn't already seen. You'd seen so many parts of him and yet you still wanted him to yourself. He'd never understand it. Kisses peppered his back and everything in his mind dulled as he focused on the feeling of your lips trailing up to the nape of his neck. It wasn't enticing, no insinuation of a morning round two to be found, just affectionate.

"Do we have to get up and see them?" you mumbled into his back.

He laughed, genuinely, "Well at least now they all know that you are well and truly taken."

You giggled, "As if it wasn't obvious I was yours already."

He sighed, happy for a moment. Your hand began rubbing his chest gently. There was still the looming issue of his manipulation and his newfound feelings for you, as well as his issues with intimacy, but for the moment you were holding him and it all felt ok. And you were his.

#Astarion x tav #astarion x reader #idk what other tags to do for baldur's gate oh whale #pls comment it keeps me alive

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visionsofmagic · 5 months

Text

◜ mk1 men when you meet with their evil versions [+bonus]◞

▸ characters: raiden, johnny cage, kuai liang, tomas & [+bonus} bi han: meeting with his good version ◂ ▸wc: 2.7k

▸ tags&notes: drabble, fluff, hurt/comfort, spicy, flirting, touching, gentle, rough, lots of usage of version & timeline words (like in the game, lol), dilemma, betrayal, angst (a little bit), humor, use of y/n, pet names, no specification of gender (as I remember), well, ‘s all I guess? (lol, this is the mixed tags I have ever wrote, but, it’s a drabble, so… enjoy!◂ ▸ m.

RAIDEN can be one of the most precious men you have met, and falling for him is the rightest thing that has happened to you – however, contrary to how a loving boyfriend he is in your timeline, he’s the opposite one when it comes to his another version you have come across.

everything about his evil, the version seems all the same and different at the same time as he makes his way towards you, having the red color on unlike what your raiden wear normally. the only thing that reminds of him is the hat that covers his face from you until he slowly raises his head, eyes glowing red while looking at you from above. the danger is radiating from his presence, giving you a cold chill down your spine, making you crawl back step by step because of being on your ass, sitting on the ground after the fight has begun between you and the other timeline.

“oh,” he says, a smirk appears on his pretty face – not the one your raiden has, the one that is the representation of the most beautiful flower in the entire world, no, this one gives the feeling of an ivy full of poison. “y/n?” gulping, you remember the words that left liu kang’s mouth about how raiden once lost himself and sought the power to protect the earthrealm at any cost.

you stop when your back touches a wall, leaving no place to run either when raiden kneels before you, red lightning traveling on his body that looks so powerful that you find yourself getting weak – not only because of the aura he has unlike the one the raiden you know has, but also because how it seems that he pulls you closer to him. somehow, he makes you lose all logical sides of your brain with the way he looks down at you; prevailing.

“raiden?” you ask, sounding soft which earns a smirk from him as he holds you by the chin.

“oh my love, you’re so soft – so fragile. it seems your raiden doesn’t give you enough – he is still weak. with that power, he can’t protect you, but I can,” his fingers move from your chin to your cheek, and lightning under his skin tickles yours. “come with me. I will protect you and the earthrealm from any danger out there.”

“I can’t –“ you utter, sounding not so sure of the decision but your heart knows the best – and that is to stay beside your raiden, the one who has you completely, not the one seeking power even though he needs to end his friends’ life or even another timeline to accomplish it. “I will never leave my raiden’s side.”

“how loyal,” he says, both irritated by the fact that your bond with the raiden in your timeline can’t be broken and proud of how loyal you’re for your love. “I wish we met in my timeline.”

with his confession, he leaves you behind, going to fight with others – how ironic, he comes here to end any life form yet he shows mercy when it comes to you. whatever it is that makes him do that, doesn’t matter, you say to yourself as you get up and go to help your raiden, hoping he will never turn evil.

JOHNNY CAGE in your own timeline is flirtatious and teasing enough – or as you thought until you see his evil version from another timeline after the great fight has begun. you can’t distinguish him from your johnny – but the moment his eyes find you, admiring how you easily defeat one his companions on the way to the top, he whistles playfully.

when you turn to see him, ready to make a moral lesson about how he shouldn’t be humoristic in a fight for death and life, you see his eyes scanning your body from head to toe shamelessly. realization hits you like a ball in the face; he’s not your johnny. he doesn’t care about anything in the world, well, your johnny didn’t either before meeting with you.

acknowledging that you see the danger when he winks at you, eyes finally directed to your face. “well, hello cutie. aren’t you such a beauty who will make aphrodite jealous?” he leaves a chuckle when you roll your eyes. without positioning a fight stance, you begin to walk towards him so that you can pass by his side – you can’t stand a version of johnny who is cockier and open-mouthed.

“woah woah,” he stops in front of you, hands on his chest, smirking, “already going, baby? c’mon, there is no man who deserves your attention as I do – not even your johnny if there is one.”

crossing your arms, a weary expression lightens your face up – still, you can feel the heat rushing to your body because of his flirty manner and words. johnny cage will be able to make you giggle with his demeanor with every version of him, won’t he?

“what do you want? a fight? then do it with someone else.” a dismissive hand movement makes him close the gap between you, eyes shining at your words.

“why pretty? can’t hit my handsome face? I bet you love seeing it.”

“u-huh,” you say, smiling as you put a hand on his shoulder, winking at him when he gets excited at the action. “you’re right I can’t hit my boyfriend’s pretty face,” you show his back, “but he can.”

when he turns around after you take a few steps back to leave enough room for your boyfriend to hit his own-self’s face with a strong punch, you chuckle. it’s a sight that will never leave your mind.

“hey pretty,” your johnny says, gripping you by the waist and pulling you closer. chest to chest, he puts a kiss on your lips, acting like there’s no battle happening around you, taking the taste of you that he missed so much even though he had you before this hell. “you missed me so much that you began to chat with cheaper versions of me?”

“of course not. no one can be like you baby.”

“oh hell yeah!” he chuckles, taking you by the hand, “then, let’s kick some ass, well,” he takes a quick look around before turning to you, “our ass.”

KUAI LIANG of your timeline can’t be looking as dangerous as his evil version even when he has a venomous fire radiating directed to the enemies. your boyfriend tends to have a tender side in him, especially for you. he’s the fire itself – using it to burn the ones who deserve it, and for warming you at any cost, in any place because he loves you so much that he can’t let himself go all wide beside you.

however, his evil version is nothing similar to him – maybe in a few situations but not on the battlefield in which no single soul can escape from the wrath scorpion has.

watching him from afar, for a moment, you can’t help but feel both power flowing through his armored body within the flames rising on the outline of his build, and hatred.

he mesmerizes you in aspects it shouldn’t have – how can you feel a connection between an evil version of kuai liang when you’re destined to protect your own realm, fighting right beside your boyfriend? guilt rushing to you as scorpion becomes aware of your existence, looking at you after he takes down an ally – your wide eyes that do not leave him is the impulse of it.

“hmm,” he says, slowly approaching you – you try to move, you really do but you simply can’t, not when every step he takes towards you sends a jolt of excitement and fear to your core, alerting you to either run so fast or stay still and you choose the second option without realizing it until he stops in front of you. “liked what you see, princess?”

he flirts, teases, and even sounds as if your kuai liang except he has a bloodcurdling tone in his voice.

when you don’t respond, eyes scanning his suit – looks like he came from straight hell, or he’s the hell, he scoffs, gloved hand replaces under your chin, pulling you closer to him as you rise on your toes to reach his height, hands finding his chest not to fall. “isn’t my version in this timeline enough for you that you eyeing me too? maybe he’s not good at satisfying you.”

heat rising within you, you can’t stop looking at his eyes – burning with flames, magically, yet seeming real as the blood covering his suit. you want to feel disgusted, but you’re far away from having such emotion.

when he lowers his head, closer to you, you hear kuai liang’s voice behind you – taking you from daydreaming to reality, making you realize you let his evil version do whatever he wants with you. “y/n!”

with such speed, you get away from him, ready to stay in fighting style when your kuai liang covers your body like a shield, standing between you and his evil version.

“you should go,” he says, taking a look at your face as he prepares himself to battle with an armored scorpion whose eyes never leave yours, still attempting to capture you. attempt fails when you shake your head negatively when kuai liang adds, “I will deal with him.”

“no,” you sound certain, standing beside your boyfriend, an assuring smile on your face, “we will fight together.”

evil version only chuckles at that, darkly, and with that, “if it’s what you wish, my love.”

“not yours. mine. and I will make sure to show you that.”

TOMAS’ determination is visible through his movements, unlike the one yours has, his eyes bright with such madness that your heart begins to pound in fear, not knowing whether he sees you as a treat or not – yet, he should, in the end, you’re not his partner in his timeline and he’s here to fight, not spare you just because his soft version gives his heart to you.

“tomas –“ the words leave your mouth, no particular control on it since it just splits out of you easily, to get a reaction from tomas – a good one.

“not your tomas,” he utters, playing with his karambit knife to show the readiness he has, waiting for the exact moment to attack you or defend himself if you take a sudden move, yet, you two agree upon a thing even without knowing it; neither he or you’re brave enough to hurt another, not when you have the love of his version in your timeline – his reason is unknown though. “I am better.”

“maybe you’re, maybe you’re not. it doesn’t matter,” you say, trying to find a feature that has hints of goodness in it by watching him raise one of his eyebrows, clearly curious about the rest of your speech. “for me, my tomas is the best, and he will remain as one.”

he chuckles, “is that so?” he’s more excited than you expect him to be. arms unite on his chest, making him look more dominant than you used to see. “I wonder what he does for you to say that – believe that.”

“he’s not hurting me,” he shuts you down – the thing your tomas will never do, he’s such a gentleman.

“I am not hurting you either,” seeing your relaxed body, he shakes his head, and with a smoke pump, he disappears in sight only to appear behind you, hands hugging you from behind, caging you inside his arms – tight enough to not let you go yet tenderness can be felt as well. he whispers into your ear from his mask, chin touching your shoulder as you take deep breaths because of the proximity you begin to share. other than your boyfriend tomas, you don’t get close with people and since he’s tomas but a more evil version from somewhere else, it feels odd – and excitement mixing within. “but I can’t promise for the future. if you just let me –“

when his fingers find your neck, you push him back, turning around, you take a defense stance, furrowing both at yourself and him – how could he? your tomas would never do things that make you comfortable even in the moments it feels breathtaking. “I should make you regret even suggesting such a thing!”

“no need love,” the time stops for a second, and the heart and soul find the ultimate medicine in the voice of your lover, tomas, whose fingertips touch your upper arms gently, traveling from there until they reach your wrists – his chest touches your back and the remaining marks of his evil version, the ones give you danger, fading away. “at the end of the day, he will not be able to utter any other inappropriate words with you,” staying beside you, he smiles at you – angelic. when he turns to his version, he looks deadly – you have never seen him like this, and from the way he stands, you believe he is determined to make him regret for your sake. “when I am done with him, he will never have the courage to show his face in here.”

“such bigger words from my weaker version,” the other tomas says.

shielding you, tomas bite him back, “I will show you how powerful I can be for my goddess.”

BI HAN’s betrayal still eats you alive, the marks of it have its ghost on your skin and soul; broken pieces, and a wound on the cheek that you got from one of his ice blades he threw to kuai liang whom you intended to protect at any cost, not wanting him to get into a fight with his older brother.

you believed it wasn’t bi han who was speaking – it was his madness that needed to be calmed down – you tried though, you really did but the moment you got hurt, you saw the guilt and concern in his brown eyes before they turned to pure fury as he sought of obedience from all of you.

the brief moment created a bloom in your chest for a spell but it vanished as it came, taking hope into the deepest part of your heart as you watched bi han and kuai liang fight, wishing there wouldn’t be a miscommunication among you all, however, you knew bi han’s obsession with power for lin kuei got more dominant than he felt for you.

it was sad – to see bi han, your bi han, go away from you slowly, not understanding why you don’t agree to be on his side, he feels his own betrayal coming from you – before the fight, he said how he was wounded at your choice – didn’t you love him? he asked and his broken voice now fills your mind as you look at your hands – then, a movement catch your eyes as you wait for the big fight.

“who did this to you?” someone asks – not someone, a voice says, and when his fingertips touch your chin, lifting your head up from where you sit, you see eyes that resemble your bi han. he’s from another timeline, probably in which he doesn’t seek power like the way your bi han does.

tears appear in your eyes, and to hide them, you fend off his gentle touch, not letting him touch the wound directly, “it doesn’t matter anymore.”

he stays silent, realizing it is bi han, in your realm and he sighs, touching you once again even if you keep as distant as possible you can, not wanting to cry in the middle of a battle area where people go and come as they wait for the upcoming fight. “I am sorry,” he says, and for a moment, you hear the voice of your bi han before coming to your senses.

“it wasn’t you – so, you’re not responsible for saying sorry.”

“but you need it,” he convinces, holding you by the cheek, covering the wound with his palm as if he gives healing through the touch, “and I am here to give it to you.”

you smile, not caring that tears flow into your cheeks, and to his hand – he knows you, not better than your bi han does, but enough to make you sense the comfort you seek within him. “stop talking or I will begin to believe I can beat the bi han’s possession.”

he smiles under his mask, and it reaches his eyes – he looks innocence incarnate. “you will. believe me when I say it, pretty,” he caresses your skin, the free hand positions on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “he will learn that there is no greater need except – you, his beloved one.”

💙

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gummyfang · 1 year

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♡♡♡ | ˗ˏˋ FULL GEAR WORKOUT ´ˎ˗

➳　【 K ö n i g　ｘ　Ｒｅａｄｅｒ】

❧ Warnings: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛 / 𝐠𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: man idk what this is i needed to get my gear kink out of my system lmao. konig fucks u in full gear that’s all. this is a mess. sorry no capital letters in this one my wrist hurts and pressing shift hurts womp womp :(

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ♡

“fuck, oooh scheiße, i can’t...” könig’s guttural babbling slowly died down in his throat as he groaned loudly, hips smacking against your pelvis with a noisy squelch. your back arches off the freshly cleaned bedsheets as his cock pistoned into your spongy cunt deliciously, but his gloved hands kept you from twisting away from him. this had all started as a joke. an offhand remark. as you’d dropped by könig’s barracks only to find him suited up in full combat gear, earning a look from you. he just explained it was for training purposes. his body had to stay used to the gear, as he had no time to grow comfortably accustomed to the weight and heat out in the field every time. clearly, he’d taken your joke about him fucking you raw in it for practice very seriously. your legs wrapped around his hips clumsily as könig continued to pound into you, the fabric of his combat cargo trousers causing your legs to slip down a little. although you were convinced könig was completely lost in the feeling of being enveloped by the feeling of your warmth sucking in his dick further with each thrust, you felt his gaze move down to look at you. his gray eyes were sultry and pooling with lust from beneath his sniper hood, his gaze just barely meeting yours through the holes in the cloth. “you need some help?” he laughed breathily. before you could groan out a response, könig moved his leathery grip from your wrists. you whined as the comforting pressure of his tactical vest left your abdomen. however, your whines quickly turned to loud moans as könig hoists your leg over his shoulder and starts thrusting his cock into you at a heightened angle. ohhh fuck. your head twisted itself back into the pillow, mouth agape as you watched your boyfriend fuck you. the glinster in his eyes told you he was thoroughly enjoying seeing you like this. “i should fuck you like this more often, engel. you look gorgeous.” könig growled. while his muscular right arm locked your leg in place over his shoulder, his other hand started exploring your body, fingers grazing over your clit. könig groaned deeply, his hips stuttering a little as his finger traced your bare skin. his cock twitched inside you, the sight of your naked body at the mercy of his fully clothed one seemed to do something to him he had never realized he loved. he pulled out of your cunt suddenly, a string of slick still attaching you to his erect cock. without any effort, he grabbed your hips and rolled you over onto your stomach, before reentering you from behind. you cried out as he picked up his pace brutally. könig’s eyes flashed with caution as he instinctively leaned over, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing your face into the pillow. “careful, now, engel. someone might hear us.” he growled, followed by a soft whimper. he wasn’t going to last much longer. your eyes rolled back into your skull as you felt the hard, icy metal of the canisters and tubes of his vest press into your back. it was painful, but it hurt so good. something about that sensation sent you over the edge. “könig!” you cried his name into the pillow as your body spasmed, your puffy walls tightening around his cock deliciously as you came. könig groaned loudly as his body lurched forward at the sensation, feeling his gear press you into the bed even further. his hips stuttered as he moaned into your ear deliciously, before his cock spurted hot ropes of cum deep inside you. slowly, könig fucked himself out into you, before his hips finally came to a halt. you felt the draping fabric of his sniper hood brush against the back of your neck, damp with his sweat and breath. you felt his hand gently pat your hip twice before he pulled out, chuckling softly. “i think i just found my new favorite workout routine.”

#wrote this while cool cat saves the kids played in the bg #♡.nsfw #♡.mlw #könig #könig x reader #cod #call of duty #konig #konig mw2 #cod mwii #gummyfang #konig x reader #cod modern warfare

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spacedace · 29 days

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Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

#dpxdc #jazz fen #jason todd #social worker jazz #social worker jazz fenton #anger management ship #anger management #pre anger management #jason todd x jazz fenton #i don't know why i keep writing scenes where Jazz writes resumes to apply to work for crime bosses but it just feels right in my soul okay #the real reason Jason wears a full face helmet is so people can't tell when he utterly fails to hide his emotions about something #the idea of social worker jazz working in crime alley has completely consumed me mind body and soul

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ichorai · 1 year

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little dragon ; aemond targaryen. (m)

part two ; water dragon.

pairing ; aemond targaryen x tully!f!reader

synopsis ; he was your fire, and you were his sea, willing to push and pull the tides at his behest.

words ; 5.8k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy, established relationship (married), pregnant au

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, tiny bit of oral (f recieving), breeding and praise kink, pregnancy/childbirth, vhagar cameo, aegon being a menace, foul language, aemond being a good husband/dad unlike his own father, so sorry if the valyrian grammar isn't completely correct ;-; if anyone gets the bert & ernie tully reference you deserve a million dollars

main masterlist.

It happened in the dead of night. When the winds quietened to but a feathery whisper, when the moon shone white and gold and silver, when the fires in the hearth of your chambers had waned to a soft orange glow.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon,” he whispered against the flushed skin of your neck, traveling downwards to softly kiss along your clavicle. His voice was gravely and rich, soaked with honey and ocean salt. The sapphire within his eye glinted with the dim lighting of the sparse candles scattered around your chambers, and you craned your head to press a kiss upon his scar, your nose slotted against his cheekbone.

My love was what he’d said—you didn’t know much Valyrian, still trying your best to study during your free hours, but your husband called you that often enough for you to recognize the affectionate words.

One of your hands was buried within his silken silver hair, tugging in tandem with his swift, fluid motions. The other clawed down his toned back, leaving angry red trails in its wake. A strained cry fell from your kiss-swollen lips as you rocked your hips against his.

Aemond held your waist in a tight grip, thumbs brushing against the sides of your ribs with every stroke of his throbbing cock within your slick, heated cunt. His lips, his tongue, his teeth—all blistering, scorching, searing with need.

“Sīr sȳz syt nyke, ñuha embar.” So good for me, my sea. He was your fire, and you were his sea, willing to push and pull the tides at his behest. A guttural groan tapered his voice to a close when you clenched around him, his susurrating praises mumbled against your breast sending jolts of arousal straight to your core. His rapid, desperate string of Valyrian fell upon deaf ears, buzzing with pleasure. Stars colored your vision a blinding white when one of his hands relinquished his hold on you to snake down your abdomen, pressing his long fingers against your clit.

“Aemond!” you just about sobbed, legs curling around his waist to pull him closer. You were insatiable, cracking your eyes open once more, a thin film of tears warbling over your widened gaze. “Oh, please, please—!”

A gasp caught in your throat as he thrust into you with more power than before, but froze once he was completely sheathed within your throbbing cunt. “Please, what? Have I fucked you stupid already, jorrāelagon, hm? Dragon got your tongue?” he hummed in mild amusement, regarding your beautiful, sweaty form with a hungry, lustful expression, eyebrows cocked as he waited for your answer.

Part of you wanted to snarl at him, tell him to keep moving, but the other half of you wanted to cry and plead and beg for his cock.

Knowing your husband, he would’ve been quite pleased with either.

“I want you to finish inside me,” you breathed out, lips brushing the shell of his ear, eyes half-hooded with want. “Fuck me full of your cum, valzȳrys.”

His cock grew impossibly harder within you, throbbing almost painfully—whether it was because of you calling him husband in his native language, or because of your devilish tongue laving upon a sensitive spot on his neck, he couldn’t quite tell. Expression hardening, he grabbed at your hips and yanked himself out of you, before flipping you onto your stomach and swiftly breaching your entrance in no less than three seconds, earning him a shriek of surprise which winded into a litany of breathless moans and blubbering pleas.

And yet, he remained still, cock stretching you out so deliciously well—but he wasn’t moving. You sobbed with frustration, burying your face into the feather-pillow in front of you, muffling your desperate cries. Aemond’s growl thundered through his throat, and he slid his hand into your hair and tugged you up flush against his chest, so he could hear your obscene noises loud and clear. His free hand creeped down between your trembling thighs, where his middle finger only barely grazed over your clit, despite your fruitless attempts to buck your hips up to meet his touch.

“Ask me again nicely, ñuha embar,” he whispered, placing a loving kiss to the side of your temple. “In my mother tongue—you remember all those lessons I gave you, no?”

You wanted to curse at him. Your Valyrian lessons with him were the very last thing on your mind at the moment. Thoughts hazy, you murmured out a bit shakily, “Kostilus, qogralbar nyke, Aemond. Ta… Tatagon iemnȳ, kostilus.”

Please, fuck me, Aemond. Finish inside, please.

He hummed in satisfaction as he pressed sweet kisses along the curve of your shoulder. He gently pulled out and began to roughly thrust back up into you as soon as you moaned out, “Nyke jorrāelagon ao!”

I need you!

A broken sigh tumbled from your throat when he finally began to fuck you just the way you wanted, knowing that your climax was drawing near. You had no chance of lasting when he began to circle the pads of his fingers against your clit.

“Iksā sīr sȳz. Sīr, sīr sȳz, ñuha embar,” he said, chest rumbling with each word. You feel so good. So, so good, my sea. “Avy jorrāelan, avy jorrāelan, dōna ābrazȳrys.” I love you, I love you, sweet wife.

You preened with his praise, arching your spine and pushing your hips back to match his quick pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, of your arousal rang loud and true throughout your chambers, bouncing off the stone walls and ricocheting back to you, heat spidering over your skin upon hearing your own lust.

“Tatagon syt nyke,” he growled, motions growing erratic and hurried. Cum for me.

With one final moan, you collapsed against him, cunt spasming tightly around his dick as you toppled down from the edge, pushing Aemond over the brink as well, spurts of warm cum painting your cunt. Despite the both of you already coming down from your highs, Aemond rocked into you a couple more times, kissing your sweaty hairline over and over again as he showered you with muted praise. The sticky substance dripped down the insides of your legs once he gingerly pulled out of you with a low sigh. He reached down to collect it and abruptly stuffed his cum-slickened fingers back into your cunt, wrangling a sharp intake of breath from you.

He chuckled lightly, pulling his hand back out and dragging his tongue over his finger to taste the filthy mix of your essence with his seed, before winding his arm around you to allow you to do the same. You whimpered around his fingers, sucking on the digits slowly—Aemond could feel his cock growing hard again.

With a pleased hum, he languidly set you back down on the bed so he could lay beside you, pulling his hand away from your mouth with a lewdly wet pop.

“I love you,” you croaked, throat parched and voice hoarse from all your moaning, an utterly blissful grin stretching your swollen lips.

Aemond cupped your face within his palms and pressed a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. “And I you, my dear sea.”

MOON ONE.

“It’s been a moon since you’ve bled, my lady,” your handmaiden, Lailena, commented, a knowing excitement to her gaze. “Could that mean…?”

In truth, you haven't told anyone about your pregnancy just yet. Nobody knew except you and the maester, who’d sworn himself to secrecy with a kind, understanding smile. It’d been a couple days since you found out, and you were still trying to find a way to tell your beloved husband. In the meantime, you were enjoying the peaceful privacy of knowing that it was only you who knew of the babe growing within you. No doubt when the news would inevitably break out, Alicent and Aemond would be hovering over you like overprotective hawks.

Not being able to contain your smile, you grasped your handmaiden’s hands within yours. “You’re not to tell a soul, Lailena. I still have yet to inform the prince.”

Your handmaiden mimicked locking her lips shut, a beautiful smile etching across her features. “I am so happy for you, my lady. If you need anything—anything at all, please do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Oh, you’re too kind, my dear,” you hummed, patting her cheek affectionately. You had a soft spot for your young handmaiden—having stopped her from being sold into a whorehouse against her will at the ripe age of ten-and-two. “Will you please draw me a bath? I’d like to wash the day’s labor off of me.”

Not ten minutes later, you were sighing in relief as you sank into a tub of warm water, the heat a relief for your tense muscles. You let your eyelids slide shut, lolling your head against the bath’s edge.

A familiar pair of hands settled upon your bare shoulders, and you didn’t have to look to know that it was your husband coming to check in on you.

“Rytsas, ñuha jorrāelagon,” he hummed, kneeling by the gilded tub’s edge and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. Hello, my love.

“Aemond.” You shifted so you could face him, the water sloshing about with your movements. Nervousness was eating away at your insides, and you thought that no time would be better than now, where nobody else would bother you. “My darling husband, I have something to tell you.”

For a brief moment, worry flashed across Aemond’s expression, afraid something was wrong. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing bad,” you reassured him, a soft smile hanging onto the corner of your lips when he leaned forward to rest his forehead over yours. “At least, I hope it’s not.”

He remained mute, wordlessly urging you to continue.

“I am with child.”

There were exactly three seconds of silence, presumably Aemond taking time to fully comprehend what you’d just told him. And then, a rare, beautiful smile overtook his usually impartial expression, his heart skipping over several beats with the realization that he was going to be a father.

“You’re not jesting, embar?” he whispered, nose nudging yours. “Because this would surely be a cruel joke.”

Mirroring his growing elation, you let yourself beam brightly, craning your neck to kiss him properly. “I’m not jesting, Aemond,” you murmured, trailing your lips up to freckle kisses over the marred skin of his scar, and around his eyepatch, which you itched to yank off.

“My love,” he said, struggling to find words for how he was feeling. Overjoyed? Shocked? Scared? “This is… you’re so… wonderful. This is wonderful. Avy jorrāelan. I love you, more than anything—and our little dragon.”

You scoffed, pulling away from him with raised brows. “Dragon? You forget I am a Tully, dear husband—they will be half my blood.”

With an affectionate roll of his eye, Aemond lifted his hand to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Alright, alright. Half-dragon, half-trout, then.”

“Fire and water.” You nodded in satisfaction at the compromise, your jubilated smile stolen away with a kiss from your sweet husband.

MOON TWO.

Aemond felt the bed shift as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress. A small noise of discontent rumbled in his throat as he propped himself onto his elbow, vision still adjusting to the darkness.

“Where are you going?” he whispered, voice still gravely with slumber, twinged with confusion. “The hour is still early, my love. The sun has yet to rise.”

You hummed, leaning down to kiss his cheek, before rising onto your feet, shrugging on a silken green robe. “I have a sudden craving for honey cakes. I’m going down to the kitchens to see if they have any left from yesterday’s supper.”

“Now?” queried your husband, seeming partially miffed, and partially amused. He roused from the bed himself, sliding on a loose tunic so his chest wasn’t bare, and followed you out of your shared chambers and into the hall. “What brings about such a queer craving? You’ve never been particularly fond of honey cakes before.”

Subconsciously, you rested a hand on your stomach. “It must be the babe. I’ve been having the strangest cravings the past few days. Around a fortnight ago, I wanted to have nothing but apple fritters—those ones with cinnamon glaze, you know? For a while, everything else made me feel sick.”

A ghost of a smile graced Aemond’s lips. “I remember—mother said you were looking rather green at the mess table.”

You scowled at the memory, which spurred Aemond to huff out a laugh and tug you closer into his side.

“My little dragon is a picky one,” he murmured, glancing down to where your hand hovered over your belly, still having yet to show physical signs of the pregnancy. “This is a good thing, ñuha dōna embar. They must already know their worth.”

Once in the kitchens, a part of the castle neither of you had ever ventured in before, Aemond scoured around for the blasted honey cakes you craved for so badly, and found them in a small container on the highest shelf. He pulled them down and handed one to you, grinning ever so softly when you didn’t even give yourself time to properly thank him before shoving one into your mouth and moaning around the pastry.

Aemond kissed your temple and took a bite of his own piece of honey cake to appease your pleading urges for him to try it, even though it was far too sweet for his taste.

MOON THREE.

You were beginning to show, and Aemond couldn’t be happier.

“Our dragon is growing,” he’d say every morning without fail, a prideful gleam to his eyes. “And you have never been more beautiful, dōna ābrazȳrys.” Sweet wife.

That afternoon, he brought you down to the dragonpit where Vhagar was nesting with her brand new clutch of eggs, wanting to introduce his little dragon to his much larger one. You watched with wide eyes as her bronze, spiny tail curled around four scaled eggs, each a different shade of copper. It was a miracle that a dragon of her old age laid a clutch of eggs at all, much less four of them.

“Do not be afraid, embar,” he whispered, noticing your stiff movements and your hesitant steps, despite the brave facade you tried to hold on. “Vhagar will not hurt you.”

At the sound of her name, the dragon lifted her head, bright green eyes shifting to her master, then to you. She huffed out a small plume of warm smoke in greeting.

“Lykirī, Vhagar,” commanded Aemond, placing a hand on her snout and gently urging you to come closer. “It’s alright, love. She can sense the dragon inside you.”

Still a bit tentative, you shakily lifted a hand and laid it beside Aemond’s, stroking the warm scales of her large nose. Emerald eyes shining, Vhagar’s chest rumbled, and she dipped forward ever so slightly, slotting her hot muzzle against your belly, as if acknowledging the babe inside you.

Aemond smiled, his one eye creasing at the corners. “She likes you.”

“Though I have never been more petrified in my life…” you began softly, patting Vhagar’s snout and grinning widely, “I like her, too.”

“What do you say we pick an egg for our little dragon, hm?” asked your husband, commanding Vhagar to stay as Aemond led you to the beautiful quartet of shiny eggs.

MOON FOUR.

You leaned against the intricate stone railing of the balcony attached to your chambers, breathing in the fresh morning air. You had woken up early—much earlier than you usually did, unable to fall back asleep because of the baby constantly moving inside you.

Not too long after, your husband stepped out onto the balcony as well, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. Neither of you said anything, perfectly content on basking in each other’s comfortable silence.

His hand laid upon your slightly rounded stomach, rubbing gentle circles over the thin fabric of your sleeping shift. The first birds of the day chirped as the sun rose, spilling golden light over the two of you.

You leaned back into him with a pleased sigh. “Helaena has asked me to come watch the twins today. I’m rather excited for them to meet the babe.”

Humming, Aemond nuzzled his nose into your cheek. “I’m excited to meet my little dragon, as well.”

MOON FIVE.

Since you’d been having trouble sleeping as of late, Aemond found that fucking you to exhaustion was one of the few ways to get you to sleep soundly throughout the night. It was either that, or he could read philosophical books to you in Valyrian.

And though he quite enjoyed reading to you, the prince much preferred the former option.

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” he hummed deeply, bordering on a growl, thrusting back into your sensitive, slick cunt. My beautiful wife. “I’ve fucked you full hundreds of times and yet you always want more. I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything, sweet embar.”

A low moan slipped from your throat and you desperately pulled his face to you, your lips meeting in a feverish manner. He grunted into your mouth when you clenched around his lengthy girth, nails raking angry red lines down his shoulders to the middle of his back.

“Aemond!” you cried, bucking your hips up to meet his, lips parting in a tantalizing manner.

Your eyes slipped shut with the overwhelming pleasure, but Aemond grasped your chin, softly grunting out, “Keep them open, love. I want to see you when you come all over my cock.”

The intense eye contact made your body flush with a certain heat, hurtling you ever so close to your climax. Your husband snuck a hand between you to draw slow circles on your aching clit, and you were abruptly slammed into your third orgasm, the first two stolen from Aemond’s silver tongue and long fingers, respectively.

Utterly spent, you trailed kisses over Aemond’s cheek, up to his scarred eye. He had slowed down to a gentle rock, cock still stiff and aching within you. “You can move, Aem,” you whispered, placing a tender kiss to the very tip of his nose. “I want you to cum inside—I want my cunt to be dripping with your seed.”

And he groaned at your lewd words, dipping back down to meet your lips once more, all teeth and tongue. His breath hitched as he began moving once more, your soaked core feeling like absolute heaven.

“Mmh, fuck!” he growled, emptying inside you, catching himself with his elbow when he collapsed, thankfully before he could crush you or the babe. “So good for me, dōna embar.”

A low whine emitted from your lungs when he slowly pulled out, holding your legs apart to observe his spend leaking out of your fluttering cunt.

Much to your simultaneous dismay and pleasure, Aemond just couldn’t resist, swiftly moving down to drag his tongue from your cunt up to your clit, grumbling an expletive at your taste.

“Aemond!” you yelped, flinching away with overstimulation, lightly swatting at his shoulders with a laugh. “Gods, you’re going to be the death of me,” you said, grinning when he moved back up with an apologetic smile, dark sapphire glinting with the flickering candles lit about your chambers.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. You taste heavenly.” Finally, he settled back onto the bed behind you, pulling you flush against his chest. “Get some rest, Y/N. I plan on tasting you on the morrow. Perhaps you can ride my face again.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you murmured in response, not having listened to anything he’d said, already drifting halfway into sleep.

You slipped into a deep slumber with Aemond’s arm protectively slung over your baby bump.

MOON SIX.

You were grateful that you no longer grew sick at the sight of a regular supper. You weren’t quite sure how long you would’ve lasted on honey cakes and apple slices alone.

Dinner that night was a warm, peppered vegetable stew with loaves of steaming bread to mop it up with. There were other courses, such as honey-glazed venison, and slow-roasted pork belly—the latter of which Aemond avoided entirely despite Lucerys’ hushed giggling from across the table. Initially, he’d wanted to stride across the room and strangle the smug expression off the younger boy’s face, but one look at your stern, disapproving countenance made him hesitate, before begrudgingly digging back into his food.

He was to be a father soon. What example would he set for his child if he were to go about beating his nephews every other minute?

Lucerys was not the only one who stirred trouble at the table that evening.

Rhaenyra and Helaena were pleasant for the most part, querying about your pregnancy and giving their own advice from their previous experiences. Baela and Rhaena were also kind to you, eagerly asking if you had any names picked out for the babe. You told them that you haven’t yet thought about it, sheepishly smiling. “If you have any ideas, I’m more than willing to listen,” you told the younger girls, which made them beam brightly with excitement. You didn’t know the two nearly as much as you wished to, but you were willing to try and build bridges between the steadily distancing sides—bridges that Aemond, as much as you loved your husband, was keen on burning.

Alicent was silent for most of the time, only pitching in every so often to make passive-aggressive remarks to Rhaenyra, and occasionally trying to compliment you with a strained smile. As Aemond was her most beloved child, she’d always wanted to be closer to his dear wife, but found it troublesome to bond with you when you were so very fond of Rhaenyra.

The men at the table, on the other hand, were an entirely different story. Jacaerys and Daemon quietly spoke to one another, but were rudely interrupted by Aegon spilling wine all over Jace’s lap. He drunkenly proclaimed it to be a slip of his hand, a mere accident—but everyone at the table knew he’d done it on purpose. Jacaerys was visibly stiff, but held his tongue, fist clenching and unclenching around a silver fork.

“I pity your betrothed, I really do,” simpered Aegon to his nephew, hiccupping as he downed some more wine. The rest of the chatter at the table halted to watch the drunken Prince blubber on further. “How will you please her in bed if you haven’t the faintest clue where to put your cock?”

“Aegon!” Alicent admonished sharply, eyes wide and jaw set.

The eldest Prince waved his mother away, standing up abruptly, brandishing another chalice full to the brim with alcohol. You briefly wondered where all these cups were coming from. Then, Aegon rounded his gaze on you and Aemond at the other end of the table. “See, my dearest brother has figured out how to do it! Look, his wife is all round with his first child—perhaps the next could be mine. It matters not which Targaryen fucks you, it’s not like you can tell the difference when the babe comes out. Your Tully whore of a wife probably wouldn’t even mind, brother! I’d bet all my coin every guard in this room has sullied her already!”

In a blink of an eye, Aemond was on his feet, lips curled into a snarl. Alicent also stood up, glancing between her two boys worriedly, afraid a fight would break out.

You were the last one to rise, placing a hand on Aemond’s arm. He seemed to soften beneath your touch, glancing back to look at you briefly, nonverbally making sure that you were alright.

You shook your head, glaring harshly at Aegon, before turning on your heel and marching out of the mess hall, leaving a portion of your dinner largely untouched.

It took everything within Aemond not to clamber onto the table and throw his fist into his older brother’s arrogant, drunken face. He longed to resort to physical violence—after all, Aemond was taller and stronger and quicker than him, and would easily best his brother in a fight. But his urge to be by your side was far greater, so he settled with scathing words and a lingering threat.

“You are a foul excuse of a brother, Aegon. If you ever dare to insult my wife again, I will carve out your tongue myself and feed it to my dragon.”

With that, Aemond stormed out of the hall, strides quickening so he could catch up with you. On his way out, he faintly heard his mother trying her best to patch up the situation, rambling in a panicked fashion, “Aemond doesn’t mean it, Aegon. Sit down and finish your supper, will you?”

Aemond rolled his one eye. He’d meant every last word of what he said.

When he finally caught up to you, you were already in your chambers, gently wiping the dampness of your frustrated tears from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, tugging you into his chest and stroking the back of your head. “My brother is a drunken fool. Do not take his crude words to heart. He is not worth your tears.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Aemond,” you murmured into the fabric of his tunic, blowing out a calming sigh. “You didn’t have to follow me, though… you didn’t get to finish your supper.”

He blew out a mildly amused huff. “Neither did you, dōna embar.” Sweet sea. How you adored the affectionate nickname he called you. “I love you. And I would follow you to the ends of this world if I had to—even if it meant missing a bit of supper.”

It felt as if your heart was melting through the confines of your ribs, and you could only lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You are everything to me, my darling Aemond. I love you, too.”

MOON SEVEN.

The baby was kicking again. Nonstop, for the past three hours.

You glared down at your swollen belly, before uncomfortably shifting on the bed until you were sitting upright. The babe kicked once more, as if sensing your annoyance. You couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh.

From beside you, Aemond looked away from the thick history tome he was reading and tilted his head. He’d thought you were already asleep. “The hour grows late, ñuha jorrāelagon. What troubles you so?”

With an exhausted sigh, you laid your head upon his shoulder, and Aemond immediately shut the book and placed it off to the side.

“The babe,” you said, threading your hand with one of his and tracing shapes along the back of his palm. “They haven’t stopped kicking since I got out of my bath and I can hardly sleep more than a few winks. Though, I can’t say I can complain—Lailena says the ones who kick more will grow to be strong warriors.”

A small, satisfied smirk flitted over your husband’s sharp features. “Of course they’re kicking around—they’re a dragon after all.”

“Trout-dragon,” you reminded him, a soft smile to your lips.

Aemond barked out a laugh. “Dragon-trout.” His free hand came around to place it on the center of your belly, and he sucked in an astonished breath when he felt the baby moving around beneath his palm. He met your eyes, shining with pride and adoration—for both you and the babe within you. “They’re a true Targaryen. We’ve never been too keen on sitting still.”

“So this is your fault,” you bit out, drawing yourself away from his shoulder to narrow your tired eyes at your husband. “I just want to sleep!”

His purple iris glinted salaciously. The hand on your belly began inching further down between your legs. “Maybe I just need to tire you out, hm?”

“No, I’m already so very tired,” you murmured, melting beneath his touch. Immediately, Aemond retracted his fingers, cupping your face and pressing sweet kisses over your heavy eyelids.

“I’m sorry, love. What can I do?”

With a grateful slant of your lips, you settled yourself into his side once again. “Read to me, please. You have a very beautiful voice—it’s especially soothing in Valyrian.”

Humming, Aemond reached over to grab the history tome once more, flicking it open to where he’d left off.

The Prince began reading the tale of Aegon’s Conquest out loud for you, his Valyrian effortlessly smooth, like pure honey to your ears. Not even three pages deep, you had already given into the alluring promise of sleep, cheek smushed against his shoulder. Aemond kept reading anyway, placing a hand on your belly, certain that his child could hear his low voice.

“One day you and I will be in one of these books,” he told the babe, a wistful smile on his face. “And our great, great, grandchildren will be reading about us and the many adventures we’ll go on.”

MOON EIGHT.

The fire crackled hungrily as Aemond kindled the greedy flames with a fresh wedge of wood.

“What do you think of Jacaelar?” your husband asked. “It’s a fine name for a son.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t know—their nickname would be Jace, and you’re not particularly fond of the Jace we already know. What about a Tully name? How does Bert sound for a boy?”

“No.”

“Ooh, what about Ernie?”

Aemond grimaced. With a laugh, you playfully rolled your eyes. “Alright, alright. We’ll stick to Valyrian names.”

After a moment’s silence, Aemond suggested, “Vaeron?”

“Yes, I rather like that one.” You grinned. “Do you like Daera for a girl?”

Your husband sat down on the plush chaise beside you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “That’s a good name—though my younger brother Daeron might think we named our child after him, and I’d really rather not inflate his ego. I like the name Visera. There’s also Rhaelor, Jahaela, Haerys, Saelyra—”

“Oh, it’s just too many to choose from!” you exclaimed, cutting his extensive list off and sinking further into your seat. “We can just call the babe Aemond the Second and be done with it.”

With a chortle of laughter, Aemond shook his head, fine silver strands of hair tickling your cheek when he drew you close into his side. “And what if our little dragon is a girl?”

“Then we call her Aemonda. I don’t know,” you harrumphed, crossing your arms. Aemond lightly pinched your thigh. After another second, you gently proposed, “... Syraena sounds lovely. Don’t you think so?”

Humming, Aemond bowed his head. “Syraena. It is a lovely name.”

You rubbed your hands over your distended stomach. “Do you know if you’d rather have a son or a daughter?”

He took a moment to consider your question before quietly replying, “I care naught for the babe’s sex—they will be my blood, regardless. My little dragon.” Before you could correct him, he hastily added, “Trout. Dragon-trout.”

The two of you began cracking up with silent laughter, and you turned to watch the fire burn away, small golden embers floating up from the hearth.

You heard your husband murmur Syraena beneath his breath once more, clearly content with the name. A glowing beam graced your expression.

NINE MOONS.

The birthing was the most painful experience you’d ever gone through. There were tears streaming down your face, and your hair was damp with sweat. Aemond was by your side, loyal as ever, clutching your hand and murmuring sweet words of encouragement, uncaring of the impropriety of a man in the birthing room. He’d gone so far as to threaten the guards when they first told him that he should be waiting outside, enjoying the celebration being held in your and the babe’s name.

“Try to keep me from my wife and I will decorate the floor with your guts,” he growled, his single eye burning with a thirsty flame.

The guards didn’t bother him after that.

“Oh, it hurts! Aemond, Aemond, please, it hurts,” you sobbed, another wave of pain washing over your body. “I need the baby out! Come out, come out, come out!” you screamed, skin burning hotly as more sweltering tears meandered down your perspiring face.

“It’ll be over soon, embar, you’re doing so well,” assured your husband, even though he looked every bit as terrified as you did, perhaps even more so. Gods forbid such a thing to happen, but if Aemond were to lose you to the perilous task of childbirth, he didn’t think he could ever live with himself afterwards.

The midwives began telling you to push, and you happily obliged, eager to get the labor over and done with.

It was said that your screams shook the very ground, but that might’ve just been Aemond exaggerating the truth out of proportion.

“Congratulations, my Prince,” said one of the midwives once you’d pushed and pushed and pushed until you nearly passed out from the strain, the babe finally coming out of you with a shrill cry. Aemond could feel his heart lurch at the sound. “You have a beautiful, healthy girl.”

“Do not congratulate me, it is Y/N that did all the work,” muttered your husband, kissing the back of your clammy hand and sweeping the hair sticking to your face aside. “You were wonderful, jorrāelagon.” His face bore nothing but radiant pride, a rare beam stretching his lips wide.

He stood up, turning to the midwife to look upon his small, screaming daughter, who was quickly bound in a red woolen blanket. She handed him the babe, and Aemond gently situated her into his arms.

“You have the lungs of a dragon, little one,” he crooned, expression bearing little else than raw love and adoration for the tiny thing. With fluid movements, he kneeled down beside the birthing bed once more, easing the baby into your awaiting arms.

An exhausted smile made its way onto your face when you took the baby, cooing, “Oh, so you’re the one always kicking around during the night. It’s nice to meet you… Syraena.”

The baby—your daughter—sported thin wisps of silvery hair, much like her father and her grandsire. Targaryen blood ran thick, after all.

You turned to grin at Aemond. “She has your nose,” you murmured, voice thick with emotion and love.

Little Syraena’s wailing began to wane away as you bounced her, and she cracked open her tiny eyes for a brief moment, blinking up at the two of you with a wide gaze.

“And she shares the color of your beautiful eyes, embar. Rytsas, Syraena,” greeted Aemond, expression soft and ever so tender. One of his fingers reached out to gently stroke her soft, chubby cheek. For several moons, he’d read to her when she was still in the womb, and he wondered if she could recognize the sound of his voice.

“My little dragon…” Aemond murmured. “My sea dragon.”

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bellawoso · 2 months

Text

We fell in love in October

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

A/N: this was going to be an Ona fic, but when I discovered this picture of lex, I couldn’t help myself 🤍

i brought back diego for this fic, he is too cute not to, and y/n + diego are besties in every universe :)

You were not happy that you were coming into work today, after working a full day yesterday, crammed with people only seeming to be ordering pumpkin spiced lattes with the now colder autumn days.

You loved your job, working in a small cafe in Barcelona whilst you completed your studies, seeing your favourite regulars each day, and the perk of being able to make yourself a coffee whenever you would like.

It wasn’t unheard of for new customers to come in, however it was extremely rare. The cafe was tucked away in the depths of Barcelona, reserved for locals who new the area extremely well.

One of your favourite regulars was a tall, heavily tattooed, blonde woman, who often came in each morning in a Barcelona training kit, wanting a latte.

At first, you had joked that she was a big fan of Barcelona, thinking her matching kit was quite extreme for a fan, however you later learnt to your surprise that she was on the team, which she still teased you about to this day.

Your co-worker Diego, a massive football fan, still fawned over Mapi each day she came in, until one day you couldn’t stand his shyness and instead asked the question that always lingered on the tip of his tongue.

“Diego wants to know when you will bring some other footballers Mapi”, this statement received a smack to your arm from said co-worker, who had blushed crimson red.

“I’m a big fan, okay?” Diego justified himself.

Except Mapi only chuckled and explained she liked having her “own” coffee shop hidden away, and didn’t like sharing with her teammates.

You and Diego left it there, understanding people like their own secret pleasures, Mapi’s being the staple in her daily routine, of visiting you two and ordering a latte.

———————————————————————

You had forgotten about the conversation with Mapi, until two weeks later, she walked through the door at her usual time, you and Diego had already pre-prepared her drink, except for this time, a blonde woman, also in her training kit, followed her into the cafe.

The moment you and Diego both saw Alexia, you both stood there dumbfounded for a second, completely forgetting Mapi’s drink.

Diego was shocked because as a loyal football fan, he obviously knew who Alexia Putellas was, it was hard not to, internally he was fangirling.

You however, thought Mapi’s teammate was beautiful, her smile, her eyes, her muscles.

You broke out of your trance first, handed Mapi her drink, whilst asking “Would your friend like anything?”

The girl spoke up “a latte aswell please”

When you asked for a name for her order, she froze for a second, the majority of people in Barcelona knew who she was, with her infamous nickname “Reina”

Mapi chuckled and muttered

“Ella es inglesa, y no es fanática del fútbol” (She’s English and not a football fan)

You, having moved from England for your studies only a year ago, had no clue what they were saying rapidly in their heavily accented Spanish.

Diego however, heard and laughed with them “She’s called Alexia chica, do you not know the footballer”

“I’m sure if I knew, then I would not be asking, would I? Idiota!” You replied whilst scribbling down the name on the cup, as Diego feigned a look of hurt as he prepared Alexia’s drink.

“Si Diego, deja en paz a mi barista favorito!” Mapi said (Yes Diego, leave my favourite barista alone!)

“I don’t know what Maps said, but I agree with her” which earned a grin from Mapi, as you handed Alexia’s drink to her.

“Pasarlo bien” (enjoy)

“Gracias y/n” Alexia replied with a soft smile, as her eyes lingered on your name tag.

“Adios chicos! See you tomorrow” Mapi shouted as she left the shop.

“Adios Mapi, and Alexia!” You and Diego shouted.

As soon as the door shut, Diego squealed in excitement, “you like her! You have a crush on Alexia Putellas!”

“Shut up Diego! No I do not”

“Ay! Do not fret chica, I saw she was eyeing you up too!”

“Don’t be silly Diego! Now hurry you have to prepare Val’s drink, she comes in soon!”

Although Diego left his teasing there, it didn’t stop for the next few weeks when Alexia accompanied Mapi each morning, and both you and Alexia constantly flirted with each other, but neither making the first move.

Until one morning Alexia didn’t come in with Mapi, and the regular explained how Alexia had to go in earlier today, but how she was going to call in later after training at around 3 o’clock.

Until at 3pm, just as Mapi said, your favourite blonde stepped through the door.

“Bon día, my favourite customer!” you said, earning a smile from Alexia, she usually complimented your improving Spanish, which always no doubt brought a blush to your cheeks.

“Hola y/n! Can I have a-“

“A latte? It’s already finished Ale” you said, sliding her drink towards her, the use of her nickname falling from your lips made the midfielders cheeks flush pink.

“Thankyou cari, tastes as amazing as always” Alexia had recently been using the term of endearment for you, the first time you head it, you choked on your latte, making Diego and Mapi let out a boisterous laugh.

“Can I get you anything else lexia?” You asked.

“Your number.” The blunt statement caught you off guard, did you hear that right?

The girl you had been pining over for the last month wanted your number?

Alexia mistook the silence as rejectment, and turned to leave muttering a soft “lo siento”

“Ale! Wait!” Which made the Spaniard turn back round, a glint of hope sparking in her eyes.

You grabbed a napkin and scribbled down your number, adding a heart on the end and handing it to the blonde, who looked like an excited puppy.

“Call me?”

“Why else would I want your number cari?”

You blushed at the obvious statement, shrugged your shoulders, and the previous adrenaline high you received from Alexia asking for your number, pushed you to lean over the counter and kiss the blonde’s cheek, making her in turn blush.

“See you tomorrow?” The blonde hesitantly asked.

“Diego missed you.” You stated.

“If I gave you both tickets for the upcoming match, would you go?” The blonde asked uncertainly.

“To cheer you on? Obviously ale.”

The Spaniard grinned happily at your answer, said goodbye, and left.

The same night, you received two e-mail tickets for the upcoming Barcelona match.

When you told Diego, to say he was excited was an understatement.

You however, was only excited to see where your new future with Alexia would take you.

———————————————————————

A/N: Making a part 2 now! But I will do a poll of New Romantics part 3 or part 2 of this! 🤍

#Spotify #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #aitana bonmati #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon x reader

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justlemmeadoreyou · 4 months

Text

secret little rendezvous*

Summary: Part 1 of friends with benefits!harry series. It's going to be full of smut, and also a tint of angst.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT!, kissing, dirty talk, degradation, p in v sex, jealous feelings

"All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me."

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

Harry was fucked.

Completely, utterly fucked.

In his defense, he was tired. He had been running around his workplace the whole day, managing the work of 4 people because they wanted to “spend the holidays with their family”.

And here he is now, staring at anything else he could find, other than the warm cunt beneath him swallowing up his cock with each thrust. The wall, the headboard, the ridiculous stuffed toy near the pillows, anything, just so he won’t cum before you.

He knew that if he looked down, he instantly would. Flood your pussy with the pent up load of this whole shit week he’s had.

But you don’t mind. Given the point of being friends with benefits with him is getting an equal share of everything, but he gets a pass because he can get you off with his fingers easily, something others can’t.

So, you try and push him. Squeeze tighter, moan louder and arch your back just a lil’ bit more just to make him cum faster.

“I know what you’re doing, won’t work” he lands a hard slap to your ass, earning another moan as he increases his pace. Wet, sloppy thrusts, each paired with his grunts and your moans.

He grips your waist, leaning in so his chest meets your back, nipping at your earlobe while biting your neck below your ear.

“Hey, fuck off, man. That could be seen” you slap his shoulder, and he nips off, giving you a particularly rough thrust, making you lurch forward. The headboard bangs against the wall repeatedly, his thrusts paired with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin.

“At least they’ll know you get laid” he remarks, and gets back up, feeling a bit held off, reaching a hand below and rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, that’s not fair” you whimper, legs giving out beneath you. You squeeze around him harder, gripping the sheets as you get closer and closer.

“I know, baby. That’s why it’s fun” another rough thrust into your sloppy wet cunt and you’re gone. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, toes curling as the orgasm washes over you.

“Oh fuck!” you curse as you bite your lower lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an incredible orgasm.

He already knows.

He cums soon after, grabbing your hips harshly as his thrusts become slower and shallower, , his breaths ragged and uneven against your skin. He repeatedly curses, your name intertwined between them as he empties himself on your back.

“Fuck, that was good” he slaps your ass a last time, making you whine. You put yourself down on the bed, but not moving too much because of the cum on your back. He falls on the bed beside you, eyes closed as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed, a sly smile on his lips, face glowing in the afterglow.

He gets up soon after, almost as if he timed the 30 seconds he had taken to recover. He walks to the washroom with his dick still hanging out, closing the door behind him. You stare at the door till you hear the sound of the flush, and he comes out with some toilet paper.

He climbs back on the bed, reaching you and wiping his cum off your back. He wipes it down completely, though it takes some time given how much he had cum, throwing the used paper into the dustbin nearby. You want water, but he isn’t one to care for you once you’re done, other than wiping off his release.

“Can you-bring me water from the kitchen?” you ask, already knowing what his answer is going to be, and mentally cursing yourself afterwards.

“What am I? Your boyfriend or something?” he shakes his head, picking up his pants from the floor and quickly getting dressed.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to give me water afterwards.” you reply, putting your head back down on the pillow so he doesn’t say that you’re watching him dress.

“It doesn’t. But, I don’t do that shit. And you know that'' he raises his eyebrows, but you don’t look up. Not at least till he’s out of the room.

Seeing the lack of reaction, he gets his coat from the couch and his phone, his keys, before yelling for a last time, “Close your door”

You don’t reply again, and he storms out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You really wish he cared.

Just a little bit, maybe?

>>>

“I don’t want to do it” you reply to Harry on the phone with a hand on your head, pinching the skin to relieve some of the pain from your head throbbing.

“You didn’t have any problem before. Whenever I called, you would say yes”

Ugh, you really really wanted to throw the phone across the room. Or at his face. If he worked in your department, you would happily call him in your room, and slam the phone at him.

“Well, I do now. My head is killing me and if you don’t shut up soon, I’ll throw this at you when I see you next.”

“So tonight then? I’ll stay away from you”

What?

“What? Tonight? Why?”

“Dylan’s birthday”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck. And since he got you the “Special invite” you’re gonna have to be early for Dylan” he mocks you, because he had sent you a bouquet of flowers with an e-invite.

“Oh get over it.” you huff.

“Whatever. I’ll avoid you tonight. Don’t try and stick to my ass”

“You wish”

With that, you cut the call.

>>>

Getting ready for the party, you were a mess. You did not want to go and get mocked by them for the bouquet, you did not want to see Harry and you did not want to leave the house either. It was so cold outside, and you would have to drive a good 4 miles because that bastard celebrates birthday like a teenager.

The party was average. There were only two people who teased you, Leah and Emily, oh, and Harry of course. Others had forgotten, and you were so grateful for that.

“So, you and Dylan. Huh” Harry came up to you, with a beer bottle in his hand. He was the one who told you to stay away from him, and here he was now, purposely coming and sitting near you.

“Shut up” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink.

You ignored him, looking anywhere else except him. You looked at the dance floor, where everyone was swaying their hips and moving with the music, the bar where they were serving drinks, anywhere.

And he did not like that.

“So, how was your day?”

You turned around 180 degrees, raising your eyebrows at him.

“What??”

“I said, how was your day? Or did your headache make you deaf?” another sip off his stupid beer.

“Seriously? Mr. Don’t stick to my ass is asking me” you pointed your fingers towards yourself “how my day was?”

“Yeah, I was just trying to make small talk”

“Well, wrong time. Shut up”

You went back to your own business, sipping your drink and ignoring him successfully. He seemed frustrated with you, and you were sure his nose was flared too. It was only for a few moments, because then his phone beeped. A message.

“Ah! Finally!” he drank the last few sips, and got up, throwing his unlocked phone beside you.

“Take care of it, will yeah? I’ll pay my bill and come back to take it”

That bastard.

It was a text from some Sophia, who was his hookup for tonight since you had said no. He wanted to show you that he had other people to sleep with, and that was why he threw his unlocked phone to go and pay for a drink from a party.

He really was a condescending dick, wasn’t he?

You sat there till you saw him turn back from the bar, and as soon as he was within your line of sight, you got up and left.

You saw him cursing while he picked up his phone, and he was most definitely cursing at you.

Not that you cared.

>>>

He didn’t call you for the next week, and a few more days after that. If he could act like a child just to tell you he has multiple hookups, something you didn’t really know about, you could at least pretend to not care.

Not that you did, no.

Next you two saw each other was at the Christmas party.

Some co-workers were bringing their kids, and so a few were asked to be dressed as Santa, Harry being one of them.

The Christmas party was more lively than stupid birthdays, and you were thankful for that. You had forgotten to book tickets to go back home, and last minute tickets were really not worth the raging dinner you had with your whole family. Most of the people would ask you about your boyfriend, when you were getting married, were you planning on having kids, how to raise them, where to raise them, all of which you didn’t want to worry about for at least the next two years. So, an office party followed by some takeaway and a Christmas movie marathon sounded perfect.

>>>

Most people had arrived, and the place was buzzing with chatter and the slow sounds of Christmas carols playing in the background. Everyone was dressed great, adorned in festive attire with a Christmas hat perched on top of their heads. You had worn an oversized sweater, tucked in a pair of skinny jeans, and boots that you had bought a month ago. Wearing a Christmas hat, you didn’t look so bad yourself.

You took a drink from the top shelf that was made to be kept away from the children, and you wandered off, looking for Harry. He might be a bastard, but it was Christmas, so you could bear him for a while, say Merry Christmas.

Looking through the cabins, the corners, he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was struggling with his Santa costume.

You found him soon after, struggling in one of the supply closets with his beard stuck to the zipper.

“Fucking hell! Oh for fucks sake!” he was continously cursing, while trying to pull the zipper down with limited strength. If he pulled too hard, the poor rented dress would definitely tear off.

“Want some help?” you leaned on the doorway, bringing your hand up to your lips as you laughed at his misery.

He looked at you with his resting bitch face, putting both hands beside his waist. He might look all tall and intimidating, dressed in all red with a big bod, but to you, he looked like a child who couldn’t even get his clothes right, and always messed them up.

You chuckled, before going over to him, trying to up the zipper and untangle it from the fake hair.

“Yeah, I’ve already tried that, smarty pants” he said frustrated, and you reached for your pocket, pulling out your lip balm.

“What are you doing with that? You know this is rented right? Don’t put lip balm on this!”

“Yeah, old man. I know” he rolled his eyes, and you began rubbing some wax on the zipper to smoothen it down so it’ll slide easily.

“And don’t tell me you don’t know how dirty these rented outfits are. This beard you’re wearing” you pull at it lightly, making him grunt, “is filthier than our kitchen. And you know how dirty our kitchen is”

He shakes his head, “Whatever, I just have to wear it for 2 hours or something, and then I’ll return this back”. He watches you intently as you rub the wax on it, and after a few tugs up and down, it smoothes out, and the beard untagles. You zip him up, and the red outfit fits perfectly on his tall form.

You take a step back, eyeing him up and down, with a smirk on your face. He doesn’t look too bad, he is tall and the outfit he’d gotten fits him quite well. The long trousers, the ridiculously large shoes, the cap on top of his head, he kinda looks hot.

He notices you checking him out, and puts his arms around his chest, pretending to try and save his sanity from you.

“Miss Y/n, what are you going to do to me?” he takes a step back, voice low and husky. And just for the fun of it, you decide to play along. You step forward, your steps synchronizing with his steps back, and he goes back till he bangs with a cupboard.

He looks at you with utter fear in his eyes, and you can’t help but bite back a smile, going all the way and gripping his waist.

Tightly.

He sucks in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knows he can’t get too excited, or the next few hours will be a nightmare for him.

You couldn’t be more tempted to put him into misery.

You pull yourself up, coming face to face with him, standing on your heels. He gulps down hard, knowing well how this will not end well for him.

You lean closer to his face, his lips just moments away from yours. Your hand shifts from his waist to his heart, which is beating widely in his chest. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead, and the tension between you is almost impalpable.

Your lips come closer and closer to his, and as soon as he lifts his jaw to kiss you, you pull back, and go for his neck instead.

It’s difficult with the beard in between, but you manage to lick a long stripe from his shoulder to his jugular, feeling his pulse on your tongue. You reach back and open your mouth, baring your teeth as you bite on the skin, nipping and pulling slightly to make a mark.

And to your surprise, he doesn’t stop you. Lets you bite and suckle at his neck till there’s a proper mark blooming on the side of his neck, the skin turning red. Your tongue glides over the mark, soothing the slight sting as you continue to tease him. He moans, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, his hands finding your waist. It’s so easy-you could slide your hand down to his pants, squeezing his crotch and he’ll be done for. He’ll get hard and then be miserable while the kids ask to sit on his lap.

But you decide against it. Wearing that costume just for the little rascals to click pictures with him and make fun of him later. It was torture enough.

You pull back, and as expected, his pupils are blown out, eyes full of lust. And, as expected, he’s half hard.

You lick your lips, a little breathless as you look up at him. He looks down at you with the same lust and hunger, and you get week in the knees as he leans in and whispers, “You’re going to be sorry for that tonight” he reaches back and grips your ass, giving it a light squeeze, “on your knees”

Your stomach flips with anticipation as his words send shivers down your spine. You know what he means, and it only adds to the growing heat between your legs. You’re left with an open mouth as his grip on you is gone, and he leaves the room. You stand there for a good 5 minutes, before blinking rapidly and exiting the dark room to join the party.

The party was uncomfortable, to say the least. For both of you. You were hot and bothered, the wetness between your legs growing as you imagined him on top of you, his hands tangled messily in your hair as he fucked your face, drool and tears dripping down your face as his cock pushed in and out of your hot, wet mouth. His balls slapping against your chin, your nose deep in his trimmed pubes.The way his deep, husky voice would command you to open your mouth wider, to take him deeper.

You could almost taste him, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky scent of his arousal. Your mouth watered at the thought of him filling you, stretching your lips and throat as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. And that was making your cheeks hot and red, thighs pressed together as you looked at him as if he was a meal, one which you couldn’t wait to devour.

And maybe someone else was looking at him the same way too.

Olivia, a co-worker, approached you a few moments later, a little bit tipsy because of how much she had been drinking since she got here.

“He looks so fucking sexy, doesn’t he?” she remarked, and you blinked, pulling yourself out of your imagination.

You don’t mind other girls hitting at him. Well you did, somewhat, till you found out he was hooking up with others as well.

“Hm?”

“Styles. He’s so damn hot. Can’t wait to fuck him in that santa costume tonight”

Oh no.

“What?”

“Oh you don’t know? He fucked me last Wednesday. Said his other hookup cancelled and he needed someone who didn’t mind. I said yes. I mean, “ she tilted her head, looking at him with a face that made you want to punch her. “What bitch would say no to that? Have you seen the ass on him? And his dick. Holy fuck. It’s so fucking bi-”

“Okay-I don’t want to hear about that” you stopped her before she practically drooled over him in front of you, and described how he fucked her.

“What? You don’t like to hear some good fucking. Oh come on, it’s not like you’re getting boned, are you? You’re so boring?” she rolled her eyes, before turning around and bumping her shoulder, walking away.

No way you waited 2 hours for him just to have her take him.

No fucking way.

With gritted teeth, you picked up your purse, and walked to Harry on the other side of the room. You pulled at his arm, to try and take him to the side to talk. He reluctantly walked, making you pull his huge body half the way.

“Hey, hey, patience, love. M’ not going anywhere. Can’t you wait for just a few more minutes? Then I’m all yours” he said with a smirk.

“Well, Olivia here was describing me how you fucked her last wednesday and how she was taking you home with her today. So, what is happening?”

“What? Olivia? Hell no. She’s super drunk, and I don’t want to be around her”

“Well, then hurry. Ditch this stupid party and…take me home.”

You whispered the last part, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless and desperate as you did. He was an asshole, but he was great in bed and the idea of her doing the same with you did with him, made you want to blech.

“Awww, someone’s a bit romantic. You’re jealous, aren’t you love?”

Here we go.

“No! Why would I be jealous of that…that bitch?”

“There it is. Ugly emotion” he was smiling like a moron, and you felt so embarrassed. Jealousy, or any other emotion, wasn't supposed to be involved, but it eventually always does, doesn’t it?

“Alright, fine. Now shut up and take me home before I change my mind” you said with a frown, and began to walk away.

“Yes ma’am” he replied, following you closely.

>>>

Harry drove you both home, since you were drunk. You were sitting tilted with your back against the window, legs propped up on the sheet. He looked so sexy even when he drove, his jaw clenching every time there was a signal. He was rock hard in his pants, and he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck your mouth.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he slammed the horn, hitting the brake as the last signal before his street was on too. You giggled, biting your lower lip as you looked at him with doe eyes with your legs propped up on the front.

You leaned forward and turned on the radio, and he gave you a glare. As the song played on, you slowly hummed to the tune, twirling your hairs around your fingers and looking out the window. You were so nonchalant, and Harry did not like that.

“Do you have any idea how hard I am?” he growled, almost painfully. You had a complete idea of how hard he was. He had been so turned on since your encounter in the storage room, and seeing you jealous had probably egged him on even more.

“Hmm?” you turned your head and looked up at him with an innocent look, your hands crossed above your chest.

“Oh.” he chuckled, and you knew you had managed to reach his nerves, “Is it? You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You shook your head in a no, mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked angry, as well as horny. Pupils blown out and eyes full of lust, cheeks red. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, while he was controlling himself so much you had no idea. Restraining himself from bending you over and taking you right there in the backseat.

The car came to a halt, and you saw that the signal was on. The last signal before you pulled up to his house.

Before you could blink, he had opened his seatbelt, and was reaching over to your side, pinning your hands to your chest with his wrist. The other reached down, pulling your sweater up and revealing the top of your jeans. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and a cruel smirk was painted across his face.

“Harry-harry, what are you-” you murmured while he undid the button, unzipping your jeans and pulling it down with a harsh pull.

His hand immediately found your panties, and he pulled them to the side, his cold hand making contact with your wet cunt.

You shivered and moaned at the contact, eyes falling shut as his fingers caressed your swollen nub. He pushed one finger in, and you were a goner.

Your legs squeezed shut, mouth parting open as his ring met your lips, the coldness making you whimper. His finger was longer and thicker than yours, and only one was enough to make your walls clench.

A horn blared from the car behind, and your eyes widened. You tried to move your hands, but he had pinned them down firmly, his finger still deep into your pussy.

“Harry-there’s someone behind-they can see you-harry-”

You were stopped by a crushing kiss to your lips, and seeing you hesitant, he pulled his finger out. Pulling back from the kiss, he put the same finger into his mouth, sucking the wetness, eyes falling shut at your taste.

“Know people can see. Though that turns you on even more, doesn’t it?”

You looked down at your unbuttoned jeans, cheeks turning hot and red at his admission. You had a bit of an exhibitionism kink, and people looking did turn you on.

“Knew it. You’re a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? Good god, I’m so going to fucking ruin you tonight”

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

You were holding on to that promise.

(part 2)

a/n: i spent wayy too much time writing this! no idea why? but i really liked the idea, and i just spiraled with it, and the next thing i know it turned into a series! anyways, let me know if you like this! if this gets enough notes, i'll definitely do a part 2! love you all!

please like, comment or reblog if you like this, i really appreciate every note 🥺🥺

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