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barbieaemond · 4 months

Text

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos."

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror.

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

#likiri #liv(in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x wife reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #hotd fic

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keeksandgigz · 5 months

Text

okay okay, but imagine an older!modern!eddie getting ticked off every time you have your phone on 'do not disturb.'

this was supposed to be a blurb but pls queens turn off your dnd this is loosely based on a true story

eddie munson x fem! reader

word count: 3k

cw: porn with a little plot, spanking with a spoon, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv (pls don't do that), use of nicknames (sweetness, sugar, baby etc), established d/s dynamic (even if there isn't much of it here), no physical description of reader, minors dni, smut below the cut!

Like, it starts off kinda funny like "Honey, c'mon I need you to return my calls if I know you're free. I needa know my girl is safe" he says, voice real sweet. You just apologize and turn it off.

Until it becomes a recurrent thing. He'll call you to ask if you still need to get picked up after class while you're out running errands. You don't see his call until after class and you hurriedly call him to come pick you up.

Or he's at the grocery store to pick up dinner for later and he's texting you to ask what he needs to get for you and you just don't answer him. You don't see his texts.

He tries to call. Voicemail.

He later gets home with whatever he was craving and just starts cooking.

"But I thought we said we were gonna do pasta, Ed? Why're you making chicken?" you ask, literally without a clue as to why dinner plans have changed.

"Well, sweetness, if you don't answer my texts or return my calls how the hell am I supposed to know what kinda pasta you wanted, huh?" he just shrugs, voice a bit hardened. You can tell it's starting to tick him off.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Ed, I don't even know where my phone is, really" you scratch your head, looking around but not really in search for your phone.

"Well, if you didn't have your DnD on you'd know where your phone is once I call or text you. It's starting to get a little frustrating, baby, can you please be a little more mindful and turn off your 'do not disturb' when you don't need it please?" you just nod sheepishly, like you've been scolded for not saying 'thank you' to a gift you didn't like.

And it does end up happening numerous times. Luckily, nothing too insane.

Sometimes he'd ask you if you wanted to call and you just sit there waiting for him to call. After ten minutes, you assume he's gone to sleep (he's a bit old after all), so you turn off your phone and tuck in for the night.

"Why didn't you pick up last night baby? I called you like six times" he asks the morning after.

"Wait, you called? I was waiting for you to call and then you didn't so I just went to bed" you explain, then clocking the issue there. Shit.

"You had your DnD on, didn't you, sweetness?" and he gets close to you. Close enough for you to hold your breath, too entranced by his big presence, filling up every bit of your vision. You feel suffocated by him.

You look down, too much to be looking at him right now, with the aura of calm and cool control that he exudes. It'd be easier for him to swallow you whole than for you to be making eye contact with him right now.

He just takes care of that promptly for you. He gingerly places two fingers under your chin, making you look at him in the eyes.

"You look at me when I talk to you. You know better, don't you baby?" and he puts on this fake pout that makes you blush all over. You imagine the butterflies at the bottom of your stomach tinging a pretty shade of pink with every domineering word that comes out of that man's mouth.

You just nod, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, releasing you from the delicious torture of him invading your senses as he takes a step back, letting your chin go before he just goes back to what he was doing.

"Oughta punish you one of these days if you don't turn that damn DnD off" he mutters and then he's back on his computer.

The gruff words make your shaky legs stutter as you decide you cannot be standing anymore and you plop yourself on the couch.

His last straw, however, is when you're out at a club with your friends. You've had one too many drinks and you text Eddie to come pick you up. He has no idea where you are.

Yeah, baby I can pick you up. Where at? 12:34 am

Can't pick you up if you don't tell me where you are, sweetness. 12:42 am

You there? 12:50 am

Turn off your DnD PLEASE 1:00 am

I'm omw 1:03 am

And he pulls up in front of the bar you were helplessly staring out the door of. You're not drunk, just not having fun.

You run into the car, shivering from the biting November breeze.

"Had to call one of your friends to tell me where the fuck you were. Are you drunk?" he asks. Voice stern, laden with what you could only define as barbed wire. Cutting, angry, almost.

"'m not drunk." you mutter "I had, like, a shot, then I decided I wasn't having fun anymore. Didn't wanna go out in the first place" finding the creases and ridges of your hands very interesting all of a sudden.

"Trust me when I tell you you won't be having fun at home either. Fucking sick of that 'do not disturb' thing on. You had me scared to death." he seethes, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. You notice he's wearing his pyjamas.

Fuck. You made him get out of bed. You shrink in your seat.

"Y'don't wanna be disturbed? I'll fuckin' teach you about being disturbed" and that's the last thing he says before he just speeds home.

There's thick tension between the two of you when he opens the door to his apartment. You sit on his counter, looking at the floor and getting ready for another scolding.

He's leaning on the wall opposite to you, arms crossed.

He breaks the silence "Floor's lookin' clean? You gonna look at me now?" you shiver, then look up to meet his darkened eyes.

He scoffs and takes a few paces towards you, until he's placed between your parted legs.

"What do I gotta do with you, huh? Do I gotta start checkin' your phone to make sure that damn thing is turned off? As far as I'm concerned after your classes you shouldn't have it on at all" he remarks, his hands caressing over the nylon of your tights, toying with the fabric of your dress.

You interject "I just forget, Ed. I'm so busy these days I forget to turn it off" you jut out your bottom lip, trying to coax a bit of sweet sympathy out of him. Something that'll make the punishment a bit lighter.

But he remains unmoved, his lips in a straight line as he moves his hands up, up, up to firmly hold your waist. "So forgetful, aren't you, baby? Maybe you need a reminder, carve some space in that big, busy brain of yours to remember to turn your DnD off, hm?" he chides, playing with the insides of your arm, skin sensitive and waiting as his thick finger moves up and down and you can't help but nod.

Your breath begins to pick up ever so slightly. But he notices, of course he notices. The way your mouth parts and your pupils dilate. The way your chest begins to get closer to him, rising and falling in anticipation.

"So pretty" he teases, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his palm, letting out a sweet humming sound that makes Eddie's stomach flip despite his hardened facade "Y'wanna play?"

His voice goes to a deep, dark timbre, the question making you shiver. You speak for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Yes, sir" voice thin and quiet as you keep looking at him, not wanting to worsen your precarious position as he undoes the zipper of the short dress you're wearing, helping him out by taking your arms out of the thin sleeves.

"Good girl," he remarks, tapping the sides of your thighs to make you lift your hips, removing the dress off of you completely.

He licks his lips when he finds you're wearing tights. He loves spanking you with the nylon barrier between his hand and the soft skin of your ass. A weird quirk of his.

You feel the hardened pressure of his bulge against the inside of your thigh as his body turns to litter a trail of kisses over your jawline and you keen into his touch, arch towards his chest demanding more, more, more. Even if you're in no position to demand anything.

A whine escapes you as you keep arching your hips towards him. Eddie's quick to stop you with a strong hand pinning you down against the marble of the counter. He tuts.

"Don't be greedy. Hop off and bend over" he commands, and who are you to say no to him as you comply with a meek "Yes, sir," resting your elbows on the cold counter.

His nose skims the length of your spine, taking in the way you smell. Sweet and musky, after a night of dancing among sweaty bodies. The thought intrudes Eddie's head. Did a body press itself against you? Is the scent of a random man now on the skin of your back, the fabric of your dress?

He shakes the thought away as he reaches the waistband of your black nylon tights.

"Pass me that wooden spoon, will you, sugar?" he says sweetly, snaking a hand in your hair. You shiver as you reach for the wooden utensil in the metal bucket next to the stove. You pass it to him, skin pricking up from the anticipation of not knowing what he might do with it.

"Thank you, baby" he kisses your shoulders, as the spoon comes into contact with your ass. Caressing up and down.

"Now, I hate to do this, you know me, but I gotta teach you a lesson, sweetness. Tell me you want this" he says, the utensil snaking its way between your legs, rubbing back and forth. A wicked smile appearing on Eddie's lips when you begin to helplessly whimper, your head lolling on its side against the marble counter.

"I- I want this" you say, loud enough to make him hear you.

And that's all he needs. A green light.

The wooden spoon lands on the meat of your ass. You hiss. The feeling is new, he hadn't spanked you with anything aside of his hand before, but the feeling of the wooden handle cracking on your skin makes your head reel.

"You gonna put your phone on DnD again?" he asks, a question he knows the answer to as he cracks down the spoon again.

"Ah- ow- No, sir. Thank you, sir" you say, sweet and compliant, hoping that it will relieve you of your penance earlier than he'd planned to.

His hand sneaks itself on the seam of your tights, knowing you never wear panties with them, feeling the heat radiating off of your core, a dampness that had been sitting there since you'd climbed in the car.

He chuckles to himself, a dark laugh, a notice that he will not go easy on you tonight.

"You're likin' this?" you can almost hear the wicked smile in his words. "You little slut, you're getting wet from this? Me smacking you with a spoon?" he taunts and your legs quiver as he administers two more cracks to your ass.

You have cotton in your ears. Your skin feels everything and nothing at the same time as you begin slumping against the counter.

"So horny you can't even stand, huh, sweetness?" Eddie smacks you again and then reaches his arm around your waist to pull you up "Little slut didn't want me to disturb her, hat true?" he asks, another smack, this time he expects an answer.

"Fuck- ow- no Eddie that's not-ah" another smack "t-true" you sob, tears beginning to well on the waterline of your eyes.

Your ass feels on fire while Eddie puts the spoon down next to your head. Your legs shaky in your heels as he kneels between your legs.

Two of his fingers hooked on the seam of your tights as he rips a hole in them, exposing you to him. You gasp, more at the suddenness of the motion than at the action itself.

Your tights never had a long enough lifespan when you wore them around Eddie.

"You got so wet, sweetness." He whispers, entranced by the way the skin glistens in the dull kitchen light.

His hands hook around your waist to keep you still as his face narrows into your pussy, and he begins to lick.

Broad stripes of his tongue, slurping and lapping up whatever he missed. Eating like a man starved.

Your back arching to get more, more, greedy in the best way possible as you mewled and cried for him to keep going. As you mewled and cried nonsense, feeling your brain turn fuzzy and your eyes becoming accustomed to going to the back of your head every time his tongue lingered long enough on your clit.

When he begins to suck harshly on it you have no choice but to grab the back of his head and push it further, if there ever was a further, as he is wedged deep between your legs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

He doesn't like it, though, the way you grab and push at his head like you're the one calling the shots.

He unhooks his arms from your waist momentarily to reach for your wrists to pin them behind your back, that's when he stands from his place in between your legs.

"Y'think you're a big girl, huh? Callin' the shots?" he lands a smack on your ass, turning you around to finally face him. Hands still pinned behind you as he pushes you towards him.

"I didn't- I don't-" you try and justify yourself, but he just delivers a smack to your face. Light enough to give you a slight sting.

His chin glistens with your slick, and you can smell it on him.

"Look what you did" he says, taunting you. His free hand comes to squeeze your cheeks, making you look at him.

"Clean me up, since you wanna be so fuckin' messy" and he squeezes harder, your tongue jutting out to lick at the clear wetness on his face, slight stubble scratching your tongue and chin. You lick around his mouth, under his nose, until he pushes you away from him.

"Greedy, greedy" he chants, as he places you on top of the counter, cold marble a relief against your aching ass.

You could clearly see the outline of his cock against his sweats, you bite your lip as he inches closer to you. “Look how hard you made me, baby," he mutters, low and dark "it’s impossible to be in your presence when you look like you want to get fucked all the time." he continues "Goin' out in that tight little dress like you don't want everyone to see your pretty tits" he says, grabbing a handful through the bralette you're wearing.

He moves the cups to the side as he toys with your tits, a hand reaching into your mouth to wet his fingers. You gag and sputter around his digits.

"Theeere you go, sweetness. Y'like having your mouth full?" he asks, Hardened stare urging you to answer. You nod and let out a weak hum in approval as his fingers keep pushing in and out of your mouth.

He removes his fingers from your mouth as he begins circling the sensitive buds of your nipples. You let out a desperate moan.

"So sensitive, aren't you? You wanna cum like that while I fuck you?" he asks, and you can't find the words fast enough to nod your head yes.

"Ask me nicely. You know better" he says sternly as he uses one hand to lower the waistband of his sweats, letting his cock spring free.

"F-fuck, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me, sir" is all you can muster, before he guides his cock to your entrance, sinking in all the way to the hilt. A gasp escapes you. It never gets old.

"That's a good girl. Wasn't so hard, was it?" he teases, both his hands returning to deliver their ministrations on your tits, thumb unforgivingly grazing your nipples. The motion makes you scream as Eddie sets a quick pace.

"That's right, sweetness, keep singin' for me. Lemme hear that pretty voice" he says, his words making you clench around him.

His hands come off your tits to place your legs on your shoulders, making you curl in on yourself as he leaned his body to make your faces touch.

"Kiss me, baby" and you kiss him with such fervor and need. He hadn't kissed you the whole night. You don't know how much you need him to kiss you until you do and it's like fireworks are going off behind your hooded lids.

His tongue slips past your lips as he keeps thrusting, unforgivingly, hitting your g- spot every. single. time. You whine into his mouth, he chuckles at how needy you sound.

"My baby just needed a good fuck to remember to not put her DnD on, didn't you?" he taunts, an especially harsh thrust follows as you feel his breathing become more ragged and his pace begin to stutter.

"Feels good, huh? Shit, baby you're so tight" he begins and you can't help but moan.

"Feels good Eddie- huh- so... so deep" you hiccup, and you feel close. "Hmm so ah big" you groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head when a particularly well- angled thrust deliciously hits your spongy walls.

"You like that, sweetheart? God- fuck- so gorgeous, baby. Look at you" he rambles. He's getting close.

"Oh fuck, Ed, 'mclosesoclose" you cry out and you're seriously teetering on the edge of orgasm. A few more thrusts and you'd be gone.

"Me too, sweetness, c'mon cum for me" he thrusts a couple more times and the coil snaps. You're clenching and whining and screaming his name while he follows after you, finishing inside you.

He stays there even after he's done, laying his head on your sweaty chest while you both try to stabilize your breathing.

"Feel free to disturb me whenever you want" you say, and he chuckles, giving a soft kiss to your shoulder.

taglist: honey-flustered, fracturedarkness, them-cute-boys, ancientcrone-blog, eveybitch, everythingtodayisthoroughly, jennathinker, @vampysstuff, rubyirene, floriscus, mrsmarch64, fairymunson, capricornrisingsstuff, sole-screws, helloweenfiend, flaminggarbagepail, @squigglebottom, @cozmiccass

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #older!eddie #older!eddie munson

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luciddownloading · 7 months

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12th House Placements and Backlash

Part of why people can be so hesitant to express their 12th House energy is that, in its most direct or purest form, it often attracts negative energy. On some conscious or subconscious level, we know that and can seriously fear it. These reactions are part of the whole "hidden enemy" thing with the 12th House, in that it's a part of you that people can judge, reject, criticize or project on without you understanding why. It should be stated that you're NOT doing anything wrong by expressing your 12th House. And since 12th House people are so sensitive, this can cause you to overinflate the negativity you do receive. You are still definitely loved and valued. However, if you want to avoid unnecessary pain and suffering (another 12th House concept), it's easier to find other ways to go about expressing it. This grants us that transcendence this part of the birth chart promises; a deliverance from confusion and sorrow to acceptance and peace.

SUN IN THE 12TH HOUSE

Those with a 12th House Sun get backlash for, unfortunately, just being themselves. It's like they breathe and people have something critical to say. For some, they may be way "too much" and, for others, they are seen as holding back or not giving enough. It feels as if the approval of others is only earned by jumping through rings of fire and even that may not be satisfactory. 12th House Sun people eventually learn to cope with this by creating some sort of persona to protect themselves, much more than the average person. VERY few people will get a glimpse at the "real them" behind the character they've created. As a result, these people are either super-private and shy or deceptively big personalities who others don't know nearly as well as they believe they do. Though this can be isolating, it can eventually allow them to understand the profound importance of real intimacy and how special it is to let that rare, deeply trusted person truly see you.

MOON IN THE 12TH HOUSE

12th House Moons rarely get the sympathy they truly deserve, especially from family and close friends, who may love them dearly but have a dysfunctional way of using this individual to more so meet their needs or cater to their feelings. Those with this placement can bottle up a lot and when they finally do express their emotions, they get labeled whiny, needy, crazy or any negative stereotype of their Moon sign. What these people have to realize is that they, regardless of gender, are the motherly figures to most around them, not vice versa (including their own mothers, in some cases). A Mom shouldn't expect their child to understand their feelings. But, they also MUST take regular breaks from caring for others for self-care as well as to be supported by their inner circle. It's crucial that they find a nurturing partner and emotionally mature friends who they can consistently lean on. They learn that they can't trust many to truly be there for them. So these bonds are incredibly valuable and often lifelong.

MERCURY IN THE 12TH HOUSE

It's hard for Mercury in the 12th House people to get others to truly listen to them. Many of them are told they're too quiet or made to feel intellectually inferior. Others may get the opposite: that they never shut up, that they're too smart for their own good. Either way, people often respond to their perfectly good ideas and sensible insights with silence or willful ignorance. They eventually have to learn that they are here to merely act as channels for information. They are the messengers (some are gifted channelers or mediums) and that can come with the threat of getting metaphorically shot. But, it's important to not take it personally. They can also serve as voices for those who need encouragement or are too scared to speak up. People are often more receptive to the 12th House Mercury person when they're "speaking out" for a cause or something bigger than themselves. Their ideas can be seen as distracting or out there yet expressing opinions that are socially aware or will help others gets more people on board with what they're saying.

VENUS IN THE 12TH HOUSE

Venus in the 12th House people can deal with a lot of resistance in terms of other people's reactions to their love lives. This varies, though, depending on their gender expression. Those with this placement who are more feminine are routinely put on a pedestal. Few people are seen as being "good enough" for them, especially since they often have many obsessive admirers. So they make many choices in romantic partners that are deemed controversial, even if they're actually not so bad. On the flip side, those who are more masculine often are the controversial choice in love. They can be "unconventionally attractive" yet seem to pull mates who are incredibly desirable, inspiring a lot of jealousy. Either way, much of the criticism has a way of dying down if the person a) realizes what people think of their love life is irrelevant and b) takes measures to protect their relationship with enough privacy. You don't have to prove to anyone how happy of a couple you are. And not everybody is going to be genuinely happy for a thriving couple anyway.

MARS IN THE 12TH HOUSE

It can seem as if it's impossible for a 12th House Mars person to fight back. Not necessarily because they're incapable of it but because they get a lot of pushback whenever they do. Again, this can differ depending on the person's gender expression. If they are more masculine, their well-deserved moments of assertiveness and understandable anger can cause them to be labeled rude, a bully, a mean girl/boy. If they are more feminine, they may be expected to just sit there and take and take endless wrongdoings. And when they finally lash out, instead of being nice and passive, they're shamed for it. Ultimately, 12th House Mars people benefit from accepting that there are more ways to fight back than outright aggression. Depending on their Mars sign, they can kill with kindness, defeat their enemy with a logical debate or just channel their energy into the best revenge: success. In any case, the more they enforce boundaries while keeping their cool, the easier it is for others to see who the real enemy is.

JUPITER IN THE 12TH HOUSE

It can be very hard for some people to truly celebrate the victories and blessings that Jupiter in the 12th House people receive. They seem to already "have it all", whether or not this is actually true, and they have a way of activating the "lack consciousness" of particularly insecure people. They are also quite sensitive to this and can feel horribly guilty for their success and prosperity or try to make themselves smaller to comfort others. That's not the answer! But it does help to realize that not everyone wants you to thrive, unfortunately even certain loved ones. This is foreign to Jupiter in the 12th House people, who truly want others to win, which is why they can flaunt their good fortune with an innocent expectation that others will be happy for them. It's important for them to learn to "move in silence" and focus more on generously supporting others on their path. In doing so, the Universe will continue to bless them.

SATURN IN THE 12TH HOUSE

Saturn in the 12th House individuals encounter a confusing backlash when they express and display ambition. Some people will be very skeptical or critical of their goals and plans while others can pretend to be happy for them while feeling secretly jealous. The thing is that these people, often without doing anything, are already viewed as being "better" than others. They exude a certain class and distinction, always appearing in their own league. So, when they actively pursue positions of power or status, it can be seen by many as very threatening. If they are too strongly in "boss" mode, they come across as harsh, scary, or (the word that haunts them) intimidating. People are much more relaxed and receptive with them when they lead with their feminine energy. So, for Saturn in the 12th, success and influence come much easier when they are especially collaborative and supportive or simply seek to be of service to others through their work. Letting go of specific ambitions prevents them from attracting unnecessarily competitive or dismissive vibes from others. Then, their high level of dedication and efficiency can receive the recognition it deserves.

URANUS IN THE 12TH HOUSE

It can seem as if a person with Uranus in the 12th can't just let loose and have some fun without ruffling someone's feathers. This is often accidental as they are just more irreverent, mischievous or wickedly funny than most, without trying to be. They get an inexplicable thrill out of getting into trouble that can become compulsive. So, when they've offended someone, that only motivates them to be even crazier. This is what can get them labeled "edgelords" or "try-hards", written off as annoying by their detractors. Their outrageous antics can majorly distract from the fact that they have something smart and interesting to say. And cool. 12th House Uranus folks are incredibly cool people, capable of setting trends and breaking new ground. If they stop pulling their little (or big) stunts, their It Factor and creative genius will shine through in a way that's undeniable, even to their critics.

NEPTUNE IN THE 12TH HOUSE

Those with Neptune in the 12th can run but they can't hide. These very sensitive people can seek solitude and private reflection to the point of reclusiveness, even the more extroverted ones. But, others refuse to leave them alone for long, especially in public. Often to their chagrin, they are very magnetic to others and their energy can be addicting to be around. And, like a celebrity of sorts, if they aren't fully receptive to their "fans" (which can include their awestruck loved ones) they can get a range of reactions from disappointment to anger to sudden indifference. It's much harder for these people to thrive when they aren't consistently putting themselves out there. Neptune in the 12th people must learn to limit their necessary recharge time and devote more energy to their adoring public. Hard as they may try, they can't fade into the background. They are meant to be noticed and celebrated, bringing their special magic and glamour to the world at large, instead of hoarding it all to themselves behind closed doors.

PLUTO IN THE 12TH HOUSE

When Pluto in the 12th House people assert their power, they can unfairly receive many harsh and extreme reactions from others. There can also be an infuriating double standard, as others may act in similarly intense, passionate or dominant ways without judgment. But, when they do it, they're seen as evil, destructive or manipulative. The unfortunate truth is that many people project the darkness on to this individual that they cannot handle within themselves. However, out of a sense of righteous rage or wounded pain, the Pluto in the 12th person may double down on their radical ways, only reinforcing people's fears or judgments of them. They thrive best when not reacting to the hate, refusing to feed into the drama. Soon, they come to realize that no response can often be the most powerful response. While redirecting their energy, their haters usually end up self-destructing through their own negativity. Meanwhile, they learn the true meaning of control.

NORTH NODE IN THE 12TH HOUSE

Change is an incredibly difficult concept for those with the North Node in the 12th. A lot of these people, for instance, may spend their entire lives in the same city or turn their hometown into their personality trait. It also often seems as if they are never truly allowed to "move forward" or "move on". Family or old friends could feel betrayed if they start changing in some major way. But, the essential dynamic here is karma. There is a huge unresolved issue from a past life (or two) that is absolutely demanding to be resolved this time. It's very likely that it involves a soulmate of some kind who has followed this person from the last life into this one. 12th House North Node people can feel particularly "haunted", especially by this soulmate or anyone else from a previous life who is now in their present; either through direct criticism that they can't get out of their head or crazy signs and synchronicities (or both). And the more they try to just ignore the issue, the worse it gets. These people are here to majorly grow but not by seeking the future. They can only evolve by dealing with their past. There is something about their South Node placement they are repressing or in denial about. It's only when they embrace that truth that they will come into balance and access the strengths of their North Node.

#astrology #astro observations #astro notes #12th house #sun in the 12th house #moon in the 12th house #mercury in the 12th house #venus in the 12th house #mars in the 12th house #jupiter in the 12th house #saturn in the 12th house #uranus in the 12th house #neptune in the 12th house #pluto in the 12th house #north node in the 12th house #12th house placements #12th house stellium #12th house planets

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satorusugurugurl · 27 days

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Stuck in The Middle

Summary: After being cramped in a hot car between your coworkers Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, you learn a very personal detail about their lives, their sex lives to be in fact!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Word Count: 3,031

Warning: Masturbation, threesome, oral sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, Geto’s bangs 🥵

A/N: Someone, totally not me. *bombastic side eye at me reflection* Has been reading/looking at tons of SatoSugu artwork. Again totally not me! This was not my brain worm working against me. . .yeah. . .it was. . .🪱

“Satoru, please, you're on my last nerve.”

“Oh, why? Because I'm breathing? So sorry, I need to breathe, your highness!”

“No, it's because you keep rolling the window up and down! It's hot, and you're letting all the cold air out!”

“Okay, so you tell me how to preoccupy my time? My phone is dead, we're stuck in traffic, and I'm starving!” Satoru turned to glare at his best friend. “If someone hadn't nearly thrown up after swallowing that curse, we could be back at the hotel!”

“I will sic’ one of my curses on you while we're inside the car if you keep testing me!”

“P-Please don't.”

Both Satoru and Suguru seized up, looking down at you. You had been so damn quiet they forgot you were there. You were smashed between the two of them, struggling to breathe. You didn't want to be here. You wanted to go on your own mission. But Yaga had insisted your curse technique for talismans and veils was ideal for this mission.

And your boss wasn't wrong! The three of you kicked major ass, got the job done within a day, and would be staying the night in Chiba before heading back to Tokyo in the morning. That was if you made it to the hotel without Satoru and Suguru killing each other.

Since you left Tokyo, the two best friends have been fighting and arguing. Like they were both on edge, you thought that maybe it was your presence intruding on their space. But they were both civil with you; to each other, it was a different story. They bickered like an old married couple. That was fine at first, but now that they talked about fighting each other? The two strongest sorcerers you knew, yeah, you wouldn’t let that happen.

You sighed in relief as they pulled away, giving you space to breathe. “Oh, Y/N, sorry you're so quiet I almost forgot you were here.” Satoru placed his forearm on your head, leaning in closer to Suguru. “Don't worry about me; I can take Suguru.” Suguru sighed loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“She doesn't want us to fight.”

“Well, not everybody gets what they want.” The words come out like silk as you jerk your head to the side. “Hey!” You don't even have a chance to admire the pout on Satoru as your head collides with Suguru’s shoulder.

“S-Sorry.” This is the only word you can begin to muster as Suguru glances down at you. He gives you a soft, gentle smile, bangs shifting as he shakes his head. A gesture to let you know that you were okay. His eyes slowly open to glare daggers at the other man.

Satoru sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns his attention back out the window. His leg bounces up and down so fast it's vibrating the chair. At least he isn't rolling the window up and down anymore. Maybe the peace would last through traffic. Maybe God would grant you that singular gift.

But God was cruel because the peaceful silence lasted all but thirty minutes. Enough time to get you through the nerve-wracking traffic just as the assistant supervisor pulled up to your hotel. They were the first to get out, rushing to grab Gojo’s luggage from the back. You wanted to join them! To help, but alas, you were still pinned between the two taller men. They were still glaring daggers at the other, waiting to see which would back down first.

There was far too much testosterone in the air for your liking. So you wiggled your way past them, reaching for the door handle. If you had to crawl over their laps to escape to freedom, so be it. A sacrifice you were willing to make! Just as you were getting ready to crawl over Suguru’s lap, Satoru moved.

You let out a little oof as Satoru pressed his whole body against you. You inadvertently fell over onto Suguru’s lap. The dark-haired man’s hands shot up, his thighs tensing at you suddenly collapsing onto him. Before you had a chance to get off or move, you gasped, cheeks flush as Satoru pressed his hips against your ass, poking Suguru in the cheek very aggressively with his pointer finger.

”Does somebody have an upset tummy after swallowing that curse?” The mocking tone of Satoru’s voice nearly makes Suguru grow inaudible. However, it was loud and clear from where you were! Seeing that your face was pressed firmly against his thighs.

Suguru's hand reached up, grabbing Satoru by the front of his jacket, yanking him closer to his face. Which had him pressing his crotch harder against your ass; it felt good. One of your hands flies up to stifle the moan that threatens to escape your mouth as Satoru tries pulling away from his very grumpy best friend.

“Do you have a death wish, Satoru?!”

“No, but I still have your underwear from last week.”

“Yeah, well, I still have your virginity!”

“Mmmph.” You whine, and your hand doesn’t muffle the noise this time.

Both Satoru and Suguru freeze. Their eyes slowly drift towards your body. One hand is gripping Geto’s pants while the other covers your mouth. Your ass is perfectly propped up, right against Satoru. Neither of them can deny how hot you look sprawled out in front of them like this. They exchange a look with each other, while at the same time, you feel Gojo’s cock throb against your ass while Geto’s twitches against your cheek.

Their eyes practically burn holes through your skin, muscles twitching like predators about to pounce. You needed to move fast! Grabbing the handle to the door, you throw it open, crawling over Suguru, hitting the hard pavement with a thump that makes your ears ring. Two large hands grab your jacket, trying to hoist you off the ground and back into the car. Luckily, you’re able to shimmy out of it before you’re caught. You scramble to your feet, bolting for the hotel, ignoring the shouts behind you.

When you’re secure in your room, you plop onto the ground, gasping for air as you stare at the multicolored carpet in shock. Suguru and Satoru were fucking!? Oh God, why did they send you on this mission? It was bad enough having to be stuck between the two of them all day. Now you know details about their very personal and very intimate lives, what the hell were they going to do to you!?

”Stupid Y/N! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” You scolded yourself as you scrubbed your hands over your face. “Stupid body! Is it too much to ask for a not so reactive body!?” You screamed to the heavens, pushing yourself off the ground as you began pacing, biting your thumb as your eyes darted to the wall separating you and Gojo's room. “I-I’ll just act like I never heard it! Yeah, I don’t know who happened to Take the Gojo Satoru’s virginity.”

It was Geto, his one and only best friend, Geto Suguru.

Your mind kept stating that fact all evening. While you took a shower, ordered room service, and as you currently laid in bed. Scowling at the ceiling in frustration, you're tossed and turned. You were trying to think of anything else other than Satoru and Suguru.

Like how nice and comfy your bed was! How would Satoru look pushed into it? The moon was beautiful! Satoru and Suguru would look pretty fucking in the moonlight. Was the heater on? No, it was just you, wanting to be in the middle, to taste and feel each other, their bodies flush against you, like earlier in the car, only with less clothes on.

“Stop it!” you shouted, getting out of bed. “You can't fantasize about your coworkers like this! They said it by accident. Not on purpose!”

Deciding that sleep wasn't an option, you walked towards the bathroom to grab a glass of water. “S-Suguru~” A whiny moan behind the wall had you freezing in your tracks. “Ahh~ s-Sugu~!” you turned your head slowly, eyeing the wall.

“Satoru~”

God hated you. It was apparent that you were being punished for some unknown sin. You pressed your thighs together, staring at the wall for a long moment. Listening to the soft grunts and groans from the two men on the other side of the wall. The bed creaked, enticing you to step closer, to listen to their moans. Your body moved, inching closer to the wall. But before you could you froze. No, this was wrong! You shouldn't be eavesdropping! You should leave as this had nothing to do with you! Before you could turn to go, a sharp inhale caught your attention.

“S-She was so pretty~” Satoru cried out, “ah! I w-wanna touch her.”

“Yeah~ she's so pretty. I would love to have her and you at the same time.” A breathless whine. “Oooh, you twitched, Satoru. You like that idea~.”

You liked that idea.

Forgetting all morals, you strode forward, slowly dropping to your knees and pressing your ear against the wall. “Y-Yeah~ like it~” The bed creaked fast, squeaking under the weight of whatever the duo was doing.

“She’d look pretty stuffed between us~ stuck in the middle.”

You felt your pussy twitch, a silent plea for you to relieve the burning heat building inside you. “Fuck.” A tiny whine sounded in the back of your throat as you slid your hand inside your shorts, rubbing your clit. You imagined being stuck between them. The smell of musk, clean linen, and earthy wood. Put them together, and god imagining their scent lingering on your skin could almost make you cum. “Haaah~” you cry out a little too loud, but you're losing yourself in the fantasy that you don't even notice the creaking of the bed has stopped. “Fuck~”

“I wanna kiss her~” Satoru groans out.

“I wanna kiss her too, on that pretty clit.” Suguru added.

“Yes ~ yeah, I-I want that too.” Your fingers pressed harder against yourself.

“I wanna fuck her while she sucks you off. Same position as when we were in the car.”

“Yeah~ she’d look so pretty choking on me while you fuck her.”

God, they were so lewd! It had you crying out softly, legs shaking as you whimpered loudly.“Fuck!” You cried out, rubbing your swollen clit faster, mouth dropping open at your quickened pace. “Oooh fuck.” Touching yourself is just what you needed. Your fingers were inches from sliding inside, your tight heat. Soon, you’d feel sweet relief.

Knock, Knock, knock.

Three quick taps hit the wall right where your ear was. Hurriedly, you pull away, staring at the wall in shock. A chuckle sounds from the other side of the wall before you hear footsteps heading across the floor, their door creaking open before the same quick knocks sound from your door. Ooooh fuck.

With shaky legs, you stand, heading to the door, slowly opening it. You inhaled sharply as a large hand pressed against it, forcing it open more. Suguru slowly leaned down, his face flushed, his hair a complete mess, and his lips swollen. His sudden closeness had you stepping further into your room.

His eyes took in your own flushed face, darting your legs that you clenched. “So Y/N,” he stepped inside your room, gently grabbing your chin, “you gonna keep playing with yourself? Or do you wanna pick up where we left off in the car?” You failed to find the words, stuttering and stumbling over your traitorous tongue. Suguru smiled gently, tilting his head to the side, waiting patiently for your answer.

Going next door to join them was insane, right? Yes. Were you going to do it? Fucking absolutely.

“Y-Yeah—-I wanna pick up where we left off.”

“Good girl.” Ever so slowly, Suguru brought your fingers to his mouth. His eyes trailed over them, still wet with your slick. “Come on.” He opened his mouth, kissed swollen lips wrapping around your fingers, sucking on them sinfully.

“Holy shit!” You cursed as he swirled his tongue around them.

When he could no longer taste your sweet, tangy essence, he pulled off with a pop. His tongue lolled out, swiping at the corner of his mouth. “We don't want to keep Satoru waiting.”

Everything was a blur, shutting your door and entering their Satoru’s room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back as he slowly grinned—a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Awe~ you actually came.” Satoru patted the side of the bed, his erection straining against his boxers. “Come sit, sit, noisy girl.”

You plopped down next to Satoru, swallowing as the two men looked over you. “Satoru, she told me she wasn't to pick up where we left off.” The white-haired man perked up, blue eyes glancing at you as he turned.

“You do?”

“Yes.” There wasn't a second of hesitation as you nodded. “Yes, I do!”

“Okay, well, in that case.” Sitting on his knees, Satoru whistled happily as he pulled you up onto your knees with him. “Get into position.” He turned your body so your back was turned towards him.

For a split second, you were face to face with Suguru, sitting at the head of the bed. He winked at you before you were pushed down to present your ass to Satoru from behind. A tiny gasp sounded from your throat as Suguru squeezed at the bulge in his sweats that you were face to face with. A small wet spot formed where his tip was leaking pre-cum against the gray fabric.

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” Thick, long fingers played with the elastic of your pajama shorts.

“Mhmm, I'm positive.”

With a final approval of consent, cold air hit your bare ass as your shorts were yanked down. Hissing at the sudden chill, you focused on Suguru’s hand. It was squeezing the bulge harder; the faintest groans rumbled in his chest. Your hands trailed over his thighs, his muscles twitching as you grabbed his waistband.

“Can I give you a hand?”

Suguru shook his head. “No, you may not.” His words stung, a pout forming on your lips. “You may, however, use your mouth.” You beamed up at him, tugging his pants down, freeing his massive erection that bobbed in the air.

“Oooh, it's so pretty.” Gently grabbing his shaft, you stroked it. “Thank you, Suguru.”

While you took Suguru’s cock in your mouth Satoru slapped your ass from behind, spreading your cheeks, looking at your dripping cunt with a needy groan. “Fuck, she's soaked. Did you get off on hearing us dry-humping Y/N?” You gave a little ‘mhm!’ around Suguru’s cock. “Oooh, what a little perv,” Satoru growled, smacking your ass harder.

“No, she's a good girl.” Sweet sighs left Suguru’s mouth as you peeked up at him. “Such a good girl, look at you sucking my cock~ so good.” One of his hands gently pressed your head, urging you to take more of him, while the other rested behind his head. “Fuck, Satoru, her mouth feels so good.”

You were taking more of Suguru’s cock into your throat when you felt Satoru rubbing the head of his cock over your entrance. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned, the tip of his cock back and forth over your slick folds. He hummed, locking his bottom lip with a smirk. “Yeah, down here feels good too~ she's so wet.” Hot, velvety skin slid up. “So wet I might slip inside.” Your eyes widened as his tip pressed past your tight entrance. “Oops~”

“Y/N~ did Satoru slip inside like he said he would?” You moaned in response, deep-throating Suguru as far as you could, gagging over his length. “Fuuck~ you like it? Being stuffed like this~? Your mouth and your pussy are being put to good use.” your eyes water as he gagged more, Suguru pushing you down to his base. Your nose brushing against trimmed black pubes.

“Nnngh fuck, she's twitching like crazy. She likes it~ no, she loves this~!” Suddenly, you were filled to the brim as Satoru slammed into you, gritting his teeth.

Body twitching, you shut your eyes tight, focusing on breathing as best as possible through your nose. But fuck, it was hard to concentrate as Satoru’s hips began rutting against you at a slow and steady pace. Your moans and gags muffled together as Suguru gently thrusts his hips up into your mouth, a whine.

Both men looked at you for a long moment, watching drool running out of the corners of your mouth and how you began rocking back against Satoru’s clock, begging for more. Their eyes locked, gleaming with a mixture of lust and pure, unfiltered need before Suguru leaned over, kissing Satoru.

His sudden movement had his cock pushing further down your throat. You gagged, pulling back to breathe. “Ah! Ah, fuck!” you cried out, grabbing Suguru’s cock in your hand and stroking him as Satoru began thrusting harder. His grunts slipped into Suguru’s mouth as their tongues melded together. You glanced up, watching as Suguru cupped Satoru’s face in both hands, deepening the kiss as his hips thrust into your hand.

Satoru looked like he was struggling to keep up, hips bucking madly against your ass while his tongue moved against Suguru’s in a way that you knew he liked. There was no fumbling around, just two insanely hot guys making out with you in the middle. Breaking the kiss, you watched Suguru gasp for air, his hair even more messy before he grabbed you by the hair, spanking your head up.

“Enjoying the show?” You whined as you nodded; Satoru was now hitting your g-spot head-on. “Ooh, you getting close?”

“Yeah, s-she—ngh fuck!” Skin slapped against the skin as Satoru leans forward, trailing kisses up your spine. “She's so tight, so fucking tight, she's gonna cum, gonna cum and milk me~! Fuck!”

You jerked your hand faster over Suguru’s spit-slicked cock. Your eyes glaze over as Satoru whimpers over your skin. The sight of the two of you slowly unraveling has Suguru tilting his head back with a snarl. The two of you made the cutest whines and whimpers as the overwhelming tension of a building orgasm twisted in both your cores. He wasn't going to last, not at all.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” Suguru yelled, body doubling over, his hand gripping your hair. “O-Open wide~”

“S-Sugu—Suguru!” Satoru watched as his best friend jerked himself madly over your tongue before he shoved his cock into your mouth. “Y-Yeah, fill her mouth, give her that cum.”

Suguru does precisely that; you moan as his cum fills your mouth, thick and salty with just a hint of sweetness to it. He doesn't stop; Suguru just keeps thrusting, moaning, and grunting as he pushes all his cum into your mouth, only stopping when he feels you swallowing around his softening cock. When he looks up from the top of your head, he sees Satoru’s face scrunch up. Eyebrows knitted together as his hips jerk madly against your ass.

“Oh fuck me~ fuck me I'm cummin’ haa ha fuck!” As ropes of cum paint your insides, Suguru quickly reaches down, rubbing your clit as you pull off his twitching cock.

“C-cumming!” Your hoarse voice called out, your hands gripping Suguru’s shirt to steady yourself. “S-Satoru—Sugu—c-cumm—”

“Aaahh fuck!” Satoru grunts out, head falling against your shoulder as you scream, squirting all over him.

He keeps fucking into you, working you both through the waves of your orgasms, pushing you both to the border of oversensitivity. It isn't until you are both trembling that Suguru pulls his hand back, chuckling weakly as his two spent lovers collapse on the bed. He's half tempted to get up, to grab a warm towel to clean all of you off, but he doesn't.

Not when Satoru gently presses his middle and index finger against your chin, turning your head toward him. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” He leans forward, kissing you softly. You return his kiss, moaning against his lips as he repositions your bodies. You sprawled out under him as he stayed slotted between your legs.

Satoru only breaks the kiss when he feels Suguru climb behind him. He doesn't get to ask what he’s doing because Suguru pushes his head down, encouraging him to kiss you more. Satoru keeps kissing you, eyes going wide as he feels the wet tip of Suguru’s cock pressing against his stretched and lubed hole.

“That’s it, keep kissing Y/N Satoru~ it's my turn to enjoy the show~!”

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jointherebellion215 · 2 months

Text

His Kiss, The Riot

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When you and your secret lover make plain to Feyd-Rautha your wishes for a life together, despite the proposed arranged marriage, he surprisingly acquiesces. But he can't let you go so easily, can he? Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha, arranged marriage, NONCON elements, gore, violence, she/her pronouns, female!reader, tragedy, star-crossed lovers, songfic, not quite a happy ending (oops), dark dark dark interpretations of Hadestown and the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read If It's True and liked, reblogged, or commented. I appreciate every single one of you. As always, I would love some feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs if you can :)

This is Part Two to my Feydestown trilogy (I'm so sorry for the pun). You can read Part One here.

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

The devil takes this Orpheus

And his belladonna kiss

“So you wanna get married? Take away the woman I just offered my hand to, to whom I all but have legal claim?”

Your beloved’s replied words of affirmation to his words hold the slightest tremor, but like a dog to fresh meat, Feyd-Rautha sniffs this out immediately. Another smile graces his face. Feyd speaks to the crowd now, “Yes, I was promised the Lady’s hand in marriage. But! I am a benevolent figure, so I guess I’ll let the lovebirds go.”

The crowd starts to give polite applause, while your knees grow weak at the news. You can go? Has love really prevailed on this day?

“However,” and with that, your heart drops “I have some conditions for these… nuptials.”

You could sense the air growing thick with tension as the reality of the na-Baron’s ruling twists out of your favor.

“Conditions?” You whispered.

“Of course, my darling! I can’t make this too easy on you, now can I?” Feyd paces back and forth on the steps from which he speaks, making your eyes dart back and forth with each step he takes. Vigilance overtakes your body in case of any rash decisions.

“You two can leave the city, but it won’t be hand in hand. This pair will have to walk in single file, with the boy in the front and my darling Lady at least thirty paces behind. No ships, no speeders, no running. Walking.”

The energy of the room starts to grow more electric as the points of this term seem to set in.

“The Lady cannot speak out or make any indication of her following behind. You’ll be faced forward the whole journey. Once you reach the edge of the city and passed the threshold, you can be together for eternity.”

Your breath hitched. Seems easy enough, right?

“But, if the boy so much as turns his head to check and see if the Lady is following, the deal is off. She’ll return to me, and we will be married.”

Nothing makes a man so bold

As a woman’s smile and a hand to hold

“Is this a trick?” Your beloved asks plainly.

Feyd tilts his head, pacing down the steps to ground level. “Now, what makes you say that? I’m being generous. I’ve set my terms.” He is now nose-to-nose with the man attached to you.

“Now meet them or face the consequences.”

The hand holding yours is now pooled with sweat. You quickly and subtly jerk the arm of your beloved when he starts to protest, not recognizing a gift when he sees one. You bow, the picture of poise and grace that you were raised to be. There is still time to leave with all of your limbs intact, you could not afford to slip up now.

“We offer our most sincere gratitude, my Lord na-Baron. Thank you for this most auspicious opportunity. We will not squander it.”

Your beloved gives a clumsy bow to match yours. Feyd’s manic smile grows as he clasps his hands together. The sound echoes through the hall.

“So it shall begin!”

But all alone his blood runs thin

And doubt—doubt comes in

The pair of you hold hands, side-by-side, at the entrance of the palace gates. A crowd has followed you to the edge, with onlookers from the outside spectating the unexpected appearance of a noble. Occurrences like this did not happen often, if ever.

“You heard the terms. The Lady must walk thirty steps behind. She must not speak to you.” Your hands reluctantly separate, following the orders you were given. You can feel your heart pounding with each step that you take away from each other.

“Some of my guard will accompany you, to ensure that you comply to the letter.” Four Harkonnen warriors step forward and encase you in a square formation, leaving the love of your life alone and vulnerable. He looks back towards you, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes. You nodded at him, believing that you could succeed in your task. That you would prevail.

“You may begin.” Feyd voices, and with that—you start your journey. Step by step, you walk further through the foliage that immediately surrounds the castle gates and into the city square.

Once you and your beloved reach the horizon, Feyd turns to walk past the crowd and back into the corridor.

Your father, the Duke, bows quickly and offers his gratitude, but is ignored as the younger Harkonnen goes to gather his blade and shield. With a yell, he summons his guards to formation. As Feyd checks the integrity of his weapon, one of the Baron’s advisors tentatively steps towards him.

“My Lord, perhaps you should consider letting them go—” In the blink of an eye, the man is silenced with a swift slash to the throat. Blood spills through the advisor’s hands as he struggles to put pressure on the opening. His body flops to the floor and Feyd carelessly steps over the writhing body to march forward.

“Let’s go fetch my bride.”

Dangerous this jack of hearts

It had been almost an hour of walking by this point. There had been almost a dozen times where you wanted to give any audible indication to your lover that you were here. A whisper, a whistle, a stomp of your foot. Anything. But now you could see the edge of the city, you could almost taste it.

A life with your love was within reach.

The guards accompanying you shifted inward, almost boxing you in. You were hopeful, but nerves were creeping in.

This was going well. Too well.

The grand arch signifying the edge of the city was above your lover now. The field that you used to meet at in secret lay just beyond it. You’re almost there. Just twenty more steps and you could be together, forever.

He steps over the threshold, you see his shoulders lift and fall in an exhale. Then, the man you had fallen in love with— who you wholly believe in— slowly turns his head to lock eyes with you. A pale figure steps out from behind a pillar accompanying the arch.

The growing smile on your face immediately falls. You call out his name.

Oh no.

The na-Baron tsked and shook his head, as if scolding a child. Harkonnen troops flanked the area, giving Feyd-Rautha enough berth to have his fun. The three of you were surrounded, but only one really had the advantage.

“You were so close!”

Your beloved held out a hand, “Wait, wait! I made it over!” He started to back away in fear, unarmed and exhausted from the long walk. Colorful, ripe foliage brushed his legs as he back into your field.

“Ah, but she didn’t. So, face the consequences.”

Then his blade pierced the man you love.

Your ears started to ring, throat working itself raw as you wailed. Tears blurred your vision, you could hear the gurgles of the blood leaving your fiancé’s mouth and the slosh of his newly disemboweled entrails hitting the lush field before you.

With his kiss, the riot starts

His body made a sick thud on the floor, and your body jumped along with it.

You ran towards your dead lover, cradling his face and sobbing for the soul that was just ripped away from you. He didn’t deserve such a violent end. His only crime was loving you and being loved in return.

A chuckle sounded from above you, and you turned your tear-stained face to the brutal Harkonnen. He was covered in the blood of your lover, his spoils of war staining his pale skin. Black teeth on full display, his shoulders gave a slight shake as he expressed his humor. His laughter sparked a rage in you like you’d never seen before. It didn’t matter what bonds you may or may not have formed over the conversations you had the last week. He’s a monster. He needs to pay for what he’s done.

Red flooded your vision.

With a roar, you lunged for the man. His laugh grew more manic as you smacked, punched, kicked, and hit every visible part of him that you could identify. In your grief, every ounce of training that you received flew out the window. He took every blow with a smile, as if he enjoyed the punishment you were attempting to bestow on him.

“There we go, my darling. Show me your pain. Your rage!”

Your mind started to clear with the more hits you landed. With a quick swipe, you had the weapon that killed your beloved against the naBaron’s neck. The Harkonnen soldiers immediately stepped forward, but Feyd stopped them with a wave of his arm.

“Ah ah ah! Leave her be.” His grin almost split his face in half, specks of dried blood making a painting of his face.

“Do it. Go ahead, come on.”

He pressed his neck forward, purposefully putting pressure on his own blade. Fresh blood started to trickle down his neck, adding to the gallons already spread all over his uniform.

The shock of his willingness to put his life on the line made you hesitate, which made him cackle in your face. Your anger made you draw the blade back and slice it across his chest. A groan left Feyd’s mouth,

“Good girl.”

An unexpected thunk to the head made your vision start to spin. Feyd’s arms braced around you, slowly lowering you to your knees and down to a lying position. He cradled your head as if you were a precious commodity, when he leaned forward and captured your limp lips with his.

As black started swallowing your vision, you heard him say,

“Don’t worry, my darling bride. It’ll all be alright. You won’t feel a thing.”

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angelicyoongie · 3 months

Text

lovesick (XIV)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 5.8k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous - Next

"Darling."

You glance up at Namjoon, abandoning the half-finished scarf you've been slowly unraveling for the last hour. He stands at the foot of the couch, glasses slipping down his nose as he struggles to hold on to all of the books piled up in his arms.

You jump out of your seat to help him, grabbing half of the stack to place it on the table next to you with a small huff.

The books are thick and heavy, and you doubt that any of the volumes are under five hundred pages. Most of the spines in Namjoon's arms look old and weathered, like their proper place should be under a glass case in a museum instead of a library.

Namjoon breathes out a sigh of relief as he carefully deposits the rest of the books next to the others. He nudges his glasses back in place with a small chuckle as he says, "I must be getting out of shape, I don't remember them being this heavy."

"I doubt it," You mutter, sneaking a quick look at how visible Namjoon's muscles are even under his thick sweater.

"What did you say, darling? I didn't catch it," Namjoon gives you a curious look.

"Ah, it's nothing!" You flash him a quick smile, swiftly shifting your focus back to the table.

Namjoon furrows his brows at the way you suddenly avert your eyes, the tops of your cheeks growing warm. He glances down at his sweater, worried that he might have missed a stain. There's nothing that looks out of the ordinary, but Namjoon still dusts off the bright red wool for good measure, a little perplexed by the strange look you were giving him.

"I brought the books you asked for, this is everything we had on soulmates and soulbonds," Namjoon clears his throat. He steps closer to the table, picking up a few of the books before he starts sorting them into smaller piles, "These are the most recent publications and the ones furthest to the right are the oldest ones. I found a couple down in the archives too. They're not supposed to leave the library since they're so old but, well, I'm sure no one would mind a little exception. I know you'll take good care of them."

"I'll be careful," You nod, brushing a finger over the spine of what looks to be the oldest book.

"Good," Namjoon flashes you a warm grin, his dimples on show. He reaches out to stroke your hair, tucking a lock behind your ears as he gently says, "I hope they can be a nice distraction for you. I know you've been feeling down since you talked to Heejun."

"Thank you," You give him a tight smile, refusing to comment on it. You know it annoys them that you're not willing to open up more, that you don't want to talk about your emotions, but what's the use in bringing up something they won't understand? They are the ones making you sad, not Heejun.

It's been a week since you last spoke to him, and your heart still aches from it. Hearing his voice felt like splitting open a barely closed wound. You can't shake off how mournful he sounded when he said his goodbyes, like he knew you wouldn't be able to contact him again for quite some time. It has left you feeling unsettled. And, since your days are filled with nothing; you have more than enough time to think, think, and think some more. You sometimes wonder if cabin fever will take you out before the soulbond does.

It feels like time barely passes here and yet you know that the sun rises and sets, that the minutes are steadily ticking away even if you feel frozen. Using your phone finally gave you an opportunity to pinpoint the date. The day you talked to Heejun was December 11th and now that one week has already passed, there are only seven days left until Christmas. It's odd to think back to how you celebrated the holidays last year, and how different your life was then. You knew of your soulmates but you didn't know them. You were scared but you were free.

You shake yourself loose from your thoughts as Namjoon presses a soft kiss to your cheek, catching the tail end of his sentence as he says, "– for you, just call for me if you need any help, darling."

"Great, I'll do that," You say. Namjoon doesn't seem to have noticed your wavering attention.

You can only assume he mentioned he would leave you to read in peace, as he gives you another warm smile before he straightens up and exits the room. You hear him greet Hoseok in the kitchen, their voices just distant enough that you can't pick up on what they're talking about.

Taking a deep breath, you try to empty your mind to focus on the task at hand. You did ask Namjoon for these books for a reason, so you must utilize the time you have. Namjoon seems to have borrowed the entire section the library has on soulmate-related books, so it's only a matter of time before someone comes asking for them.

You decide you might as well begin with the newer books first, they should hopefully contain all the information and studies that have been done on the bond over the last three hundred years or so. You grab one that looks somewhat familiar to you, a newer edition of a volume you're sure you did a paper on back in middle school. Skimming through it, you quickly skip to the section that talks more in-depth about bonds. You already know all of the basics, the history, the tale of the first two soulmates – it's practically ingrained into you from birth. What you need is something different, something uncommon in the sea of familiar facts.

You're disappointed when you realize that the book barely touches upon soulbonds with more than two people. Having two or more soulmates isn't that uncommon but it's also not the norm. The most you've ever heard of was a group of five soulmates and they were treated as a media spectacle from the moment they announced it. You remember the headlines reading along the lines of rare, strange and unprecedented – so you can only imagine that if there are more groups like them out there, they're keeping quiet about it. The soulmates that did choose to step forward about their bond were insistent that it was the same as a bond between two people; they all loved each other and their connection was equally as strong for every soulmate. Their situation was clearly very different from yours.

You close the book with a huff, moving on to the next one. There's a brief mention that soulbonds with more than two soulmates require a bit more work, but that's all. It's barely enough to fill a sentence. Your frustration only grows with every book you look through, it's just the same information regurgitated over and over. You know there's something out there though, the story Namjoon told you shortly after you had woken up at the cabin must come from somewhere. Namjoon might have found the excerpt online but you do recall that it was supposedly from an old and rather obscure book.

Your gaze drifts over to the book that looks like it's falling apart at the seams, the etching on the cover so old that the letters have been lost to time. You find yourself holding your breath as you gingerly pick it out of the pile, wincing as you feel the pages shift within the book. There's a small note attached to the front of it, one that reads: NO PUBLIC ACCESS. For a split second it makes you pause, thoughts that it might actually be a valuable book crossing your mind, but you quickly disregard them. If this book was important, it would've never been left to rot in the library archive.

Carefully placing it in front of you, you open the front of the book slowly, mindful to prop it up with your hand so that you're not causing too much tension to the spine. The insides look as tattered as the front, the title page barely legible. The font is cursive and swooping, the letters blending together so well it's hard to make out much of it. In the end, all you can decipher is that it says soulmates and that it was written in the year 1783.

You turn the page, squinting at the faded words. The layout of it reminds you more of a diary than a book, with random dates placed before every entry. They explain how the author decided to travel around to gather stories about soulmates, soulbonds and the people they met along the way. After some twenty-odd pages, you finally come across what looks to be a table of contents. Tracing your finger down the side, you halt as you make out the words nucleus bonds.

Bingo.

You feel your pulse kick up a beat as you flip to the correct page. The title reads 'Highly unusual cases of soulbonds and soulmates' and you can tell from the first sentence that this must be the excerpt Namjoon had found online.

It describes just what Namjoon talked about; that while there's always a risk of one soulmate feeling the bond more intensely than the other, the probability of it happening is heightened the bigger the bond is. Skewed bonds are typically seen in groups of four or more soulmates, as it is likely that one soulmate in particular becomes the nucleus of the bond – the center that holds it all together. The book goes on to mention examples, old cases of nucleus bonds you've never heard of. They seem more like fables than true stories, all of them more fantastical than the last, but it does seem that Namjoon was right. In the olden days, nucleus bonds were viewed as a gift bestowed upon them from the heavens. That the ones that found themselves experiencing it were special – powerful.

"What a fucking joke," You sigh.

The only thing this bond has made you feel is helpless.

There's a small paragraph at the end of the page, one you suspect wasn't included on the digital scan Namjoon found.

While powerful, nucleus bonds can quickly go awry if the proper precautions are not taken to ensure the bond's well-being. For ill effects of the bond, please see the entry on Lovesickness.

You feel your mouth go dry, a heavy pit settling in your stomach. This must be it. You can't help the slight tremble to your fingers as you flip to the correct page, unease and excitement blending into a confusing feeling. You desperately want to know what's going on, if there's something that's causing the boys to act the way that they are, but the title worries you. Not all illnesses can be cured. You've survived on the small hope that you might be able to help them but if that gets taken away, what will you have left?

You chew on the inside of your cheek, nervous, as you land on the right entry.

// Lovesickness Lovesickness, or soul sickness, occurs when the bond between two or more soulmates is neglected. This illness has only been recorded in bonds with a nucleus soulmate and is thus regarded as a prominent ill effect. While skewed bonds may occur in any soulbond, it is even more likely to do so in instances where one soulmate is viewed as the nucleus. It is a dangerous soulbond, as it makes the other soulmates unstable and there is an especially high risk that they will crave closeness with the nucleus to make up for the weakened connection to the rest of their soul-group. The other soulmates or "the outsiders", are known to grow irrational, obsessive, angry, highly emotional, and in some extreme cases, they can even be influenced by other outsiders' emotions despite their weakened bond. After first contact is made, it is imperative that the affected soulmates spend time together to minimize the risk of soul sickness. Failing to do so will have grave consequences. //

"Oh gods," You whisper, staring at the book in mild horror.

If what the book is saying is correct, then that means that everything that has happened over the last year isn't completely their fault.

The soulbond must have started slowly poisoning their minds ever since they met years ago. They didn't even know they were soulmates back then, not until that night in Hoseok's shop, so you can't imagine they have been able to nurture the bond properly. Their connection was so weak they probably mistook it as simply wanting to become friends and even though you know they're all close, you also know that their schedules are so conflicting that it's impossible for all of them to hang out as much as they should have. The bond was practically doomed even before they met you.

It makes sense that they all came together before you did, that perhaps there was a part of them that couldn't seek the nucleus out before they had collected the rest of the group. The sickness must've become even worse once they did find you – festering and growing stronger the longer they tried to stay away. You wonder if it was the bond that made them keep their distance back then. If their souls recognized that your connection to them was weaker than it was supposed to be, maybe that's part of what made them so scared to approach you. Regardless, it had likely reached a critical point when they decided to kidnap you, their souls so affected, so warped, by the illness that they had no other choice.

All of this – everything that has happened – has been out of their control. How were they supposed to fight an illness they didn't know they had?

You cover your face with both hands, muffling your choked breaths. You feel lost in a way you haven't before. Their actions are still not excused, you can't find it in yourself to forgive them for all the hurt and trauma they've caused you. But you can understand why they ended up going down the path they did now, because, well, it turns out they didn't have much of a choice at all.

There's no right answer here and you're finding yourself at a loss of what to do. You doubt that telling them about it will change anything, not when they're this far gone already. They'll probably just look at it as you trying to distance yourself from them again.

You drag your fingers down your face with a low groan, glancing down at the book. The entry on lovesickness doesn't go past the page and you can't find any additional information that describes what you should do if something like this has already occurred; just that it's important to make sure that the bond doesn't get messed up in the first place. With the book being so old, well over two hundred years, it's not like you can reach out to the author for help either. But there must be something you can do.

Thrumming your fingers against the table, you shift your focus towards the kitchen, to the soft sound of Hoseok's laughter. Now that you think about it, the boys have become more trusting, more mellow, over the past months. They have started leaving you alone for longer periods of time and they have calmed down significantly compared to when they first brought you here. Perhaps.. If your distance is what worsened their illness, maybe this – being close – is what is going to cure them? You doubt it can ever bring them back to normal, whatever that may be, but it could help stabilize them.

If you try, really try, to accept them for what they are now and return their affection, it might help the bond settle faster.

You give yourself a weak nod, closing the book as you push yourself up on your feet. You don't like thinking about affection, love, as just a means to an end, but it's not like the situation you're in is normal. You're willing to do anything if it'll get you out of here, and in the end, you're doing this to help both yourself and them. You might have tried to deny it this whole time but it doesn't change the fact that they're still your soulmates. As awful as it is, you have some responsibility over them too.

You ignore the queasy feeling lingering in your stomach, shaking out your limbs before you muster up the most genuine smile you can. You just have to try.

"Hey guys," You call out, crossing the common room to go join Hoseok and Namjoon in the kitchen, "What are you up to?"

Soft sunlight streams in through the windows, warming your feet just so as you stand in one of the illuminated patches on the floor. There's activity from every corner of the cabin, Sundays being the only day all of them are able to gather at the same time. It's been four days since you realized just how messed up your bond is and you've been trying your best to stop pushing the boys away since then.

You look wistfully out of the window, the white snow sparkling under the sun. You haven't really been much outside since you tried to escape, their trust in you is too broken to allow you to. The most you've done is stand on top of the stairs with the door open; Namjoon waiting a few steps down in case you should be stupid enough to try to run, and Seokjin behind you, holding on to one of your hands.

You miss being able to walk around and move your body more, and you truly are beginning to go a little stir-crazy.

"Hi baby," Jimin croons as he wraps his arms around your waist, gluing himself against your back, "What are you thinking about?"

You lean into Jimin's hold, your heart quickening at the kiss he plants at the back of your neck. You let out a small sigh as you confess, "I'm bored."

"Bored, hm? Anything in particular you'd like to do? I can think of a few ways to waste time."

You can hear the smirk in Jimin's voice, heat rising to your cheeks as you remember the night you spent together.

"Actually–" You pause, bracing yourself for a negative reaction before you say, "I'd like to do something outside today. The weather is so nice."

Jimin's arms tighten around you like a snake, so tense you worry they might pop right off his body. "Outside?" He echoes.

"What's outside?" Hoseok seems to have abandoned whatever he was doing earlier in his room, his sudden appearance startling you slightly.

"Y/n was just telling me that she's bored and that she wants to do something. Outside," Jimin fills him in, voice void of any emotion.

Hoseok is silent as he walks across the room, meeting your gaze with raised eyebrows as you turn to look at him. He doesn't look away until he's standing next to you and Jimin, his eyes briefly flickering down to the death grip the younger has on you before they fly back to your face. "Why would you want that, sunshine?"

It's not an immediate no – so you jump on the chance to play it up a little and use it to your advantage.

"I just want to hang out with you guys outside, maybe do something fun. I just thought it would be nice to do something, you know, together," You pout. The sparkling snow in your peripheral gives you an idea. "Maybe a snowball fight?"

Hoseok shares a look with Jimin over your shoulder, one that's long enough to almost make you nervous. Jimin eventually relaxes when Hoseok gives him a nod. It's hard to tell what's going through his head but surprisingly, Hoseok doesn't seem too put off by the idea. Maybe they really have begun to trust you again, or maybe this is just another test. Either way, it's something you can make use of.

Hoseok reaches out to touch your cheek, his lips curving into a heart-shaped smile as he says, "That sounds like a good idea, sunshine. I'll go ask the others if they want to join."

"I call dibs on being on Y/n's team," Jimin says, smug.

Hoseok's smile grows a little more dangerous as he moves his attention back to Jimin, "We'll see about that, Jiminie."

You grunt as Seokjin tugs firmly on your jacket, sending you a step forward.

You're wearing so many layers you can barely move, all of them too big. The boys took great joy in dressing you up in their winter clothes, as nothing you have at the cabin is fit for withstanding the cold. You're glad you don't have to freeze, but the fact that everything you're wearing is too big doesn't evade you. They must still be worried about you trying to run away if they're trying to impede your ability to move.

You know not to make a fuss about it though, it's better to just go along with their whims when it's something so harmless.

"Watch your chin," Seokjin warns before he drags the zipper up, sealing you in.

"Thanks," You say, nodding for good measure. Your voice is so muffled behind Jungkook's thick scarf that you can barely hear your own voice.

Seokjin flashes you a grin, gesturing to the door. "Go on then, sweetheart. You're going to overheat if you stay inside here for too long."

You waddle over to the door, practically dragging your feet with how heavy the boots you borrowed from Namjoon are. You can hear the others talking outside, only Seokjin left behind as he volunteered to help you get everything on. You're admittedly glad you didn't just brush him off because there's no way you would be able to bend down with how thick your jacket and snow pants are.

A burst of biting cold air hits you as you open the door. It takes you a moment to get used to the temperature difference but once you do, you shuffle down the stairs as quickly as you can manage. Hearing the snow crunch under your boots and feeling the sun warm the little skin you have exposed makes your heart swell. You finally feel alive again.

"Y/n, there you are!" Taehyung throws the half-formed snowball in his hands to the ground, waving you over to where the rest of them are busy shoveling snow. The boys have already managed to clear a decent-sized patch, patting the shoveled snow into two barriers on the opposite sides of the cleared ground. Jungkook and Yoongi have even had time to start making two piles of snowballs, stacking up a good amount of them.

Taehyung is sporting a wide smile by the time you make it over, his eyes twinkling as he opens his mouth.

"Don't say anything," You cut him off, huffing from the restrictive layers. Taehyung holds up his hands in surrender, chuckling as you try (and fail) to cross your arms.

"I wasn't going to," He looks you up and down once, biting down on his lip to stifle his laughter. "But if I was, I'd say you look like a cute marshmallow."

You groan. "This is way too much! I can barely move."

"It's just to keep you warm, babe. We don't want you getting sick," Taehyung bops your nose with his glove. "Your team will cover you during the fight anyway, you won't have to move around too much."

"Fine, if you say so," You murmur, not entirely convinced. You know all of the boys, especially Jungkook, have a competitive streak, so you doubt it's going to be as easy as Taehyung makes it seem.

"Seokjin hyung!" Taehyung calls out as he looks over your shoulder, "Hurry up! We need to divide the teams!"

It's quickly decided that the best way to do so is by playing Rock-Paper-Scissors. It takes a few rounds to get it right but in the end, you're teamed up with Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon, while the other four make up the opposing team.

"My poor angel, I can't believe she's been doomed to be on the losing team," Jimin sighs, all dramatic. He shoots Seokjin a teasing smile, like he just knows his hyung won't be able to resist rising to the bait.

"Losing team?!" Seokjin exclaims, just as predicted, poking his finger into Jimin's chest, "How are you expecting to win? You and Yoongi are too short to even look over the barrier!"

"Hey! Don't drag me into this," Yoongi pouts, swatting Seokjin's hand away from Jimin. "Let's just start the game. Namjoon, what are the rules?"

Namjoon claps his hands together, gathering everyone's attention. "Alright, so the rules are very simple. You're allowed to run up to the line that goes through the middle of the cleared area. That means that some of the trees around here can be used for cover as long as you don't cross the line. If you're hit, you're out and have to wait off to the side for the game to end. One team wins when all the players on the opposite team are eliminated. Yoongi hyung and Jungkook have already made a pile of snowballs for each team, but we'll get exactly one minute before the game starts to make as many additional ones as possible."

"Everyone got it?" He asks, looking around the group. You all chime out yes, watching as Namjoon pulls out his phone and sets the timer to 60 seconds.

"Okay, as soon as I hit this, the game starts! Three, two, one– Go!"

You hurry as best you can over to the closest barrier, letting Hoseok drag you along to give you some extra speed. He helps you kneel once you reach it, looking over at Seokjin and Namjoon as he asks, "Okay, so what's our plan? We can't let sunshine get hit."

"They have Jungkook, so they're going to go in for an intense attack right away. I think our best bet is to just wait until they start slowing down and then attack back. Jimin is probably going to try to sneak closer to the line once it dies down from their side, so let's try to take him out quickly," Namjoon says, keeping his voice low enough that it won't carry over to the other team.

"Sounds good," Seokjin hums. He hastily forms another snowball, adding it to the growing pile beside you.

"I think you better try to stay out of the way as much as possible, darling, they can get pretty brutal," Namjoon adds, shooting you a worried look.

"That's probably for the best," You agree, slumping further down behind the barrier. There's no way you'll be able to play when you're this bundled up, you doubt you'll be able to duck in time if you even attempt to throw a snowball.

"Okay, then–" Namjoon's eyes go wide as the alarm on his phone rings out into the near quiet forest. He mutters a curse as he ducks down the best he can, fumbling to turn it off.

The moment it goes silent, mayhem breaks loose. Snowballs start raining down immediately, hitting the barrier with dull thuds. You squeak as one lands right in front of your knees, nearly hitting you. You quickly shuffle to the side, practically crawling, as you hear the other team yell and taunt yours to fight back.

Just as the attack begins to wind down, Namjoon gestures for the rest of you to lay low while he peeks over the edge.

He's hit in the shoulder before you can even blink, a burst of snow raining down on the rest of the team. Namjoon flashes you all a dumbfounded look as he stumbles back, reaching up to dust off the lingering snow as someone calls out 'You're out!' from the other side.

"They mean business," Namjoon mumbles, shaking his head as he hands his snowball over to Seokjin.

"We'll get revenge for you, Joonie," Hoseok's expression is somber, a little too serious for a snowball fight.

"They always get a little too into it, don't mind them," Seokjin whispers, pulling a face.

The moment Namjoon has safely left the area, the fight picks back up, Hoseok and Seokjin joining in on it. It doesn't take long before you hear an indignant cry coming from the other team, Seokjin yelling out a cheer at the direct hit he landed on Jimin.

You feel like a sitting duck behind the barrier, unable to help your team with how tightly you're bundled up. With the boys still distracted by the ongoing fight, you quickly unzip your jacket in your crouched position, throwing it to the side. Thanks to Seokjin going a little overboard with dressing you up, you already had another jacket underneath to keep you warm. You smile, already feeling a little lighter.

"Keep going, I'll cover your left," You murmur to Hoseok as you crawl behind him, your sight set on one of the closest trees. You ignore him as he hisses out your name, clearly confused as to why you're moving away from the barrier that's protecting you.

There's a decent gap between the edge of the barrier and the nearest tree, so you'll have to make a run for it and hope that you manage to catch the others off-guard enough that they won't be able to hit you. You take a deep breath as you bring yourself up to a crouch, placing your hands on the snow for extra support. You shoot off as fast as you can but the big snow pants slow you down significantly, almost reducing your speed to a leisurely stroll. You barely manage to duck behind the first tree, taking cover, when you hear a snowball explode against it.

"How could you aim for your soulmate?!" You hear Hoseok yell out.

"Uhm, all is fair in love and war?" Taehyung sheepishly calls back.

You huff, collecting yourself for a minute before you dare to peek around the tree. The coast seems to be clear, neither Jungkook nor Taehyung is looking your way. You can't spot Yoongi, so you can only assume he's ducked behind the barrier, making more snowballs to keep up with the tempo the two youngest are throwing them at.

It's now or never.

You use the tree to give yourself a needed push forward, running towards the much larger one that's square in the middle of the cleared area. You're so focused on making it there without getting hit from the side that it takes you a second too long to realize that someone is coming full speed right at you. You barely manage to slow down before you crash right into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling into each other. Yoongi grabs your waist to steady you just as you reach out for his shoulders, your eyes locked in surprise.

"You scared me," Yoongi wheezes, pulling you tighter against him as another snowball smacks into the tree.

"Sorry," You puff, "You caught me off-guard too."

You're both panting from the tiresome terrain, your breaths swirling up towards the sun. Yoongi's cheeks are rosy from the cold, the tip of his nose colored a precious pink. He looks so cute that you almost don't know what to do with yourself.

Your gloved hands find their way from Yoongi's shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them as you ask, "Are you cold?"

"I-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to reply before you hear Taehyung get hit, a chorus of groans and cheers sounding from the other side of the tree.

If Taehyung is out, that means that only Yoongi and Jungkook are left. You might not have been able to do much until now, but you'd be damned if you can't at least help take Yoongi out. It might be time to play dirty, even if what you're about to do makes you feel a little bad.

You swoop in to kiss Yoongi the moment you hear Taehyung being greeted by Jimin and Namjoon, pressing your cold lips to his in a chaste kiss. You feel him going pliant in your hands as your heart begins to race, your body burning hot despite the cold.

Yoongi has a starstruck look in his eyes when you lean back, one that quickly morphs into confusion as you yell out Hoseok's name before you duck. A snowball hits Yoongi square in the chest a second later, forcing him to take a step back.

"You– Seriously?" Yoongi shoots you a betrayed look as you get back to your feet.

"I'm sorry," You flash him an apologetic smile as you brush the snow away. "I think all of the competitiveness might have rubbed off on me."

"Please forgive me?" You murmur, planting another kiss on his lips, one that lingers a little longer.

"You're gonna be the death of me," Yoongi groans, shaking his head at the bright smile he gets in response. "Hurry back to your team, Y/n, you haven't won yet."

Jungkook might be a great player, but he's no match for 3 against 1. It barely takes a minute from the moment Yoongi joins the sidelines until Hoseok lands a hit on him, finally eliminating the entire opposing team. Jungkook looks stunned that he actually got hit, eyes wide as he touches his stomach. Jimin and Taehyung groan in unison, immediately beginning to bicker about what went wrong.

"Loser team my ass, Park Jimin!" Seokjin points to the sidelines with a wide grin, laughing as Jimin flips him off.

Hoseok wraps you up in a hug, swaying you from side to side as he laughs.

"We did it!" You squeal, wrapped up in a burst of happiness as Namjoon comes running over, the entire team huddling together as you celebrate your win.

"Well done, angel, I didn't know you were so sneaky," Seokjin chuckles, kissing your cheek.

"I think we might have found our secret weapon," Hoseok agrees, eying you fondly as he ruffles your hair.

You look over to the other team as you attempt to duck away from Hoseok's hand, your smile growing bigger as you notice the other boys laughing and joking around too. Jungkook seems to be mimicking Yoongi throwing a snowball that didn't go very far, causing Jimin to laugh so hard that he falls over.

Your heart swells at the scene, at finally seeing all of the boys act normal and happy. Maybe you actually can do this. Maybe it's not too late after all.

"Come on, let's bring it in!" Namjoon grins, grabbing your hand.

As you all jump around in a circle, arms tangled together and spirits high; all you can think of is that it feels nice – special, even – like something you could get used to.

a/n: what do we think about the new information the mc found – will it change anything?? and i hope you enjoyed some domestic time spent with the soulmates! (enjoy the good vibes while they last friends <3) i know i promised taegi last time but that has been pushed back to ch 15, so apologies for that, buuut you'll get taegi and namkook smut in one ch so i think that's a good deal, no? 🙈

please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter!! it means so much to me 💖 especially now that we're nearing the end of the story 🥺

(and you know the drill, please excuse any mistakes until i have time to go through and edit!)

#yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #yandere seokjin #yandere yoongi #yandere taehyung #yandere hoseok #yandere namjoon

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mellowwillowy · 4 months

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𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

Your lover is forced to work far away from you and they are just not having it! They should be breathing the same air as you and not be put far away! Alas, they don't have a choice but to finish this errand quick.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 is not having it. Being away from you for a long time for this silly field trip wannabe? Why must his loyal, mafia ass-shit client get himself into another trouble that requires him to work on-site, away from the house, away from you?

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will actually make a manual on handling every possibility that he could think of happening to you and hand it to his men and the maids working. What to do if Spouse doesn't want to eat? What to do if Spouse is suddenly sick? What to do if Spouse is throwing tantrum-

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 bets that anyone who upset Spouse while he was away will have their fingers removed, the number of fingers removed depends on how fatal their mistake was although he was positive that his and this annoying Mafia Ringleader's men are trained enough to prevent that from happening.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will get you some gifts, lots of gifts. Really, he's a simple man. Oh and if by chance you two manage to have children, they only get 1/10 what he gets for you. Cry about it, brats.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will turn all explosive toward anyone who slows down his work, your average angry demanding boss except that he doesn't explode with illogical bullshits. Might accidentally smack Kaspar (the client) once right in his face out of fuming anger.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 who will be all clingy (rare, very rare) once he gets home because dude. He was away for some time, looking at all these mf faces that were not even you. Give him lots of cuddles, and kisses and just treat him like a puppy for today because he will return to normal again the next day, IT'S YOUR ONLY CHANCE.

"Woah, you get a lot for me, dear. How about I share some with the kids?" (If you have it) "Sure, but I doubt they can use any of it." Yulian replies nonchalantly as he watches you unwrap everything. He is a menace for purposely picking up stuff the kids won't be able to use (haha!).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 gets all grumpy for it! Do they think it's fun having to trick you into allowing him to go on this shitty field trip? Ohhh come on now, you know he works as some sort of programmer or hacker, one that definitely doesn't need him to work ON SITE!!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will have to force both of your friends (and his) to take care of you. As much as you all are close to each other, he is not a fan of letting them watch you in his stead. Sure, this close friend of yours is used to taking care of you, you once lived with him after all.

But the jealousy factor of not being able to manage everything is still there! And his childhood friend, she might have a bad influence on you for the month he is away! Sure, your friend will not allow that but he's just skeptical of everyone! He doesn't trust anyone but him holding the leash to your coll- ekhem, watching you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will get all explosive, irrationally too. Not only toward people who slow his work down but to all his men. Trust me, it was hell for everyone. One wrong word and a punch will meet their face~

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will actually spare some time to get gifts for you and the others, of course, they only get a portion of what he gets for you. Will smile for once after a while at the thought of you unwrapping the presents eagerly and scare his men for a moment (Is boss finally losing it?)

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will try his best to come home unscratched. Work is tough, yes but seeing you chiding him in worry is tougher! The more bruised up he is, the harder it'll be for him to slip out like an eel next time!

"Are you seriously only giving us these after all the troubles we have, taking care of your little friend?!" "God, look at what he got for you, let's swap." "Nuh-uh, get lost, Lemon." Blue cackles at the sight of you beaming from the gifts he hand-picked for you. Ah right, the gifts for the others are picked by his men since he can't be bothered about it.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 is not a shady asshole like 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 so no field trip.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is rather indifferent about this. What can he do about this? Pass it and have people shoot him daggers from every angle for being irrational? Oh lol no, mon chèri. He values his life as much as he values yours.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will station all his men to keep you safe and give everyone notice of 'whoever fucks up will have their head hung'. Effective enough to ensure the maids from doing anything dumb to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is not as wary as Yulian but he is also not a lenient one as well. You get what the others get. Fuck around while he's away and find out what he has in store for you. Definitely not a pleasant one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will surprisingly get something for you though just one. Quality over quantity, he'll quote. He was just too busy and unbothered to get something for you out of no occasion going on. Besides, he could just get you some when he is more relaxed and not so on guard like this. Wouldn't want to get all bruised up or even dead just because he is in a hunt for presents!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is as normal as usual. No explosive behavior, this is his 'daily' work. He's used to being away from you and he is used to being absent from your presence. (Bro literally wait for you to awaken from your coma).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will smile at the sight of you unwrapping the said gift. He is content enough to see you awake and reacting to his gift, either with a scowl or a smile, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you are awake to see what he has bought for you.

"You know, I've always wished you could at least wake up and see the mountain of gifts I had prepared for you. But then I realized, no mountain of surprises would ever wake you up so I dusted it all down as a log of firewood." "You are just making up that story so that I will feel romantic about being given just a TRINKET?" 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 looks away from you comically while you shake him hard. That said, he means every word of it. (Angst baby)

Note: I am rolling, why is everyone here so petty? Yulian to his (if he has) kids, Blue to Lemon and Grape while Eleanor just 👨🏻‍🦯

#Yandere x Reader #Yandere Scenarios #Yulian the Corruption #Eleanor the Finale #Seth the Resistance #Blue the Boyfriend #LIfE Project #Yandere OC #Yandere Writing #X GN Reader

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fromforeigntofamiliarity · 8 months

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Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen

Request: Yes

Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.

Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault

Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist

You couldn't believe it.

He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you.

This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand.

He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.

Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.

This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.

No.

"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow.

"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards.

Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together.

His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you.

She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her.

"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."

"I know this must be upsetti-."

"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial.

"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child." Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.

"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air.

"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force.

"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband" You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.

"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent."

"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband."

Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again.

"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child.

"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."

another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.

"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry.

Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son.

***

It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys.

Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them."

"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives."

"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."

"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.

"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."

"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children."

"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."

"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."

Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it.

"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.

"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you."

Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort.

"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.

Part Two

#house of the dragon imagine #House of the dragon #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #aemond x reader #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Alys rivers #aemond x alys #house targaryen #king viserys #jacerys targaryen #lucerys targaryen #harrenhal

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Note

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” With Bucky Barnes 😍😍

Such a fun prompt, lovely! How about CEO!Bucky?

Use Your Words

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky will give you what you need as long as you use your words. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, established relationship, pet name (princess), slight D/s vibes, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I don't know why this screamed CEO to me, but here we are. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed a sigh as Bucky finally hung up the phone. He glanced at you with a small smile, the corner of his lips curling more when you narrowed your eyes. The love of your life was a busy man and you respected that. But if he took one more call, you’d throw his phone out the window. You didn’t care. He had more than enough money to buy a new one.

And you had been waiting for him on your knees, naked, for at least ten minutes.

“About time,” you muttered.

Your throat went dry as Bucky walked toward you. He stopped two feet away and from the angle reminded you just how much he was built like a brick house. The white dress shirt pulled taut over his wide chest, accentuated by his broad shoulders, and pants that hugged his massive thighs built for riding, the sight made you want to climb him and take his cock until he destroyed you. He ran a hand along his chiseled jaw and, from the mischievous look in his steel eyes, he drew attention to it on purpose.

You'd bite his chin later once you had the chance.

“Aww, princess,” he said in an almost mocking tone, his eyes sparkling again with laughter when you continued to glare. He loved riling you up. “If you want something, you have to use your words,” he told you, taking one step closer.

Like everyone else in Bucky’s life, he towered over you from his position. It would've terrified anyone else, but not you. No one else got to call themself Bucky’s princess and you would fight anyone who tried.

He was yours as much as you were his.

“I want you to put your cock in my mouth,” you said sweetly as you crawled closer to his feet, swaying your hips and watching his gaze fall to your breasts once you sat back on your knees again. “I want you to fuck my throat before you fuck my wet pussy.”

“Such a slut for me,” he said with a hint of affection he didn't dare show anyone else. He brushed a finger along your lips and your mouth fell open obediently. With a happy hum you sucked the digit into your mouth, happy that he put something there. “What makes you think you've earned my cock?”

The pout on your face didn't sway him as he took his finger out, but you caught the swift intake of breath when you ran his hands up his thighs. No one got to him the way you did. It was a heady feeling to know he gave you that kind of power. It was a gift you wouldn’t abuse.

But using it occasionally to your advantage wouldn't harm anyone.

“Because I've been good. You worked all day and I didn't bother you or tease you once. I didn’t even whine or complain when you took that call. I think that deserves a reward,” you answered, unbuckling his belt. You didn't move any further since he was still in charge. Or so he thought. “And don't you deserve a reward, too? Don't you deserve to use my holes?”

Reaching between your thighs, you watched his eyes darken when you gathered some of your wetness to show him. “That's my pussy you're touching,” he said.

“Mmm. So it is,” you smirked at the rustling of fabric and sound of him lowering his zipper. The sight of his hard cock springing free seconds later made your clit throb. You needed some relief, but he would reward you later for being good. “And your pussy is wet and ready whenever you're ready, Sir,” you promised, smearing your slickness along his cock from base to tip.

He taught you to appreciate the taste of yourself, but it was better when mixed with his.

And he rewarded you with a groan when you gave him a kittenish lick. “Show me first with your mouth how much you want me to fuck you,” he ordered.

You leaned forward to take him in just how he liked it. You started with the head, swirling your tongue gently around it with a moan. The drop of precum on your tongue had you greedy for more and it didn't take long for you to take in more of his cock, relaxing your throat so he could slide in. Being full of him was one of the best feelings in the world.

“Fuck, princess, that's it,” he rumbled as you slowly bobbed your head. Your head spun a little when he pushed himself further down your throat and groaned. You could take every inch.

The smile he gave you when you hollowed out your cheeks looked a little like love. The whine you let out when he hit the back of your throat said that you loved him, too. You loved him when he used you or when he treated you with such care. You loved that you belonged to each other.

He called you his princess, but you were truly his queen.

“And such a good girl for telling me what you need,” he grunted as he sped up his thrusts, your eyes burning with tears at his harsh movements. It wouldn’t be long until he came down your throat and your pussy clenched at the thought. You’d accept it all. “Keep sucking, princess. That’s it. Doing so well for me.”

He twitched on your tongue when you whined and moved faster, determined to make him feel good. When your hand moved up to cup his balls, it was all it took to tip him over the edge. With a growl, he spilled into your mouth. He gasped when you suddenly pulled off his cock and opened your mouth wider, showing him the load on your tongue.

You swore his cock twitched again when you shut your mouth to swallow it all down.

“Trying to kill me, princess,” he exhaled, tenderly holding your chin so you could look up at him. You smiled sweetly when his blue eyes locked with yours, proud of yourself when he continued to pant. Yeah, you got to him. No one else would ever compare. “Still need me to fuck my pussy?”

“Yes, Sir,” you rasped, your throat a bit sore in the best way. “Please, fuck me.”

He surprised you by joining you on your knees, keeping a hold of your chin to kiss you. He licked into your mouth, making you mewl from both the urgency and tenderness. “I’ll fuck you,” he breathed against your lips. “I'll always give you what you need.”

You knew he would. Bucky would always take care of you. All you had to do was use your words.

What do we think of CEO!Bucky? Yes? No? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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daydreamingqueen1 · 5 months

Note

spencer gifting reader w lingerie for the first time and being all flustered giving it to her???

Lingerie

hi, love, thank you so much for the request, sorry it took so longg <3 Congrats on being my first request btw

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, suggestive, reader in her underwear, nothing explicit, no y/n.

Word count: 1.3k

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"It's creepy right? Who does this? Why did I buy it?!"

Spencer had been home for about fifteen minutes before he went and hid inside the bedroom. It took you another twenty before you ventured into the hallway quietly and heard him talking to himself in progressively more panicked whispers.

This was not normal but maybe it had been a bad case. However, when that happened, he was usually inclined to cling to you in silence until everything felt a bit less, not hide away.

This is not it.

"God, I'm a pervert!"

Okay, that's enough. You need to intervene. You give a few overtly loud steps to warn him of your presence.

Spencer is pacing the room back and forth, a black bag in his hand. He flies to hide the bag behind his back the moment you walk in, a blush spreading through his cheeks.

"Spencer? What's going on?" You ask cautiously.

He gives you a reassuring smile, a poor attempt at one at least, "Nothing! Nothing, everything is completely fine."

You arch your eyebrow, "Really?"

Spencer presses his lips together in a line and nods way too quickly.

You sigh, torn between amusement and slight concern, "You know you are the profiler of the two of us, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then you shouldn't be this bad at hiding something, Spencer." Your deadpan look only manages to turn him redder.

Staring back at you guiltily, he gulps. "I– I'm sorry, sweetheart."

You give a few tentative steps closer to him, your expression turning more worried by the second, "What's wrong, Spence? Did something happen?"

He's quick to shake his head and reassure you, "No, no, nothing like that, everyone's fine."

You exhale a relieved breath.

"It's just... silly." Spencer finishes, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

Closing the distance between you two, your hand comes to rest over his chest, "It's okay, you deal with my silly all the time," you give him a small encouraging smile, "What does the pretty doctor have in between hands?"

"I–" he hesitates again before sighing and mumbling like a child, "I bought you something."

"Oh?" you truly didn't expect that answer, surprise flooding your features, "Why are you so flustered then? Can I see it?"

The crimson color returns to his cheek and you think he's a second away from bolting out from the room. He hangs his head in defeat and finally relents, revealing the mysterious black bag from behind his back.

Giving him a quizzical look, you take it in your hands. You're almost apprehensive as you pull out the silk paper from the top and discover a small nondescript box inside. The cardboard feels expensive against your hands, you shoot your nervous boyfriend another glance before finally opening it.

"Oh."

Silence fills the room for the next few seconds. You're about to open your mouth when—

"I'm sorry!" Spencer's nervous energy snaps and he starts babbling out an apology, "You don't have to wear it. I shouldn't have bought it without asking you first. I– I can't return it but we can just toss it and forget about it. I'm sorry, really, please don't think that I'm a creep."

You can't help it, you laugh at his frantic response, "Calm down, Spencer, you're not a creep. I love it."

Spencer seems about to go off into another lengthy apology before your words register on his brain.

"...What?"

"I love it." You smile genuinely at him before looking down at the contents of the box. Inside rests a set of lovely purple lace lingerie. Your hand reaches for the material and your smile widens even more at the luxurious feel of the fabric.

You launch yourself to hug him, "Thank you!"

"You're not mad?" He asks as if he was expecting you would slap him rather than hug him. You feel the heat of his flushed cheeks against you.

"Why would I?" You take the garments between your fingers and appreciate them closely. Taking pity on his nerves, you give his shoulder a comforting squeeze, "You're allowed to buy sexy underwear you want to see your girlfriend in, Spencer."

"Am I?" he says incredulously.

"Yes," You respond, chuckling and then grinning excitedly, "I'll go try it on!"

His eyes widen comically and before he can say anything else you run with your new set to lock yourself inside the bathroom.

You shed your clothes and put on the lacey bra and matching panties, critically observing your reflection on the mirror. It's a really pretty set. The lace feels soft and expensive against your skin, Spencer must have spent a considerable amount on it.

The lingerie set it's not even that risqué to have put Spencer at the edge of a panic attack, you think to yourself with amusement, you've seen more provocative stuff in department stores.

Trutfully, it's perfect. The bra hugs your breasts, pushing them up and leaving the top prettily displayed, the panties frame your bum flatteringly and cinch around your hips perfectly. Plus the color contrasts nicely with your skin tone, though you suspect that's not the reason why he chose it.

Giving one last appreciative glance to your figure, you fluff your hair before exiting the bathroom.

You find Spencer sitting on the side of the bed, playing with his hands like he always does whenever he's nervous. His head immediately snaps up at the creek of the door.

Gathering all your courage, you put on a show, walking through your room with an enticing sway of your hips, your eyes staring directly at him.

Humming the tune of that one sexy song, you give a slow and playful turn to let him take you all in. You stop when you are facing him again, your hands resting on your hips and your eyebrow raising expectantly, "Well? How do I look?"

Spencer is too stunned to speak, his mouth parted in a dumb expression of wonder. It gives you an incredible rush.

"Sweet heavens," he exhales, you don't think he knows he's saying it out loud.

Under his admiring gaze, you become suddenly shy, your hands crossing over your middle, not knowing how to deal with so much of his undivided attention. "Oh, um... it fits."

"It certainly does," Spencer whispers in that airy tone again, his fingers stretching towards you and delicately tracing the edge of the lace panties. Goosebumps erupt all over you.

"Didn't think you'd know my bra size," you comment, desperately trying to stop your heart from wildly beating inside your ribcage.

"I didn't," He pulls you closer and you fall onto his lap, your arms instinctively closing around his neck, "I calculated it based on my memories."

"So you've thought about me naked while you were buying it," you say, regaining some of your confidence.

That seems to pull him out of his indulgent trance, his ears turning a bit pink, "Well... yeah, but just because they said I couldn't return underwear and–"

You stop him before he flusters himself again, "I'm just teasing you, Spence. You are also allowed to think of your girlfriend naked."

He looks up at your face and his lips curl in an uncharacteristically smug smirk.

"Not now!" You exclaim chuckling and slapping his shoulder playfully, "I guess that eidetic memory can serve naughtier purposes."

Spencer huffs out a laugh and closes his arms around your waist, pecking your lips sweetly, "You liked your present then, sweetheart?"

"I do, it's lovely," You pretend to go for another kiss but instead push his chest, making him fall back on the mattress.

“Hey,” he protests weakly, looking up at you with adoring eyes.

You lean forward, caging his head between your arms, a coy smile forming on your face, “Let's give that wonderful brain of yours a fresh memory to relive, eh?”

Let's just say the lingerie set doesn't stay on for much longer after that.

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I'm shamelessly peaking my head in here again, sorry for taking so long without posting, life has been having fun kicking my ass but luckily I'm on vacation now so I'll be more active yaaay

♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

Requests are open!!

hope ya liked it, byebye

my masterlist

#spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid cm #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid comfort #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #daydreaming requests

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ironbatpaperturtle · 28 days

Text

THANK YOU FOR THE 10 FOLLOWERS, 7 OF WHICH ARE BOTS LMAOO.

The drawings look off but thats because my brush and color process dictates my artstyle LMAOO.

Now onto the event:

This is an AU wherein the Angels are a tad bit controllive. Luckily everyone that goes to haven haven't experienced this. Well everyone other than Adam. At first the Angels and Seraphims loved Adam. He was nice, loyal and dedicated to heaven and God.

But that was years ago, a millenia infact, they still loved him of course BUT that was until he started acting like a brat with a penchant to be as noisy as possible with the rock songs he plays. Oh well, nothing a little tweaking can't fix.

Angels are known for creating, why not include fixing?

So a meeting was held and the angels and seraphims all agreed to fix him. (Lets exclude my bestie Emily) An added bonus was that the father of humanity would be more dutiful and less . . . expressive. Not anymore.

So they planned to lure him in a place where the sinners have no authority to enter.

And proceeded to fix Adam.

Years later another meeting with Lucifer about the extermination was held and Lucifer was frustrated.

Not only was his relationship with his dear Char Char more unsteady than usual. He hasn't gotten laid in 6 years, 69 days and 3 minutes! (Y'know gone wife)

He now has to deal with a meeting with the first man. Long ago Lucifer would be thrilled, because teasing the man was so much fun. Sure Lucifer couldn't see his expression from the mask, but Adam yelling and creative insults was enough to calm and make Lucifer happy.

But that was 100 years ago, no WHY ARE COUNTING long ago, yeah.

It's like the man has 'matured'. He never gets mad or insults Lucifer, even when Lucifer would tease him. Even when Lucifer would boast about how he stole both of Adams wives, which usually gets a reaction, was replaced with silence that made Lucifer shift in his seat.

"Soo" Lucifer shifted in his seat, watching as Adam wrote something on the paper before sliding it too Lucifer. "Y'know we don't have to keep having meetings after an extermination"

Adam gave a quite hum, putting a thumb on his masked chin to emphasize his thinking, before putting it back down and shaking his head.

Even how he shakes his head looks practiced, Lucifer looked down on the written texts before summoning a fountain pen. A crown perched ontop, wrapped around it was what looked to be a kids writting (it was a gift from Charlie when she was still young), and signing.

When he slid the paper back to the first man, Lucifer raised a questioning brow as the man seemed to be unbashly staring at the pen.

"What an unappropriate item to use when writing such important documents"

Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Oh please as if the angel wasn't yelling curses and giving hushed promises of death under his breath directed at Lucifer years ago.

"You weren't exactly the most appropriate person when were together in this room" it took Adam tilting to the side for Lucifer to digest what he actually said.

Save face, a aired laugh, "wait what did I sa--"

"Lucifer"

The fallen angel stopped talking, attention fully on the first man. That too, hes never heard his name uttered by the man in 100 years 'king of hell' or a hum was what signalled Lucifer that Adam would talk.

"As a matter of fact, I actually have something unappropriate with myself today" with that the first man began removing his mask.

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT

Can fallen angels experience anxiety attacks? The last time Lucifer saw Adams face was in Eden. Before he and Lilith were cast out.

What if the man looks completely different, like the sinners with animals features or maybe Adam would still look human? Honestly Lucifer didnt even know that the first man was wearing a mask, he could've sworn it was his face, especially with how he would slurp smoothies with it, again years ago.

What Lucifer didn't expect was the for the first man to have six eyes. On the right was what looked to be a stylish 'A' and on the left was a regular pupil.

But heavy eye bags on each one.

Six eyes, all emotionless staring right at Lucifers soul. Lucifer felt sick.

"I currently have piercings"

#hazbin hotel adam #adamsapple #lucifer morningstar #adam x lucifer #LobotomizedAU

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impishjesters · 6 months

Note

Im so obsessed with the nonsexual intimacy headcannon between reader and Jax. They are SO good! You're wonderful at writing Jax as well, it feels v in character!! (Even if we only have one ep. :P)

If you like, I would love to see your take on Jax with a reader who makes stuff to show affection. Clothes, art, ect. ect.

If not, that's fine! I love reading through your blog enough on its own, haha!

Jax with a gift-giving affection s/o

warning(s): none A/N: You can't tell me Jax wouldn't get irritable during craft time, patience isn't his strong suit in this situation and he'd definitely overreact if something wasn't going as planned. It's craft time baby, not nuclear codes, you can breathe baby.

Jax isn’t the biggest fan of physical affection, he can but there’s a limit to how much he’ll tolerate.

Being shown your affection by handmade gifts? Well, he’s not used to receiving stuff like this but it’s an absolute breath of fresh air to the idea of being touched all the time.

If you’re his s/o then he’s a lot nicer about the stuff you make him, even if he doesn’t know what it is or have a use for it. (you could gift this bitch a rock with googly eyes and pipe cleaners and he’d still thank you and display it in his room, but in the back of his head he’s questioning what the hell this is and why you’re giving it to him)

If you aren’t dating yet then he’ll still accept the gifts but he’s more forward in asking what something is if he’s unsure. Which could sound like a genuine question or a flat-out rude statement, really depends.

Clothing and accessories are his favorite gifts because not only does he get to look snazzy, but he gets to show them off and rub it in other people’s faces that not only does he look bitchin’ but it’s you who made it for him.

He’s not typically vain but your clothing and accessories make his pride skyrocket.

Jax has zero creative crafting skills but he’ll often toss out an idea for something matching, usually something simple like an accessory but he’ll avoid matching rings. It feels too intimate, similar to certain other matching-themed items.

Now if you manage to rope him into making something with you, IE you supplying it and just sitting there making something together but separately.

The most this boy can make is a bead bracelet, the knot is awful so you’ll have to fix it later when he’s not looking. But hey, you get a one-of-a-kind Jax bracelet that looks like a child teenager made it. (he doesn’t have the patience for anything fancier)

Aside from clothing, Jax also favours any art stuff, especially if it’s of him. Since they won’t get as seen in his room he’s taken to displaying some of them around the tent with a not-so-vague threat that if anything happened to them he’d make sure the punishment followed the crime. (no Caine, you don't get to have an opinion, the picture is staying)

His favourite works stay safely in his room though, you don’t know it but he likes to look at them when he’s missing you. ew emotions

It doesn’t compare skill-wise, but Jax does occasionally try and gift you something in return.

Gangle somehow managed to rope Jax into joining her when crafting one time, saying it would be a nice little surprise to make something for you. (she was just lonely, she feels bad using you as an excuse like that but it worked!)

Once in a blue moon he’ll join Gangle to make you something, it’s a miracle Gangle puts up with him because his frustrations get a little wild for no reason. (he’s like a grumpy toddler in need of a nap time when he gets upset over crafting, man has no patience for the glue to dry)

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

I know you made her your riduur.

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din finds his little clan held captive by Moff Gideon with the Darksaber. He intends to do anything to get them back.

Warnings: kidnapping, mention of blood, fighting, threatening

Author's note: I'm a huge sucker for protective Din, so any requests of that is more than fine by me...

Masterlist

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The door slid open to a sight Din never wanted to see.

Moff Gideon held the dark saber above the Mandalorian's clan.

Y/N and Grogu.

The two were in cuffs, the child in the woman's lap.

When she saw the familiar beskar, she let out a breath of relief, "…Mando…"

He stepped through the doorway slowly with his blaster pointed at the man. But he knew it did no good.

"Drop the blaster." Moff Gideon commanded.

When Din hesitated, Gideon lowered the blade closer to the woman's head.

The soft white glow from the saber illuminated the woman and child's faces, only spotlighting their concern gazes on the Mandalorian.

But Din could barely see it through the red anger that was clouding his vision.

"…Slowly."

Din obeyed, setting the blaster on the hard metal floor.

Y/N shifted in her chair, "Don't… please."

But Din didn't care.

As much as her frail voice made his stomach drop, he would do anything to guarantee that he could keep hearing her voice forever.

Even if that means surrendering.

"Now kick it over to me."

And Din did so. He pointed to his family, "Give me the kid and the girl."

"They are just fine where they are."

Just to tease the beskar-wearing warrior, Moff Gideon menacingly brushed the blade back and forth, mere inches from the girl's head.

She grimaced slightly, looking down at the child.

Moff Gideon didn't care to even look at them, "Mesmerizing, isn't it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan. Oh, yes. I know you've been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything."

Din shifted his weight to his other leg, as he contemplated what to do.

"Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo. And that only two weeks ago did you make this pretty girl your riduur."

Din's voice hardened through the modulator, not only tired of the situation, but angered by the mention his weaknesses. "Where is this going?"

"This is where this is going: I'm guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge, seeking me or, more accurately, this." He held the saber up. "See, but I'm not there. And I imagine that they've killed everyone on the bridge, the murderous savages they are. And now, they're beginning to panic.

"You see, she wants this. Do you know why? Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword… has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne."

Y/N's eyes shift up to Din at this information. She takes note of the light glow that reflects from his armor.

"You keep it." Din says immediately, "I just want the girl and the kid."

Moff Gideon tilts his head in consideration, "Very well. I've already got what I want from the kid. His blood. All I wanted was to study his blood. This child is extremely gifted and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy."

Din finally lets his gaze move to the woman and child. He takes notes of the small cut on Y/N's cheek, the unshed tears that sit in her eyes. The child seems unscathed enough, but his eyes are just as saddened as the girls.

"I see your bond with the child," Gideon continues. "Take them."

Din steps forward.

Moff Gideon's voice becomes low, "But you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways."

Din nodded, moving to his little clan.

Gideon stepped forward to let the Mandalorian do so.

When his gloved hands connected with Y/N's, Gideon ignited the saber, swinging it right into Din's back.

Y/N had never been more thankful that Din wore beskar.

He grunted at the impact, immediately blocking the next swing with his armored arms.

He managed to get the battle away from the two hostages as he lured Moff Gideon into the hallway.

As much as Y/N wanted to help, she knew she was in no state to do so. And she could help Din the most by protecting the child.

She stood up with him in her arms, moving towards the sound of the saber hitting beskar.

She stayed in the doorway, watching the two fight.

Finally, Din got the upper hand and kept his spear pointed at the defeated Moff Gideon who slouched on the ground.

The dark saber had been thrown from his hands, and now resided on the floor near Y/N. She hesitantly picked it up and pocketed it.

"You're sparing my life? Well," Moff Gideon smiled, "This should be interesting."

Din took a moment to remember the girl and child. He turned to see them standing in the hall a few feet back. He motioned them towards him.

Y/N immediately walked to him.

Din managed to get the cuffs off both of them, and only then did he relax.

His hand wandered to Y/N's cheek, lightly grazing over the cut there.

She leaned into his touch, "You came for us…"

"Of course I did. I made vows to you, and I intend to keep them." He lets his eyes wander down her frame, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, hugging the child to her, "We're just fine. Are you… are you alright?"

His helmet moved just barely in a nod, "I'm alright now."

She smiled, reaching into her pocket with the arm that didn't hold the child to retrieve the saber. "Here…"

If only she could've seen his own matching smile under his helmet, "Thank you, cyare."

He turned back to Moff Gideon, letting his voice harden once more to the warrior he was, "Let's go."

And just like that, Y/N felt safe next to the man who would kill anything that stood in his way.

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mariaace · 4 months

Text

Chuuya headcanons

Chuuya Nakahara x GN!reader

Warnings ⚠️: NSFW

SFW

Okayyyy where do i start. This man is literally perfect no one can change my mind about that

Okay when you actually start dating you would be the most precious thing for him. He is ready to risk his life for you no matter what. If gou aren't in the PM he would make you stay away from the things he do, just so you are safe. If you are in the PM, he would most likely go on missions with you if Mori allow it.

So we all know that loyalty is one of the most important things for Chuuya. So for you two to actually start dating he needs some time to really trust you. In order that to happen you need to know him since the ages before Dazai left or you REALLY need to gain his trust like listening about his past and being actually interested in what he's been thought.

BOY IS HE INSECURE. When you to get together he will tell you that he isn't exactly human if you don't know already (if you were in the mafia when he was 15). He would tell you that if you don't want to date him, because of that he will understand it, bc he feels like because of that he isn't being good enough for you. Resure him i am begging you🙏🙏.

HATS. WINE. He has a collection of both of them🤷‍♀️. He would gladly show you these collections. Just imagine walking through his collection of hats and when you saw one that caught your eye, he would just grab it and put it on you. He probably has a favourite wine and would ask you about your thoughts on it.

Even if you are in the mafia or not he would not have a lot of time to spend with you (😭). He is the best Mafia executive, of course he is busy. But he will always make up for when he needed to stay up, bc of the mafia.

I feel like his love language is gift giving. He has the money so why wouldn't he spoil you? Clothes, jewelleries, items, everything you want. Everything you want you'll have it. Just because.

NSFW

Now we going to the real deal here.

I personally see Chuuya as a switch with preference for top.

He will please you. Because why not? He would go down on you for his own pleasure. He notices a lot of things that you do/how you react to sertain things and he will you use that knowledge (sometimes even against you 😉)

You can NOT tell me that this man wouldn't like you taking care of him while you do it. He deserves it okay?!? Especially after rough days at work (*cough* Dazai *cough*), just him laying in bed completely under you mercy. (AHHH)

I feel like he is open to try a lot of things. Without sharing or hurting you. He cannot hurt you. He just can't bring himself to. You are the most precious thing, he can't hurt you even in the bedroom. Other than that i feel like if you ask him he would say yes to whatever is on your crazy mind.

Hand holding is something really important for Chuuya while doing sex. It doesn't matter if he is rough with you and is pinning your hand above your head, or he is gentle and your fingers are interlocked to both sides if your head- it doesn't matter. He just need to hold your hands.

Speaking of which Chuuya will be either rough or gentle- no in-between. He will either fuck you 'till you see stars or he will make love with you 'till you are both out of breath. It all depends on the day, his mood, your mood etc.

Let me say something right now that may sound strange or crazy.....Chuuya using his ability during sex is something i will never not think about. Like he can have in ANY position he want and do basically whatever he wants (let your imagination run wild) and you can't do anything, because who can defy gravity 🤷‍♀️😗. Of course he wouldn't go overboard. He knows your line and he would never cross it.

#mariaace 🪼#bsd #x reader #bsd smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bsd x reader #fypシ #tumblr fyp #hcs #🃁—[mshh]

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sehodreams · 24 days

Text

last day surprises

TW and Tags: slasher!Wonbin, mentions of violent acts (death of a character), heavy dubcon/almost noncon (well... hard to explain), dark!riize, blowjob, p in v, no condom.

WC: 3.4k

Summary: Wonbin swore he had changed, he was better, he had a job he liked, and he had met you, so why did you have to ruin everything?

Comment: don't you hate when I'm such a cunt? having a thousand unfinished drafts I decided to write something nobody asked for. I just wrote this because I NEEDED TO WRITE SOMETHING TO NOT LOSE MY MIND, I've been swamped with work so I wanted to relax a bit, it's something I did pretty quick so it probably has inconsistencies and grammar mistakes (when have I done a fic with perfect grammar in first place?).

Breathing as silently as you could, you watched the shadows moving in the dim light of the night that trespassed the curtains of your room.

Tears were still flooding and your shoulders were shaking, but you couldn’t do anything about it, even if you tried to force yourself to stop, they kept moving on their own, and the only thing you could do was bite your lip and cover your mouth with the palm of your hand, praying with open eyes that god, if there was even one, helped you and let you live at least one more day.

One more day and your cab would go for you in the morning, just like you had planned with your best friend the day before.

The thumb of his steps over the hardwood kept tricking your mind into believing he was far away from the closet you were hiding in, and you had thought that perhaps God had given you the gift of protecting you, but he was the one making the decisions at that moment, he was playing God, and he wasn’t as kind.

If only your friend had never teased him. If only she had listened to you and had left him alone. If only.

‘’You’re too noisy’’ he opened the door and you tried to close it back immediately, nails almost breaking from how much force you were using to not let the door go, gripping on it to not let him in (or to not let him drag you out).

‘’I didn’t do anything’’ you cried and did your best to fight him, ‘’I swear I never laughed’’.

‘’Don’t lie to me’’ the same hand that prepared your cold drinks when you woke up, that carried your bags and held the door open for you when you arrived now held it to stop you from closing it, ‘’I saw you, you were laughing with her, you’re just like her’’.

‘’Wonbin, I never laughed at you, I swear, I always treated you good’’ you tried to make him remember, ‘’We talked a lot, don’t you remember? I told you about my family, and my job, and my home.’’

Your voice waved with every word that left your mouth, and when you thought he was finally weakening, he used more of his strength to create a bigger gap between the door and the frame, enough for one of his arms to enter and grab one of your wrists and tighten it to hurt you.

You hissed, trying to shake him off, but it was useless, and soon, when he got tired of your little game, he completely pulled the door open, pulling you with the same strength and rage, grabbing your hair instead of your wrist, dragging you out of your cave.

‘’Liar’’ he repeated with his stern voice, full of hate, and with a touch of what seemed like pain and deception. ‘’You’re just like her, and you’ll end up just like her’’.

His grip on your scalp made your head burn, and you closed your eyes and cried his name when he dragged you to his feet.

Not knowing what else to say, you don’t know why you said it, but you didn’t have many options to ponder, so you said the first thing that came to your mind ‘’I-I never agreed with her, I thought you were cute, I think you are cute, really’’.

You felt the weight of your words on your head, when his hand debilitated for a second, and you felt a light of hope illuminating you, the same ray of light that infiltrated between the curtains and that told you how late it was.

‘’Then why aren’t you looking at me?’’ he asked, tugging even harder your hair, making you yelp in pain before you answered.

‘’I’m- I’m’’ I’m scared, you wanted to say, but you knew it would make him angrier. ‘’I’m sorry’’.

You opened your eyes, looking at his feet first, dirty brown shoes covering them, to then move your eyes up, passing through his dark pants, and his silver black belt, arriving at where you were trying to avoid when you closed your eyes.

His shirt still had your friend’s blood drenching its front, and you could even distinguish the prints of her hands when she tried to push him away.

His green-striped shirt was the last thing your friend teased him for, telling him how he looked like a creep when you two arrived from your night walk.

You saw how his eyes were different after she left the comment in the air, and you had no idea why, but all your instincts said he wasn’t in the mood for it, so you quickly pushed her inside when he opened the door for you, telling her with your eyes to shut up when she lifted one of his eyebrows at your attitude.

But she never listened.

Hours later when the lights went out in your shared room, she decided to go to the first floor of the old cabin to leave a piece of her mind one last time before the two of you left first hour the next morning.

‘’Can’t believe I paid so much for this shithole’’ your friend said, leaving you alone while you took a shower, wait for me, you screamed under the water, but she was already gone when you finished getting dressed in the darkness.

You found your phone as you could in the obscure room and turned on your flashlight to walk down the stairs and search for her.

Five minutes later, after calling her name numerous times, receiving no answer from her, inside the kitchen, you saw her body on the floor, blood pooling around her and dirtying your sandals, liquid touching your feet and starling you with the wet sensation before you illuminated her and saw her lifeless eyes.

You screamed and your phone slipped from your hands, falling to the pond and splashing the red fluids to your bare legs with the fall.

His steps, because of the shoes he wore all the time, boots perfect for the woods but heavy on the floor, made soundly thuds, indicating how close he was to you.

Running to one of the single rooms on the first floor, you tried to hide from whoever was out there, but deep inside, you knew who did it.

And you weren’t wrong, your hunch, as almost always, was right.

Your hunch had told you to treat him good, to sweetly say good morning and ramble about the weather and other things you saw with your friend while he prepared breakfast and she got dressed for the day.

Wonbin wasn’t exactly bad at the start, he was just… different.

He never smiled when you two arrived, he didn’t even dare to maintain eye contact, and when you talked with him sometimes you felt you were talking more to the air than to a person, but there was something inside you that pushed you to be overly nice to him, perhaps the same thing that pushed your friend to treat him like shit.

‘’You’re still not looking at me’’ his voice interrupted the memories of you telling your friend to not treat him like that, and you had to move your eyes from the stain on his shirt to his face.

His blonde dry hair seemed lighter at night, almost white, and you sobbed when your eyes inspected his face and a drop of his own blood dripped down his cheek because of a scratch.

It definitely was product of your friend’s manicure, nails always long and sharp enough to cut skin, she once even hurt you when you tried to hold her hand while you were walking through a tough area in the woods and she tripped over one of the many rocks, so it wasn’t hard to deduce how he got that cut there.

‘’I’m sorry Wonbin, I’m sorry’’ you didn’t know what you were apologizing for, it was the only sentence that came out of you.

‘’How sorry are you?’’ he replied to your constant mumbles.

You couldn’t answer, how sorry were you? You didn’t do anything at all, you shouldn’t even feel like that, but there you were, on your knees, with his hand on your hair, his eyes looking down at you, and your heart flinching of fear.

‘’Show me how sorry you are’’ he continued.

The same hand holding you in place pushed your face to his crotch, a bulge was already there, and your breath hitched when you understood what he wanted.

‘’I never- I’ve never done it’’ you sobbed, palms over his thighs to stop your chest from touching him.

Your cheek was pressing his zipper, which felt cold and slightly painful against the soft skin of your face.

‘’I never let anyone free either, there’s a first time for everything’’ he answered, both hands now resting over your head and pressing you to give him what he wanted.

He smelled earthy, like the wet puddles near the river, and you somehow found yourself inhaling the aroma again, to maintain you sane and ignore the stronger smell of your friend’s blood in his shirt had.

With shaky hands you pulled down the zipper, the sound extremely notorious in the quiet house, and your sobs were quickly silenced with his cock intruding your mouth.

He let you take your time with it, sighing with the superficial licks you gave to his shaft, letting you get used to it before he ordered you to open your mouth enough to accept him inside.

At least he wasn’t rough, his hand wasn’t a grip on your hair anymore from the moment he made obvious his needs, posing on the back of your head and even caressing it while guiding you.

Not daring to interrupt the sudden softness he had with you, you let him use you, as if you were only an object for him to satisfy himself, and it was wrong, but you found yourself not hating it.

Your brain turned off for a second, a line of saliva escaping your lips when he pulled out and pushed back in with a deep thrust, making you dizzy with his flavor, and an unrecognizable pressure started to build in your abdomen.

Tears kept rolling down your cheeks, it was horrendous how you were giving the first blowjob of your life to your friend’s killer, and it was even worse that you weren’t dying to push him away from your face.

‘’Shit’’ he exhaled when you started to move your head on your own, choking yourself with his length and gripping on his pants with the pressure traveling from the pitch of your abdomen to your cunt. ‘’You like sucking cock, uh? Were you lying when you said you had never done it before too?’’

You stopped for a second, wrapping one of your hands to the base of his cock to move it up and down while you talked. ‘’I’m not a liar’’ you defended yourself.

You never lied, you did think Wonbin was cute.

Even with his terrible outfits, his ugly straw-like hair and his awkward attitude, he gave you unusual amounts of attention you had enjoyed, like always receiving you with fresh juice when you walked down the stairs and preparing bags with things you might need in the forest.

Your friend had noticed it too, saying how it was his job and for you to not get swayed, he was only the service there, and the treatment you received wasn’t anything special, but you knew why she was like that, resentful, because she wasn’t the one receiving it, and you, her fat friend, were doing it when it should be her.

Grabbing you by the hair again, he dragged you to the only bed in the room, covered by a clean set of bedsheets, laid flawlessly by him, without a single wrinkle in sight, until he tossed you over them and ruined the perfect image he had created.

He felt you were sincere when you said you weren’t a liar, but how could you think he was cute? No one had ever called him that, saying how his face was frightening instead, with those big eyes and his forever dark gaze studying them, hating his equally black hair so much that he decided to dye it to avoid those comments.

It didn’t work, they said how he looked even more like a freak now, and he thought he had left those violent responses well behind in his life, until your friend appeared and broke him again.

She wasn’t the only one breaking him though, you had played a significant part in his mind wanting to repeat past patterns, he even swore he could’ve ignored her if you hadn’t laughed that day.

It was just hours ago, before your daily walk, that he recognized the gray clouds gathering in the sky, and that his body moved on his own, running to give you one of the raincoats he had stored for emergencies. He gave you the coat with a small smile, and you accepted it with a wide one, making him feel something warm install in his chest, making him weak for you.

He thought you were different, and then he heard you laughing when your friend called him an idiot, finishing the job your friend had started so eagerly since you two arrived there.

You had laughed because you thought he was adorable.

‘’Take your shorts off’’ he ordered, watching you stay still in the bed, tears flooding and your hands shaking on your sides. ‘’I’m getting tired of you not listening.’’

You heard him clear, and not wanting to see what he would do when he got fed up with your behavior, your hands tucked down your baby blue pajama shorts.

When you watched them slide down your legs you saw how little red dots appeared on the fabric and the dry blood scrap down like old paint.

His hands were clean, unlike his clothes, so it was probably he was washing them when you walked down the stairs.

They felt cold over your thighs when he made you open your legs for him, and you shivered for the sensation of his big palms touching your large thighs.

He put force into his grip to see how deep into your skin he could go, thinking how good it would feel to sink into your bare skin.

Moving your panties to the side, he was welcomed by your shiny entrance leaking for him. ‘’Fuck, are you enjoying this?’’ he asked, happily surprised by your excitement, ‘’You’re even sicker than me.’’

You didn’t like that affirmation, but you didn’t want to deny anything to him anymore.

His thumb grazed your clit teasingly, enjoying how the little bud jumped in front of his eyes and you shook from something else than fear.

You would rather die than admit it, but it felt good.

‘’You like it so much’’ he said more to himself, showing you the first wide smile you had ever seen from him since you got to that place.

He licked his thumb and groaned at your flavor, admiring you there for a good minute. Your hair was ruffled, your gleamy eyes were looking at his, and your chest was moving up and down, making your hard nipples noticeable through the white t-shirt you wore to sleep. When he saw you wearing your pajama a couple of days earlier, you keeping him company while he made your breakfast, he had salivated more to the picture of your round unsupported chest calling for him to taste them than to the fresh food in his hands.

Now that he had you dripping for him, pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for him to touch it again, he pushed his middle and ring finger inside you.

Knuckles deep, he felt his cock twitching every time you moaned his name when he shoved his fingers with force in and out, biting his lip to not moan at the feeling of you making a mess in his hands.

‘’Fuck-fuck’’ you let your head fall, and you should’ve wanted him to stop, but you were so close to your orgasm, you closed your eyes to ignore the reality of the moment, permitting him to touch you, only begging to cum inside your mind.

His hands pushing your legs up made you aware of your surroundings again.

You couldn’t even ask him what he was doing when he plunged inside you, sliding his cock without any kind of signal, forcing your walls open to accept his length.

It was a pain you had never felt before, a good pain, but the stretch had burned a little, making you whine as a response.

He, on the other hand, sighed of relief, shuddering at the long-missed sensation of a warm real person accepting him.

Messily moving his hips, he didn’t wait for you to get used to him, and he thrusted as deep as he could, completely bottoming out, making you slightly bounce in the bed with each hard smack.

Your skin and his were creating a loud echo inside the room and you moaned his name with how good he was fucking you.

You honestly would’ve enjoyed it so much, free of guilt, if he hadn’t done that. You would’ve even pulled him closer to you if only your friend’s blood wasn’t drenching your t-shirt too.

‘’Take it off’’ your fingers tried to reach for the hem of his shirt, but he kept with his rhythm, groaning with your velvet walls perfectly wrapping him, ‘’please, please.’’

The begging was hot too, but he didn’t want to do it, so he only stopped his movements to take yours off instead.

You lifted your arms for him, and when he had the impure fabric in his hands, he decided to clean some of the sweat accumulating in his forehead with it, tossing it to the floor when he finished.

He looked strangely handsome when he did it, like a normal man you would’ve met in the city, maybe in a club or a bar, one of the kind that usually ignored you to dance with your friend.

But he was with you that night, and you cried when he went back to fucking you, remembering that he wasn’t just any man, making you feel even dirtier with his wet shirt sticking to your abdomen.

It was on purpose, he couldn’t hide it, the amused breath he let out told you how much he wanted to taint you too.

Launching to your breast, he rocked into you while his mouth maintained itself busy with your nipples, taking turns with his hand, making eye contact until you felt the past interrupted orgasm coming back.

He looked so drunk with your chest and your cunt, you couldn’t help but moan louder when the same hand playing with your nipple went down, pushing its way between his solid abdomen and your soft tummy, until it found your clit.

You were already clamping his cock when he started to play with your clit, and he left your chest to moan on your mouth when you cried and writhed under him.

Spreading your legs wider, you didn’t care that his shirt felt disgusting against your skin anymore, or that his steaming breath was directly falling in your open mouth, you simply wanted to cum.

His mouth joined yours when you said his name one more time, a broken Wonbin that made him weak once again, pressing his lips against yours while his hips rutted harder into you to help you obtain your well-deserved orgasm.

He came not much after, letting all in your insides, painting you with his cum to mark you.

You were his the minute you smiled at him and said his hair was pretty the first morning of your stay.

‘’One time is not enough to earn my forgiveness’’ he said, and you eagerly nodded.

You convinced yourself that, when you straddled his lap, it was because you wanted to live, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that he had made you cum for the first time in your life and how you wanted to feel it again.

The next morning you woke up with his weight sinking in the mattress and his hand moving your hair out of your face, making you open your eyes to see him staring at you with a tenderness you had never seen before. He was wearing a clean change of clothes, but with a particularly weird aroma, like the smoke after a campfire.

‘’It’s raining, roads are closed until it stops’’ he murmured to not startle you, ‘’sorry honey’’ he finished, and you closed your eyes, tired of thinking, only praying that your cab didn’t ask you to reschedule, because you doubted he hadn’t burned your things too.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #dark!riize #wonbin x reader #wonbin smut #please read tw

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