#both of my brothers have great eyes for color

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 6

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"Love Ever since the first moment I spoke your name From then on I knew that by you being in my life Things were destined to change cause

Love So many people use your name in vain Love Those who have faith in you sometimes go astray Love Through all the ups and downs the joy and hurt Love For better or worse I still will choose you first"

Musiqsoulchild – "Love"

His heart was in the shape of his woman.

King N'Jadaka held out his big hand next to Queen Yani's and let their wedding bands touch so the Wakandan media could snap holopics of the bride and groom exiting the Temple of Sekmet. He gazed at his new wife and her smile increased the size of her shape on the left side of his chest.

They were made for each other.

No queen on earth had ever come to the throne like her or had the power she commanded by his side. What the world couldn't see was that she held a priceless leash around his neck and could make him do things that no other woman before her ever did. Yani dominated his every waking moment and was the one he wanted to see first when his work day in the West palace was over. Their wedding cemented a holy bond and he preened before his citizens letting them see how blessed he was to have her and his beautiful children.

He lifted her ring-clad hand and kissed it, then led her down ancient fawn-colored stone steps toward a wedding carriage drawn by two mighty water buffalos whose bloodline his greatest grandmother Queen Shuriya had bred and tamed her entire life. The two giant beasts were direct descendents of the one she rode in a painting hanging in his royal office.

Sydette clapped her hands excitedly as she peered at the giant animals and the decorative vibranium blue colors painted on their flesh.

"They are so huge, Baba!" Sydette yelped.

"Come on, watch your step Sweet Pea, we have to ride through the street," he said, clasping her hand.

Riki climbed down the last step and latched his eyes onto one of the buffalo and raised his arms out wide to try and match the length of the giant curved horns adorned with gold and silver jewels that jutted forward making them dangerous for potential gorging. He glanced back at N'Jadaka and grinned. The great beast's head turned and stared at the little prince. Joba moved closer to her brother and both children peered with quiet curiosity at how massive Wakandan animals could be.

"Yani," N'Jadaka said, helping his wife onto the carriage where she took her seat and fixed the train of her dress.

He lifted Sydette into it next and his younger children waited for him to place them on board. His family seated, N'Jadaka stepped onto the roomy carriage and he and Yani waved at the crowd. Their children sat across from them with booster seats so they could see better.

The two coachman sitting in the driver's seat awaited a signal from the Kingsguard escorting them on foot. There was a slight jerk and the carriage began to move at a steady pace. The proud king kissed his queen and the crowd cheered louder. Flowers and soft palm seeds were thrown at them and the children tried collecting as many as they could catch with delighted smiles on their faces.

He held Yani's hand tight and they all watched their citizens celebrate. Behind them, the rest of the royal family rode in a protected motorcade and they wound their way through the streets of the golden capital.

Surreal.

The feeling of watching himself from afar took over and N'Jadaka took a deep inhale of fresh air. His emotions rested in his chest and throat. This was the fairy tale made real. He had a queen. A kingdom. A giant double palace. To lose so much, but to be given much more in return overwhelmed him.

He gazed at Yani and she continued waving at their people. They waited to cross over a bridge that would take them deeper into the heart of Birnin Zana and a flock of prized river birds flew across their carriage, their purple and blue wings a brilliant flash of color over their heads.

"That's a good sign, kumkani," the lead driver of the carriage said, "it means you will be blessed with many children."

Yani laughed and patted N'Jadaka's hand.

"Listen to the man, Yani, the heavens have ordained that we get it poppin'."

"Any excuse to get me pregnant right away," Yani said.

Riki slipped a hand in his side pocket and pulled out a folded square of money. He gave it to the king.

"What's this for Lil Man?" N'Jadaka asked.

"A boy. If you and Mama insist on making more of us, please let it be a boy. Toussaint and I are struggling to catch up in our age group," Riki pleaded.

"I will do what I can."

Yani took the money away from him and stuffed it into her bodice.

"Not you two plotting," Yani quipped.

N'Jadaka threw his head back and laughed.

"Mama, it's time to throw the bouquet," Sydette squealed.

The carriage crossed over the bridge and stopped once it got to the other side. As tradition dictated, Yani stood inside the carriage and tossed the bridal bouquet into the river water to signify the queen's blessing to become the new mother of the nation. The flowers floated away and spectators snapped holopics and cheered for their new queen.

"They were so pretty, I wish you didn't have to throw them away," Joba said, her face peering over the side of carriage.

Yani caressed her cheek.

"I will have more flowers given to me back at the reception," Yani said.

Joba looked happy about that and climbed onto Yani's lap for the rest of the ride through the city.

Admiration, awe, and even love flowed out to the new Udaku family taking over the throne. A tide had shifted yet again in Wakanda. His popularity was at an all time high with younger citizens, and even some of the old heads begrudgingly accepted his leadership. They finally accepted his love for the nation as genuine.

Their carriage ride continued until they reached Old Village, a section of Birnin Zana that had been the social center for centuries until Queen Shuriya pushed them into a new technological age that shifted the heart of the city elsewhere by the riverbank. While the rest of the world was barely entering the early modern era, Wakanda had already settled into post modern advances.

The family stepped out of the carriage and walked a quarter mile to another temple dedicated to Mama Wati that rested across the mouth opening of the Ibukan River which connected the water flow through the city to the ocean miles away. Priests of the water deity stood outside waiting for them. He and Yani were both anointed with fresh oils and smudged down with dried plants that only grew there. They were prayed over and then led out into an open street where citizens cheered them on while they made the final trek to the edge of the great mound, the place where vibranium crashed into the earth. Singers and dancers greeted them in a secured area where the family could all see the enormous rise in the distance where the glowing blue metal rested underneath.

Ogum shifted inside of N'Jadaka. So did Bast. He pointed to the majestic sight making sure his children studied it. "That's the place where it all began," he said.

Sydette, Riki, and Joba nodded and stared at the mound. At its tip, it stood nearly a mile high, but deep inside the earth where the rest of the vibranium sank itself, there was enough to supply his people for another millennium or more. They all felt the energy emanating from the ground they stood near. His vibram tattoo itched from the mighty source. The great mound wasn't just a mining area, but a holy place too. From their vantage point they couldn't see the mining side of the mound. Their view looked like an image one would see on a postcard or tourist advertisement. High above them the Royal Talon Fighter floated into view. It was time to return to the palace for a twelve course feast, with music, dancing, and a full evening of celebrating the new king and queen.

N'Jadaka gathered his family close as they were lifted up into the air by the gravity beam and gently pulled inside the aircraft.

The cheers from their guests were loud as they exited the Talon Fighter and Yani had to pause in her steps to take in all the love. She gazed across the royal garden at the number of people calling out her new name.

"Queen Yani!"

She grinned and the children ran away from her toward Umama and Dante where all their young cousins stood gathered waiting to run around and play. Yani felt the shift in power in the royal garden. With her new isicholo firmly rooted to her scalp, she absorbed the way all the spectators watched her closely, especially the Wakandans of the noble class. No longer viewed as a separate entity from the king, she was now ogled openly as an extension of Udaku power.

Hugs and kisses were shared and the immediate royal family and the wedding party were gathered up near a view of the river and the backdrop of Mount Bashenga where a photographer snapped holopics before taking different groupings of Yani with the bridesmaids, the children, her husband, and then a lovely shot of three generations of queens. She stood in the center as Umama and Ramonda flanked her, their crowns breathtaking. Sydette and Joba were brought in for a candid, and then N'Jadaka and his groomsman and grandfather were photographed with Riki. Forty minutes later the bridal party was paraded around the guests and Yani saw the breadth of the decorations and reception set up. It took her breath away at how massive the royal garden was and how simply setting up where the sun would set behind them looked so different and unexplored.

N'Jadaka clasped her hand and led her to the head table. Guests were given a brief amount of time to personally greet the king and queen before their twelve course meal began. Love surrounded her and the enormity of her place as the queen of the nation sank down deeper.

Although it seemed like twelve courses would be a long grueling process, Yani found it to be relaxing and paced well. Everyone feasted, laughed, cried, caught up with each other, and dabbled in intrigue with so many important people in one place. By the time the royal orchestra kicked up the music for the first bridal dance, Yani was ready to move around and help her digestive system handle her stuffed belly.

N'Jadaka held her close as they shared their first dance as husband and wife. They then split apart to dance with their elders and then others were invited to join them. She took that opportunity to walk around and greet nobles with N'Jadaka once the dancing area filled up.

Heads bowed at her approach and she shared small chat with dozens of guests on the east side of the reception area. Umama and Ramonda had taught her how to move her eyes so that people around her felt appreciated even if she couldn't get to them one on one. She waved, blew kisses and kept her momentum moving through the hundreds of people yearning to see her up close with the king.

N'Jadaka held her hand like he would never let her go. His love flowed all around her and his gaze never left her unattended. They quickly moved back toward their own table and noticed Mpilo with his mother and sister speaking with Dante. N'Jadaka lowered his mouth to her ear.

"Should we make our announcement now before the party gets a little wilder with all the dancing?" he asked.

Yani squeezed his hand.

The month prior they had been meeting with Umama and the Council of Elders regarding an important decision about Mpilo and his baby sister, Nandipha who had recently turned fifteen. They took their place back at the head table and N'Jadaka gestured for Mpilo to come to him with his mother and sister. Yani sent word to the orchestra leader to finish the song they played that had the wedding crowd cutting up.

Mpilo's eyes grew wide with curiosity as to why he was being summoned by the king in front of two thousand guests. N'Jadaka was handed a mic and Yani stood next to him. The king cleared his throat and gazed upon the audience.

"This is my executive assistant, Mpilo, and he has worked for me since leaving primary school a couple of years ago. Next year he will begin his mandatory military service, and that is a very important and serious undertaking for our young people. My father proudly served and I understand the pride that comes from serving a country such as this…"

Yani watched Mpilo's face as N'Jadaka spoke. He was nervous and shy at being put on the spot, but his mother's and sister's faces beamed at being addressed directly by the king.

"As many of us have experienced in the Great Removal of the last war, Mpilo's father and brothers were taken. He has taken the great responsibility of caring for his mother and sister…however, I feel this is a great burden for such a young man starting out his life. Queen Yani and I have spoken in private about this and we've made the decision to have me step in as Mpilo's unvikeli."

Mpilo's legs almost buckled and his mother and sister kept his body steady. Whispers among the nobles could clearly be heard moving rapidly around dining tables. Yani held out her hand toward Mpilo and pulled him next to N'Jadaka. Her personal attendant Sindiswa handed her the same matching unvikeli necklaces that her own children once wore for T'Challa. Mpilo lowered his head and spoke with a soft voice.

"King N'Jadaka…Queen Yani…I am not—"

"You are not what?" Yani asked.

She touched Mpilo's chin and lifted it so their eyes could connect. The young man pressed his lips together. Yani unfastened the necklace and handed it to N'Jadaka. He turned Mpilo to face the guests while he hooked the necklace in front of everyone.

"Fatherhood is very important along with a mother's love and guidance. Queen Yani has told me time and time again that I have become a father figure to you in these hard times after the war. I humbly ask that you allow me to step in for your father to help guide you until you reach legal adulthood when you turn twenty-six. At that time you and your sister will be registered in our ancestral rolls as extended kin. When you turn thirty I will petition the Council of Elders to grant you a title with a rank that they deem appropriate. I will do the same for your sister when she also turns thirty."

Mpilo's mother and sister wept openly.

Yani touched Mpilo's hand.

"Mpilo?"

Mpilo's chest shuddered and he wiped his eyes quickly. He raised himself higher and pulled back his shoulders.

"I will accept this kumkani," Mpilo said.

The guests clapped and Yani had other wedding attendants escort Mpilo's small family to one of the royal's tables near Umama and Dante. Yani and N'Jadaka followed, giving heartfelt hugs to their new kin. Music played again and the wedding celebration continued late into the night. Once the moon had risen and the children were allowed to stay at the reception for another hour before their bedtime. Yani sensed N'Jadaka's energy depleting. He was ready for the night to end so they could be alone. Their children would stay with Umama and they would have their home to themselves for the night before they had to finish the rest of the wedding duties the next day in Necropolis City. After that, they would be whisked away to their boat where they would have two solid weeks with no one else but them.

She strode past a crowded table of elder relatives from Umama's side of the family and zigzagged to where Twyla and her husband Bibi sat talking big talk with Kendall. Twyla gently grabbed Yani's wrist and pulled her down in the seat next to her.

"Look at you," Twyla said.

"I feel wonderful," Yani purred.

Twyla stared into Yani's eyes and cradled both of her hands.

"Are you finally happy? Have everything you want?"

Yani glanced over at N'Jadaka who strode past with his male cousins from the states. Every eye was on him and his bold steps made her heart thump faster. She patted Twyla's hand.

"It's like being back home when it was us against the world. That peace that we stole together…the peace I thought I would never have again…I have it forever now. Mi can breathe and not fear anything or anyone," Yani said.

"He is so in love with you. Everyone can feel it…oh look, here he come," Tywla said, her voice bursting into loud laughs as N'Jadak reached for Yani's hand and pulled her back by his side. He bent down and kissed Twyla's cheek.

"Tryna steal her again?" N'Jadaka said,

"No king, I would never," Twyla teased. "That was a nice thing you did for Mpilo and his sister. Did Nakia take you up on your offer to be Toussaint's unvikeli?"

"She's still considering it. Her mind is still bent on going to Haiti. I don't think she wants the pressure of the throne on her son. She likes being out of the public with Toussaint," N'Jadaka said.

"Well I think she should let you take care of Toussaint the way T'Challa watched over your brood," Twyla said.

"I agree," Yani interjected, supporting Twyla's declaration.

"Maybe she'll come around. But I won't force it. Umama and Ramonda are worried about her leaving and if I push to protect Toussaint, then she might flee sooner."

Sydette rushed forward and pulled on her parent's hands.

"The magic show is about to start!" Sydette shouted.

"Did you have more cake?" Yanis asked, wiping the side of her daughter's lips that were smeared with blue and purple icing.

Sydette licked the side of her mouth and grinned.

"I only ate a tiny piece. Come on, we have to watch the show!"

They followed Sydette toward a circular stone amphitheater hidden behind the tall row of forty-foot tall ironwood trees. The wedding guests trailed in finding seats and the royal family sat in the center front row. A female magician delighted the audience with an astonishing show that lasted forty minutes. There were acrobatics, visual illusions, mystery and panthers used to entertain a mesmerized crowd. The show ended with an acrobatic troop from Ghana, a gift from First Lady Vivienne Tettah and her husband President Kojo Tettah.

Music back near the wedding gazebo started up again and the guests waited to disperse and party far into the night. N'Jadaka led Yani to the center of the open garden theater and bid their guests a fun evening. They herded their children with Umama toward the East gate of the palace, waving and accepting the cheers and final well-wishes.

Parting ways with Umama and the children inside the palace, Yani and N'Jadaka braced their backs against the private elevator glass that whisked them up to their home. There were no night attendants or servants to pamper them. They were completely alone the way they wanted to be.

N'Jadaka helped Yani out of her dress in his bedroom and then she pulled off his robes. They took a quick sonic shower and scrambled to get into bed. Exhaustion prevented any frisky behavior. Happiness and love cradled them in the quiet privacy of the large round bed. Fireworks lit up the sky from their wall window. The king pulled his queen onto his chest and held her in a tight embrace.

A restful slumber guided them the rest of the night.

N'Jadaka watched Yani sleep curled into his side.

He kept his left arm around her as her soft warm breath blew across his left pec. He checked his kimoyo beads on his right wrist and whispered instructions for their breakfast to be brought to his bedroom within the hour. Snuggling against his wife he caressed her cheek and then carefully kissed her forehead. They both needed rest and quiet before leaving for the family tombs in the city of the dead ancestors. Yani's name would be added to the ancestral rolls as they paid their respect to the past queens and kings. Afterward, they were free to honeymoon.

The wedding had been a tremendous affair and the Wakandan news and the global media had a field day reporting on the splendor and the grand entrance of Queen Yani. The outside world was permitted to see them leave the temple, but only the Wakandans could relive the experience on vids at home. World leaders who were still in Wakanda gave vid chats to their own people describing the experience. Royal images of the wedding party circled the globe.

Yani murmured into his chest and he looked down. Her eyelids fluttered open and he smiled at her.

"Hey Mrs. Udaku," he said.

She grinned and stretched her neck to kiss him.

"Since we never consummated the marriage, does that mean we failed our first duty as a couple?" she asked.

He laughed.

"We were too damn tired, girl."

"You must be getting old then, I could've done a little something," Yani bragged.

"All this talkin' now when you were snoring the moment we hit these sheets last night. Stop lyin."

"Hmmm," she said stretching, "It was a long day. A glorious day, but very long."

She pushed back the covers and slid down his body, engulfing his penis, sucking on it until the hot flesh hardened like a brick.

"Aye, Ma…protocols are in order. You make me nut and we don't pay our respects to Bast, we'll curse this union."

He pushed Yani's mouth away. She rose and left their marriage bed, naked as a jay bird and picked up the ceremonial bundle.

"Should we do this now, or after breakfast?" she asked.

She stood holding the bundle looking sexy and ready for anything he had in mind. His gaze dropped to her vulva. The piercings they marked her as his precious gift sparkled in the morning light that spilled from the window.

"You make it sound so clinical saying it like that," he said.

Yani padded back to the bed and stared at him.

"If we don't do it now, we might forget and mess up later. We'll get on the boat and be so happy that we're alone that I know you'll make love to me and overlook the rules," Yani said.

"We can set an alarm on our kimoyo beads," he suggested.

"So you don't want to do it now."

"I don't want to rush getting intimate with you."

She fondled her vulva, peeling back the outer labia. The pink inside already glistened. His dick jumped at the sight.

"Let's just do the ceremonial part now, pay homage to Bast and then we can relax until we are alone again. Our first time together as husband and wife shouldn't be quick," she said.

She reached for his dick and stroked it, letting the pre-cum pearl down the taught flesh. Fully engorged, his erection looked darker than the skin surrounding it.

"Okay," he huffed, watching her soft hand go up and down the shaft. A thick tear-drop shaped bit of pre-cum slid over the crease in her hand and he groaned. He didn't have to choke back on sound. The home was theirs to be loud.

Yani unfurled the ceremonial leather bundle and they touched the inscriptions of symbols and words etched into the leather. He helped her tie it using the strings on the four corners like a corset around her midsection. She used pillows from the bed to make her head and hips comfortable as he knelt between her legs.

"Ready?" he said.

She nodded.

N'Jadaka began to kiss and lick her clit, pulling soft moans from her lips as his tongue slathered her tender parts with saliva. He stroked his dick while working his mouth magic on her. Yani's thighs parted further while she cupped her breasts.

His lips dripped with her sticky love offerings, and by the time he was flicking the tip of his tongue just under her clit, Yani was calling out his name, letting the sound fly up to the high ceiling. It echoed like angels around them and he grunted a satisfied noise that helped her release into his mouth. Her vulva throbbed against his moist lips, the strong pulses pulling him up to his feet.

"Yani!" he shouted, jerking his dick faster hunched over her.

He aimed his release all over the leather corset, soaking it with hot white semen that continued to spurt as he squeezed his balls. Yani quickly unfastened the strings keeping the offering of cum from spilling away. His sweat fell onto her breasts and he gave one final tug to his dick.

"I've got it all," Yani said.

She curled the sides of the leather back into a bundle and he walked with her out to the balcony. A brass burning ring sat near the center of the space. Yani placed the semen-soaked bundle into the ring and they both struck a long match together, setting it ablaze. They each added small tied bundles of herbs to the leather and the smoke turned from white to purple and sent a trail of thick color up into the morning sky. N'Jadaka held Yani's hand and they spoke out loud ancient words to bless their union in the sight of Bast's offering.

The leather and herbs burned down quickly, and they showered together in his bathroom, taking their time lathering each other up and allowing steamy water to cascade down their wet bodies. He kissed and fondled his wife, enjoying the taste of her in his mouth and the scent of her skin in his nose.

Breakfast was full of them laughing and recounting the events of the day before. Yani held his hand tight when they left the palace together dressed in long white robes.

The trip to Necropolis City was taken in the Royal Talon Fighter with their children.

Walking the steps holding Yani's hand, N'Jadaka stared at the building that his body once rested in. Joba paused walking up the final step and N'Jadaka took her hand. His youngest daughter's body shook and he sensed her hesitancy.

"I'm right here Sunshine," he said.

Joba squeezed his hand and they entered the building following Umama and Ramonda. They walked along a long hallway that led to a special room away from the tombs. The walls in the room were covered by a gigantic purple and silver silk tapestry that displayed all the family names since the time of King Bashenga and Queen Tiye.

The only people allowed to witness the addition of Yani's name in person were their immediate family members. A small ceremony led by a Necropolis City elder didn't take long. Next to N'Jadaka's name was a space for Yani, and she signed a slender tablet that burned her name into the silk for all of time. A small sample of her blood had been taken to make the ink that burned into the material. Sydette and Riki watched with wide eyes. Joba clung to his hand.

Ushered back outside, the rest of their wedding party and familial guests waited for them, tossing flowers at Yani and N'Jadaka. Kisses and hugs were passed around and given to their children last. The ramp to the Royal Talon Fighter awaited them. N'Jadaka and Yani both fought the urge to run away from everyone.

"Have a beautiful trip!" Umama called.

N'Jadaka glanced at his children standing with his grandmother and grandfather. He waved, took Yani's hand and guided her into the Royal Talon Fighter.

Gliding along the Ibukan River, they spotted the royal house boat in the distance. Yani hugged him tight.

"Finally…our honeymoon," she whispered.

The Talon Fighter touched down on the ground near a dock. Okoye and Ayo departed the Talon Fighter first and spoke with the Doras guarding the boat. N'Jadaka squeezed Yani's hand and they both ran toward the boat, flinging off their ceremonial robes revealing swimsuits under neath. Okoye threw back her head and laughed.

"Be safe my king. We will track your trip discreetly and bring the royal children to you in two weeks," Okoye said.

"Bye!" Yani squealed.

N'Jadaka activated the onboard system and programmed it to sail away from the dock. He poured Yani a glass of champagne and they stood on the bow to watch it sail out of the golden city.

Yani toasted his glass again and he held her waist.

"To us, my king," she said.

"To us, my queen," he said back with all the love he could muster in his voice.

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#King Killmonger #King Killmonger The Golden Jaguar #Killmonger Fanfiction #Black Panther Fanfiction #Wakanda Forever #Youtube

[archersartcorner]

Replaying Far Harbor cus DIMA…… I MISSED MY LIL WAR CRIMINAL DIMA…. So here’s some old doodles from July 2021! Wanna draw them againnn but also drawing DiMA means committing to. Drawing DiMA, unfortunately.

#my art #fallout 4 #nick valentine #dima fallout 4 #fallout 4 dima #DiMA personally gave me a lotta big brother vibes. which is great considering I love Nick whump LMAO #ghhhh I need 2 draw them again. or I need to draw more of my fo4 aso au. maybe both even. #also the idea of Gen 1s & 2s having a sleep mode and Nick just. not knowing about it. still funny two years later WHDVSJSB #‘wait I can sleep? thought I couldn’t. huh.’ DiMA trying so hard not to tell him THISISWHYYOUDONTREMEMBERRAAGGHH ‘mhm. yes. you can :).’ #also I love like. duo characters where they’re distinguished by warm/cool tones… #Nick having the outright yellow eyes and further warm undertones… DiMA with the light blue nearly white eyes and the blue backdrop of Acadia #chefs kiss. one of my favorite methods of color communication. WARM VS COOL!!!!!

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

#slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair

[flowerandblood]

Object of Desire (1/3)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, hate sex, sex content, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]

[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. This story is an Anon Request, sorry it took me so long. I know anon wanted it to be a softer and sweeter story, but it didn't fit Aemond's character and what I think would be going on in his head. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of humiliation, violence and chauvinism. ]

Part 2 − Object of Despair Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

______

He thought the greatest humiliation of his life was behind him when he lost an eye, when his brother and nephews gave him a pig instead of a dragon. He thought that now that he was a man, rider of the greatest dragon walking the earth − he would finally get everything he deserved, a wife from a dignified, respected House, and with her an offspring, his inheritance, an extension of his lineage.

He could not hide his expression of disappointment, disgust and bitterness when his mother informed him that instead of one of Lord Baratheon's daughters he would be marrying Lord Arryn's niece − his grandfather, intent on strengthening his brother's position on the throne felt that depriving Rheanyra of the support of the Eyrie, her mother's kin, would greatly weaken her in the ongoing war.

He would have endured this change without a word were it not for one thing.

The woman was a fucking widow.

Already intimate with another man who had taken her virginity, she was worn, marked, like an overbitten apple that now someone had to eat to the end to keep it from rotting.

He imagined in the back of his mind how the court, which both feared and mocked him, would spread rumours that the One-Eyed Prince was not only crippled but must marry a woman devoid of value and her greatest virtue, for no other lady would agree to be his wife.

However, he knew what duty was and intended to fulfil it.

Despite his mother's suggestion, he did not want to see her before the nuptial day. He felt that he did not want to further exacerbate her bad enough appearance in his eyes; he feared that she was not only worthless but plain ugly, her mind empty and shallow.

Although the nuptials were to take place in the noble family, knowing that this would not be her first wedding it was decided that the whole ceremony would be modest, only the most loyal lords and relatives who supported their cause were invited.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror in shame and disgust, at his emerald tunic adorned with golden threads swirling in embroidery reminiscent of dragon's heads, he thought it seemed too refined for such an occasion, for such a woman who could offer him nothing.

He knew that there was no fault of hers in her husband's sudden passing from this world, that it was pure politics, but he could not help thinking that it would have been better if she had died with him.

Waiting for her in the Great Sept, he felt nothing − he had not even bestowed a single glance on her when he heard the sound of trumpets, indicating that she and her father had entered the temple and were heading towards him.

As he felt her presence beside him he immediately noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was dressed in a blue gown, flowers of the same colour in her hair − curiosity forced him to at least glance at her and he swallowed loudly as his gaze met her violet eyes.

The colour of the Targaryens.

He froze, feeling his heart suddenly begin to beat faster, unable to look away from her irises, from her long, dark lashes and eyebrows surrounding her eyes like a sky surrounding the sun − unintentionally his gaze studied quickly her entire silhouette and face.

He swallowed with difficulty, turning his head away, realising that her figure was pleasingly girlish, she was young, too young in his eyes to be a widow − her dark hair was tied back, myosotis tucked into her curls at the sides of her head, her gown made of some thin, smooth, shiny material shimmering blue and purple at the same time.

He couldn't focus on what the Septon was saying; he only glanced at her again when Daeron handed him the cloak with which he was to cover her − her gaze fixed on him, her eyebrows arched in sorrow as if she was in pain, her eyes gleaming, slightly reddened, as if she was barely holding back tears.

He felt like asking if she was so disgusted with him, but no sound came out of his mouth.

With a stony face expressing indifference, he threw his cloak embroidered with a three-headed red dragon over her back and then took her hand in his, small and surprisingly smooth.

She didn't look at him when, in a trembling, soft voice, she repeated the words of her vows with him. He tried to remember her doing it for the second time in her life, that she was someone else's, warming someone else's bed, but he couldn't.

She seemed so innocent.

They hadn't exchanged a word during the wedding feast; he watched from the corner of his eye her demeanour, her face − she seemed to him absent, sad, ashamed.

He thought with a squeeze in his throat, filled with jealousy and envy, that she was a beautiful young woman, and someone had her before him.

He took a loud, impatient sip of wine from his cup, its tart, slightly sweet aftertaste spilling over his tongue, dulling his mind.

He felt like his head was going to burst.

They both tried to put it off for as long as they could, however, eventually his mother suggested that his spouse was surely tired and should retire to bed.

He pressed his lips together at her words, rising silently, looking at this strange, frightened girl out of the corner of his eye, her face turned towards him, her eyes open wide in terror.

"Come, wife." He hummed coldly, without emotion and heard her swallow hard − she followed him quietly as he left the hall, heading down the dark torch-lit corridors to his chamber.

He watched indifferently as her servants helped her undress from her beautiful gown, slowly untangling the curls of her hair, one of them wanted to remove the flowers from them, but he protested.

"No. The flowers are to stay. Let at least some semblance of innocence and purity remain." He sneered, saw that the corners of her mouth twitched, her eyebrows arched in pained humiliation.

He cocked his head, intrigued that she endured his words and what was happening with such humility.

He thought that if she behaved like this, perhaps he would take pity on her and actually put his child inside her, so that she could somehow regain her dignity, to be the mother of his heir.

"That's enough." He said at last, when she was left only in her nightgown, from under which he could see the outline of the pleasing shapes of her womanly body, waiting patiently until they were left alone.

She was looking somewhere far away, sad, tired, humiliated, her face, although pale, as if filled with mourning, was smooth and pleasant, the shade of her eyes seemed to him more blue in the firelight.

Proof that they shared ancestors, a common heritage.

For some reason he felt some kind of affection for her at the thought.

He got up from his seat with a loud creak of wood, walking with a slow, lazy step towards her − he saw that she twitched but did not look at him, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath, betraying her nervousness.

He walked around her, looking at her as if she were an object, assessing her figure, the shade of her hair, the shape of her face from every angle. She swallowed quietly and lifted her chin, looking at him with some kind of challenge, a decision that she would accept what was about to happen and give him no reason to mock her.

He hummed at the thought, stepping behind her, feeling her flinch all over as she felt his large hands touch her waist and then slide lower, to her womb − he felt surprised, licking his lips with his tongue, that his manhood swelled hard in his breeches when, in some sudden, involuntary reflex, her small hands grabbed his wrists, yet not stopping his movements, just trying to maintain some semblance of control over what was happening.

She let the air out of her lungs nervously, closing her eyes for a moment as his nose sank into her sweet-smelling, smooth hair, his hands stroking her lower abdomen trailing over it in tender, slow movements as if he imagined she was already carrying his child, his reason for being proud and pleased with her.

"This poor man, whose name I can't even remember, died without an heir. Why?" He whispered in her ear, a note of menace in his voice, his fingers digging into the fabric of her nightgown and her stomach, forcing her to take a step back, bumping into his throbbing manhood pushing against her buttocks. He heard her gasp softly, swallowing loudly, her body quivering in his embrace.

"The will of the Gods." She replied softly, her voice melodious, warm, pleasant to his ear. He hummed again, acknowledging her answer, his hands again beginning to stroke her womb in an unhurried, tender gesture.

"Why would I need a wife who won't give me an inheritance? Hm?" He asked in a tone as if he was curious and intrigued − he felt her whole body tense up in fear knowing that he was mocking her.

She drew in air loudly, suddenly tightening her fingers on his arm as his hand slid lower, between her thighs, the tips of his fingers began to brush her there with calm, steady strokes.

His free hand rose higher, to her neck, tightening around it warningly when he felt her buttocks begin to rub against his length, feeling a pleasant wave of heat surge through his spine and lower abdomen. He looked down at his fingers between her thighs, even through the material feeling the moisture leaking through it.

"A wife is a gift. Like a sword, a book or a horse." She cooed softly, responding with a rocking of her hips to the touch of his fingers. He involuntarily chuckled at her words, charmed that she understood exactly his approach, that her mind was not obscured by bottomless female fantasies, but stood in reality.

"Why would I need a chipped sword, an empty book, or a blind horse?" He asked lowly, his hand from her neck moved higher − his fingers cupped her cheeks, forcing her to turn her head towards him, to look at him, her violet eyes misty, bright, beautiful.

She smiled and giggled softly, startling him completely, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"It's amusing to hear you speak about blindness, husband. I hope the lack of your eye doesn't bother you anymore." She whispered with a satisfaction that made him snort in fury − she squealed quietly and closed her eyes as his fingers dug into her cheeks and shook her, as if he wanted her to come to her senses and remember who she was standing in front of.

"You are nothing, whore. Do you understand? Nothing. A worn-out cup to be filled with seed. I don't have an eye, but I do have a fucking dignity that my mother deprived me of by forcing me to marry a creature like you." He hissed, shaking her head violently once in a while, wanting it to get into her little empty head what he had just said.

She looked at him with hatred, her gaze seeming darker, more dangerous to him, her tongue hitting her palate with a quiet click of her saliva as she whispered a single word in his direction.

"Pathetic."

He didn't even know when his hand tightened in her hair, slamming her head against the table that stood in front of them forcing her to lean forward with a violent gesture − she squirmed loudly and cried out, clenching her fingers on the tabletop as she tried to catch her balance − he kicked her ankle with his foot forcing her to spread her thighs wider.

"You like it rough, hm? You find yourself better at being a whore than a wife? Very well then." He growled, his free hand undoing the buckles of his tunic, untying his breeches quickly, releasing his throbbing erection, giving it a few sure squeezes at the base, for some reason what was happening, their quick, rapturous breaths aroused him even more.

"Fucking male pride. Take what you want, you won't break me." She hissed with such hateful envy that he chuckled out loud, somehow impressed by how brazen she was.

"There's a little dragon burning inside you, isn't it? We shall see. I'm a man full of patience." He sneered, lifting her nightgown up in an impatient motion, exposing what was between her thighs, her rosy, puffy folds glistening with her moisture.

She pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back the sound of discomfort as he pushed against her, forcing the fat, pink head of his cock between her tight walls. He sighed heavily, feeling how wonderfully she clenched around him on all sides, hot and surprisingly soft.

"− fuck −" He gasped out, spreading her thighs wider with his leg − she cried out loudly as he sank all the way into her with one sure thrust, her fleshy muscles throbbing againt him in panic.

They both began panting loudly as, in some subconscious, natural reflex, he began to pound into her with the impatient, aggressive stabs of his hips.

"− fucking whore −" He growled angrily, clamping his hand painfully tight on her hair, her mouth parted wide in a helpless moan as he suddenly quickened his pace, looking down, feeling a wonderful thrill of elation at the sight of his manhood opening her slick folds wide again and again with deep, brutal thrusts of his hips.

"− bastard −" She cried out, responding however to the pushes of his hips with a fierceness from which his voice stuck in his throat. He was no longer sure, groaning low with pleasure, feeling the way her walls squeezed him wonderfully, sucking him inside, whether what they were saying was true or just a test of strength and dominance, an attempt to establish who would have the last word.

"− shut the fuck up − to think you still have the strength to babble − shall I put it in your mouth so you'll finally be quiet? −" He snorted through clenched teeth, gripping his free hand over the soft, smooth skin of her firm buttocks, slamming into her like mad.

It seemed to him that they were both moaning and panting too loudly, as if they were in some kind of frenzy, his thighs slapping against her bare skin with a sticky smack again and again, barely sliding out of her.

"− fuck − o-oh fuck, stop −" He gasped out as he felt her muscles suddenly clench greedily against his manhood at his words, intensifying his sensations. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he heard sweet, loud moans of fulfillment begin to erupt from her throat, her body trembling all over − she whimpered when he didn't slow down, chasing his own fulfilment.

"− I know − fuck, just a moment longer − shhh −" He hushed her and groaned low, sighing in relief when he felt that wonderful, relaxing feeling, bliss in his mind and whole body, delight as his seed spilled deep inside her, right where it belonged.

His hips rocked inside her a moment longer with her mumble of displeasure, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged, her fingers trailing over the table top as if she couldn't calm down.

"− it's alright − easy − it's alright −" He whispered, panting heavily, stroking her soft hair with slow, tender gesture, her eyebrows arched in pain as she wept loudly, tears one after another began to run down her face.

He wasn't sure if she was crying from relief that she had it behind her or from grief that she had to go through this again.

"− I know − I know −" He hummed, running his fingers over her smooth, dark curls, for some reason feeling the need to reassure her, fulfilled and content after what had happened between them, his half-soft manhood still twitching deep inside her, all slick from their shared moisture.

"− I don't blame you, wife − that man was weak, as was his seed − you will soon bear me a son −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #aemond smut #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x oc #aemond x female #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x original character #aemond x original female character #aemond targaryen smut #aemond kinslayer #aemond the kinslayer #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #hotd angst #hotd smut #targaryen smut #aemond fanfic

[churipu]

Hey! May I request headcanons with Choso in which his s/o is like him, half human half cursed. Like their dynamic, if he’s protective, etc.

I also saw no req rules so I apologize in advance if this made you uncomfortable in anyway.

Thank you and have a great day/night🫶

CHOSO + HALF CURSED PARTNER

featuring. choso kamo x reader

warnings. choso and yuuji having sibling dynamics

note. hi anon, so sorry for how late i posted this. and don't worry about the request omg i find myself thinking about this a lot <33 bcs yeah, what if choso has a partner who is half cursed like he is? i hope you like this one! <33

CHOSO is delighted to have a half-human, half-cursed partner like him.

i feel like he's going to be extra protective of you, like he is with yuuji (maybe a tad bit more). since he won't be able to sense if you're in danger or if you're near death like how he could sense his brother's, i feel like he's going to give you extra attention.

"cho, what are you doing?" you found yourself asking him in confusion as he was baby-proofing the whole house.

everything sharp: table edges, counter edges, kitchen island edges, you name them all. choso puts a rubber on the corner so you wouldn't get hurt when he's not there to look after you.

"keeping you safe." he mutters out in concentration, earlier in the day he had asked yuuji for help with these baby-proofing materials — and of course, yuuji thought that both you and choso were having a baby.

in reality, you were the baby.

"but i am safe?"

"not when i'm not around."

i feel like you and choso would have the "dumb" x "dumber" dynamic. since you're both half-human and half-curse (heavy on working as a curse because i could see you both working with mahito and so as a result, you both lose experience on living like a normal human being), yuuji has to keep you both up on what to do sometimes.

"what were you both thinking? she could've called the authorities on us!" yuuji yells out, a little breathless as he had dragged both you and choso out of the park.

"she was being mean to you," you shrugged, looking away.

"it was my fault!" yuuji scratches his head exasperatedly, "i bumped into her and spilled her coffee."

"still, she was mean to you, brother." choso mumbles.

"we were protecting you, yuuji."

yuuji called nobara and megumi for help to look after you both after that.

choso gets angry at anything who tries to harm you. by anything, i mean even dead objects. you accidentally cut yourself with a knife? the next day the knife is no longer there. you accidentally bumped into the door? choso would pick a fight with the door. or if you were walking down the streets with him and a speck of dust makes you sneeze? i swear he fights the air when you're not looking.

"cho, look. i pricked myself," you proudly presented your index finger which was messily wrapped with a bright yellow colored bandage with rabbit motives all around it.

choso's eyes widened slightly, "who did it?"

you blinked at him, "nobody. i accidentally pricked myself with a knife earlier."

choso squints his eyes at you, "which knife was it?"

oh god, please — if he starts asking you those kind of question, tell him a lie that you threw the knife away so he won't have to do it. quick tip: don't tell him it's nothing or you're fine, because i swear choso will throw the whole knife set away behind your back just minutes after.

i could see choso being a touchy bf. so he tries to be as close to you as possible and at all times, holding hands, giving you kisses, your pinkies intertwined, anything, just let him touch you.

"are there any reasons to why you're hogging my lap?" you groan out slightly, a little burdened at the fact choso's whole body is draped across your thighs. face planted down, he's just laying there motionless.

"missed you. so much." he mutters out, his voice coming out muffled as he is laying face down, "miss your pretty face, miss your touch, miss you."

you rolled your eyes, "i was gone for fifteen minutes."

"still. i missed you."

i could also see him as an attention hogger. he wants your attention, and if you give something or someone much more attention than he's giving him, he'll do anything to try to earn your attention back. also, pretty happy when he success (which he does most of the time).

"what's wrong with you?" you ask choso, who has been sitting down, knees pulled to his chest and his face solemn.

"y'don't love me anymore?" he asks back, and you furrowed your brows in confusion to why he came up with that conclusion. no wind, thunder, rain, anything — he just asks about it out of the blue.

"why would you say that?"

"y'don't give me attention anymore." choso concludes, eyeing you and then eyeing the TV that has been on for the past two hours, hogging all your attention, "give me attention too."

he always asks you to style his hair. if you style them with cute pom-pom hairpins, he won't take them off until the end of the day (even if yuuji made fun of him for it). or if you styled his hair unevenly, he'd still leave it at that — he just wants you to style his hair. pronto.

"you kept the rabbit hairpins i used?"

choso nodded his head, "you put them on. i don't want to take them off," you can't help but to smile at him.

"did anyone make fun of you?"

"yuuji was laughing, but i assumed he finds me cute for wearing those hairpins." you chuckled a little in awe as his eyes were shining brightly talking about how yuuji finds him cute.

just, don't say anything about how yuuji was probably poking fun at him for wearing those pins.

gets you hand picked flowers. he reads somewhere once that flowers could make a partner happy — and now he brings you hand picked flowers everyday (he visits the park, finds the prettiest flowers for you and then picked a few before going home).

"flowers." he handed them to you before kicking his shoes off into a random direction.

"oh, thank you. why did you get them?" you ask him.

"because they look pretty, 'n i remembered you."

every single day, it's a different kind of flower. and if he can't find them at the park — don't even be surprised if he actually confessed about picking them from a random person's yard because they're pretty (anything for his partner).

choso loves listening to you talk and your voice in general. he'd rather listen to you talk all day than having to go out on missions, just the thought of hearing your voice makes his stomach flips. when he has to leave for a long time (a couple of hours), whether it being with yuuji or other people — he'd force them to call you so he could listen to your voice.

"hi pretty, i missed your voice."

"did you force yuuji to hand you his phone again?" choso hums, but he sounded like he didn't regret it one bit.

"y/n i swear if he doesn't get a phone, i'll buy it for him myself!" you could hear yuuji complain from the background, and then a few shuffles along with a yelp before choso has to say his goodbyes because of "circumstances" (which was just him giving yuuji a piece of his mind).

"'m gonna be back soon, miss you. i love you. bye." choso hung up, not letting you return his words back.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk choso #kamo choso #jujutsu choso #choso fluff

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: “please,” aemond begs, keeping you flush against him as he nuzzles your breasts. “allow me to make love to you, sweet girl.”

(or aemond's first time with his handmaid).

warnings: explicit lang. a tiny bit of angst at the beginning. protective!aemond. p in v smut. slight breeding kink. spitting kink towards the end. fluff. all around good vibes bc aemond's in love and we all love that for him.

notes: happy birthday to me. pls be nice to me, i'm unfortunately entering my twenties today.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Aemond spends the better part of the chilly winter day searching for his handmaid.

You had been missing when he returned to his bedchamber at midday, wishing to eat his lunch in your company. Did she forget my first rule, by chance? Aemond thought to himself, holding the chalice to his lips. Perhaps…but he could not stomach another bite of his roasted meat, his mind too consumed with thoughts of you.

So he looks throughout the kitchen wing, and the library and Great Hall, until he passes by his mother and sister in the hallway.

But neither woman claims to have seen you, and he’s left twice as confused and frustrated and concerned as he continues to wander about the Red Keep like some lovesick and anxious fool.

“Ah, my prince,” Lord Larys Strong purrs as his steps falls alongside Aemond’s. “Perchance I could be of service. I overheard you are looking for your little handmaid.”

Aemond turns to look at him. “Yes,” he answers, his eyebrow raising, “-have you seen her?”

The lord’s smile is sly. “Several hours ago, actually. She was heading up to the servant quarters…” but his smile then drops, quickly replaced with a frown, “but she seemed to be in tears, if I’m to remember correctly. Poor child, she was an awful, trembling mess, never once looking up to meet my eyes when I greeted her.”

“She was crying?” Aemond cocks his head sideways, swallowing down the ire beginning to bubble inside his chest.

“Yes. It was rather grievous and sad,” and Clubfoot shakes his head dolefully. “A maiden like her deserves a smile on her face at all times, would you not agree, my prince?”

Aemond’s jaw clenches, and he glances to the stairs leading upwards to the servant quarters. Someone made you cry? His blood turns cold, and his fist balls up at his side. Remembering where he was, he gives the lord a curt nod. “Thank you, Lord Strong,” and leaves it at that, rushing up the stairway and down the hall, whilst hundreds of questions thronged in his head.

Who dared make you cry? You, who is rightfully his- his handmaid, his woman. You were supposed to remain safe and happy within his room, tucked away from ill-tempered bastards and envious tongues. If he could not protect you…

He turns the corner, huffing. He’d see whoever made you cry is punished, Aemond decides as he walks down the strip, passing by shut door after door, until he hears fainting sobbing. A sniffle, then, and a tiny hiccup that soon follows. That stops him in his steps. You. You. You, you, you…

“Love,” he whispers, knocking his knuckles on the door before slowly cracking it open. “Love, it’s me.” You twist to meet him in sullen silence, and his heart shatters at the sight. Your pretty doe-eyes are both red and teary, and your bottom lip quivers. It’s busted too, more scarlet now than pink. But it is the ugly bruise coloring your left cheek- large and hand-shaped, that causes his eye to widen.

“Who?” he spat, crossing the room to gather you in his arms, his voice raising. “Who’s done this to you?”

But you lower your eyes, and bury your face within his neck, hiding away from his gaze and questions. Aemond softens, and his thumb gently strokes your cheek, pausing when you flinch. “My love, I need to know at once. This…this is a horrible injustice served upon you, one I know you did not deserve!”

You shake your head, face crumpling as another sob escapes you.

His eye narrows.

“Was it my brother?” Aemond demands. “Or a houseguard?”

“No,” you mumble, feeling ill, like your tummy is tied in a knot. “It was neither, my prince.”

“Well?”

You sigh. “It was one of the septas, a new one to the castle. I do not know her name,” you explain. “She caught me in your room and scolded me, saying how it was beyond disrespectful and ill-mannered of me to flaunter about your bedroom as if it was my own. She said…she said you would have my head for such, and when I tried to explain myself,” and you hiccup, feeling a wave of fresh tears, “-that I was your handmaid, she slapped me!”

“She said I would have your head? That I would kill you?”

You nod, wiping away the few fat tears streaking down your cheek, wincing at the slight sting from the bruised skin. “She said she would bring it up with the Queen herself, that there was no need for insolent little maids like me running around the castle. Oh, I’m so sorry, my prince. I’m terribly sorry. Please, please, please forgive me!”

But Aemond’s thumb brushes lightly across your plump lip, shushing you. “Those words should never fall from these lips, sweetling. They were not made for that.” You feel like crying again, this time from relief.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my love. I couldn’t even imagine…” his voice trails off. How could this septa easily plant a seed of doubt within your mind, and make you think he would ever harm you? Or call for your death? As if you’re not the very air he breathes every day.

“You terrified me when I could not find you earlier, love.”

By now, you’re a lot calmer and breathing fine again, nestled within his embrace. Your cheek still stings but you’ll live. You lay your head against Aemond’s chest, listening to his faint heartbeat in his breast. Thump, thump, thump.

No more words are shared between the two of you, but his kiss on your temple says much more than anything could.

Soon, Aemond takes you back to his bedchamber, to his tub, and calls for several women to tend to you while he busies himself in burning the servant garb you were wearing today, until nothing is left but sooty ashes and singed cloths. He refuses to allow you to wear that shabby, tainted dress you were so wrongfully punished in. If not for you, then for himself. It eases his mind. And someday you’ll wear nothing but the finest and prettiest gowns, he swears, ones that are fit for no one but a princess.

He’ll have a talk with his mother too. His queen mother has a soft spot for his handmaid, he knows, and Helaena too. This will not go unseen and unpunished.

The prince returns when your bath is finished, and dismisses the women before carrying you off to his featherbed. You’re still quiet, hushed, lips pressed in a tight line while he dries your hair. “You do not need to do this, my prince,” you tell him softly, nervously lacing your fingers together. “I’m undeserving of such treatment, really. It should be I who does this for you.”

“Nonsense, sweetling.”

He’ll be your husband one day, and is merely practicing his husbandly duties, although he doesn’t actually say that piece aloud. It’s all a bit tricky right now, but he’s already decided he will not marry anyone who isn’t you.

Aemond bends to kiss your shoulder, ever so tenderly. You have four pretty birthmarks littering the skin, and he presses a sweet kiss atop all of them. He loves it. You’re so fucking gorgeous. “You’re mine,” he mumbles, nuzzling his forehead against your shoulder blade. “It’s my duty to care for you.”

“No, my prince, ‘tis my duty as your servant.”

He smiles up at you. “Ah, and I’m your protector, best to remember that, sweet girl.” And he leaves nothing more to be said, quickly standing you up in front of him, naked and breathing messily and too shy to meet his eye. Oh, but you’re too pretty for your own good, he tells himself. His fingertips gently trace along your hipbones while he leans to nuzzle his face into your tummy. Aemond then feels your soft hands finding his hair, fingers raking through as you sigh deeply.

“You smell good,” he whispers. “So damn good.”

You giggle. “Do I, my prince?”

Aemond hums, raising his face up to kiss your nipple- once, twice, thrice. He feels you suddenly tense against him, your breath catching in your throat. “Nice and warm and all mine,” he adds, blowing a puff of warm air over your breast that earns him a sweet little moan, one that sends blood rushing down to his cock. His arms circle around your waist, hands falling to knead your asscheeks.

“Let me make love to you.”

“My prince?” you ask, eyes widening as you recoil from your prince’s touch, your legs suddenly feeling weak like water.

Did you hear him right?

“Please,” Aemond begs, keeping you flush against him as he nuzzles your breasts. “Allow me to make love to you, sweet girl.” I see my future in your face. My children in your eyes. His hand cups your right breast, catching a hard nipple between two fingers. My sons at your breasts. His handmaid has come for him, to deliver to him everything he’s been so cruelly denied in this life. “Say yes,” he murmurs. “Let me finally claim you as mine own.” It is your blood I need, your blood on my sheets, and my seed in your belly, and your life and name as my own.

You close your eyes, yet still see your handsome prince grinning at you.

It’s wrong, you think. It’d be so wrong of us. I’d be banished.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

“Okay, my prince,” you say, with a bated breath. “Make love to me.”  

An hour later, the wind has risen to a sharp howl against the stone walls, and fat raindrops ping against the windowpane. A winter storm, but there is little to no need to worry about such.

You’re quite nicely warm and dry, and safe within your prince’s arms as he nudges your thighs open. He’s already been down there, spending a good half of the last hour feasting on your wet cunt. It was like he’d been fasting for weeks; he took little mercy on you.

“Open wide,” he mutters. “Good girl. Keep ‘em like that for me.”

You whimper. Your Prince Aemond is gorgeous, with silver hair that shines like fresh snow and pale, naked skin that is covered in faint scarring, undoubtedly from boyhood. You’ve never seen someone so beautiful. His arms are thickened with lean, lithe muscle as he holds himself above your body, one hand laced firmly in yours.

And he looks down at you with bright, violet eyes, with a look perhaps only a man gives his new bride on her wedding night.

It makes you squirm beneath him.

He slides his cock in slowly, hissing at your tightness. “FUCK.” His head dips down near yours, lips barely grazing your ear as he lets out a low moan. “Gods be fucking good, you feel so fucking good…wrapped around my fucking cock, at last,” he says, voice raspy. “Right where you belong.”

Aemond feels that he won’t last long. He’s back to the days of his boyhood, during his thirteenth nameday when Aegon took him to the whorehouse, and he felt a woman’s touch for the first time.

Except now he has the woman he wants- soft and submissive and cunny wet and ready for him- and it is his turn to teach and guide her.

“Ah, my brave girl,” he tells you, pausing to kiss your forehead, then your swollen, pink lips. “It hurts, I know. It’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

And afterward, Aemond Targaryen’s watching as you shake and sob and fall to utter pieces, your beautiful face scrunched up in blissful pleasure as his thrusts soon quicken, and his hips snap into yours with such a harsh pace, it’s sure to leave dark bruises behind.

Your hands find his shoulders in a tight grip, in some desperate attempt to cling onto him whilst he fucks you good.

And, thankfully, it’s his name that tumbles out of your mouth, and not his stupid royal title. It follows your cries and moans and whimpers that echo throughout his bedchamber. To Aemond, it is poetic in some way. Several months back you were seated on his settee, singing, and now you’re buried within his sheets as he makes you a mother.

His loins ache for release, and he fondles your breast, toying with your nipple as he pounds you only harder. Aemond hopes to any god listening that the guards outside are listening in, and the serving girls too. He’s a prince of the realm- he means to claim all his rights. Let them all hear as he plows into his handmaid and stuffs her full of his sons.

Beneath him, you shudder and gasp- again and again- before arching your spine and flinging your arms around his neck. “AEMOND,” you scream, feeling a sudden tightness deep within your belly, almost like you’re only several seconds away from exploding into flames. Perhaps you are.

“Mercy on me, Aemond! Please!”

“Shhh,” Aemon coos, cradling your face as he fucks you through your orgasm. “I have you, pretty girl. You’re okay. Doesn’t this feel good? It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Ah, so- so good, Aemond…!”

He grins at your fucked-out face, and the little bit of drool pooling around the corner of your mouth, before lightly tapping his fingertip against your bottom lip. “Open up,” he commands, squeezing your cheeks together, when your mouth opens, he spits in it. “Now swallow- mmm, such a good girl, always doing what I say.”

Aemond chooses all his words carefully, loving the way his sweet little handmaid preens under all his given attention and praises, so prettily that he’s willing to discard all of his morals and seed her full of his future bastards. Silver-haired babes that would gurgle at him happily, and grow to carry on his name and legacy.   

For her, he thinks, leaning to kiss you again, feeling your cunt clamping down on him, she’s worth every damn thing and more.

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hair Dye Extravaganza

(Hello, this may suck but bear with me as this is the first Tokio Hotel I have done so far! Please tell me if you would like more Bill or Tom in the comments!)

Requested: No

"Bill!"

"Hm?" Bill hummed as he heard his name, walking in the doorway to the bathroom to see you with boxes in your hand.

"Wanna help me dye my hair?" You asked, looking at him through the mirror as you got the bottles ready.

"Sure, what color?" Bill nodded with a smile, taking the bottle and shaking it as you showed him the box.

"Just fixing up my old one." You shrugged, Bill gesturing for you to sit down on the edge of the tub as he put on gloves.

"You made a great decision coming to me." Bill joked with a smile, pulling the glove band to make a slapping sound in his wrist.

"I regret this already." You sighed, Bill shushed you before he squirted the dye on your hair, his eyes widening as he put too much.

"Bill, what did you do?" You asked, trying to look back at him, moving your head as some dye slipped off your head and onto the floor.

"Trust the process." Bill grabbed your head, moving it to face away from the mirror and dye on the floor.

"Ow- Asshole, you're pulling my hair." You slapped his arm from where you could, the boy laughing as he dodged your attack as he ran his fingers through your hair to get the dye in.

"It'll look good after, trust me." Bill messed up your hair, styling it with the dye in it to make a mohawk as you sat there.

"You're making knots!" You yelled, laughing at Bill as he took off his gloves. 

"How long do we wait?" You asked, Bill looking on the back of the box as you put your head over his shoulder to see.

"Shit, that's cold." Bill jumped away from you, when you put your head on his shoulder the dye from your hair had touched his neck.

"It's in my hair, I know it is." You shook your head, Bill pushing your face away with his hand.

"It says thirty minutes. We can wait that long." Bill nodded, reading over the directions.

"Your hands are stained." You noticed, Bill looking at you confused before he looked down and saw his hands, despite being gloved, were now dyed to match your hair.

"How do I get this out?! My hands look like a goddamn explosion." Bill ran his hands under the water, trying to scrub off the dye as you laughed at him.

"Have fun." You waved over your shoulder, a towel around your shoulders as you walked over to your room to annoy Tom while the dye went through.

~~~~~~~

"You're drowning me!" 

"Shut up and let me do my job!" You and Bill bickered, you were leaning over the tub as he sprayed your hair with the hose-type shower head.

"It's cold! It's cold!" You yelled when the water suddenly turned cold, reaching for the knob to turn it hotter.

"You're gonna burn yourself and you'll be the one to drown." Bill grabbed your arm, practically wrestling with you to get the dye out.

"Close your eyes and hold your breath." Bill ordered, noticing as the dye seeped over to your eyes.

"What-" you tried to look at him before you were stopped as he sprayed your face with the shower head.

"You're trying to fucking murder me!"

"I'm not!" 

Tom walked by the bathroom, the door open so he could see inside.

He gave you both barely a glance, walking past before he abruptly did a double take at his brother water-boarding you.

"What did they do?" Tom asked, laughing as Bill tried to get the dye out of your hair, making the water turn colored as you almost entirely soaked.

"They won't stay still." Bill said as you guys looked up, Tom had to stop and try not to laugh at the sight of you completely soaked and sitting between his brother's legs.

"The dye! The dye!" Bill yelled as some dye got on his pants, panicking and spraying your hair, forgetting you weren't leaning over the tub.

"Yo! You'd suck as a hairstylist!" 

Tom closed the bathroom door on you guys, standing there for a moment and contemplating before ultimately deciding to leave you guys be.

~~~~~~

"This better?" Bill asked as he stood beside you, your eyes closed as he blow dries your hair.

"Considering you almost killed me, it is." You shook your head at Bill, the oncoming headache about to be killer.

"I did great though. It looks nice." Bill smiled, kissing the side of your head as he ran a brush through your hair and dried it.

"It better, considering what I went through." You said, sitting there almost impatiently as he finished drying your hair.

"It looks nice. Look." Bill smiled at his work, helping you stand up and giving you a mirror he used to do his makeup with.

"Hey, it actually does." You nodded, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you ran your hand through your newly dyed hair.

"See? I do a great job." Bill smiled, hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek.

You smiled, pulling your head away from him as he tried to get you to come back, grabbing your sides to get you to laugh.

"Your methods are questionable, Bill." 

"But they get the job done."

You guys then stopped, freezing as you heard a yell come from the bathroom.

"What the fuck- who did this too the bathroom?!"

#tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #imagine #tom kaulitz imagines

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN] ❞

request by lovely detailing anon pairing: spencer reid x reader. summary: a date for your brother's wedding brings you more than you could ever hope for. content warnings: i think none, but feel free to tell me! very fluffy stuff ahead though. word count: 1,1k+

the first thing you told your mother when she began yapping about how you needed a date for the wedding was that she didn't need to worry, you got your girls! surely one of them would have an eligible bachelor to accompany you. you had the girls from work, two from college and even your sister-in-law could definitely help you out without the obnoxious interference of your mother.

sadly enough, as the ceremony got closer and closer the more spectacularly did the blind dates fail you. you insisted with the bau girls you did not want anyone from the bureau, emily tried with an old friend who worked in politics. completely boring and in severe need of a model trophy wife his parents approved of.

pen tried to set you up with some guy she met doing theater, he was fascinated by your job. too fascinated, like you were some character of a play that he needed to analyze, and if that wasn't bad enough, the ones you were set up by your civilian girls weren't any better, they were in fact worse. trembling the moment you told them you were an agent.

"i'm going alone, won't tell my mom that though." you finish the conversation leaving the reports from the last case on your desk. i'ts saturday morning and fortunately, you were back in time for your brother's wedding, no chance to skip it and blame it on work for this and already running back to the elevator, asking spencer to hold the doors for you.

"i can be your date, for the wedding, i mean." his voice sounds almost nonchalant, if not for a bit higher in pitch. you feel your face warm up at the idea, surely if you had enough courage in your personal life as you showed in the field, you would've asked him months before, but apparently fate was on your side.

"really? i don't want to disturb you, i—" you shake your head softly, trying to be less avoidant, you wanted him to go, he offered to go. "i would really like that, actually."

"i'm happy to. this way you're at least guaranteed someone who isn't afraid of fbi female agents." the way his shoulders shrug up and his nose moves in a soft crunch makes your heart swell. "historically bridesmaids were to dress the same as the bride to deceive evil spirits—" he's interrupted by the elevator doors opening, but you both keep the same pace as you leave the building, wanting to keep talking to each other. "though surely you won't be dressing in white, what color are you wearing should i match my tie to it?"

"that's very thoughtful, spen." too thoughtful even, you might just swoon if you don't control yourself. "it's black tie required for bridal party dates actually, is that okay?"

"i can arrange that." even if he didn't have a black tie attire at home already, which he did, spencer would rent one if he had to, he wouldn't be happy about it, but he would do whatever necessary.

his eyes glance from your dress to your fidgeting fingers a few times before speaking up. "you're nervous." he knows that's not the first thing he should be saying after seeing you all dressed up, but he can't help it.

"oh—sorry, i'm just worried about my family meeting you." you didn't even think about your choice of words, not paying attention to the way it made spencer flinch, his smile falling instantly.

"do you want me to be less... me? i can try." eyes widened up, you shake your head quickly, hands going to his chest in what you believed was a comforting manner.

"i want them to be less... them. you're great, perfect even. they can be kind of rude, that's all." perfect even. his smile quickly comes back to his face, placing his own hands over yours with a squeeze.

"unrelated but, you look great, perfect even." his repeating of your words makes you laugh, spinning around to show him the full look before thanking him. he looks stunning, dashing even, but you feel like the way your eyes can't look away from him for long might show him that.

you were right to be worried about your family, a bunch of drunk alpha males who didn't believe the work you did in the fbi weren't the most friendly bunch to spencer, but he had his fun responding to their jabs with knowledge and sarcasm, checking your reactions every time and always getting a laugh in response.

your mother seemed to like him though, saying you two were a great match, which you tried to deny, shrug it off since you two were just friends and you somehow knew your mom would like anyone you took as long as you didn't show up alone again to a family event.

as he held you close to dance, spinning you around and making you dizzy from all the champagne, and as his hands stopped at your hips to look at you, you wished to yourself you truly were a great match, and that he felt it as much as you, and the saw it as much your family saw it.

by the end of the night he was the one holding your heels, your bag and your scarf while calling a taxi to the venue to pick you both up. happily laying your head on his shoulder the whole way back to your apartment.

spencer had to accompany you back into your place, he wasn't about to leave you by the building's entrance or the elevator, it was only reasonable to help you all the way through.

for you, it was only reasonable to ask him to spend the night, your couch was comfortable enough especially after a whole night of dancing and walking around trying to keep up with you. it was only reasonable for him to accept it.

"hey spen..." you had gone to your bedroom to find anything comfortable for him to wear, coming back only minutes later, still dressed up. "thanks for today, i had a great time." you say handing him the pijama bottoms you thought could fit him.

"i always have a great time with you." his hands brush lightly against yours and you feel a shiver down your spine, gluing your eyes to his in hopes he felt it too.

in a second he's placing his hands on your neck, kissing you with lust of at least months of yearning, taking your breath away and making you enjoy the lack of oxygen and control. you don't even have to think about reciprocating it, no hesitance, like you have been always at the ready for it and you bite his lower lip the second he tries to pull away.

"i always have a great time with you too." you whisper waiting to have an even greater time with him, the smirk on his lips showing you he hoped for the same.

#lari writes sometimes #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer x reader #reid x reader #reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #reid imagine #reid scenario #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Primal Urges/// Sun Wukong x Reader x Macaque NSFW

tags/kinks: predator vs prey, primal play, voice kink, overstimulation, power play, light restraints, oral sex, rough sex, bondage, marking, obedience training, double penetration, squirting, dirty talk, aftercare, possessiveness, possession, consensual sex, blow job, multiple orgasms, praise kink, choking

“What do you mean I’ve gotten too used to being safe?! Isn’t that a good thing?” You stared at your lovers with an incredulous expression and they gave you a look that said you weren’t getting out of this, internally thanking the weather for being nice. Wukong nodded and waved his hands in a so-so manner. “Yeah, it is great you feel safe but you won’t always have us to save you, sunshine. What would you do if you got into a fight with a powerful demon like Spider Queen and her lackeys or our brother Peng?-“ The shadow demon sitting on Sun’s shoulders interrupted with a laugh while he continued to groom his mate’s tangled hair and rolled his gold eyes to spare a glance at you.

“That poor excuse of a warrior is coward but he is good in combat when it comes down to a fight. I’ll give him that.” Now shifting his attention completely to you, “Peaches is right though, you need to learn more than basic defense.” You knew some pretty good self-defense techniques from a class you took and with the help of the shadow peach duo and their knowledge of weapons plus combat experience. They weren’t wrong but it still hurt to hear that even if it was the truth. But something told you this wasn’t going to be normal training, the way both of their eyes lit up with anticipation and poofy tails swayed dangerously from side to side.

Sighing tiredly, you leaned against the rocky mountainside and nodded your head. “Fine, but what type of training is it this time.” The ginger looked up at the midnight-colored monkey and seemingly made silent communication with each other before turning back to you, grinning wildly at the fantasies going through their own minds and lowly chuckling. The king spoke up attempting to hide his eagerness, “We’re going to be playing a game of chase. You, sunshine, are going to try to escape from us and we’re going to be chasing after you.”

……Yeah, this definitely wasn’t a double entendre or anything, but being able to outrun your opponent helps you get more time for strategizing an attack or finding help, and your endurance could use some work. However, being that your goal was to evade some of the most powerful beings you knew, how did they think you stood a chance against them? “How is this fair? You both are-” Macaque interrupted and sat up straight, “Crazy powerful? There’s a catch for us too, lotus.” Leaning back off the king’s shoulders and letting gravity pull him towards the earth, causing panic to instinctively shoot through your veins.

He unknowingly (to you at least) appeared behind you via shadow portal and got close to your ear, whispering the rest of his sentence against the flushed shell of your ear and noticing you shiver and jump at the close proximity. “We can use any of our abilities. Means Wukong will not be allowed to use any of his powers including flying and I along with the same rule will dampen my hearing to about normal range for demons using this talisman.” You were speechless at first at the opportunity and although it was clear to the three of you that something else was at play you couldn’t pass this up, staring at the strip of inked paper held between his clawed fingers and nodding with a sure grin.

“I’m game, moonlight. How could I pass up this chance when something tells me it’s going to be worth it?” Wukong flicked his tail back and forth, rolling on the balls of his feet before getting closer to you wrapping his arms around your waist. The smile on your face was infectious as it spread to your boyfriend, he closed the distance between you both and cuddled against your chest.

It was evident that even though he was still sleepy he had energy to burn with the way his ears twitched and tail rapidly flicked back and forth. Wukong breathed in your scent and blissfully dug his claws into your cotton shirt, his voice deep and still new from the morning. “It’ll be worth it. If you manage to evade even one of us then you’ll be rewarded but if one of us catches you then we get rewarded.”

“Why do you both get rewarded for tackling me when it’s training for me?” Partially laughing at the usual absurdity that came with courting these two and leaning your head against Macaque's shoulder behind you. “Because your beloved mates get so tired from chasing you around isn’t only right you tend to us?” Glad to know he was still dramatic.

“Just the other day we spent hours in the hot springs while I groomed your fur until it was pristine which I loved because you let me sleep when you carried me out. I’ve been with you two for the past week and I have no issues with it but you both get enough coddling from me.” You rolled your eyes, enjoying the warmth they both provided before a question popped into your head.

“Where are we going to do this though? On the mountain?” The king picked you up bridal style and carried you while you all got to the destination, walked through a nearby forest path, and chirped at some nearby monkeys who were eating their breakfast. Eventually, you were both led to a clearing where a new structure stood, very clearly planted recently evident by the fresh dirt or magically grown seeing as this wasn’t here as far as you knew yesterday. “Nevermind…”

This answered your question as you “walked” toward the tall bush maze and first noticed how you could barely see through the hedges, no matter how hard you looked or how close you got it was like trying to look through solid concrete. You hopped out of Wukong’s arms and brushed your hands against the tiny pointed leaves then turned to them, wondering how this was done. “How-” “I called in a favor.”

Who in the world owes your boyfriend a favor….best not to worry about it for now. Pushing your arms above your head you started to stretch, moving from your arms and core to your legs and calves. The reaction you got to warming up your hamstrings was not so shocking as you were standing up and folding yourself forward to hug your legs. “Yeah! Keep that stretch for a minute or two, looks good from here-” Meaning your ass was unintentionally facing them.

You grabbed two small stones and flicked them at both demons, knowing that although only Sun made the comment Macaque was definitely thinking the same if not worse seeing as he was quiet right now. “Ow! What’d you hit me for I didn’t do anything.” You huffed and slowly stood back up. “I know you were thinking the same Macaque!” From behind you, you heard the monkey mutter about how you still have good aim at least.

Soon enough you were drawing a line the sand that was the starting line and put your foot on it focusing on your breath control. In order to keep a good headway you needed to get into the right mindset and that meant ignoring all the possible things both men would attempt to make you screw up. “OK ok. I got this. Use the hug left or right method.” The wind cooling down your skin being warmed by the sun and the chirping of nearby critters who wouldn’t cause any problems, the still and tall leafy walls in front of you seemed more intimidating now that you were facing off with it.

Wukong whistled to catch your attention and gave you a thumbs up, lining himself and Macaque up behind you holding a phone timer. “We’re gonna give you a 10-second head start and then go after you. That sounds good, Name?” You nodded and prepared to count down mentally.

All of your thoughts buzzed around in your head, anxious to get started and burn off the energy bouncing around in you. “Start!” Hearing that one word triggered you to start sprinting immediately hugging the right wall, your hand outstretched so you could feel the hedge as you kept track of where you were.

Four ways. Right turn. Long sprint. “Just keep doing this. Focus.” A familiar deep laugh echoed from the shadows in the next right turn you were about to take and forced you to stop on your heels. Popping off in the other direction on instinct with the adrenaline fueling your legs to run faster and attempt to ignore the smooth voice luring you onto a wrong path.

“Fuck. Why does his voice have to be so hot?!” You harshly whispered and groaned as quietly as you could, continuing to run until you heard footsteps in the path next to you and leading to the opening coming up on your right. “Sweetheart, had I known you loved my voice so much I would’ve teased you till my voice went hoarse but something tells me you’ll be the one losing your voice when I get my hands on you.” Your heart rate skyrocketed and you cursed yourself.

Why did that bastard have to have six ears and an incredible sense of hearing?! “It’s hard for me to focus when such a sweet fragile mortal is ripe for the taking. Am I right, bud?” Macaque. Wait- Bud? Had Sun already caught up to you?!

You whipped your head behind you before shifting your momentum to push the next right turn, hopefully putting yourself back on track. There was no one right behind you and nothing you could hear yet unless he was purposely being silent to sneak up on you. Think, what would he do in this situation? Besides transforming into another animal and he would attack from a blind spot! Your next action was immediate as you flipped backward so your back was to the hedge and took off in a sprint like your life depended on it.

“You’re right, moonshine. They look delightful and they’re clever too, predicting our next actions.” In the corner of your eye, you locked gazes with his red sclera and gold eyes for a split second before you turned around. Guessing he dropped his glamour for a moment to try to scare you and not did it not work, it had the opposite effect of slightly arousing you in addition to the thrill of being chased by two predators but your lovers. The thought of your reward, if you succeeded, didn’t leave your mind.

The exit was just ahead you could feel it and the pair were gaining on you, another right turn and you’d be done. “Almost there-” You jumped just before the exit and your heart soared at the fastly approaching accomplishment. “Aw, you almost had it, sweetheart.” Two bodies slammed into you, one of them shielding your body from getting bruises on the ground and the other on top of you effectively trapping you in a sandwich. Fuck.

Macaque, who was the one beneath you, cooed at your attempt and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And you were so close too. Too bad but this means we get our reward.” Tightening his grasp on you as Wukong took your hands and pinned them to the grass below you. He got close to your ear and whispered, the beat of your heart practically could be heard from outside your body. “Okay, what do you two want?”

Your lovers looked back and forth between themselves before slipping their hands under your clothes and squeezing your flushed sweaty skin. “To fuck you raw.” A chill was sent down your spine as you looked up to see borderline predatory eyes staring you up and down like a meal. Their tails flicked around eagerly awaiting your answer and you felt feel Macaque place kisses up the side of your neck, his dick slowly becoming hard against your lower back.

“O-Okay.” A part of you wasn’t shocked but another part of you was still catching up from the adrenaline intoxicating your body. The shadow demon spoke up from beneath you, rubbing comforting circles on your waist. “You don’t have to lotus. We can do this another time.” Neither of them wanted to pressure you into a situation you didn’t want but clearly, you were game if the slow roll of your hips against both of their groins had anything to say.

“Mhmm- Alright, sunshine. If that’s how you wanna play, bring it. Remember our safeword?” You nodded and whispered it to them, squirming at both erections pressing against you but not hard enough to give you pleasure. Soft moans filled the air and you tried your best to grind against either of them to no avail as Macaque kept your hips still in a steel grip. “Moonlight, please. Let me move, I’ll do anything.”

Perhaps bargaining would have worked had they not worked their primal urges up by chasing you but they already knew this would be the end result from the start. Wukong kept your wrist tight held in one hand while the other palmed your clothed pussy, teasing it with pinches and his claws using their sharpness to graze your clit.

Determined to draw moan after moan from you till you indeed lost your voice. Macaque spoke directly in your ear, his hot breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “I want you to beg about how you want us to fuck you and how you’ll cum to my voice. You’re our slut after all.” Your arousal grew more at his degrading and true words, your lover's deep raspy voice caused your pussy to throb and your hips to involuntarily spasm. The clothes on your body needed to come off and you’d do anything to do get an orgasm from them or any touch down there.

“Macaque Sun, ugh~ I want you to fuck me,” His hand slipped up to your nipples and pinched them, “How?” Another lewd moan left your lips and your head arched back. “I want you to fuck me with your cocks. I need them in me and I want them to fuck me until I can’t walk. Ahh~” You strained your hands against Wukong’s grip, “I’m going to cum to your voice. I love your voice, love. It's deep, rich, and calming.” The shadow rolled your nipple in his hands and moved his hand to grip your ass.

He knew how you loved to relax to it and when he hummed or let an occasional moan slip during sex. It wasn’t the first time he’d been told this but hearing over and over again from the people he craved the most was music to his ears. “Good, good. Such a good slutty mate. What do you think, Sun?”

His partner hadn’t stopped rubbing circles on your clit and was desperately holding himself back from ripping off your clothes and fucking you raw. The king’s tail whipped behind him before curling around your upper thigh and letting out a low growl. “I think they deserved an orgasm.” You heard a rip as Wukong cut open a slit in your leggings and felt his finger harshly press against your clit. Both of them ground their cocks against your legs, frantic to get a release from their building arousal.

In seconds all the pleasure wound up in your wet cunt is released and you orgasm on Sun’s fingers. A loud moan leaked from your throat and warm juices dribbled onto his fingers. “Such a good whore for their kings.” The strength had been zapped from your body and yet you still yearned for more, pleas for yet another orgasm hit their ears. Macaque didn’t stop playing with your chest when he stopped kissing and biting your neck to glance up at Wukong.

“Hm, so greedy.” He clicked his tongue and pinched your sensitive nipple. “I think you should give us our reward if you want to cum again. Peaches?” You lifted your lidded eyes and focused on your boyfriend above you who had a smug teasing grin. “I agree. Since moonshine and I won our little game of chase you’re going to obey every order we give you. Understand?”

The same clawed hand that had played with your clit trailed up through your breast and lifted your chin so you were eye to eye with Sun. Lust clouded his eyes and there was no doubt it could be seen in yours, swallowing the thrill in the back of your throat. “Yes-” Wukong interrupted her and gripped your chin. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, my kings.” You saw his smile widen and felt yourself be lifted up with Macaque’s help, stumbling back into his chest and nodding when he whispered if you were alright. After confirmation, he voiced a command. “Strip. First yourself and then us.” This would’ve been simple since you’d done it before but your muscles ached and standing was difficult but you were high on pleasure to care.

So you slowly took off all your workout clothes and tossed them to the side, figuring that taking off all of Wukong’s clothing would take a while, and carefully moved towards him. Nearly falling when your knees decided it was good to collapse, you were caught by the monkey in front of you and he laughed softly. “Careful, sunshine. I’d love to see you on your knees but not right now.” He pressed a quick but sweet kiss to your lips as you untied his cape and lifted his heavy chest-plate armor off him which landed with a loud thud.

Then he moved to his vibrant red sash on his waist which also held up the fabric draped over his pants so that it was easy to pull off his long gold shirt, shoes, and pants till he was just left with his boxers. “I think I prefer you nude than all dressed up, my king.” You purred out and tantalizingly slowly pulled them down, testing to see if he’d break and noticing his hands form into firsts. His pretty pink cock stood hard and angry, leaking buds of precum.

Your mouth watered and you felt someone creep out of your shadow, unable to hold himself back any longer as he stroked himself through his pants seeing you strip down his boyfriend till he was naked. “Now it’s my turn, lotus.” You turned around and followed the same steps with his worn-out cape and halved kimono top which kept his hip guards up. However like before you got nice and close, leaving inches both of your lips feigning a kiss until you pulled his black long-sleeved shirt over his head.

Laughing at the annoyed groan he made and pulled his pants down along with his boxers. “Where’d you learn these tricks, Name?” His smirk crept into his voice and hands circled your waist, finally getting the kiss you withheld from him and pulling you closer. “I just learned it from someone who thinks they’re so suave.” You felt his erect cock slap against your dripping pussy and moaned at the sensation, going to plead for more when you were pushed onto your knees.

“You’re going to suck and worship my cock like the king I am, sunshine. It’s my reward after all, right?” Wukong walked from behind you next to Macaque and tilted your head up, the tip of his dick rested on your lips and prodded your mouth. Without needing an order, you opened your mouth and started giving kitten licks to the tip while your hands pumped the rest of his shaft. “Mhm~ Yeah Ngn~ That’s it. Just like that.” The stone monkey tilted his head back and gripped the back of your neck as you took his mushroom-like head into your mouth.

You didn’t notice the dark-haired monkey dip into a shadow and reappear beneath you, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your attention away from the blow job you were just starting to give. “Don’t mind me, sweetheart. I’ll just be redeeming my reward down here~” Sun’s hand on the back of your head guided your head up and down the length of his cock and you felt your nose touch his pubic bone, moaning loudly when Macaque took an experimental lick up the strip of your pussy.

He snickered at your resulting reaction which also sent pleasure through his boyfriend's dick as you let out lewd noises while you sucked his cock like a popsicle and anchored himself against your dripping cunt. Mumbles of how good you tasted and why you and your pussy belonged to him couldn’t but catch your attention, especially when you glanced down and your slick mixed with his saliva covered his mouth.

Pearly fang marked your upper thighs with hickeys and bruises to tell others you were taken by the Sixed-Eared Macaque and The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. You felt his tongue start curiously exploring what caused you to moan louder and targeted those areas, learning very quickly how to make you cum from just his tongue. “Mhmmm~ Ma- Mm” Momentarily you forgot that your mouth was full and gagged at Sun’s cock touching the back of your throat.

“Breathe through your- ngh~ nose, sunshine” Your lover managed to spit out as he staggered his breathing and gripped your hair tightly. Doing as suggested, you focused on breathing through your nose and feeling his hand intertwined with yours, giving it a squeeze and doing the same back to signal that you were alright. Macaque was still sucking on your pussy like he hadn’t had a drink in days eager to get more reactions out of you and got a chorus of moans as he hit a spot that made you see stars.

Sun’s cock was brushed by your tongue and dipped in and out of your mouth, saliva and precum cover your mouth as you messily hold back a gag reflex and whined when he thrusts into your face. Unable to hold back any longer and cupping your jaw, he apologized rapidly for being rough and getting louder and louder. “Yes- ngh~ please!! Please! I’m gonna cum!”

You rubbed circles on his hips and arched your back when the demon below you pinched your clit and sucked harshly which snapped the rising orgasm coiling in your core. “Mhm, there you are a princess! Give it all to me!” The pleasure crashing over you like a wave and crying out in euphoria. The pulses of your voice vibrating his dick and triggering his orgasm in tandem, Sun’s voice becoming high pitched and whining like a bitch in heat.

“Fuck- ‘m cumming-” Bitter warm liquid shot down your throat and coated your tongue, his penis still jolting in your warm mouth and riding out his orgasm. Sun comforting steadied his breathing and loosened his grip on your face, whispering praises and apologies for being rough. “I’m sorry if I was too rough, sunshine. Such a good mate for us…our lovely Name.”

Your other lover however wasn’t done and kept going. Determined to eat you out like it was his last meal, the shadow demon was addicted to your taste and could feed off you for days without stopping. “’m not done. I’m going to make sure that you’re unable to walk for days.” You swallowed and leaned against your king who gladly caught you.

“My kings, be gentle- mhm,” Both responded by softly kissing your neck and licking the bitemarks made all along your body. “I want you both in me! I feel empty.” Macaque chuckled and murmured something about finally being able to fulfill his promise to you. They stroked their cocks to get hard again which didn’t take long given your arousal sexual state in front of them panting and whining from overstimulation.

Slowly both demons rubbed the tips of their dicks against your sopping cunt and pushed into your hole, Wukong sweetly rubbed your labia when you hissed from the stretch. Breathing deeply and giving the okay when the pain faded, both lovers sandwiched you between them and started moving at a rhythmic pace. “Ah- fuck- So tight!”

You had already cum twice and the overstimulation was attacking your nerves like lightning. Both pain and pleasure courses through you’re body

“Hey moonlight, looks like our little slut has been fucked dumb.” Sun leaned close to your ear, giving you a show with a raspy growl and biting the skin of your collar bones harder than before. “Who do- ugh- you belong to?” Pinching the skin between his fangs His free hand trailed down to play with your chest. Macaque wrapped his hand around your neck and gripped it tight, kneeling so he could thrust into your abused cunt.

Their speed was inhuman, Sun matched it and you couldn’t speak, only letting out moans and whimpers. Feeling the wall you’d come so close to starting to crumble and barely spitting out a response when he bit harder as a warning to answer the question. “You. I’m yours!” No one would ever get close to giving as much pleasure and pure joy as they did, knowing your body like the back of their hands and safely pushing to your breaking point. “Say our names!- mhg”

Their real names, the ones only you had the privilege of screaming out in complete lust and drunk on their cocks. “I belong to Liu ‘Er Mihou and S-sun Wukong! Ahh~ I yours and only yours.” Your lovers look at you broken and sex-crazed, smirking at the flutter of your eyes as they speed up slowly racing towards their highs as well. Beautiful scars littered Macaque's chest and sweat dripped down to his toned stomach, dark fur was wet and tangled knots were visible as you looked closer.

Wukong appearance was just a disheveled, peach-colored fur no longer resembling a heart on his bare chest and red sclera contrasting his stunning gold irises. “Yes you -ah fucking are!” He pinched and groped your tits as Macaque viciously pounded into you like a bitch in heat, loud unapologetic moans and cries came from your mouth as you orgasmed. “Cumming!” Your walls sucked both of their dicks hard and contracted around their tips, devilishly begging for their cum.

“‘m cumming too-“ “Same here, peaches~” Your demons fucked you as they worked you all through your orgasms, feeling warm liquid fill your insides and slick squirting onto you and Macaque’s pelvis. Fuck you squirted. No one had been able to do that before…..it wasn’t a myth?! Harsh breathing was all you could hear for a couple of minutes, all of you shifted back to stable states and bathed in your after-sex glow.

Your pussy twitched at everything that brushed it and sent pangs of pain to your brain, pleading for a break and thankful it was often. Slowly, both of them pulled out, their breath hitching and biting their lips. “My mates. All mine.” Of course, Wukong recovered faster than others and immediately took to cuddling you all up, lifting you both gently onto his soft somersault cloud forgetting your clothes entirely.

“We all need a-“ You interrupted the shadow demon and kissed his cheek with a kind smile, “A bath? Yes, we do. That’s why I’m guessing, Peaches is bringing us to the hot springs or at least somewhere in that direction…you guys almost broke me.” You fell back against them both, hearing them chuckle and grabbing hands comfortably. He looked to where Sun was leading them and saw a familiar hot spring with homemade privacy screens surrounded by blooming willow trees.

“Just rest, sunshine. You did great at the training and nearly escaped us on the first try, that’s great! Maybe next time let’s not get carried away with the rewards” The king sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and elbowed his boyfriend, who looked offended at the comment like he hadn’t been as sex hungry. You could barely hear the cocky “No promises.” from Macaque as you were carried into the hot spring, the warm water soothing all the marks and sore muscles you had.

“You can sleep, lotus. We’ll take care of you.” Hearing that, you stopped fighting sleep and let it pull you into the depths of your unconscious. “Rest up, sunshine. We love you.”

#lmk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #lego monkie king #monkie kid macaque #lego monkie kid x reader

[jaehunnyy]

Fight club

Genre: enemies-to-lovers, brother's best friend!au, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: boxing-manager!Wooyoung x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions and a few descriptions of fights, fighting settings, mentions of blood, hits, rude people, swear words, mentions of making out, pet names, kisses, allusions to some lines from the actual movie Fight Club and to Bouncy lyrics, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @cromerteez, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @heesnovia

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

The white, wadded clouds were threatening to cover the ground in sad tears of rain as you were wandering around the strange city you were in, all because of his love for traveling. Your car's engine decided to give up in the middle of the street and there you were, looking for anything that would serve as a roof under your head for the night, until he gave you a sign. Suddenly, your eyes started to beam as you saw a rundown ‘Mtel’ sign, written in red neon lights (one letter obviously missing), one that happened to have a car service on the first floor. You ran there as fast as you could, fearing that it was gonna close or something; and as soon as you got in front of it, you started to wonder if you were in the right place. Two guys were trying to make their parrot talk or something, a few french keys and other tools scattered around the floor as they seemed to be occupied with their pet.

"Uhm… hello?" you dared to talk and get their attention, having two pairs of eyes analyzing you. "My car broke down… and you seem to work with these things so… mind helping me?"

The look they gave each other really had you confused—they were almost surprised with your request.

"Okay, I see how it i—"

"No! We can help, of course. We just… wondered how many other cars we have to repair, you know?" The taller one said, not-so-gently nudging the other one as if he wanted him to support his words.

The younger one jumped a little, smiling weakly as he nodded. "We got it!"

You still couldn't figure if they were honest or not, but you just went with it and let them handle your car as you went to the receptionist to book a room.

The morning came with fast steps as you woke up due to some noisy sounds from outside, disturbing your already not-so-great sleep. You yawned and looked outside the window, seeing how the two mysterious guys were carrying things in their garage. They were getting more and more suspicious, so you grabbed your jacket and went downstairs to see the process. Your car seemed to be intact, they actually put some effort into changing the color of it too into a matte one, which you weren't opposing to at all.

"Is it done yet?"

They looked at you, both trying to cover the car as much as they could as you were approaching it.

"No! Don't touch it! Go eat and then you can come see it." the one with the purple highlights said once again. "Oh, and we're Jongho and Yunho, by the way." He said, a gummy smile taking over his face as you nodded softly and introduced yourself.

As soon as you left the room, they sighed.

"We're screwed. We are supposed to be undercover policemen, not mechanical engineers!" Jongho scolded Yunho, as the oldest sighed softly.

"Then go and tell her this! I actually think we even did a great job… Even our parrot agrees."

"We'll see about that. And let’s hope she doesn’t call the police on us!"

Said and done. You came from the little diner, looking at your now covered car. It seemed promising.

"Tadaaaaa! Here is your car, fresh and new." Yunho said, taking the sheet off of your shiny car.

"Thank you so much guys! Money won't thank you enough for that." you went and excitedly opened the car's door, only for something heavy to drag you down slowly—it was the car's door.

"...I guess no money for us," Jongho said, head down in shame as he couldn't look you in the eyes. "I told you, stupid."

You were still in shock as the door was now standing on the ground, looking at the two boys. "Mind telling me what’s this about?"

"This… is not our job, Y/n, we're sorry for lying to you." Yunho said, trying to reach for you but you went outside, leaving them to wallow in self pity.

This was all because of your stupid companion, one that wasn’t even accompanying you right now, when you needed him the most. You threw your hair back in frustration, going around the busy streets you didn’t even know. It kept getting darker, and the few houses you saw were not giving you any comfort. You were in trouble, in a run down neighborhood you wouldn't even dream of. A blue-haired guy showed up at some point, and as crazy as you must have looked, you followed him into an alley. When you saw him suspiciously entering a back door; you rushed inside just before it could close. The inside was lit by some yellow lights and you swore you could hear loud cheers coming from the basement. You went to the first door you saw and opened it, forgetting about the personal space for just a while, until you saw a long-haired brunette surrounded by money. Oh, and having a rolled-up bill between his teeth. If you weren't in need of help, you would exit the door as fast as you entered it. Feeling that someone was staring at him, he looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow when he saw your unfamiliar face, putting the money in the bag and hiding it under his desk as fast as he could.

"Robbery?" he asked, eyes continuously on the money bag you were amazed of.

"Listen, dude. I'm lost in this hell of a district, my car is screwed by two liars and I just want to find a way back and go home. My last intention is to rob you."

He wore an unfazed look on his face, almost like he didn't understand a thing of what you said; he was getting on your nerves more.

"Also, what kind of people ask someone if they are gonna rob them? And how the fuck do you have so much money?"

He smirked as soon as you mentioned the money—if you looked close enough, you could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes.

"If you wanna know how, I can show you right now. Follow me."

What did you have to lose? You were already lost in your thoughts, you didn't have the energy to say no—so you followed him. As soon as you got inside the room, you noticed the pleasing decorum, but also the fighting ring in the middle of it. And after you took some time to look around and take in the new surrounding, your eyes met his.

"Sa—"

Before you could even finish anything, he was on the floor, mouth full of blood as your eyes widened, wondering what the fuck he was doing there—the one who made you get lost, the one who brought you there. Before you could speak again, you saw the money guy hurry in San's direction, as he got seated on a chair, an exhausted and hurt look on his face.

"What the fuck got you that distracted? You literally let him hit you!"

"Wooyoung… her… protect her…" he raised his hand weakly, finger pointing to you.

"Ha? Her? You know the mysterious I got lost girl?"

"That girl is my sister, Wooyoung!"

Oh.

"Shhh, calm down. Don't waste your energy. C'mon, drink a bit of water, and go back on the ring." he said, splashing half of the water bottle on your brother's face while trying to look unaffected. I didn't sign up for this, he thought, though there was nothing he could have done—they really needed the money.

The cheers only got louder when San returned to the ring, while you tried to make your way in the crowd, squinting your eyes to see something between the pink hair strands of a tall man in front of you.

"You stole my place." you turned back to face a built man, anger visible on his face as you blocked his view—and stole his place.

Words got stuck in your throat as you swallowed the lump inside of it, anger getting over your senses. "What did you just say?"

"I said that you stole my place and that I expect you to go back!" he raised his voice more and your eyes shut together, your fist ready to throw a punch, before you felt a strong arm dragging you behind them—the brunette again.

“She’s with me." he growled, dragging you next to him as you were worriedly looking at your brother. "You're going to have to win double the amount of money for this, San." he mumbled.

Another hit on the ring and he was completely out of it, the three seconds passing and the bells letting the public know who the winner was—and much to his friend's disappointment, it wasn't San.

"No way. No way this is happening. He lost because of you!" he pointed at you, hitting his chair with his foot until it fell down.

You were already overwhelmed by everything you witnessed, tears beaming at the corners of your eyes as your brother came to the two of you.

"Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go, Wooyoung! For once!" he said, tiredness audible in his voice as his breath was hitched and slow.

"That's my job, San. And you were supposed to help me, help us." All Wooyoung could do after this was frown, before he left the building to go get some air.

You looked at your brother and dragged him somewhere far from the looks of the curious ones, hitting his chest slightly.

"What the fuck are you doing here, San? Is this the traveling you loved? Is that what our parents would have wanted you to become?"

He looked down, avoiding your stare as he couldn't look at you.

"Why didn't you tell me you needed money?! I would have gotten a job to help you!"

That's when his eyes met yours, finally hearing his voice in the two days you've been separated.

"The first rule of Fight Club…" he started, his gaze becoming stern: "… is you don’t talk about Fight Club.”

He genuinely annoyed you.

"And what are you doing here in the first place?"

"I was trying to find a way to cope with everything that happened after my brother left me so he could go fight some random people."

Auch. That hurt worse than a kick, he sighed.

"I'm sorry, Y/n… C'mon, you can stay with me from now on."

You didn't want to give in, you couldn’t imagine yourself having to stand Wooyoung's tantrums, yet it was better than wandering alone in an unknown city—so, you did what you thought was right and listened to your brother. And maybe staying so much with him (and his friend you won't talk about), watching his matches, that might have opened new horizons for you. You were now having dinner with them, clearing your voice before letting it be heard.

"You know… I wanna join the Fight Club too." you said softly, waiting for any sort of reaction from them; and there were two different ones—Wooyoung's eyes lit up immediately as he saw more money coming his way, whilst San was looking terrified.

"No."

"Yes!"

They said in unison, glaring at each other.

"I'm not letting her join this, it's dangerous, Woo!"

Wooyoung seemed to absolutely ignore the boy as he smiled at you, the first time you have seen him smiling outside of matches San won.

"I will help you become the best fighter out here. We're starting tomorrow!"

All you could do was smile excitedly as San face-palmed himself.

Said and done. You were already one month into practicing, and Wooyoung kept on finding matches for you, the next one being in two days. You were inside the little space he claimed as your training room, punching the innocent punching bag as you heard the door behind you. You thought it was Wooyoung and smirked, turning to face him and kicking, only for your fist to stop right in front of your brother's face.

"Oh… hey San." you smiled innocently whilst all he could do was sigh.

"If you don't get along with Wooyoung, why do you keep on doing this? I didn't even agree!"

You looked at him, deciding to ignore the judging look he threw your way. "I think I am capable of making my own decisions and I sure as hell don’t need my brother to make them for me."

"Do you think our parents would be proud that their daughter chose this path?"

This time, you snapped.

"Maybe you should have thought about this before choosing it first. You are my only role model, San, what do you expect from me?"

"I'm sorry, babes. If that's what you really want… I promise I will support you. But please take care." he said, arm wrapping around your waist as he dragged you into a hug. You hugged him back, the nice feeling of longing surrounding you—before a fake cough snapped you out of it.

"Sorry to interrupt your brother-sister moment, but you're distracting her."

"So now I can't spend time with my sister?"

"Not when she has a match coming. Also, she's getting as good as you. I won the lottery with you, guys."

You smiled at his praise, though he seemed to have something else in mind.

"I didn't like you at first, you know?" he said, looking directly into your eyes.

"I know, it was mutual." you said, a cheeky grin taking over your face as you waited for his response.

"Don't get too excited, I still don't like you. But I like the money you bring." he winked, watching as San's eyes darkened.

"Wooyoung," he growled, "if you think I'd let you talk to my sister like this, you're wrong. We're not your fucking bank!"

Wooyoung flinched a bit at his friend's words, pulling his glasses on his nose and trying to act unaffected when, in fact, he wasn't. Since you joined, he found himself thinking if he was doing the right thing, if you two thought he used you for money—which San kinda confirmed; but he couldn't let these emotions take over him, so he did what he thought was best—left.

He left and you two didn't see him again. Match time was right there and he was nowhere to be seen; and as much as you wanted to lie and act indifferent about it, you kinda missed his antics, his nag, perhaps you missed him. This was maybe, the reason why as soon as you stepped into the ring, you started to have an uneasy feeling. He wasn't there to support you, to hype you up, and it left you with a bitter taste. Despite this feeling, you still tried your best. Tried to avoid your rival's hits, tried hitting more, and you actually thought you were gonna win. That was until you spotted the pair of ebony-like eyes you waited for, being the last thing you saw before everything turned black.

That wasn't the sight Wooyoung expected to be welcomed with. He forgot about the two police officers behind him, running straight to the ring and following San who jumped inside immediately.

"Stop hitting her! Stop fucking hitting, she passed out!" he shouted, shoving the person off you, just to discover it was exactly the reason why the cops were there.

"Yunho, Jongho, it's him!"

Before he could do anything, San pushed both of them and took you in his arms, running to the infirmary as fast as he could. Yunho and Jongho were fast to catch the guy before he could run away, whilst Wooyoung was quick to follow San, who let you on the bed while waiting for the nurse.

"San!" he said, catching his breath as the eyes of the older one sent ice arrows down his spine.

"Don't you dare get closer to us! She was your responsibility Wooyoung, you were supposed to take care of her!" he said, hands on Wooyoung's shirt as he shaked the younger.

"I know San, I fucking know I fucked up! But her rival… he was following you San, I had to let Jongho and Yunho know that you were in danger… I wanted to protect you two…"

"I don't care about myself, Wooyoung. I only care about her and you failed. You failed us and our trust as well."

Maybe it took some harsh words for Wooyoung to realise that he put you in danger, and that he actually cared about you. About his friend, and unexpectedly, about his friend's sister as well.

"San… I'm sorry, please give me one more chance! I'll be more careful and—"

"She's out of this, Wooyoung. We are out of your damn Fight Club."

Wooyoung looked down, tears beaming at the corners of his eyes as he couldn't blame you. He just wanted to get closer with you, heck, he might have been attracted to you all this time—yet look where ignoring his emotions took him.

"You have my number if you change your mind, San."

And with this, he turned in the opposite direction, preparing to leave again. He wanted to be there when you wake up, he was aware that he distracted you when he came in way too late to your match. He wanted to hold your hand and start being there for you, but San was right. He didn't deserve none of you. His wish for money made him realise what he was truly lacking—love.

"San," you whispered, your weak voice being heard by both boys in the room: "San, you were too harsh… He wanted to protect you…"

Wooyoung's heart swelled a bit at your words, ignoring San's warning and sitting on the bed next to you. Right when your brother wanted to tell him to leave, his best friend was faster.

"I'm sorry I was late to your match, Y/n. I wish I was there for you."

"It's okay, Wooyoung. I wish I did better."

"No, Y/n! I'm proud of you nonetheless. You two are already the best for me."

Seeing Wooyoung hug you made San's anger dissipate into the void, joining as one hand caressed your hair and the other one patted his friend's back softly.

Your bond became even stronger after that day. While you met their friends (the ones who screwed your car) and realised how nice they actually were, your feelings for Wooyoung also grew stronger. You thought it was the same for him. The way his hand would softly brush yours, the random forehead and cheek kisses you were given, they had to mean something. And there you were now, plopped on a blanket as the night sky was shining above you.

"Isn't it pretty?" you asked him, looking at his flawless face and brushing his long hair with your fingers.

"It would have been even prettier if I watched it with my girlfriend."

Your heart remained still.

"Your girlfriend…? Do you have one?"

"Not yet, but I am about to. I know it's been quite of a long ride for us, but I'm deeply in love with you. And I know you feel the same, Yunho told me."

You looked at him flabbergasted, hands stopping on their track as he dragged you on top of him. You didn't know if you should be mad at Yunho, or glad that he eased the situation.

"Pfft, do you really believe Yunho? What if he lied?" you teased, grabbing his cheek softly as he looked at your lips.

"Well, let me figure it out." he said, before his soft lips met yours.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment, smiling a bit when his nose brushed your own.

"Thank you for making me realise that love is more powerful than money, babe." he whispered, "I'm still going to be San's manager. And you are going to help me."

You nodded, pressing a kiss on his chin as you laid your head on his chest.

San's next match was going to be interesting. Ten minutes before it started, yet nor you or Wooyoung were anywhere to be found. He was searching for you with a water bottle in his hand, tank top tight on his chest as his muscles flexed under it.

"Wooyoung? Y/n? Where the fuck are you?"

As he stepped further into the darkened hallway, he heard your giggles and sighed—he was already growing tired of how big of a menace you were as a couple.

"For God's sake, can you stop making out and come watch me? I have a match to win!"

You and Wooyoung could only laugh harder as your brother sighed for the nth time that day, but it soon became a chorus of joyful giggles as he joined you two.

"We're coming!"

#kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #ateez oneshot #jung wooyoung imagine #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez fluff #ateez angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #enemies to lovers #kpop fluff #kpop angst #jung wooyoung ateez #ateez au #wooyoung x you #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Birthday!! 🎂🎂 I'd love some more What You Expect please. I think this is my fourth time requesting it! I just can't get enough

continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

When Eden tells Al what happened, she expects him to be pissed.

"It's good that you have a friend, Sister," he says.

She stares.

When Al just stares back, she kicks him. He can’t feel it beyond the vague recognition of pressure, but he still shouts, “Hey!”

“All your complaining and handwringing and that’s all you have to say?” she demands. “Catherine knows! She’s Armstrong’s sister!”

He shuffles away from her and crosses his arms. “I said that you should tell them, what I’m worried about is them figuring it out themselves and getting mad at you! Why don’t you try telling Armstrong? Catherine did say keeping secrets was a family tradition.”

She can’t wait until he gets his body back so he can feel it when she beats him. “We’ve been fine this long, I don’t know why you want to suddenly come clean now.”

“Because, as I keep telling you, they’re going to figure it out! You’re not a kid anymore, Sister.”

She’s already been to the office and no one acted any differently around her or tore off her jacket and accused her of heaving breasts now, bound or not. They’ve got their own shit going on and they’re too self absorbed to care about hers. She’s told Al this a thousand times, but he doesn’t believe her, so she doesn’t bother saying it again. “Just relax, okay? We’re only hanging around Central for a couple months to give the appearance to the brass that Mustang has some control over me and then we’ll go off on our own again and we’ll be too far away for them to notice anything at all.”

Al just sighs, still giving him that moody stare that she can feel even though his face doesn’t move.

She knocks his helmet off.

That’s what he gets for not listening to her.

~

Havoc really wishes Armstrong’s sister wasn’t rejecting him in front of the whole office. Why is Alex doing this to him?

“I’m sorry,” she says, blue eyes wide. “It’s just that I’m only interested in strong, manly men. Like my brother.”

Alex flexes behind her. When did he take his shirt off?

He’s doing his best to ignore his coworkers’ muffled laughter and think up some sort of reasonable response to that when he hears, “Strong, manly men, huh?”

Havoc turns to see Ed standing there, a stack of books under his arms, which is just great, that really rounds out the humiliation.

He drops the books and comes forward, reaching for Catherine’s waist with both hands and lifting her in the air above his head. She straightens her legs even as she grips Ed’s forearms in surprise, her mouth open as her cheeks slowly turn the color of Ed’s coat.

“Hungry?” Ed asks, grinning.

She nods, once, then Ed is lowering her back to the ground and offering her his arm, which she takes with light giggle. He snags his books off the desk as he leaves, kicking open the door since he’s out of arms.

Alex blinks once, then twice, apparently just as surprised about this development as the rest of them. “Hm.”

“Wow,” Breda says. “Losing women to Mustang was bad enough, but now Ed? That’s got to sting.”

“I hate you,” he says, because, yes, it does.

#eden and catherine didn't plan that they just know an opportunity when they see one #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #canonwhatsthat #fma

[lemonlover1110]

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 29] Growing Family

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*this is really the last chapter, thanks for sticking with me in this cute adventure🥹

Seven years after Seiji is born, you constantly find yourself thinking about destiny and your first discussion with Satoru about it. Neither of you are sure, but you’re happy that this is how your life turned out. You love waking up next to him as his wife and proceeding to start off your day with him and your kids. With your seven-year-old Seiji and your five-year-old Saori. 

You both have teaching jobs– Of course, they’re very different. Satoru teaches three teenagers, one of them being Megumi, while you teach a classroom full of at least twenty second graders. Satoru always tells you that you’re one of the reasons he decided he wanted to become a teacher, apart from the part that he’s the strongest (you still have no idea what he means) and that’s his duty. You have a much bigger home than before; yet neither Megumi nor Tsumiki live with you anymore so many rooms are empty, however, considering the fact that you have two young children, the house is still very lively.

Satoru still had a great idea to fill up the empty rooms, and that’s how you find yourself expecting your third child with him. You swear to Satoru this is the last baby you’ll have, but that’s what you said when you gave birth to Saori. It’s easy to forget how bad pregnancy and childbirth are when you watch Satoru being the best possible father to your kids.

“Daddy, can you help with my homework?” Seiji asks, even though you’re the one that teaches his grade level and knows what his teacher is teaching. Apparently you’re great at explaining things but daddy just does it better, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you watch Seiji approach his father with the notebook. 

“Sure thing, buddy. Wait till Saori finishes with my nails.” Satoru answers, watching as his daughter paints his pinky nail a blue color. She was going for pink since it’s her favorite color but then she decided that blue would match his eyes (in reality she couldn’t find the pink nail polish and didn’t want to admit that she lost it). It’s fine though, her father will just buy her another one. “Wow, look at you. You’re doing such a great job.”

“I know.” Saori answers, so focused on not making a mess and painting her father’s whole finger. Satoru manipulates his infinity every time that she’s clearly about to paint his whole finger. 

“Saori, will you hurry up?” Seiji asks, clearly annoyed. He wants to get finished with his homework so he can watch TV, since you told him he could watch his show after he was finished with homework. You offered to help, but he turned you down.

“Don’t rush your sister, Seiji.” Satoru says, and he watches how Saori sticks her tongue out at her brother, causing Satoru to sigh. “Don’t stick your tongue out at your brother, Saori.”

“I can help you, Seiji.” You pop into the living room, where your husband and kids are. You find yourself bored for once in your life because Satoru took care of everything.

“It’s okay.” Seiji responds, making you pout. He does usually accept your help, but during your third pregnancy you’ve been a victim of pregnancy brain. You don’t think you’ve ever felt dumber, so stupid that even your seven-year-old notices.

“Saori, honey, will you paint my nails next.” You say and she perks up. For the first time Satoru fails, not turning his infinity on and getting nail polish all over his finger. She smiles brightly and nods her head.

“I’m done with you, daddy.” Saori tells her father, and he laughs as he looks at the unfinished hand. He stands up and walks over to Seiji to help him with his homework. You take Satoru’s seat and extend your hand to your daughter. “Do you want blue as well, mommy?”

“What other colors do you have?” You ask.

“I used to have pink.” She replies, which makes you laugh. She doesn’t have it anymore so you don’t see the point in bringing it up. She begins to paint your nails, and she’s awfully concentrated until she finally speaks up, “When’s my baby brother or sister getting here?”

“Around two more months.” You answer. You’re due in December, a little while after Satoru’s birthday. A month after her birthday. “Are you excited to be a big sister, honey?”

“Yeah.” She answers. She’s focused, therefore, she can’t talk. You stare at her, watch how concentrated she is. She has to push her white hair out of her face since it covers her vision. The more you stare at her, the more you realize how neither of your kids look like you and you hope that the third time around you give birth to your twin. “When’s my birthday?”

“In a month.” You respond since you won’t count down the weeks until her sixth birthday. You can’t believe just how fast she’s growing up, it feels just like yesterday when you found out that you were pregnant with your baby girl. You smile, watching as she paints your whole finger. Satoru has shown you his infinity, yet you still find yourself surprised how she never messes up Satoru’s nails. “Woah, you completely missed the nail there.”

“Sorry.” She apologizes yet she continues to make the same mistake. You aren’t paying too much attention to it, you just listen to Satoru explain to your son how to do his homework. You’re sure that you could explain it better, but you still smile. You never really thought you’d be here seven years later, but here you are.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

Satoru isn’t the type of man that goes to bed early– Well, he wasn’t. Up until he had two babies under two and ever since he had to handle a very energetic Seiji and a crybaby Saori, he’s been going to bed since eight at night. When you put both of your kids to bed, you both go to bed as well. His head barely touches the pillow and he’s passed out.

This specific night though, when his head touches the pillow, a scream comes from his daughter’s room and he sprints out of bed and to her room. He literally just put her to bed, there’s no way that she already had a nightmare. Seiji isn’t much of a prankster either so he’s ready to kill just about anyone.

Satoru finds his little girl with her knees to her chest. She buries her head in her knees, and she covers her ears. Satoru looks around, turning on the light. He’s about to ask what’s wrong since his eyes don’t see anything, but he feels the energy. His eyes land on the half open closet and he begins to walk towards it.

“Is everything okay, Saori–” Seiji comes running into the room after hearing his sister scream. He’s much slower than his father, but regardless he’s here.

“Go to your room, Seiji. Take your sister.” Satoru orders and Seiji does as instructed, even though it takes some effort to get Saori out of the room but he succeeds. Satoru fully opens the closet and a sigh leaves his body seeing the small curse. Nothing scary to him, but surely scary for his baby girl. 

He exorcizes the curse with no issue before walking out of the room and going to Seiji’s room. Seiji comforts his little sister, who’s trying to hide under the blue blanket that Seiji let her borrow. There’s a frown on Satoru’s face as he walks over to his babies and sits on the edge of the twin bed. He engulfs his kids in a hug.

“I’m sorry you saw that, Saori.” Satoru mutters. He feels guilty that the curse that he holds is passed down to his children. He’s known they can see them, but he tries to protect them as much as he can. Sometimes he can’t though. Satoru’s parents want him to start training his son as well, after all, Seiji is a descendent of the Gojo clan but Satoru doesn’t want to do that. He wants his kids to be free of this all. 

That’s not his decision to make though.

“Everything’s gonna be okay while daddy is here.” Satoru reassures them. He kisses the top of their heads, and just holds them while he can.

“What happened?” You show up a little too late. Getting up from your bed is the hardest exercise that you face lately. Satoru chuckles, it’s not like you’re really going to understand anyway. He doesn’t want you to.

“The kids are sleeping with us tonight, honey.” Satoru says, picking both Seiji and Saori from the bed and carrying them to your bedroom. You slowly follow behind, already out of breath by simply getting up from bed and going to Seiji’s bedroom.

When you stand in the doorway, you watch how Satoru tucks them in the middle of the bed, filling their faces up with kisses. Maybe it wasn’t exactly planned, but you’re glad you’re with him and the fact that he’s the father of your kids. Now, as his wife, you can’t imagine spending the rest of your days with someone else and you can’t imagine a father more perfect than him– Of course he has his flaws but they hardly poke through.

He often asks if you think he’s doing well as a parent, worried that he’s messing everything up. You can’t even begin to say how proud you are of him, and how you think he’s a far better parent than you are. He loves to remind them that their father is always there to help them, protect them, and love them. Maybe that’s why you agreed to have a third child with him, plus the process is always fun.

“I love you two so much.” Satoru says, and while he should lay down with them, he’s no longer tired, and when he looks back at you it seems like you aren’t tired anymore either. “We’ll be right back, do you want to watch some TV for a bit?”

They nod their heads and Satoru turns the television on. They’re too agitated to go to sleep as well. Letting them stay up for half an hour isn’t the end of the world. He then walks over to you, and throws his arm over your shoulder. You walk out of the room and go downstairs to the living to sit down for a moment and talk. It’s rare that you find yourself alone to just talk.

When you take a seat, a moan leaves your lips, and he furrows his brow. You grab his hand and put it over your belly, and your baby doesn’t waste time kicking. No matter how many times he’s felt it, it always amazes him. He always looks so in awe, and he doesn’t remove his hand until his baby kicks a couple more times. He then pecks your lips, muttering, “Thank you so much for this.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts because this is the last time we’ll have a kid.” You tell him, and he sweetly smiles at you, pecking your lips again. You rest your head on his shoulder for a minute, and he enjoys the moment. You appreciate the unusual silence. You’ve gotten used to so much noise, and you’ll grow to miss it if you sit in silence for too long. You still appreciate it.

“How’s Kaya?” He asks, interrupting the silence.

“She’s planning the baby shower. She’s going crazy.” You respond, and you hear him chuckle.

“Isn’t she due soon? She shouldn’t be stressing over a baby shower.” He says and you hum in response. You wouldn’t know either way, you opted out for a baby shower the second time around since you were already stressed enough planning a wedding and handling Seiji. Every time you’re reminded, you laugh due to the fact that your father was right about the fact that Satoru would knock you up months after Seiji’s birth.

“She’s due around Halloween– Maybe two weeks before Saori’s birthday.” You answer. That’s so soon, Satoru only prays that her water doesn’t break during the baby shower and that he has to handle all the chaos. Satoru knows Daisuke is absolutely freaking out about it all; Satoru knows that feeling all too well, he’s still freaking out even though this is his third baby.

“Our baby will finally have a little cousin this time around.” Satoru comments and you chuckle. Seiji didn’t need a cousin, he had his younger sister. This new baby doesn’t though, and you’re adamant on not having more kids which he understands since he’s not the one that carries them for nine months.

“What ended up happening in the kid’s room?” You ask, and Satoru takes a long minute to answer. There’s no point in lying. He lied so much to you when you first met, he can’t do that anymore while you’re his wife. You swore you’d leave him if you ever caught him in a lie again, and now he tells you the truth even when you can’t see it. He doesn’t see the point in telling you a problem that you can’t solve.

“Well… Uhm… A curse.” He answers, and you remove your head from his shoulder. You slowly nod your head in response, and you aren’t really sure how to answer that other than,

“Oh yeah…” There’s some things that you’ll never understand about them nor about your husband. You don’t like to think about the fact that there are some issues that you’ll never be able to help them out with, only Satoru can help them.

You sit in absolute silence for a minute as you get lost in your thoughts. Satoru watches you, wondering what goes on in your mind.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you sigh. You can’t try to play it off as if you’re okay because you expect him to remain honest with you, it’s hypocritical to lie to him.

“Yeah, it’s just… What if you aren’t around and a similar issue comes up. How would I handle that?” You ask, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head, his hand going down to rest on your belly. “I just feel useless for some stuff, Satoru.”

“You aren’t useless, baby.” He responds. He doesn’t want for you to think about this– He doesn’t want to think that you’re useless in any way. It makes him recall an incident from five years ago, and he hid the truth to not worry you. “Can I confess a lie I told you?”

“Better be from before we got married.” There’s a frown on your face, and Satoru chuckles.

“You remember when Seiji was three and Saori two, how they went running to you crying about a bug that you could not find?” Satoru asks, and you remember the incident clear as day. You were scared shitless but you still went after the bug to kill it; when you couldn’t find it and they kept crying about it, you just comforted them while Satoru dealt with the problem. “There wasn’t a bug, it was a curse. But you still managed to deal with the problem, even when you didn’t know what it was.”

“That does make me feel better.” You smile at him before kissing his lips. “I love you. You always know the right thing to say.”

“I love you too, baby.”

-

“Seiji, stop!” Saori yells at her brother who keeps messing around with her tiara. You’ve already struggled getting into a kangaroo onesie to go out with them, you’re already far too tired to stop their bickering. You have no idea why you agreed to go trick-or-treating with them, you doubt you can walk too much. In your defense, you promised you’d do it two months ago, and your circumstances now are much different than before. You should’ve known that by Halloween you’d be in a much different mood. You only glance at Satoru, who lays down on the bed and stares at the phone, and he stands up to deal with it. “Seiji!”

“Seiji, what are you doing?” Satoru yells, walking out of the bedroom to go to where his kids are at. Satoru crosses his arm as he looks down at the seven-year-old who wears a superhero costume, ready to go trick-or-treating. Seiji tries to play it off as if he’s doing nothing, but he’s holding his sister’s tiara in his hands. Satoru sternly says, “Give it back and apologize.”

Seiji drags his feet, walking over to his sister to give her back her tiara. When Saori gets her tiara back, she runs to her father’s side and hugs him. He picks his little princess up from the floor and kisses her forehead. She sticks her tongue out at Seiji, making Satoru sigh and say, “Don’t do that.”

“Mommy! Saori is being mean to me!” He yells, hoping to have a parent by his side. You’re forced to leave your room to deal with it, even after your efforts of not dealing with it.

“What’s happening?” You ask. You look at Satoru and Saori before looking down at Seiji. Before Seiji responds, Satoru says,

“I got it handled, honey.” He puts Saori down on the floor again, “Apologize to your brother, Saori.”

“What for?” She responds, giving her father doe-eyes, which always work. He looks away, at his son.

“Apologize to Seiji for sticking your tongue out at him.” Saori crosses her arms before dramatically turning to her brother. She mutters an apology which is good enough for the minor offense. When you’re no longer needed, you begin to walk away, but you don’t get too far before your name is called again.

“Is Megumi still going with us?” Seiji asks, and you nod your head in response. You then look at your husband.

“Change. We have to get going soon so we get home early.” You order, and Satoru has no option but to do as you say. That’s what he signed up for when he chose to marry you. 

When you’re back in your room, you lay down on your bed, grabbing a picture frame that’s beside your bed and looking over it because every time Megumi is brought up you’re reminded of the little family you had six years ago. It’s an old photo of baby Seiji, Megumi, and Tsumiki. Looking at Tsumiki’s precious smile almost always makes you cry, and when the tears well up, they spill as you laugh at Megumi’s awful smile.

Maybe you should’ve appreciated those times more, but you had a lot on your plate. It’s not like you can stop time or stop awful things from happening. You’re still happy with your life right now.

The picture frame is snatched from your hands, and you glare at your husband. He looks at the picture before he puts it down on the nightstand. He leans down, and kisses you, “Don’t start getting sentimental now, it’ll ruin your night.”

“I’ll try not to.” You respond. He takes a seat on your side of the bed, his hands resting on your belly.

“I got a call.” He announces, and it makes your brows raise. He clears his throat, “We’ll have to go trick or treating without me. It’s an emergency.”

“Oh?” You reply. You want to be upset about it, but you know he doesn’t do it on purpose. Satoru is the first one to be bummed out about missing time with his kids. “I can take the kids out.”

“No! I want you to stay here till I get home.” He sounds defensive, and you know better. It’s rare when Satoru says no, so you’ll listen. He pecks your lips, telling you, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His head goes down and he presses a couple of kisses on your belly before he promises,

“I promise, I’ll be back as soon as possible. We gotta take these kids trick-or-treating together.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo

[the-common-cowgirl]

Greater of Two Evils

Summary: Your brother is a powerful man and so is Aemond Targaryen. You’re caught as a pawn between the two men. You have to chose between two evils and unfortunately for you, you chose wrong.

Rating: Explicit, Minors Do NOT Read, 18+

Word Count: 4.3k

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: DD;DNE, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Choking, Rough Sex, smut (p in v, fingering, oral sex (f receiving) jealousy , possessiveness, incest-y vibes from brother, unwanted creampie, breeding kink, coercion, mentions of birth control/emergency contraception not being allowed/available to reader, Aemond wants reader pregnant, men being dicks, degration, praise, Capitalism and the Elite, swearing

A/N: This is a spite fic dedicated my first hate comment. I hope you wait even longer now. 💋

Not yet proofread.

Your brother was a powerful man. One of the most powerful in Westeros. Many say he didn’t deserve his position, both of you coming from near nothing, but your brother was born with a gift your parents would often say was a “creative and hungry mind.” He was 10 years old when he started a small lawn care business in the Riverlands that grew to a full-fledged company at 14 he (and your parents due to his age) ran. At 16, he sold that company, got an internship at River’s Corp. When he freshly graduated University in Oldtown as the top of his class, giving a speech that would be remembered as one of the best speeches Oldtown Univeristy had ever the opportunity of hearing, he asked if you would like to move to Dorne with him, get out of the Riverlands and have an opportunity at Sunspear University. Seeing the chance at freedom and knowing your brother would most likely be paying for your schooling (since he had just been offered a high ranking position at Sunspear Industries) you took his offer and moved in with him a week after you graduated high school in the Riverlands.

That was three years ago. Your brother is now CFO of Rhoynar Industries and you’re in your third year of University at Sunspear studying Political Science. When you first moved in with your brother, the first two months were happy and spent everyday in your high-rise apartment’s swimming pool. But your brother had changed, or maybe, he was finally able to let his true self free during his college days as many young adults often do and his personality shift just took you longer to notice. His controlling behavior started innocent, nagging at your to keep the house tidy, then turning into commenting on what you wore out, turning into full blown comments about your appearance, weight, hair color. He made you dye your hair color black, to match his own natural color. Long gone were your auburn waves but you didn’t notice it then, well you did, but you weren’t as disturbed by it. Telling yourself he wanted you to look the part of perfect sister.

But then, halfway through your first semester, he told you that your Early Education major wasn’t good enough for him. He demanded you change it and when you tried to argue, he simply took your laptop, reminding that he bought it, and emailed your academic advisor that you’d like to change your major and wanted to meet with them first thing tomorrow morning.

That should’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back, you should’ve left that night. Packed your things and went back home to the Riverlands; be with your parents.

I’m every aspect of your life, you always fell short of the greatness of your brother: courage was not exempt.

That next morning, you went with puffy eyes to your advisor’s office and changed your major, dropping out of your current courses and signing up for secondary 8-week courses for your new major that would, in your brother’s words “thankfully start next week.”

You could easily summarize your life in Dorne these past few years: the Seven Hells.

All of this leads you to this moment. Your brother and you were invited to King’s Landing by the head of Targ Corp for an annual celebration they held for their most loyal alliance corporations. It was easy, your brother and his team of associate executives played a simple game: play nice with each other and keep everyone else from rising above. Being around these people made you want to vomit. These posh-assholes were some of the most dangerous and hateful people you’d ever laid eyes on, all wrapped in clothing that were one of their low-level employee’s entirely yearly salary. You didn’t want to be here, not a single bit, but your brother held the carrot stick of Univeristy tuition and free-housing over your head so you played along like the good sister you were expected to be.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you brother came barging into your hotel room without knocking, holding a garment bag.

“Hey!” You shouted, covering your naked self with a towel, “Can you knock next time?” You briefly wondered how he had gotten in, you made sure you locked it twice, then you saw the keycard he had kept for your room sliding back into his pant pocket.

“Wear this tonight,” he disregarded your fluster and laid the garment bag down on the bed you were sitting on.

Your brows furrowed, looking at your own brother with trepidation. He knew you had brought one of the black dresses you had picked out a month ago and he had agreed to it then. Why had he changed his mind so suddenly?

You slowly opened the bag to reveal a dark green, dress that showed off entirely too much skin than you were comfortable with around these vampires.

You began to shake your head, “No, I don’t want to wear this one. It’s cold out and I want to wear the black, long sleeve one I-“

You were cut off with a harsh hand grabbing your jaw.

“Wear it or we’ll see how long you can pay for that expensive schooling on your own.” He spat into your face harshly.

Once he let go, you brought your hand up to rub at your jaw where there might be bruises now. Your skin was sore and your bone ached. “You know what, maybe I don’t want to even get this degree. Maybe I’ll move back in with mom and dad and just fucking live my own life again.”

As you sat on the bed angrily with tears of resentment brimming your eyes, you could feel your brother’s stare on you, boring holes into everything he deemed imperfect about you.

“Do this for me,” his voice was softer, “And I’ll give you anything you want.”

You finally looked up to him, disbelief in your eyes.

He kneeled to reach your eye level, you wrapped the towel around you tighter, “There is a man here I need you to impress. Do this for me and I’ll give you anything you want. I mean it.” His hand came up to brush your nude knee, you moved away instinctively.

You swallowed your unease. “What’s his name?” Your voice was so small.

He smiled at your acceptance, if you willing to work with him on something, if you giving in. “Aemond Targaryen,” he stood, returning to his business-like self. “He’s the son of the CEO, Visery’s. Aemond is a year older than me and he’s in politics. We-“ he paused, smiling at a memory, “We met in University…..He never really liked me.” He looked to you, “He’s the last legislator we need on our side for this deal that Roynar Industries and Targ Corp. are working up.”

“He’s against Targ. Corp?” You sounded flabbergasted, wondering why a Targaryen, the most infamously loyal family in the country, is an against his family’s own interests.

Your brother nodded and laughed, “Yeah, he fucking hates his dad.” He chuckled to himself some more before, “I just need you to win him to my side.”

You heard the implication and you skin began to crawl, stomach turning, “You seriously want me to fuck him?”

Your brother shook his head and chuckled as if you were crazy, “Just win him to our side.” He walked up to you again, towering over you as you sat, uneasily at the edge of the bed. He raised a hand and tapped the side of your head three times, “Use that political science knowledge I paid for.”

And then he left, making you feel like a tool.

You dressed yourself in the green gown, put on simple yet elegant makeup, and wore your dyed black hair up with a silver sun pin that your brother had picked out in his words, “to honor Roynar Industries.” You only felt branded.

Making your way down into the large event room of the hotel in which Targ Corp had set up for the celebration, you were handed a glass of something in a flute glass. The waiter had told you, in truth, but you were too nervous and occupied with looking elegant that you hadn’t really heard.

You spotted your brother across the event space standing with someone Martel from Roynar Industries that has offered for you to go ride on his yacht with him at least three times. Then you could see he was with some silver haired man, probably from Targ Corp. The Targaryens were known for their loyalty, ruthlessness and silver hair. Targ Corp. was the most powerful company in Westeros, they had their hand in everything and could turn anyone’s head the way they wanted. Coming it second was Roynar Industries and the old saying, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” was prevalent in the relationship with the two corporations. They worked together in most large projects in Westeros and you knew the each of them was waiting for the other to fall.

You walked the perimeter of the event, scanning the crowd for someone you knew or the person you were after. Although, you had heard Aemond Targaryen’s name before you had no idea what he looked like. You used your context clues though and assumed he had silver hair, he was probably tall and lean like all Targaryen men are and most likely flirtatious.

“Great,” you breathe, remembering a girl from Sunspear a few years ago that recalled a horrible relationship with an older man by the name of “Aegon Targaryen.” One in which he not only expected sex from her, he cheated when she refused. You briefly wondered how Aemond was related to this Aegon.

“Are you looking for me?” A deep, soft voice sounded beside your ear. You stopped dead in you tracks and turned like a scared bunny to the stranger.

The stranger. The silver haired stranger who checked nearly all your boxes for the stranger you were searching for. Had he been right?

You gathered your composure quickly, “And you are?”

“I’m assuming the man you’re looking for if you’re his sister,” he pointed behind you to your brother who was not chatting up a dark haired lady and a curly haired man with a cane.

You gave a quick, nervous laugh and stuck out your hand, “Nice to meet you, Aemond. I’m Y/N.”

Aemond looked down at your outstretched hand between the two of you, his his eye flicked up to you. You realized then, only one moved, however, the other, the one that intercepts his scar, is quite realistic. He ran his fingers slowly across your palm before grasping it gently but not shaking. The act was sensual and strange, you tried to pull away but he quickly snaked his hand up your arm and wrapped his large hand around your bicep, pulling you closer to him. He leaned in, “Aren’t you tired of being a pawn for your brother?”

You pulled back to look at him square in the face, at his perfect, angular face that was so sharp. “What the fuck do you mean?” You whispered, wondering what all he knew and how.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He whispered into your ear. If you had not been in the edge of the event, you two would be quite a spectacle to behold but someone, this man, this stranger, had planned this. He had to. You were both in the shadows, the outskirts, not to be seen unless looked for and Gods, you hoped someone would look for you. He made you uneasy, uncomfortable, and warm in places you shouldn’t be given the circumstance of your situation. He looked down to your cleavage, “Tell me, did he pick out this dress? This color?”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out how Aemond knew this. “Wha-“

“Did he tell you that him and his colleagues have a bet if we’ll fuck tonight or not?”

You looked back to your brother who was laughing with some of his associates from Roynar Industries. “How do you-“

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, I’m two steps ahead of him and always have been. He has such a problem being number two doesn’t he?” His voice was thick with hatred and his grip on your arm was bruising.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You just about screamed, pushing from Aemond. He let go and took a step back, look at you up and down. He resembled a wild predator, maybe that’s what he was. You smoothed your dress, “Fuck you, you stupid bitch,” you spat angrily, adjusting a strap of your dress. “I was just told to be friendly with you. I’m not a sex worker you ass! I wouldn’t fuck you in a million years.” You downed the alcoholic liquid in the glass before setting it on the ground at your feet. Aemond only watched you with a newfound amusement. It made you angrier. “I’m only helping my brother out until I graduate then it’s fuck this place, fuck Westeros and most of all….” You looked him up and down, finally realizing that he was goddamn handsome, dangerously so, if his personality wasn’t so off-putting, “fuck you.”

You stormed away before he could say anything back. You didn’t want to be here anymore, you wanted to return to your room and cry into your pillow until you fell asleep. You were angry and hurt. How could your brother set you up like this? How could a complete stranger be so fucking brash and horrible? How could you be so stupid to believe your brother’s hunger for power would never come to this? Setting you up for his own benefit?

You’re certain your brother saw you in your way out of the venue, he always has tabs on you, but you knew he wouldn’t rush to your aid or to scrutinize you in front of people he wanted to look good for.

You slam your hotel room door and sink against it, hands over your face, crying on the floor. You sit like that for some time before a knock vibrates against your back and rings in your ears.

“Go away,” you try to say through sobs.

The knock comes again.

“I said go away!” Your shout this time is uncomely for a young woman you could hear your brother say in your head but you don’t care.

“It’s Aemond,” come the voice from the other side of the door.

The raises a fire in your heart as you angrily fling the door open to see the posh, pissy man from before. Mascara is running down your cheeks and your hair is falling out of its updo but you don’t care. “Go away,” you remind him dangerously, beginning to slam the door he puts his foot in the way and hand stopping you from breaking his foot ever so casually.

He pushes the door open with ease and steps into the room, making you step back and further. “We both have a problem and I’m here to propose a deal.”

Your brow quirks and your arms cross, “A deal?”

“A deal,” he echos. “I propose that you and I team up, I’ll offer you whatever he did, you offer me information to take your brother down and out.” He takes another step toward you and you take a step back in response, feeling the back of your legs hit the bedside.

“Why would I agree to that? I’m already getting my college paid for and a place to stay during. Why would I agree to everything I have in turn for you to ruin my brother? He’s horrible but I still love him.” You shook your head, “He’s done a lot for me-“

“I can offer more.” He moved in closer, making you lean uncomfortably against the bed.

“I don’t know you-“

“I will offer you more. You can get to know me, we can form a partnership. A friendship you could call it.” His voice was suggestive.

“Your offer of more is a friendship? I don’t need-“

“I can fuck you, can he?”

His words slapped you across the face. “What?” You mumbled like a dumb baby, confused and shocked. Maybe a little turned on.

Aemond brought his hands up your side and pushed you down to sit on the bed, he kneeled down and kissed the inside of your knee. Everything felt so wrong but he looked so goddamn handsome, you wanted it even if you said you wouldn’t fuck him.

“They have a bet, they want us to fuck.” He explained, “Let’s do it, prove we are into each other. You feed me information on him and the legalities of Roynar Industries.” He kissed your other thigh, you leaned back slightly involuntarily, it had been so long since a man had touched you, your brother wouldn’t allow you to date. “And I’ll slowly give you an out.”

Your breath hitched as his long, slender hand reached under your silky dress and trailed its way toward your core. “Slowly?” You questioned him breathlessly as his his thumb found your clothed clit on contact and began working against it. You could feel wetness pooling as he worked you open and your thighs began to move accommodate him as he moved closer and his other hand slid the dress higher and higher.

“Yeah sweetling, it’ll start with dates, then you staying at my flat in King’s Landing, then moving in.” Your dress was high enough to show off the lacy, black panties you wore and Aemond groaned, making you clench and buck your hips up to meet his ministrations.

“Sounds-sound like,” you were breathless and drunk on the attention he was giving you, “you want more than a fucking spy.” You fully laid back and lifted your hips so Aemond could pull your panties down your legs and off.

He ran a dexterous finger though your folds and watched it disappear into you with ease as you moaned. “Yeah maybe,” his voice was husky, “maybe I like putting your brother in his place. Second to Aemond fucking Targaryen. Always has been, always will be.”

He added a second finger, moving dangerously against your g-spot and the coil in your lower abdomen began to tighten. You lifted your back off the bed in a silent scream as he added a third finger and his mouth sucking at your clit. The intense and sudden pleasure gave way to a sharp, nearly painful orgasm and Aemond fucked you right through it.

When the wave of pressure came down, Aemond lapped at the wetness he expelled from you on your cunt and on his own fingers, moaning at the taste.

You laid on your back, trying to regain your senses and trying to remind yourself you were fucking a complete stranger, you should stop here before it was too late but you snapped out of your senses as he rose, half nude already and unzipping his black dress pants, pulling them and his underwear off in one swipe to reveal the longest, thickest cock you’d ever seen. The idea of taking such a thing inside you made you nearly swell with pride and excitement at the opportunity.

Aemond saw the look on your face and gave his hard cock a quick stroke. “Are you on birth control?”

You shook your head, “He wouldn’t let me, said the side effects are too dang-“

“Well I don’t have a condom,” he said, climbing atop you and pushing you up the bed, not giving you a choice, another reason to get the fuck out now. “I’m clean,” he offered before biting your collarbone then kissing the bite mark.

“I’m-I’m clean.” The voices in your head telling you to get out now.

He moved to the other side of your head and kissed your neck sensually, “You want me to fuck you raw?” Practically growling into your artery as he thrust the tip of his hard cock to your clit, making it harder and harder to say no.

“Uh, just, uh, pull out?” You squeaked as he did it again. You just wanted the fucking thing in you already, stretching you out in the way you wanted.

You felt his smile against your skin, “sure thing sweetling,” it sounded unconvincing.

You felt the tip breach you slowly then push forward even slower. Aemond raised to watch himself split you apart, groaning as you pussy sucked him in with a need unknown to you.

When he finally bottomed out, jutting painfully against your cervix he gave you a sound to adjust and gods, was he fucking endowed. You felt his cock throbbing with need and you wanted to please him, to let him know you were worthy so you bucked you hips against his and let out a moan at how fucking full you felt.

He only chuckled darkly and began his rough assault on your cunt. Pounding without warning or abandon into your heat, pushing your thighs to your chest and bending you in half, positioning you in a way that had him hitting your spot over and over until were moaning his name and your pussy began to flutter.

“Slow-slow down,” you pleaded, it felt like too much.

“Oh, poor little sister can’t fucking take it?” He once slammed extra hard after his demeaning question, it made you shriek. “Poor baby,” he wiped a tear forming in your eye with a sarcastic worry. “She played with the big dogs and didn’t know what she’s in for-“ he grunted, “you should be lucky I’m not fucking you in the ass.”

He pulled your dress down, ripping the shoulder straps to reveal you tits. Smiling like a wild man, he grasped them both harshly before sticking his tongue out and licking each nipple back and forth, making you squirm and tighten around him. “Fuck,” he groaned.

Then, as if a lightbulb went off, he pulled out and flipped you over, pulling you to your knees and ripping your dress and destroyed bra from your body. He entered you harshly again and pulled your back to his chest. His mouth on your ear, nibbling then biting, “I need to make you mine. Announce your brother who you belong to- who owns you now.”

His hand traveled down your belly to the bulge of his cock outlined in your lower stomach. “Do you feel me? Do you feel me up there? Feel me practically in your womb?”

You could, it was painful the way he bullied your cervix but the way he pleasured your sweet spot made you clench and fight off an orgasm that waited to burst.

He laughed into your ear, “Fuck, cum on this cock, I know you need to. Come on me and I’ll give you what you need.”

What the fuck did he mean what you need?

But that didn’t matter, he brought his hand to play with your clot as his pounding continued and you couldn’t fight off the orgasm anymore. Your body tightened and the coil snapped, pulsing around his cock, milking it, you screamed his named and he pinched your nipples as you came on his cock.

I’m your haze, he slowly let you fall to to bed as your ass remained up, his hands firmly handing you in place. “Such a good girl. A better girl than I’d thought you’d be. Oh, a perfect girl for me.” His pounding was relentless as he chase his own high.

You barely registered him saying, “Oh gods, we’ll be perfect together,” before you felt him still behind you, then the pulsing of his cock as warmth flooded you. He let out a groan, a triumphant groan, as he came inside you.

A shaking sob left you as you realized you’d been tricked, betrayed again, used again.

He stayed inside you for some time before pulling his softened cock out and putting on his clothes. You collapsed onto the bed, feeling the evidence of his orgasm slowly slide from your body. You grabbing the pillow ahead of you and hid your face in it. That was, until you felt his hand caress your nude back and the bed shift with the weight of him sitting beside you.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I need to know you’re gonna remember our agreement.”

You furrowed your brows, “Fuck you, there is no agreement anymore. You lied to me.”

Aemond chuckled and pushed a strand of hair from your face, “Think of it as the lesser of two evils. Marry me and have everything you’d ever wanted or keep being a pawn for your brother.”

“You’re nuts if you think I’d marry you after a single fuck.”

He looked back down to your thighs, where his seed slowly seeped out, then back to you with a smug grin. “I think your brother would kill you if it was all over the press that you suddenly fell pregnant and unwed. We all know he’s a religious freak now.”

You furrowed your brows, “I’m buying emergency contraceptive as soon as you leave this room.”

He chuckled, “I’m not leaving then.”

“Who said I’ll get pregnant anyway?” You were angry, so angry you couldn’t make sense of his hand sneaking up your neck, holding it tightly.

“My father owns the press. If they say you are, then you are. Imagine what your mother would think, your father? Oh, your reputation would be ruined and your brother would be embarrassed of you.” He grit through his teeth, “And I’ll have people watch you, I already do. They give me updates, they follow you, they’ll know, I’ll know if you are. And then,” he let go of your neck, “You won’t have a choice. I won’t give you one.”

“You’re a fucking psycho.”

He chuckled, running his fingers along your arm, “I’m the easy choice. I’ll give you everything, just give me yourself.”

#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #smut #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #aemond x you #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond x reader #house of the dragon aemond #aemond #prince aemond #hotd modern au #hotd smut #hotd fanfic

[storydays]

C'mon, baby! Let's Go CRAZY

John Dory X Male! Rock Troll! Husband! Reader.

John Dory chuckled to himself as he watched his three children chase their cousins around. Currently, he was relaxing at the bar with his brothers', enjoying a drink and warm atmosphere.

After meeting Bruce, and knowing how dangerous things were, JD asked his sweet sister in law, Brandi, if he could leave his children safe on Vacay Island until either his partner came for them or he himself came back.

Of course, she happily kept the 3 Trollings. "It's honestly safer for them," she chided him before they left.

The oldest at 10 years old, Ash was a stubborn Troll and got along well with Bruce's oldest child, Cove. They were both super sarcastic but cared deeply about their siblings.

Cove would show Ash all of the cool hiding places on Vacay Island, and Ash was small enough that they could fit into the nooks and crannies that Cove couldn't reach. The two pre-teens bonded over learning about being non-binary and being true to themselves.

Ash took after John the most. Their hair color, eye color, and was a Pop Troll. Ash even wore compression gloves like their Papa, to keep their shaking hands still when drawing in their sketch book.

Then their only girl, Brooke, was an exact carbon copy of her Daddy. She was only 6 years old, but she was a wild card. She would jump off of stuff, then used her (h/c) pigtails to catch herself at the last moment. She took after John's husband in personality, looks, and even in music genre: Rock! John's favorite part was that (Y/N) and Brook shared (e/c) eyes.

Honestly, most of John's gray hair comes from that child. She was LaBreezey's little shadow. "She's just following what her big cousin does because to her, LaBreezy is her hero." Brandi laughed when John wondered outloud.

Ugh, John could just hear his husband's smirk when Brooke started talking about the government's control..or lack of it. Great, he already (Y/N) to worry about, now he's got two to deal with. Hopefully, that phase will pass soon.

The teal haired Troll hissed when he felt something tug sharply on his tail. Looking down, he brightened, seeing his youngest, Reed making grabby hands at him, demanding attention. John set his drink down before grabbing the Trolling.

"Reed! Finally up from your nap, little man?" Reed was currently struggling with speech, so he just made some babbling noises, before cuddling in his Papa's arms.

Reed was quite the surprise. John and (Y/N) thought they were done having kids, both of them in their late 30's. But one day, they woke up to Reed's egg sitting snugly in John's head.

Reed was a little miracle egg, and hatched looking like both of his fathers, John's hair, (Y/N)'s nose, but what was unique about the little dude, he had heterochromia. So his right eye was the same blue as John's and the calm (e/c) as (Y/N).

"So, where are you John Dory?" Bruce snapped his older brother out of his thoughts, making him realize his siblings' were looking at him.

"Huh?" John asked dumbly. Clay snickered, "John Dory has left the building, gentlemen." They joked, making the other brothers laugh.

"Ha ha." He chuckled, jumping slightly when he heard Brooke squeal loudly. BroZone looked over to where the little teal trolling watched excitedly as a (s/c) Troll went nacho diving.

Even though, there was salsa and cheese in their eyes, the new Troll got out yelling happily and excitedly. Bruce's children and John's older children crowed around him, chattering away.

Bruce frowned, knowing his kids wanted to copy the mysterious Troll's actions. "Ugh, that is so reckless. Now the kids are going to want to do it, and they'll be all sticky. Have you ever tried to give children in general a bath? Not to mention my kids are giants." He groaned.

John ignored his brothers' as Reed's tail excitedly wagged in his face, pointing towards the crowd.

Laughing, he adjusted the little Troll and stood up. "Okay, okay, we're going." He turned towards his brothers, with a raised brow. "Y'all coiming?"

BroZone scrambled after their brother, watching in shock as the new Troll grinned and rushed to John Dory. John stopped him with his tail, and deadpanned expression. "You are NOT touching us, until you've showered or rinsed off, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) grinned mischievously, turning towards Ash and Brooke, who bore matching grins. "Come on, kids!" "Wait, no!" John yelped when he was suddenly pushed from behind and pulled into the stream.

BroZone watched as (Y/N) held Reed in his arms, with a smug grin on his face. "Well, I rinsed off." He cackled, helping John Dory out of the water, before leaning in and kissing the grumpy Troll.

John smiled into the kiss, and kissed him back.

"Daaaadddddssss!!!!" Ash and Brooke squealed laughed, as John and (Y/N) covered their children's eyes with their tails.

Pulling back, (Y/N) pulled his children into his arms, squeezing tight. "Sorry it took so long for me to get here. This place is a good 3 day ride by caterbus. And I forgot my snacks!!!" (Y/N) whined, ears pointing down, perking up when his children giggled." So when I saw those nachos, I had to dive in and eat something."

John laughed, shaking his head. "Papa, I think our uncles' stopped working.." Ash pointed towards the frozen BroZone where their jaws dropped and stared wide eyed.

"Oh, right! (Y/N), babe, these are my brothers! Spruce, who now goes by Bruce, Clay, Floyd, and Bit-- I mean Branch. Guys, this is my husband, (Y/N)."

"Husband?" asked Clay. They were cool with it, same sex relationships weren't taboo or anything, but Clay was just surprised that John Dory of all people was in one.

"Cool." Floyd smiled.

"Papa?" Bruce whispered, a smile growing on his face.

"(Y/N)?" mumbled Branch, your name sounding familiar.

"Dada!" Reed giggled, tail wrapping around (Y/N)'s forearm.

"Uh-oh."

#brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #branch #clay trolls #trolls 3 #bruce trolls #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #storydays #john dory x reader #trolls x reader #band together #Youtube

[flowerandblood]

Object of Despair (2/3)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, oral sex, fingering, hate sex, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]

[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. After their wedding night, which went completely differently than he imagined, Aemond tries to return to his daily routine. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of hate sex, violence and chauvinism. ]

Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their wedding night was so different from what he had imagined that he was at once horrified, ashamed and intrigued by the person who had been living in the chamber next to his for several days. She wasn't seeking his company or attention, appearing only at suppers spent together with his family.

He knew he could have summoned her to his chamber at any time, and it would have been her duty to come and give him what he wanted, but every time he meant to do so he changed his mind and resigned, frustrated, staring into the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, sitting in front of it on his ornate wooden chair, thinking about that evening.

After what had happened between them it seemed to him that they had both suddenly come down to earth, not knowing what to make of how aggressive and full of rage the rapprochement had been.

He let her go and watched her, breathing unevenly, tying back his breeches, as she immediately covered her buttocks back up with her nightgown − he could see that her whole body was shaking, her lips trembling, her eyes big, her cheeks puffy from the tears that ran down her face.

She calmed down a little after his words and reassurances, but she was still terrified.

She asked him in a breaking, weak, quiet voice if she could now return to her chamber, and although he had originally had no intention of letting her lay in his bed, he felt disappointment at the thought that she had not begged him to let her stay.

Not wanting to show weakness or allow her to think that her presence was something he craved, he allowed her to do so with a nod, and she left without a word, neither bowing to him nor wishing him a good night, quietly opening and closing the door of his chamber behind her.

The next day, during the duel with Criston Cole, he could not concentrate − whenever he caught sight of a shade of blue out of the corner of his eye he involuntarily looked in that direction, thinking it was her in her gown that he remembered so fondly, his heart pounding hard with shame.

He pressed his lips together, turning his head away, snorting, playing with the hilt of his sword in his hand with apparent impatience, seeing some other woman − Cole watched him vigilantly, but not dared to ask either about her or his impressions of her.

Her presence was a taboo for him.

That same day, he walked and spent long hours in the great royal library, despite the fact that he usually instructed his servants to bring thick, old volumes filled with the history of his family and all Essos to his chamber. He hoped to meet her there, to confront her again, this time clearly showing her where she belonged.

To his disappointment, he did not see her until the evening − her blue gown immediately catched his attention, sewn from a soft, lovely fabric it fell heavily over her pleasant, girlish curves, accentuating her figure.

He swallowed hard as he looked at her face and noticed a large red bruise under her eye, which must have been the result of the moment he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head on the table.

She was discussing something in a whisper with Helaena, his sister bent over her with concern, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture they had all inherited from their mother.

They fell silent when they noticed him − her violet eyes looked up at him, sad, resigned and tired. He thought, feeling a burning embarrassment in his chest, that explaining to her who had the final word on what their marriage would look like was no longer necessary.

Sitting down at the table next to her he knew what awaited him − when his mother walked into the chamber and saw his wife she froze, the smile gone from her face.

She looked at him with pain, with disappointment he could not bear and he closed his eyes, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to sink to the ground.

"Dear sister-in-law, has my brother given you another gift besides, we all pray, his future heir in your womb?" Aegon asked with a sneer. He clenched his teeth, sucking in a deep breath, looking at his brother with grim fury, to which he only smirked, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch, amused.

He felt his wife shift beside him − his heart began to beat faster in panic at the thought that she was about to say something to humiliate him, to mock him in front of his entire family to take revenge on him.

"I slipped in the bath, my King." She replied simply, without emotion, regret or anger. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised at the ease with which she lied despite it being obvious that everyone around her had guessed what had really happened.

His brother raised an eyebrow clearly impressed, cocking his head, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak of wood.

"You slipped." He repeated softly and she replied nothing, looking at him calmly.

She and Aegon exchanged glances for a moment − it seemed to him that she feared neither him nor his position.

"I hope no more such unpleasant…accident happens to you, my Lady. Such a pretty face." He hummed, reaching for his cup, but she merely blinked, no grimace passing across her face, as if his words did not bother her at all.

He himself didn't know what he thought of all this, so he decided to go back to his daily routine, pretending that she simply wasn't there, convincing himself that it would be better that way.

He didn't need her, he didn't want her, and her silence and distance were doing him a favour.

He watched her sometimes from afar, seeing her pleasant silhouette glide between the columns as he trained in the courtyard, always headed for the garden, the tree he had read about before she came to King's Landing, and at which he understood the Northerners prayed.

He did not think of it at first, but then he began to notice the gazes of the men and guards fixed on her as she passed them, their smiles, their dreamy gaze as if they were imagining what they would do with her body, the body of his wife, his right and his duty.

It planted a seed of doubt in him − he wondered if perhaps she was meeting her lover there, if he was a source of ridicule in the keep because the servants already knew that she had not been faithful to him, that she had betrayed her crippled husband.

This thought made him furious, but having no proof for his supposition he decided one day to change his plan for the afternoon and watch her through the window − as soon as he caught sight of her figure passing through the cloisters he left his chamber, moving unhurriedly after her.

As he walked between the tall shrubbery, hearing the grass rustling and the birds singing, he tried to focus on other sounds, expecting quiet moans and panting to reach his ears, but heard only his own footsteps traversing the path strewn with small rocks rattling under his feet.

He stopped as he stepped into a small clearing − a large, white weirwood with a disturbing, wrinkled, red face on its trunk looked at him ominously, his wife lying on her back on the grass beneath it, her eyes closed, her dark, loose hair surrounding her head, her hands laid on her stomach.

He stood motionless, wondering if she was waiting for someone, however, she did not open her eyes or look around.

He thought with surprise that she was asleep.

He swallowed loudly, for some reason feeling desire at the sight of her lying silhouette, the fact that someone could see and hear them, that she was his wife, and he could take her here and anywhere else he wished.

He felt how his cock swell in his breeches, his lips tightening into a thin line as the heat spilled in his lower abdomen.

She shuddered and opened her eyes when she heard him move towards her − she lifted herself up on her arm, her lips parted in disbelief, however for some reason she did not rise or try to escape.

He stood, towering over her, feeling his superiority and dominance over her in this position and this situation, his fingers slid down to his breeches, untying them in a calm, nimble manner.

"Come here, wife. I promised you something, didn't I?" He asked, feeling his heart pounding like mad, releasing his aching erection, its pink tip glistening from his precum.

It seemed to him that she was shocked by his insolence, by the fact that he wanted to profane her sacred place, after a moment, however, the expression on her face changed. He parted his lips noticing how she rose slowly, kneeling before him as if to pray, with a light flick of her hand sliding the material of his breeches lower, looking him straight in the eyes.

No fear, no terror, no regret.

He sighed and immediately grabbed her by the hair, wanting to be in control of what was happening when her hand grasped his throbbing, hard cock in her soft palm, squeezing it at the base. He drew in a loud breath as her lips brushed its tip without any hesitation, her pink, shiny tongue licking it encouragingly. He tilted his head back, delighted.

"− fuck − keep going −" He commanded, impatiently pressing her closer to his lower abdomen, watching her with excitement and curiosity, his manhood quivering with desire in her hand, her fingers giving it a calm, assured strokes. He groaned involuntarily when he saw how she slowly slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, the tip of her tongue teasing him lazily.

She sighed as the thrust of his hips slid it deeper into her mouth − he heard her almost choke when it hit the back of her throat, her palate wonderfully wet and warm, her lips clamped down on it, in some natural, subconscious reflex beginning to suck it.

"− that's it − there you go −" He gasped with awe at the perverted sight before him, his fingers entwined in her smooth, soft hair, clenching down on it, controlling himself, however, so as not to cause her too much pain, forcing her head not to escape when his hips with sure deep pushes invaded her throat.

"− did you often satisfy your late husband like this? − it's clear this isn't your first time − little slut −" He exhaled, groaning lowly listening to the loud clicks of her saliva each time his aching cock disappeared again and again deep into her mouth, her hand tightening on it more firmly, making him accelerate his pace.

"− stop − that's enough −" He muttered, having no intention of wasting his seed, wanting to finish inside her, trying to push her away, but he felt her tongue trailing down his length, her free hand clamped down on his buttock, not allowing him to escape − he had to lean against the tree trunk, his other hand holding her hair as his cock thrust into her greedily.

"− f-fuck, fuck, fuckkk −" He hissed out in rage combined with delight and groaned loudly in relief as he felt his semen spill over her palate. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, all around them only the rustle of the leaves, his shaky, loud breaths and the sound of her swallowing, so lewd it sent shivers down his spine.

Slowly she slid it out of her mouth, his cock all slick and glistening from her wetness − her soft, pink tongue licked it for a while longer, teasing and sucking lightly on its tip from which the remnants of his seed still flowed. He stroked her smooth hair, feeling his body still shudder with shivers of pleasure after such intense fulfilment.

"− you look perfect like this −" He gasped softly, his thumb running over her cheek, noticing with some kind of relief that there was hardly a trace left of the bruise from a few days ago.

"− you will spend this night in my chamber − you should try how it tastes sticky with your moisture − don't touch yourself −"

That evening he waited impatiently for her, strangely excited and anxious, pacing around his chamber, absorbed in his thoughts.

He feared that she would humiliate him, show him, by not coming to his summons, that she despised and disrespected him, and then force him to use violence against her again.

He did not want any more accusing glances from his mother directed towards him at the table.

He shuddered as the door to his chamber opened suddenly − he turned over his shoulder and swallowed hard, noticing her figure covered only by her night gown and the cashmere blue shawl thrown over her shoulders − her long dark hair were loose, the look of her violet eyes calm and full of some kind of curiosity.

"− have you touched yourself? −" He asked coolly as the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood, turning towards her, walking in her direction with his hands folded behind his back.

"− no −" She replied softly, without any pleasantries or further elaboration, looking straight into his face without a sign of fear or uncertainty.

He intended to regain control of the situation she had taken from him when she decided when he would come and how, all by herself.

Stupid cunt.

"− undress and lie on your stomach −" He commanded in a dispassionate, cool, deep tone, from which her gaze darkened a little, as if clouded, her plump lips parted slightly but no sound came out of them.

She walked past him without a word, heading barefoot towards his bed and climbed onto it, her back turned to him as she sat on his bedding, letting him watch as her fingers slid the fabric of the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall down, revealing her naked, smooth body.

His hands began to undo the clasps of his tunic as she lay on her stomach following his command, her face turned the other way so that he could not see her gaze − the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace all around them, and besides, a complete silence filled with a heavy, stifling tension, a threat of what was about to happen between them.

He felt what he saw in his cock, his manhood expressing painful impatience, throbbing in his breeches at the thought that he intended to come deep inside her that night more than once.

"− did you love that fool? −" He asked indifferently in a voice slightly hoarse with arousal, licking his lips with his tongue in satisfaction to see that her whole body tensed, her fingers clenched on the pillow lying under her head, her back rising in a shuddering breath.

She was silent for a long moment, as if his question had startled her − he watched her vigilantly, pulling his boots off his feet, staying only in his undershirt and breeches as she lay exposed, bare, vulnerable, condemned to him and him alone.

No matter what her answer would be.

She shuddered, as if snapped out of her reverie, as he sat up behind her, his large hand running over and stroking her full, soft buttocks.

"− speak −" He hissed, his hand slapping her bare skin so sharply and quickly that she bounced and squealed. He gave a reassuring stroke to the spot, red and throbbing in the indistinct shape of his hand − involuntarily his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he noticed the moisture glistening between her thighs, her folds pink, throbbing and swollen.

She liked this kind of games, he knew that.

"− I was the furnishings of his household − I loved him as much as his chair, his bed or his table could −" She muttered, and he looked at her, surprised, not knowing himself what he thought of her words. He stared at her face, her gaze fixed on his window, her lower lip trembling as if she was trying not to cry.

He hummed, intrigued, moving forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, his long hair tickling the bare skin of her back and shoulders, making her gasp loudly, her body quivering all over in anticipation and uncertainty, fear and curiosity at what he was about to do.

"− I am, I believe, in his debt − he taught my wife how to suck cock so well −" He whispered quietly with a hint of dark mockery and threat, her lips parted wide in a quiet moan as he slid one of his hands under her stomach, parting her legs with his knee, forcing her to spread them in front of him, his mouth ran over her neck as his fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood.

"− but did he fuck you good? − hm? − did he know your weaknesses? − your most sensitive points? −" He murmured, her whole body breathless, her buttocks bucking up towards him and rubbing against his hard cock, moving to the rhythm of his fingers as their tips dug into her tender skin, trailing around her bud, teasing her once in a while, his hand all sticky with her juices.

"− fucking answer me − he fucked you with his fingers 'till you mewled his name? − 'till you begged for his seed? −" He growled, crushing her with the weight of his body, his other hand clamping down on her neck, careful not to overdo it though − she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him as he quickened his pace, running his fingers over her puffy slit again and again, leaking from her fluids, his fingers invading her fleshy folds with a loud, lewd click, his aching manhood hitting her buttocks.

"− yes − he's gained experience with whores and servants before, just like you −" She hissed out, her breath caught in her throat as his fingers tightened harder around her neck, his two fingers forced their way inside her, stretching her tight, hot, wet walls with sure, deep pushes to which her hips responded greedily with rocking, meeting him halfway.

"− shameless whore − maybe I should care less about your pleasure, hm? − fuck you so that you cry out in pain −" He threatened, and she laughed, struggling to catch air, her lips parted wide, her eyelids clenched.

"− objects do not know fulfilment or disappointment − love or hate − do what you want with me −" She breathed out, her eyes opened, releasing a wave of tears that ran down her cheeks, seeing this he slid his fingers out from inside her and let go of her neck, quickly untying his breeches, for some reason furious at her words, his nostrils twitched dangerously in accelerated breath.

His thumbs spread her folds wide to the sides, allowing the fat head of his cock to force its way inside her with her loud moan of surprise, his one, brutal push was enough for him to thrust deep into her with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction.

"− listen − that sounds like disappointment to you? − like hatred? −" He sneered, panting loudly, placing his hands on either side of her head again, his knees spreading her thighs wide so that he slid fully into her, bucking his hips, his thrusts violent, sure and deep, each time his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.

"− fuckin' leaking − all thirsty for my cock −" He gasped, feeling her muscles squeeze him tightly in pleasure, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, his hands in some subconscious, natural reflex found her breasts, caressing and kneading them between his fingers, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

"− ah −" She cried out innocently, girlishly − he stifled a low groan hearing that sound, accelerating his pace, opening her slick cunt wide on his cock again and again with brutal, quick thrusts, his mouth sliding down to her neck, clamping down on her skin, sucking her so painfully hard that she hissed, grabbing him helplessly by the hair.

"− I promise you that when I'm done with you, you won't be able to sit up tomorrow − your stomach and womb full of my seed −" He growled out into her ear, his breath caught in his throat as her hands found his, clenching on his fingers, entwining them together, her hips responding to his thrusts so eagerly that he struggled to restrain himself from coming just yet.

"− don't stop − fill me, please, please, please −" She mewled so loudly and sweetly that he lost control completely; he could feel the sweat trickling down his back from the exertion, one of his hands slid down her stomach, giving her pearl a few encouraging strokes from which her whole body quivered.

"− good girl − say my name −" He muttered with his face pressed against her soft hair, no longer controlling his movements, his hips slamming into her involuntarily, aggressively and quickly, no longer sliding out of her, chasing his own fulfilment, her walls clenched against him greedily, sucking him inside, wet and hot.

"− Aemond, fuck me, fuck me, f-fuck −" She whimpered and that was the end of it, from her lips came sounds of pleasure and relief he had never heard before, sweet, girlish, innocent, vulnerable, he felt her moisture trickle down her thighs, soaking him all over, her core throbbing hard in fulfillment, giving him wonderfull squeeze.

He gasped loudly, letting go at last, coming so hard inside her that it went dark before his eyes, his fingers tightened on her body to make sure she wouldn't escape him, their bodies writhing in convulsions, overwhelmed by how intense the fulfilment was, slapping against each other.

"− oh gods −" He mumbled, stroking her smooth shoulders, breasts, hips, thighs with his large, rough hands − he felt as if the scent of her body, her hair and her moisture had completely overwhelmed him, filling his lungs and his head. He closed his eyes, panting loudly with her, only realising after a moment that the fingers of one of her hands were still entwined with his.

They lay like that for a moment, trying to calm themselves, his lips finding her cheek, neck and shoulder, placing hot, lazy, wet kisses on them. He heard her sigh softly, her words like honey to his ears.

"− I want to taste you now −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

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[sebscore]

I love your leclerc a sister stories. Do you think you could do something possibly were maybe the reader has diabeties or something similar and she is not very well at the race weekend so her brothers have to look after her, or something along these lines. Thank you

HIGH FEVER | CHARLES LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader 

warnings: fever. reader is sick and feels weak. I based this off my own old high school, so if it seems weird- ignore it pls. little leclerc misses her big brother. 

author's note: i know it's not exactly what you asked for, but charles comfort is the premise so I hope you like it anyway <3 thank you for loving the stories, darling! 

• • • • • • •

Charles and Joris were sitting in front of the computer, going over the pictures the photographer had taken of his friend. ''I really like this one.'' The Ferrari driver pointed out a specific photo. 

''You want it like this or in black and white?'' Joris asked, his hand ready on the computer mouse to potentially change the filter. 

''In color is good.'' Charles confirmed. 

Their search was interrupted when the ringtone of Charles' phone started playing, making both of them flinch at the sudden sound. ''Oh, it's my mum- excuse me.'' He got up from his chair and walked into the next room for a bit more privacy. 

''Hello, ça va?'' Charles greeted his mother. 

''Hi, honey,'' his mother sighed, ''would you be able to pick your sister up from school right now? She's not well and I'm stuck at work.'' 

Charles frowned listening to her. ''Uh, yeah, I can pick her up. Is she okay, though?'' He asked her, concerned about his younger sibling. 

''They think she has a fever- it was during P.E. that they noticed something was wrong.'' His mother sounded worried on the other side of the phone, making him more worried as well. 

He walked back into the living room, grabbing his coat. ''I'm leaving now, okay? I'll call you when I've picked her up.'' Charles assured her. 

''Thank you, honey,'' Pascale seemed more relieved knowing her son was on his way, ''I'll come home as soon as I can, promise.'' 

''Great, bye bye!'' Charles hung up the phone and turned towards Joris. ''Sorry mate, I have to pick up my sister and take her home, but I'll text you and we'll continue later.'' He told his friend, walking to the hallway to put on his shoes. 

''It's okay, I hope she's alright.'' Joris brushed it off, he knows how much his sister means to him. 

Charles smiled. ''Again, sorry mate! See you!'' The driver waved one last time and he was out the door, getting to his car as quickly as possible. Charles lowkey regretted taking his custom Ferrari car as he knew it would catch people's attention and he didn't want his sister feeling uncomfortable with all the eyes on them, especially if she was sick. 

The drive from Joris' apartment to Y/N's school was barely 5 minutes, so Charles quickly pulled up to the building. It momentarily brought him back to his own times as a student, but quickly brushed them off. He was there for his sister, not for his own nostalgia. 

He walked up to the entrance door and rang the bell, not able to just walk into the building. He didn't have to wait long as the buzzer went off a few seconds after, allowing him to enter. 

The secretary seemed surprised to see the man instead of the girl's mother,  but she showed him where he could wait while she called the teacher that would bring his sister. Charles patiently waited, texting his mother that he had arrived at her school. 

''Mr. Leclerc?'' He looked up from his phone, seeing a teacher standing in the doorway. 

''Yes?'' 

The man fully opened the door and the young girl walked into the waiting area, not looking well whatsoever. Charles immediately stood up from his chair and strutted over to her, cupping her cheeks. ''Ça va, chérie?'' 

Y/N shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes at the sight of her older brother. ''I don't feel good.'' Her words came out small, making Charles wrap his arms around her for comfort. 

''It's okay, it's okay.'' He mumbled into her hair, trying to console her. 

The teacher next to them scratched his voice.''Here's her bag,'' he handed it over to Charles, ''rest well and I hope you feel better soon, Y/N.'' He glanced at the girl in her brother's arms, who tried her best to force a smile and mumbled a small ''Thank you.'' 

''Come on.'' Charles grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the entrance door again, bidding goodbye to the teacher and secretary.

He helped his sister get in his car and even buckled up her seatbelt. Charles drove out of the school's parking lot and they were on their way home. ''What happened?'' He asked her. 

''I don't know, suddenly I felt very dizzy and sick during P.E. and my teacher said that my head felt very warm, and then they called mum, and then they said that it's better if I went home.'' She explained the events of the day, leaning her head against the seat. 

Charles nodded as he listened to her words. ''It's probably a fever,'' he put his hand on her forehead, ''yeah, rest for a few days and then you'll feel better.'' 

''Yeah, she's lying down now… she looks very tired… yes, it's a fever, I checked her temperature… I'll make her something… okay, I'll do that… I'll tell her… bye, mum… bye bye!'' Charles hung up the phone and joined his sister on the couch. 

''Mum will be here soon, she just has a few more clients left.'' He told her, caressing her hair. Y/N timidly nodded, almost having no energy to form a coherent reply. ''Are you feeling a bit better?'' 

She shrugged her shoulders. ''I don't know, I feel the same.'' 

''You want some soup or something?'' He asked her, thinking of what he could cook for her. 

''Yeah, soup is good.'' Charles was about to stand up, but the arm of his sister stopped him from getting up from the couch. He gave her a confused look. ''What?'' 

''Don't leave yet, Charlie.'' She mumbled, her voice coming out very small. 

Her brother chuckled, finding it cute. ''I'm just going to the kitchen, I'll be right back.'' 

''But once mum gets here, you're leaving again and I won't see you for weeks.'' Y/N argued, not making eye-contact with him. 

Charles frowned this time, the feeling of guilt creeping up on him. ''What do you mean?'' 

''Sometimes I don't see you for a few weeks, because of racing and I understand that, it's your job,'' she explained, ''but even when you're back home, I almost never see you. You're either training, with your girlfriend, with your friends or you're doing some stupid social media things. They always get to see you when you're not racing, I get the 5 minute visit when you're passing through.'' 

He watches his sister with sad eyes, knowing that she was right and that he hadn't been spending as much time with her as he could. ''I'm sorry that I haven't been the best brother, I'll come over more, okay? I didn't realize that we haven't spent that much time together lately.'' 

''It's okay, I'm not angry at you,'' Y/N smiled at him, ''I just get sad when I see you're in Monaco on your Insta or something, and we haven't hung out.'' 

''We'll go do something after the next race, just you and me.'' Charles promised her, giving her a hug which she happily reciprocated. ''Okay, that's nice.'' 

''Can you make my soup now? I'm waiting.'' The moodswing amused him, her sentimentality turning into impatience. 

Charles stood up from the couch and saluted her like a soldier. ''Yes, chef!''

#charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fics #f1 fic #formula 1 fic