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#it gets my brain going. also he's kind of a bitch but like a bitch within reason. unlike sawashiro he's just a bitch OOP
yandere-sins · 18 hours
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A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."
I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!
Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!
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Click
You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 
"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"
Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.
"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.
"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."
"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 
"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 
For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.
"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 
In a way, he wasn't that different from you.
"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."
He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 
"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"
"You could have told me."
"And you would have dealt with her how?"
A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."
You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 
"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.
"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."
"Who'd want that, you sicko."
Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.
"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 
"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.
"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."
"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."
Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."
"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 
Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 
You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.
The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.
You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 
"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"
You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.
But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 
Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.
That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 
"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course!" 
His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 
"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.
"Why you what?"
"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."
Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.
Click
"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."
Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.
"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"
He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 
"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"
Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."
He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.
"It drives me insane."
His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."
His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.
"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."
You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 
But why would you?
The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 
"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."
"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."
At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent��three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."
"No, I don't like it."
Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."
"Can I go back to my room now?"
He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"
Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"
"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."
"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."
"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.
"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 
"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."
He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."
"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."
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the-woman-upstairs · 5 days
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Honestly, even without Art’s attempts at manipulation and sabotage, I don’t think Patrick and Tashi’s relationship would’ve survived anyway. Before they started dating, Patrick was criticizing her career plans and Tashi was never interested in entertaining his massive ego at her expense. Passion and chemistry are important to relationships, but if that’s the only foundation, it’s gonna crumble quickly.
The only difference between Patrick/Tashi vs Art/Tashi is that the relationship would’ve ending with a bang instead of a whimper.
#challengers#challengers spoilers#patrick and tashi need art between them#his willingness to submit even when done so with manipulative intentions does let tashi and patrick to indulge in their desire for control#the movie makes a point of saying that patrick is constantly shooting himself in the foot because he’s unwilling to humble himself#art let patrick get away with a LOT but tashi does and would not#but even tho patrick does get to the point where he can humble himself it’s still necessary for patrick to go off script and stir shit up#the way the film ends makes it abundantly clear that all three of them need each other to function#and that each person brings something different to the trio that each person needs#so i don’t buy that patrick and tashi could’ve worked things out on their own#tashi so clearly likes art’s dependence and loyalty to her#while also getting a lot from patrick’s passion and pushback#would also like to say that i personally love when art’s a mean little bitch#not only cause it’s fun but because it really seems born out of a fear of being left alone/behind#spreading my ‘art’s a greedy pillow princess that actually needs TWO tops to handle him’ agenda#and wrt the injury…sorry no one’s actually at fault for that#not only could no one could ever engineer something like that#it could’ve happened at any time because that’s life#in the film it’s meant to underscore the danger of disharmony between all three of them#and snap the tenuous thread holding all three of them together#and placing blame kind of misses the overall point the film is going for wrt the relationship between all three#hey is it just me or has this film broken my brain
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todayisafridaynight · 7 months
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and maybe i really like Pure (1996) because toru makes me think of a timeline where sawashiro didnt go into the yakuza ok . then what.
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boxwinebaddie · 5 months
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UNCLE NINA I LOVEDD CHAP 6 IVE ALREADY READ IT TWICE JUST CAUSE STAN WAS BEING SO CUTE AND NERDY
MY SWEETHEART MY LOVELY !! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I NEEDED TO READ THIS TODAY!!! ;-; <3333 NOT TO BE RAVENSTAN BUT THIS SERIOUSLY ALMOST MADE ME CRY!!!! TY
( you guys know how much i beat myself up, so messages like this mean everything to me...also sorry most of under the cut isn't relevant i just like to ramble about the boys and their dynamic <3 )
but anyways! back to you being my starlight starbright:
lately...i've just been having so much anxiety and imposter syndrome about my writing -- it's bad to the point where when i posted rm6 like two days ago, where i was supposed to be happy and in high spirits, i was so nervous and anxious ( it's this dull, awful ache in my sternum ) that i spent the day pacing w/ my heart racing, ugh. </3
because my brain is so bad, it's hard for me to convince myself when i post that i made the right creative decisions, that you guys are enjoying where the story is going, that it makes sense etc.
so when i get really nice asks like this one from you ( mon ange ) telling me directly that you enjoyed the chapter...oh my god, i feel so much better i can't even tell you. i was really worried people didn't like it or it was too weird bc...its a lot, but...it was cute!
we got to see who raven is offstage and see hes stan and hes a literal angel! that hes down to earth and a fucking loser and so wonderful!!!
i can not tell you guys how painful it was for me just to feed you those starboy snippets of raven being rizzgod and all untouchable and sexy
because...yes he did that thing...but when hes not doing that thing...hes watering his plants and singing to them and wearing the big anime boy tee-shirts and crying and using a tortilla chip as a fork.
so this update!!! meant a lot to me because we got to watch stan be himself and be embarrassing and slip on every surface whilist actually fruedian slipping w/ kyle bc hes so nervous around him and be a lover boy and a crybaby and a crunchy nerdy nervy plant boy
and we also got to watch how the affects kyle, who thinks he knows everything, but then gets immediately humbled because ravenstan is not like the awful ravenraven he made up in his brain who he hates vs. the nice cute awkward boy in his living room who lies badly when nervous, brought him a succulent and is actually...sort of lovely?
...but when you're on a hate with your best friend who you don't know is dead and are a cynical skeptical messticle of a man and having your phantom theres stan syndrome flaire up everytime a literal celebrity smiles or bites his lip and looks like...Your Stan...its...not fun.
but more on that later! next chapter, the boys call ike! which! yay!
but x 2, thank you for being so kind. i seriously thought people were like not enjoying it or the plot progession or thought it was underwhelming/too choppy/messy. so this means a lot to me!
tldr: ravenstan is actually a sweet, sloppy, pathetic nervous wreck and jerseykyle, if nothing else ( sorry king ) is eating his words, because he just might be enjoying his horrible little hate...w/ a deplorable boy who is being weirdly adorable ...
enough to forgive and pardon the most criminal offense outlined in the extensive k.b law handbook...
being ~fashionably~ late :) <3
( and recklessly rizzing him in spanish without a license )
my boys my boys my boys,
uncle nina <3333333
p.s. thank you again for enjoying the update i'm glad you liked weird boy raven i love him so much hes so cute we will see more of him <3
#i have so much to say abt their relationship and how it develops its just so...kyle is so confused and cynical abt it#like his brain is spliting in half like ravens the one being nervous but its actually making kyle SUPER nervous bc hes like#why isnt he being awful what the fuck is wrong with him why is he being nice to me why does he remind me of stan what kind of game is this#his phantom theres stan! disorder be wildin like#gdi can this guy who i thought was hot but a tool and annoying go back to doing and not cute and sweet and pretty#can he stop reminding me of everything i loved about my best friend who is dead like fuck you clozapine nice try bitch#but yeah nerd raven rights! he knows all the scientific plant names volunteers at so many animal shelters is so clumsy and embarrassing#hes a pr disaster but its not bc hes mean its bc hes a chaotic bisexual disaster boy who just wants do everything right#and accidentally does everything wrong :( but hes very endearing and so so nice i swear#he be melting kyles heart he be confusing his brain raven did the stan wowza and his heart was RACING#raven: uses the super sexy rockstar voice to try and rizz kyle#kyle: moderately turned on but mostly pissed off#ravenstan: gets nervous and goes i like your ears! you look like an elf! i meant i like ur hair! its so pretty when its up! or d-down!#whichever! you always look good! not that i look all the time i look a normal amount i am SO normal!!! haha *starts coughing*#kyle: not pissed off at all more than moderately turned on also wants to kiss him extremely bad on all surfaces#slay olay baby!
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theinfinitedivides · 10 months
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can't believe the writers of BH got to episode 12 and decided 'aight ykw maybe the king does have a few functioning braincells in him' and dumped all of that on us in the last fifteen minutes
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barbieaemond · 4 months
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Lykirī
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PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint
WORD COUNT: 8.9k
Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)
MASTERLIST
taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee
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"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."
Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.
Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.
"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”
The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.
The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.
You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.
Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."
Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"
The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.
Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.
"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."
"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."
Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”
"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"
He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.
You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.
“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.
“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”
“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?
It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.
“Lay on the bed.”
With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?
“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.
Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.
As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”
Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”
Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.
Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.
Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.
“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.
You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”
He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.
One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”
It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.
“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.
“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.
Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.
He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.
Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.
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The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.
"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"
"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.
"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."
"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."
"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."
At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.
The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.
The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.
The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.
The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.
It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.
That was indeed the good part.
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“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.
It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.
“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”
His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.
“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”
The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.
“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”
“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”
"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."
"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."
His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.
He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.
And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.
He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.
It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.
She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.
“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”
You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”
You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”
Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”
You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.
“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.
He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.
“Aemond, I don’t think—”
“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.
Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.
Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.
He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.
“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”
She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.
She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”
There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.
“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”
You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.
“Above them. Above the Gods.”
“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”
He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”
“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”
He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”
“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”
You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”
The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.
A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.
Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.
“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”
Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.
He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.
Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.
You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.
It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.
And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.
And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.
“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.
You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.
You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."
Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.
But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.
You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.
“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“
But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.
Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”
“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.
“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”
He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.
Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."
“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.
“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.
“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”
You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”
He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”
Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.
He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.
He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.
And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.
“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”
Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.
“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.
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It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.
"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.
Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.
You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.
"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."
"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.
You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"
He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."
"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."
He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.
You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.
“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.
“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.
But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”
You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.
When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.
"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"
You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."
"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"
You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."
"Neither does you."
"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."
"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.
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You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.
You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.
"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."
You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.
Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."
"What?"
She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."
"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.
"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."
You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.
"It is too soon to talk about love."
"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."
You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.
But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.
"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."
"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."
You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."
Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."
"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."
Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"
A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"
"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.
"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."
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That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.
You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.
"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"
"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.
You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."
He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.
"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.
"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"
"I was in the library."
"For four hours?"
"It was a tough read—"
He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 
Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.
"Aemond, what's going on?"
"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."
You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."
You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."
"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.
He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."
There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."
He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.
The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.
“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”
“Yes.”
"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"
"I wish to conquer, not claim."
He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.
"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."
He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.
You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.
You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...
"Can I take it off?"
There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.
"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."
"It is not pleasant."
"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."
He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.
A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.
You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."
His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.
And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.
"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.
"Lykirī."
His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."
He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."
“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”
He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.
But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.
He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.
He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.
He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.
“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”
But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.
“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.
“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.
“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.
You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.
Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”
You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.
“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.
Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.
Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.
His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.
You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.
He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”
It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.
You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.
He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.
“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.
“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”
“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.
“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”
“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.
“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”
You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."
Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.
You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.
“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”
But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.
“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"
You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.
"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.
He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.
And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 
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Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
Note
We’ve seen rabid lado’s girlfriend but what about rabid Lando about his girlfriend
Hi hello welcome back to the universe of feral!reader
Y/n’s Biggest Fangirl (Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Part 3) (LN4)
Summary: A look into the times when Lando was feral for his own girlfriend.
Warnings: suggestive comments, language, the drivers being scared and nervous for the sanity of lando and y/n, Alex says “kms” once and its very loosely used plz don’t do anything like that ever ty
Note: Here are the links to the other parts! Part 1 Part 2 also there is no face claim for this its just blonde, faceless women but you can imagine anyone <3
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landonorris if i speak….
Comments:
y/nnn oh! so j to fill everyone in, i sent this to him (one of my friends took it on a girls night) he responded back with some very… um… not safe for work messages
- Mclarensgirly leak them.
- landonorris she leaks them and my entire career is ruined fr
- f1fan2024 y/n. leak. them.
- y/nnn guys. yall know how crazed i am but even i wont leak these texts.
- Mclarensgirly 😟
- f1fan2024 🤨📸
oscarpiastri you are aware this is your MAIN insta account right?
- landonorris yes.
mclaren calling the psych ward brb
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landonorris who wants to guess where i wish my hand was
Comments:
oscarpiastri THIS IS YOUR MAIN FUCKING INSTA ACCOUNT
danielricciardo mate…
maxverstappen man wtf im just trying to enjoy my winter break
- f1fan34 MAX 😭
y/nnn lando i sent this picture to you out of kindness….
- landonorris and you think I’d do what with it??? Keep it in my camera roll??
y/b/f_username there’s something off balance in your brain but im happy you know how hot your girlfriend is 🔫
- landonorris SMOKIN. DROP DEAD. MOUTH WATERING. DELICIOUS. EXQUISITE. GODDESS. BEAUTIFUL. STUNNING. GORGEOUS. GOURMET.
- y/nnn why am i a meal
- landonorris cause i wanna eat you up
- alexalbon this interaction has made me want to rip my skin off #vomiting 🙁
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landonorris mommy
Comments:
alexalbon #kms
- oscarpiastri #😟
- danielricciardo #maininstaaccount
- landonorris #mygfishot
y/nnn alr babe that’s enough screen time for you today
- landonorris no <3
mclaren can we live?
Mclarensgirly uh…..
- op81andln4 ok but like… i want him to call me mommy
- Mclarensgirly that’s weird (I’d kill for him to call me mommy)
- oscarpiastri see what you’ve done landonorris?
- landonorris I don’t see a problem.
- maxverstappen GET THIS MAN TO THE ER JESUS CHRIST
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landonorris prettier than the Trevi Fountain 🫶🏻
Comments:
y/nnn i got the notification he posted, got terrified, then opened it and my heart warmed ☺️
- Mclarensgirly HER INSTA NOTIFS ARE ON FOR HIM 🤭
- landonorris so are mine for her tf
mclaren this works
- landonorris I’ll be back at it again soon dw
- oscarpiastri i will never get a chance to experience what true peace feels like.
F1fan2024 get you a man who will call you mommy and prettier than the trevi fountain on separate occasions in the span of a week
alexalbon i like this one!
- landonorris that’s my gf back off bitch.
- alexalbon damn.
y/nnn dw guys i just sent him another pic of me getting ready to go out with the girls
- landonorris BARK BARK
- danielricciardo #whereisthenearestbombshelter
- maxverstappen #itsover
- oscarpiastri #landomakesmescared
- landonorris #youwishyouwereme❤️
2K notes · View notes
tswhiisftteedr · 3 months
Text
Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot
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☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :
They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?
Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.
Words: 2330
Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!
Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.
Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’
And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.
Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.
As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.
Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.
In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.
“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had  no idea  what  you had done to be a tease in this particular  situation.
While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.
“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’
“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.
“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.
“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.
"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.
"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.
"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"
You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.
"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.
Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.
You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.
"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.
Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.
As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.
And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.
"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."
"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.
The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.
Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.
Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."
While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.
With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.
His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.
“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"
“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”
"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"
"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."
“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”
“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.
"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."
"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.
You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.
He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.
Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.
Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.
"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.
"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.
Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.
As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.
“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.
In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.
"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.
And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"
You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."
"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.
With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.
Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."
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After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.
“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.
“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.
“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.
Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’
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Thanks @starlightfire97 for requesting!
©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.
Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie
You can now commission me!
Tag list for Adam: @sunflower-lilly @moonbloom226
Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)
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angelltheninth · 7 months
Text
Rough Interrogation Session with Wriothesley
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, rough sex, creampie, handcuffs, getting captured, enemies who fuck, body betrayal, aftercare, kissing, clit stimulation, pregnancy mention, degradation, name calling, size kink
A/N: I... yeah... uhm... I have needs and he can fulfill them.
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Wriothesley was never gentle with you when you crossed paths and it was how you preferred it. You never wanted him to go easy on you because you were sure you would never break, even if captured, no matter what he did to get the truth out of you. You were ready for yelling, arguments, teasing him and getting his cock hard with your words alone just like always but you never expected him to do anything about it. He never did, but he seemed more then fed up with you now.
"Think I'm gonna tolerate a disrespectful little bitch? You've had it easy for long enough sweetheart, now you need to be honest with me. And if you my words won't convince you then maybe I can fuck it out of you. Or your brains out. Which ever is first."
The handcuffs were cold, hard and impossible to break out of, binding your hands behind the interrogation chair, leaving you with no way to stop him from spreading your legs. With the way your heart beat against your chest you were sure you were gonna pass out before you felt his dick. Such a shame because you wanted it since you saw him, since you first ran from him. It was a lot bigger then you thought, enough to split you open if he wasn't careful, and Wriothesley didn't look like he was in the careful mood. Your panties ripped to shreds you had no way of covering up the fact that your pussy drooled for him and the anticipation of his cock. It was shameful, the feeling settled in your cheeks, in your chest but it also made you wetter.
"Show a whore a cock and she folds right away. So predictable. Nu-uh, no use trying to hide it, you dry humped me more then once while we were fighting. Now you finally get what you want, your punishment for not collaborating. Fact is, you could have made this easy, you could have told me what I wanted to know, but no, you have to be a little slut, you have to get fucked by me. It's what you secretly needed all this time."
Like you thought, he's not gentle, he's not caring, his cock balls deep inside you, his hands leaving imprints on your legs. With the strength he was thrusting into you it was wonder that the chair didn't break. It was either the chair or you. He didn't care which one it was honestly, because regardless you wouldn't be able to get away. This was a different kind of intensity from him then you're used to, you could slowly feel your mind going blank, pussy squeezing around him and at the same time hating how much you wondered what it would be like to be filled with cum. Wriothesley's cum, inside you, stuffing you full. No, you couldn't, you shouldn't bend to his will, you couldn't let him win this.
"No? No? Why are you lying to yourself? Telling my no but squeezing me with that tight little hole. Stop denying it, you want to be my cumslut don't you? Every time I thrust your cunt gets tighter, it doesn't want my cock to leave. Quit being stubborn when your body, your mind, your heart and your cunt keep saying yes, yes, yes, fuck!"
You had the urge to lock your legs closed but his body was in the way, so instead it made it seem like you were pulling him closer. You hated to admit it but you were, you wanted him closer despite everything and he obliged. Almost too softly he pressed his lips against yours as he moved his cock in and out, the tip never getting all the way out but that way okay, you didn't want him to. And that right there, that realization made you whimper for him. So embarrassing, how easy it was for him to make you come. Wriothesley leaned his forehead against yours, hands moving up and down your legs before his fingers pressed against your clit, your hips reacting on their own, grinding as best as you could.
"Not saying no anymore are you? Thought so. I'm not done yet. I'm not gonna be done until you're nice and full. Oh, you though I would let you go already? No, I'm gonna take you home after this, I'll make you mine, and only after this pretty belly is round and pregnant will I send you crawling back to your lackies so they can see you spend months with my cock inside of you."
3K notes · View notes
kittenintheden · 2 months
Text
Ethics Review
Dave Matthews voice: I DID IT
Tav (reader) and Astarion pay his old office at the Courts a visit in the middle of the night for funsies and things get spicy.
aka it's the switchy bitchy magistrate roleplay fic
Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Pairing: Astarion/reader (Tav) Content: 18+, light BDSM elements, sexual roleplay, bitches be switches, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, light edgeplay, oral sex, PIV sex (AFAB reader, not gendered)
AO3 Link
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It’s late, but then, it’s always late when you’re out with Astarion these days. By necessity, mostly, but also because it’s the best time for the pair of you to get up to your more unsavory plans without catching the watchful eye of the newly-reformed Fist.
“Where are you taking me?” you laugh as you follow him through a series of dark alleys. “This better not end with me having to send for Gale to get your hand out of another magicked jar.”
“Never going to let me live that down, are you?” He looks over his shoulder and gives you an affectionate smirk.
“Not ever.”
Astarion peers around the corner of a brown brick building, checking that the coast is clear. To you, he says, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving soul.”
“Ah, yes,” you agree, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling his neck. “Two of your most obvious and accurate qualities.”
He chuckles. “We’re almost there. Come on.”
A labyrinthine dozen alleyways later, you’re deposited in an open square, quiet and still. The cobblestones are dark with recent rain, sending their petrichor scent into the air. As you follow Astarion out into the space, you realize where you are. It’s the Courthouse District of the Lower City, where people are tried and held for petty crimes that aren’t suitable for Wyrm’s Rock.
You huff a laugh through your nose and look over at your partner with a raised eyebrow. “Did you need to tell me something? Have a court date you forgot to mention?”
“Hush,” he playfully scolds you, holding a finger up to his lips. “Let me think a moment.”
He peers up at a particular building on the square and furrows his brow, closing his eyes and moving his hands through the air. You fold your arms and watch as he moves his fingers like he’s following a path only he can see, turning corners and raising level by level. At last, he opens his eyes, and points at window on the third floor, two in from the corner.
“That one,” he says.
“That one what?” you prompt.
He grins devilishly. “That…” he points again. “... is my old office. I thought we might pay it a visit.”
“To what end?” you laugh.
“What can I say, I’m feeling a touch nostalgic these days.” He keeps his eye on the window and beckons you to follow closer to the building. “Something about my old haunts is calling to me.”
Behind where he can’t see, you pay him an affectionate smile. In the last year or so since the fall of the Nether Brain, you’ve seen the city rebuilt and gone on your fair share of adventures and quests, always searching for some way to give Astarion back the sunlight you promised him. No luck yet, but there have been promising leads here and there. It’s not a lost cause. Not yet.
The last few months in particular have seen certain changes in your lover. The terror and fear he carried for so long clung to him like a shadow, and ever so slowly it’s beginning to lift. His laugh is more present than before, more real. The intimate moments you share are filled with trust and care, even as you get more comfortable pushing a few boundaries here and there.
Most of all, he’s been remembering. Not everything. There are parts of his past forever lost to him, written over by more years of torment than he ever had of life. But there’ve been flashes every now and again of who he used to be. Some of them he likes, some he loathes. He doesn’t always talk about it, but you know being able to pick up a piece once in a while has meant a great deal to him.
So you follow along with whatever little game he has planned.
He walks along the building, scanning the brick for footholds. Just as he puts his hand on a storm drain and tenses to leap, you halt him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks back at you, you flick your eyes up toward the window.
“Three up, two in from then end?” you ask.
He nods.
“Allow me, love.”
You hold up your hand and cobalt magic pools in your palm, forming into a sphere. You send it up above you, the arcane eye floating until it finds the correct window before it slips inside. You blink, your own eyes glowing blue as you use your magic to scan the room. It’s certainly an office of some sort.
Astarion takes your hand when you hold it out for him and instantly you’re transported inside the office thanks to a handy little dimensional door spell you picked up on one of your many adventures. You wave away the arcane eye and give Astarion a wink.
He smirks and shakes his head at you. “Take all of the fun out of the thing, why don’t you,” he says through his smile. “Suppose I’ll have to make do with checking that the place isn’t alarmed. Alas.”
The place is, indeed, alarmed. Astarion manages to disarm two common magic wires and one trickier sending stone scattered throughout the room. You reach out through the Weave for any other whispers of magic. Some artifacts and lightly magical office supplies. Nothing worrisome.
Once you’re both satisfied that you won’t end up immediately arrested, Astarion moves to the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You’re quiet as he scans the walls, turning in a slow circle as he takes everything in. His fangs flash as he gives a quiet laugh.
“The layout is different, and the color,” he says. “But yes, this is the place.” He furrows his brow slightly and holds out his hands, eyes on the floor. “I… worked here. Me. A magistrate.” His eyes find you and his smile widens. “It was a lie for so much longer than it was a reality. But it was a reality, once upon a time.”
“I’m surprised,” you say, folding your arms and nonchalantly stepping closer. “The way you spoke and dressed when we first met, I thought you must’ve been an Upper City fancy defending-the-powerful type.”
Astarion clicks his tongue at you. “Now, don’t be judgmental. That’s my job.” He waves a hand through the air. “I was quite young in my career, but I was working my way up. All the way to the third floor, thank you.”
You come in to wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Genuinely.”
He spreads his fingers over your forearm, pressing his lips to your hair. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.” He clears his throat and removes your arms, backing away from you with a toss of his head. “But don’t be too proud. I wasn’t exactly a… what’s the term? Model citizen.”
Astarion begins to walk around the small table with four chairs set in the center of the room.
“Oh?” you say, walking around the other side to mirror him. “Were you terribly corrupt?”
He pauses and tilts his head, shrugging. “‘Terribly’ is such a strong word, isn’t it? Lets just say I may have been known to, ah… sway the odds in my favor.”
You stop and look across the table at him. “What do magistrates even do, exactly? What did you do, specifically?”
“An absolutely stupid amount of paperwork, as I recall,” he says. “At least, I certainly remember hating every scrap that came across the desk. Meting out appropriate punishment for any minor and petty crime you can think of, most of them horrifically boring. But…” He leans over the table and holds up a finger. “... sometimes I got to conduct interviews to determine if crime was worthy of Wyrm’s Rock, and I was very good at getting the verdict I wanted.”
You rather like seeing this side of Astarion. Honest pride, confidence, and authority. The tip of your tongue runs along your bottom lip as you take in your love leaning over that table, dappled in moonlight. Gods, he’s beautiful.
“And how did you do that?” You pop your hip and raise your thumb to your mouth, teasing your lip as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “Exactly?”
Astarion notices the shift in your demeanor immediately, his own eyes going half-lidded as they track the path of your hand to your mouth. His grin goes predatory and he leans back so he can come around the table to you and pull out the chair.
“Please, darling,” he says, nodding for you to sit. “Let’s talk, you and I.”
You pay him a sultry smile and sink into the chair, which he pushes in under you. Then he walks back around to the other side with his spine straight, hands folded behind his back.
A new game begins.
Astarion rolls out his shoulders as if he’s shedding a coat. When he turns to look at you, he does so down the length of his nose, his hard gaze making it clear that he thinks you beneath him.
You shiver as a thrill runs down your back and attempt to hide it.
He shakes his head above you, tutting. You’ve disappointed him.
Instinctively, you shrink into your chair slightly as he leans forward and places the tips of his fingers against the table in front of him, continuing to lower his face until it’s a mere foot from yours.
“A pathetic display back there,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “Your associates have hung you out to dry. You do know that…” He tilts his head. “... don’t you?”
You swallow the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Silly little patsy,” he chides as he straightens to glare down at you again. “Such stars in your eyes for friends who would sooner see you burn than stick their necks out for you.”
“I’m not telling you anything,” you say, raising your eyes to him in defiance even as you let a waver of nerves shake your voice.
“What must it be like to be so tragically misguided?” he sneers. It’s like an echo of a man you once knew. One you met on a sunny beach amid burning wreckage.
You blink up at him, eyes going soft. “I can’t betray them.”
“Betray them,” he breathes, huffing a mirthless laugh as he leans one hand onto a nearby chair. “My dear, they are in the next room, and the room after that, giving you up as we speak. No loyalty among thieves, I fear.”
“No,” you gasp. “They wouldn’t.”
Astarion holds a finger up to his lips, shushing you. “I think you know better than that. But fine, have it your way. Don’t give them up to save your own hide. Let me sweeten the pot.”
He turns his body so he can side-sit on the table and put his first knuckle under your chin, lifting it so he can inspect you. The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Gold to line your pockets, perhaps?”
Though you try to stop it, your body betrays you as a bright blush blooms across your nose and cheeks. Astarion’s pupils dilate above you.
“Or something else entirely?” he whispers, tilting his mouth closer to yours. “I’d much sooner send those two cads to Wyrm’s Rock in your place. Help me, and maybe you and I could have a bit of…” His eyes trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and beyond before he looks back into your eyes. “... fun in celebration.”
“Why would you do that for me?” you whisper back.
He shrugs. “What can I say? I rather like you. Plus, I might get a little kickback in the form of a promotion for bringing in two thorns in the Fist’s side, but that’s neither here nor there.” He rolls his eyes and pays you a flirtatious smile on the last bit.
And that… is your opening.
Your expression grows serious and you note the moment that Astarion’s eyebrows give the briefest twitch of concern.
"You've overplayed your hand, Magistrate Ancunín," you say.
Astarion draws his hand back and gives you a perplexed look. “Have I?”
You smile, then. Calm and dangerous. "I've been sent by the Board of Ethics, you see."
Astarion is thrown by this turn, but he recovers quickly, offering a simpering smile. "Oh? Oh, dear. Seems I've been caught with my pants down."
You stand, holding his eye. "Indeed. Best go place your hands on the desk where I can see them."
With a flourish, he holds his hands up for you to see. No funny business, none at all. He goes to the desk and spreads his palms flat against the polished wood. He must feel the heat of your skin as you come close, only inches away. Inspecting. Considering.
You lean in close to his ear. "Say our word if you'd like me to stop, Ancunín," you whisper.
"Stop what?" he asks.
In answer, you grab his hips and pull them flush against your own with enough force that he gasps from it, genuinely surprised. In his ear again, you whisper, "Teaching you a lesson."
You release him and move to his side. He turns his head to look at you and you can see the openmouthed surprise in his face, but it’s more than that. Surprised, yes, but also open. Interested. Very turned on. You know this look.
This is Astarion’s “oh, we’re doing that thing I like?” look. It’s a good look on him.
You tap a finger on his nearest hand. “Keep these exactly where they are. I must warn you that you face serious repercussions for witness tampering. I have some questions. Answer them to my satisfaction, and I may consider…” Your gaze trails down to the front of his trousers, which are straining. When you meet his eye again, you add, “... reinstatement.”
Astarion tilts his chin down so he can give you a heated look. “Then by all means,” he says, lips parted. “Ask.”
“Hm,” you hum as you trail your fingers over the desk as you walk around to the other side. You mimic his stance with your hands on the table, though yours is one of authority while his is one of awaiting judgment. He tilts his head at you in question, gaze hot. You match it.
“Let’s start with an easy one.” You tilt your head toward the wall without breaking eye contact. “That placard hanging there. What is it?”
He looks and then huffs through his nose. “It’s an oath.”
You tilt your head the other way. “And what does it say?”
Astarion smirks. “‘As an officer of the Court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with integrity, dignity, and honor.’”
“That’s right,” you say, nodding. “Now tell me, Ancunín… do you feel you’ve conducted yourself in accordance with that oath?”
“Of course,” he answers without hesitation, flashing you a winning smile. “I offered you the utmost dignity and honor, did I not?”
An idea occurs to you and you imagine he catches the twinkle in your eye as you raise one of your hands to click your fingers, a glowing web of pale blue stretching to cage you both inside. Astarion frowns up at it. The moment he realizes what you’ve done, he gives you a look that’s half-exasperated and half-devious.
“What’s this?” he says, playing along.
“A little insurance policy. To ensure your adherence to honesty.” You reach to the collar of your shirt and undo one button. Then another.
Then another.
Astarion struggles to keep his eyes on your face, but when you lean back down onto the table, he can’t help but sneak a peek.
You toy with another button. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about dignity now?”
Astarion bites the corner of his lip to keep his expression serious. He keeps his eyes trained on your chest and seems to carefully consider his words before he says, “I maintain that I respect the dignity of your tits.”
That’s not what he meant to say. He blinks. His eyes flick up to yours. “Your position,” he amends.
His eyes flick back down. “Your position and your tits.”
“Ah,” you say. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. That you might be… what do they say? Dipping your wick in the law office wax.”
You stand and come back around to his side, maintaining your spell as you do. Astarion tracks you all the way back around.
“I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can be,” you say softly. “Not that you’ve much choice. So, in that case, here’s some extra… motivation.”
You’re behind him now and you hear his sharp intake of breath when he feels your palms spread over either side of his hips before moving around to the ties at the front of his trousers. You loosen them just enough to give you space.
Astarion’s knuckles are going white where he presses his fingers against the desk.
Your fingers are soft and warm against his lower abdomen as they dip below his waistband, then inside his underthings. You find what you seek and grip it firmly, fisting the length of him. He bites back a groan and flexes his hands against the wood as you draw him out into the open air. 
“You do keep it cool in here,” you whisper into his ear. You keep your touch light as you tease his cock, just enough to make him want but not nearly enough to satiate the need. “Why is that?”
Astarion swallows and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “A little discomfort loosens the tongue, I find.” He struggles to keep the breathiness out of his voice and very nearly succeeds. 
Nearly. 
Your smile is wicked. “I see. Well.”
You rest his hardened length against the varnished wood of the desk. It’s cool on his touch-warmed skin and he whines lightly as you leave him there to walk around to his other side, fingertips drawing a trail across his broad back and shoulders.
“In that case, we’ll be leaving that…” You glance down at his cock, then back at his face. “… out in the cold until you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction. Understood?”
He takes a deep breath through his nose and meets your eye. “Completely.”
“Good.” You move one of his misplaced curls back into place. “If I’m satisfied, I just might let you warm it up again. We shall see.”
“Indeed we shall,” he says, voice dropping deeper, and you can sense the challenge there. You smile as you turn away from him.
“Let’s try again,” you say. “Do you make a habit of lying to your interviewees in hopes of manipulating a confession?”
“Is ‘lying’ the word we want to use?” he says with a lilt.
“Yes.” You turn back to look at him.
He clears his throat, chewing his tongue to hide another smile before he looks away. He thinks a moment, then says, “I occasionally massage my message to pave the way for a more fruitful discussion in my favor, yes. Only in the interest of this office and my personal satisfaction.” He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.
You shake your head. “My, my. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere. Perhaps you need a reminder that I hold your immediate future in my hands?”
When you move back in and loosen his trousers still further to shove down his hips and below his arse, he wriggles to help. He seems to think he’s won this phase of the game. Adorable.
Rather than give him any relief, you reach out to the desk and pick up a wooden ruler, thin and flexible. Astarion opens his mouth, presumably to ask what you’re doing, but doesn’t get the chance as you use the flat of the ruler to give him a quick smack on his bare arse. 
He cries out in surprise and looks around at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him the opportunity to call his out. Instead, you watch his eyes darken. He’s still in. Which is good, because gods above if you aren’t beginning to make a mess of your underwear already.
“Do you understand your situation?” you ask.
“Maybe you ought to remind me again,” he rumbles.
You do, leaving another slap on his pale skin. A shiver travels up his back from the base of his spine all the way up.
“I understand,” he says.
“Very good,” you say. “Do you manipulate the outcomes of your interviews?”
“Sometimes, yes,” he says quietly, peering up at you from under his brows.
“Thank you for your honesty. With bribery?”
He nods.
You bend forward so you’re eye-to-eye. “And do you frequently offer favors of a sexual nature?”
Astarion’s gaze drops to your mouth and he blinks heavily. “That’s only for when I see someone I like,” he says.
There’s another slap to his arse, quick as reflex, and he gives a small, broken “a-ah” as he drops his head. He spoke the truth, your spell ensures that, but you want him to be more specific. You look down to see he’s subtly grinding himself against the desk, his cock beginning to weep pre-fluid as you watch.
You place the ruler against his back to hold him in place. “None of that,” you say. “Not until you clarify. Why me?”
He groans in frustration. “Because I like you. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I want to be inside you and fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both hoarse from crying our ecstasy.”
Well. The pair of underwear you’re wearing are officially done for, you fear.
“What a wicked tongue you have,” you breathe, not quite able to keep up your aura of authority. You swallow and add, “Perhaps I’ll consider letting you off with a warning if we can figure out a better use for it.”
Astarion goes to his knees so quickly it makes your head spin. You don’t hesitate to take care of the bindings on your own trousers and he’s eager to help, shoving your clothing to the floor. You’re trying to remove a boot when he presses his face into the crux of your legs and runs his tongue along the seam of you so hotly that you nearly fall over. You lean down and give him another half-hearted smack. All it does is elicit a groan against your most sensitive of places.
With some struggle, you manage to remove the boot, kick your trousers and underthings off of one leg, and hop up to sit on the desk, Astarion follows you along, refusing to let you leave him now that he’s on you. His mouth works against you on its own, tongue lapping firmly at the edges of your cunt, flushing you and making you swell. He hasn’t even touched your clit yet and you know you’re already slick with desire.
You’re so momentarily distracted that you almost miss where his hands have gone.
Chest heaving, you weakly wave to dismiss your Zone of Truth and call up your mage hand, sending it down where you can’t reach to grab the wrist of the hand Astarion’s using to pump his cock while he licks at you.
“I don’t think so,” you gasp. “Still on… probation.”
You’re losing the thread and you’re perfectly okay with it.
Astarion growls in response and comes up higher on his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you tight against his face. His tongue finally finds your center and he rolls it against your entrance, plying the place just inside that makes you go flush with arousal, your clit swelling further. Then he finally pays it attention with a light draw followed by firm circles, teasing until you feel sparkles of arcane energy tingling at your fingertips and zaps of pleasure shoot through your core.
He holds you so tight to him that there’s no escape from the assault of pleasure he’s waging on your body. All too soon, you’re whimpering as you approach your peak.
And Astarion simply stops. He leaves you there, right before the edge, and you cry out in dismay and frustration. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s on his feet and pulling you onto yours, spinning you around until your hips are pressed to the edge of the dark wood. You can feel his rock hard length against the cleft of your arse, feel the wetness at the tip of him against your lower back.
“You’ve overplayed your hand this time, I think,” he pants into your ear. “Let your guard down. What member of the Board of Ethics accepts bribes?”
When you try to wriggle free, you feel his fingers at your wrists. He takes your hands and spreads them on the desk as you’d done to him, bending you over. His hips draw back and then return and you feel his hardness drag over your folds from behind, teasing but not quite putting pressure on your clit.
His breathing is heavy, but through it, he manages, “This time, you tell me the truth. Why did you meet with me?”
“To catch you out,” you gasp. “Your behavior has been… unethical.”
“Is it unethical to recognize when someone wants your cock?” he whispers, sending a tingle over your shoulders. “Is it against my oath to offer?”
“That’s not… I didn’t…”
The head of his cock nudges your clit and you both hiss through your teeth. He pulls back until he catches at your entrance, pushing in just barely. Just enough to begin to feel him, but nowhere near enough of him. Instinctively you arch your back harder, trying to take more, but he won’t let you.
“Beg me,” he growls in your ear. “Beg me for my cock. Tell me it’s why you came here.”
Your very last thread of remaining restraint is pulled to its absolute limit, but it doesn’t break quite yet. “I came here on orders to uncover a magistrate with loose morals,” you manage.
Astarion reaches a hand up to the hair at the back of your head, grabs a handful, and gently pulls to bend your head back. Directly into your ear, he whispers, “You’ve found him. Now beg for it.”
In the quiver of his voice, you can hear that he’s the one begging you.
So you give in.
“I came here for you,” you whisper back. “Please, let me. Let me take your cock.”
His breath shudders out of him. “Take it you shall.”
Astarion thrusts his hips forward, burying himself in you, and you hardly have time to so much as gasp before he sets a punishing rhythm, one arm around your waist to hold you in place and the other one still tangled up in your hair. You arch deeply, giving him as much access as you can, and he pounds into you relentlessly. On the outskirts of your awareness, you feel bruises beginning to form on your hipbones from where they repeatedly hit the desk.
You don’t care one whit.
He keeps you bent over the desk, your palms spread to keep you both upright as he fucks you hard, his moans trapped behind his clenched teeth. As you fly full speed back to your edge, he removes the hand from your head and absently places it over your mouth to muffle your own escalating cries.
The coil of your climax tightens and Astarion begins to mutter a steady mantra of “yes, yes, yes, gods, yes” beside your ear. He presses himself all the way to the hilt and rocks, the base of him stretching you just right and his balls pressed firm to your clit and there, oh there, it’s right-
You scream behind Astarion’s palm as you come, the delicious tension boiling and spilling over as contractions roll through you, pleasure washing over your body with every heartbeat. You nearly blank out for a second and when you blink back down, your lover continues to pump into you as he chases his own end.
With a shaking hand, you call up your mage hand from where it shimmers nearby and press it to his chest, pushing back with soft pressure.
“No,” Astarion whines, attempting one or two more thrusts before you back him up. “No, please, please, I didn’t finish, I-”
You turn, bottomless and eyes full of fuck and revenge, and add your own hands to the mix, all three pushing him back until he hits the deposition table, going flat on his back. You crawl up over him and straddle him, up on your knees just out of reach.
You look down upon him, beautiful and fucked out in the moonlight. “Do you regret any of it?” you say.
“I’m regretting a lot of my decisions at the moment,” he snarks. His lips part as he breathes.
With a smile, you roll your hips just enough to catch the head of his cock back at your opening. “Do you regret any of it?” you repeat.
He pants, looking up at you. Then he reaches up to grip the front of your shirt and pull you down over him in a searing kiss. When you break, he whispers, “No. Not a moment. It brought me to you.”
You roll back, sinking down onto him. He gasps and throws his arms around you, helping you get back into rhythm, and he’s so close that it’s barely any time at all before he arches his back clear up off the table and groans as he spills inside of you, the relief painted across every inch of his face. He comes for nearly a minute, twitching and humming beneath you until he finally relaxes into a boneless heap.
When he next opens his eyes, you lean down and catch him in another kiss.
The pair of you have barely redressed and cast a few prestidigitation cantrips as a courtesy before there’s a sound somewhere down the hall. Footsteps. Coming closer.
“Shit,” Astarion whispers, startled. He grabs your hand and spins you both into a dim corner of the room before you both cast Invisibility. Just in the nick of time, it appears, because there’s a jangle of keys and then a harried-looking halfling comes bustling into the room, dark bags under their eyes.
They grumble to themselves for a moment, going to a box to sort through files. They don’t find what they’re looking for and move on to the desk. Once there, they open a drawer, then wrinkle their nose.
“Bleeding hells, it smells like sex in here,” they grumble. “Gonna tell Jackobson that Cole has been using his office again. Teach that arsehole for making me come fetch the file he forgot.”
The halfling pulls a file from the drawer, slams it, and exits the room.
Neither of you move for the rest of the minute your invisibility lasts. As soon as the cloaking spell fades, you both collapse to the floor in quiet giggles. You kiss Astarion through your laughter, again and again.
It’s nice to see this side of him.
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toji-girl · 2 months
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alpaha! t. fushiguro
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tags: 18+ only content - minors dni + repost from my old blog + omega! fem reader + omega verse + explicit smut + degradation such as breeding bitch and slut but he doesn’t mean it + breeding + you’re in heat + no prep + he holds your throat + teasing + knotting + so self-indulgent + pup pet name
This is such a bad idea, quite perhaps the dumbest one he’s ever agreed to but there was no way he could tell an old friend no, not when he’s helped him countless times and there was something in it for him still.
“Are you sure?” Toji asked as he stood on your front porch waiting for a response and he knew his friend knew about his feelings towards you, but your husband didn’t trust anyone else to do this but him.
He could hear Shiu groan on the other side of the phone wishing it didn’t have to come to this. The mere thought of Toji touching you, his precious wife in heat made his skin crawl. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Toji chuckled and leaned his massive frame against the doorway bringing up a large fist to knock on the door. “She’s not going to be able to answer, just walk inside. She’s well aware of what’s going to happen.” Shiu told the other man getting a hum in response.
Your husband could hear you whining on the other side of the phone, it was pitiful the way you sounded and howled almost as the unbearable heat coursed through your entire body, liquid desire creating a pool of slick in your drenched panties.
But what he couldn’t do was smell you like Toji. He stopped in his tracks when he stepped inside, your musk hit him like a fist in the gut. It was so strong, and he could hear you begging for relief.
“Fushiguro. Fuck her then leave. Do not overstay your welcome.” Toji chuckled again and smirked as he walked to your bedroom slowly listening to you moan with no shame as you humped whatever it was.
He hung up on your husband and slid his phone into his pocket. His friend is long gone and will be for a while, and what kind of alpha male would he be if he left you alone and vulnerable in bed?
When the door pushed open your head snapped up, your entire face flushed and your eyes wild as you stopped your movements while your husband’s best friend stared at you with a cocky grin. He towered above you when he walked in closer. “You poor thing.”
It was a sight to behold. You with a pillow between your legs as you curled up in a faux nest of Shiu’s shirts with your face nuzzled into the fabric to help simulate his scent into coaxing you into coming.
If you could do that maybe you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now, and maybe if you would’ve taken the pills Toji wouldn’t be here as he watched you hump the pillow unashamedly. “H-help please.”
You looked up at him with wet eyes knowing why Toji was here. Shiu had called him earlier today when you informed him of your situation, and knowing he couldn’t leave he had his friend help out instead.
Toji’s nostrils flared when breathed in your heady scent, and his chest rose up and down fast and hard the more your sweet slick poured from your pussy that gushed the more you rode the pillow. “Stop.”
He wasn’t your alpha, nor had he marked you, so you didn’t have to do what he said, but his tone was something you didn’t want to argue so you stopped and whined. “Pitiful crybaby needing to be knotted.”
After knowing Toji for so long you didn’t care how he spoke to you or if he did at all if that meant you get to get fucked dumb, that was the only thing your mushy brain could muster up. “Yes! I want your knot!”
You also hated the way you sounded begging for another man’s knot. “I should mark you myself, you’re in heat so it would be the perfect time. You could be me and Shiu’s sweet little plaything.” He voiced.
He dropped his hand down to the crown of your head petting it. You felt his fingers tease your bare back until he reached the globe of your ass grabbing it in one large palm before the pillow was tugged from between your legs, the fabric brushed against your clit painfully.
Your pussy wept around nothing from the idea of two knots filling you to the brim made your back bow at the simple thought of it, how full you would feel and how many orgasms can they both give you?
“Oh. You like that, don’t you? I wonder if Shiu knows how needy his little wife is for some dick.” Toji mused when his palm cupped your wet cunt as he still stood on the side of the bed never moving.
You wanted to growl and snap at him for being so cocky and he’s barely even done anything to deserve your submission or attention. “He is my husband after all I think he knows already.” You hissed.
He growled low in his throat as Toji settled himself on the bed feeling his cock throb between thick powerful thighs, his sack was swollen with the need to empty his cum into something wet and warm.
“You’re acting like a desperate little housewife whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.” Toji told you with a click of his tongue as he pushed your face into the mattress. “Spread ‘em.”
His hands skated along your back as you arched it for him pressing your ass against the soft material of his sweats. Your fingers curled into the sheets with an irritated huff. “So fuckin’ impatient, don’t you want to cum on my fingers or something sweet thing?” He hummed.
You shook your head side to side wildly humping the air now wondering why he hasn’t ravaged you yet. Is it because you’re both not mated? Your scent should be driving him wild yet he’s acting cool.
With your ass perched high in the air Toji spread your cheeks open to get a good look at your aching cunt, he could see your clit throb and pulse with the need to be touched. Your smell ingrained inside him.
“Holy fuck, don’t think I could focus on eating your cute pussy anyway when you want to be fucked dumb isn’t that right pup?” He asked and let his hand rest on your throat as the other removed his cock from the confines of his pants with a deep growl.
He ground his leaking tip along the curve of your ass before Toji grabbed the base of his cock feeling his knot as he tapped the tapered tip against your skin. It felt hot to the touch as did you.
It was growing to the point where you couldn’t handle it anymore, fat tears streamed down your face in rivers. “Please please just fuck me I need your dick inside me so bad it hurts! Toj!” You cried out sharply.
How can he tell you no when you beg like that? His green eyes were glassy as he watched your hole stretch around him then shrink back down in size when he pulled away. “Stop teasing me!” You grunted.
“You should be embarrassed acting like this for another man’s knot. Not demanding me to do anything, remember who the alpha is here?“ He questioned as he bottomed out in one thrust.
Your head snapped back when Toji got to the hilt, his sack rested against you as he moved one hand to your throat holding it gently, never applying any pressure but you could feel his claws still.
You both waited for a moment letting you mold around his cock before he found a fast and frenzied pace, the hand that was on your throat moved to the back of your head pushing it into the pillows muffling your loud cries and whines for him to go deeper.
Toji planted one foot flat on the bed and the other stayed bent as he fucked you from behind like you were his wife, the smell of your sweet slick hung like a heavy perfume, one that he wanted to drown himself in.
The bed creaked and rocked with each thrust sending the nightstands to topple over, the items on top fell to the floor as Toji held your hips now dragging you up and down his dick hearing you.
"Hear how wet you are? Does Shiu fuck you this good?” He asked bending over and pressing his chest against your back, his hot breath fanned against your ear as he mounted you more, going deeper.
You grabbed at the wooden bars of the headboard and tried to meet his sloppy thrusts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. It was like he knew you wanted to be fucked like this with no mercy of any.
Shiu was sweet always, always treating you like fragile glass despite telling him you could handle more even when you were in heat like this. You love him but he can’t fulfill the animalistic side of you.
Toji’s fingers slipped against your arousal when his hand found itself between your legs to rub at your swollen clit before he pinched it gently. “You feel so good around me pup, too bad I didn’t make you my breeding little bitch, get your belly all round with my litter.”
Your pussy clamped down around him trying to pull more of his cock inside you at the thought it, your brain could only think of being bred like you were meant to. You sobbed at the idea feeling your body shudder and shake when he stroked a certain spot inside you.
You never thought that this would happen in your marriage to Shiu when you met him at the club years ago ironically enough with Toji who was in a relationship at the time and now he’s the one fucking you instead of your husband and you shouldn’t enjoy it as much.
So why do you? Why do you arch more into Toji wanting to feel him inside your womb? He fucked you unhinged, his head thrown back as sweat plastered his hair to his forehead feeling your cunt pulse and clench so tightly around him it feels like you’re going to rip his dick off.
You’ve never been fucked this way and while granted you were in heat and would never do this if you weren’t the feeling of Toji would now be the only thing you would want when you get into such a state.
Your body would only crave him, how deep his dick reached, and how good he made you feel with each thrust and roll of his hips. His dirty whispering in your ear made you weep. “You’re going to be my good girl and take my knot in that gushing cunt of yours until you’re full.”
It was sinful the way he ground against you when he pulled away slamming your ass against his hips watching the flesh jiggle, his green eyes flicked down to his cock seeing a white creamy ring.
Truly it was a bad idea to do this Toji knew when he first sheathed himself inside you, he was going to be chasing you like a dog chasing its own tail regardless of your own alpha husband or the rules.
They were meant to be broken, weren’t they? You could feel the tip of his swollen and sticky cock kiss your cervix. “It’s like you knew you had to be put in this position to get thoroughly bred. Good girl.”
His praise made you howl as did his degradation. Something that Shiu never really dips into. “Do you love letting another man cum in your cunt that’s supposed to belong to your husband? If only he could see how you look - shit - maybe we should video call him?”
Toji got his answer when your pussy squeezed him tightly and your blown-out glassy eyes met with his when you looked over your shoulder, you looked like such a fucked-out mess it made him grin.
“Yes! I love getting knotted by you Toji! Please mark me!” You sobbed and weakly pulled away from him when he stopped his movements at your request. Marking another alpha’s omega is something that has happened before and left with packs and marriages breaking.
He looked at you and cocked his head to the side, his tongue glided over his sharp canines wondering how sweet and supple your skin felt and how easily it would break to take his mark and make you his.
This has to be the dumbest idea he’s ever had, the second one was coming here getting a feel of you. “Want me to make you all mine? What about Shiu? I don’t think he’d like that much pup.” He countered somehow using what was left of his sanity as you fucked him.
“Don’t care, you both can share me and give me litters! I’m so close please please please!” Your voice was hoarse as you bounced yourself up and down the length of Toji’s cock feeling his knot swell and grow.
He pushed all of himself inside you at the right time feeling your cunt milk him, his knot slipped in right after swelling as he came which filled you to the brim like you wanted. The both of you panted as Toji situated you and him in a spooning position to let his knot settle.
You held onto his arms feeling spent and exhausted, but you still wanted more and Toji knew that the moment you pushed back against him after a few moments. “Take care of me Toji, need an alpha so bad to stay here in bed and breed me over and over again.”
“How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?” He whispered in your ear letting you ride him this time taking as many orgasms as you wanted.
yeah so I tried to look up more info on this and I couldn’t find a lot so please take my made-up knowledge of omega verse lmaoo!
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insanityisfine · 4 months
Note
Ohhh while Jesse is with Delilah she and Ash are kind of awkward around each other and Jesse tries not to act too much like a mom cause she knows that'd be weird and besides Delilah is the kids mom not her....
Then one of other rockets like Cassidy or Bitch try to attack the kid while Jesse is there (maybe he's hurt or something from a stunt he pulled and she came to check on him?) And she just goes full protective mama bear mode and kicks their asses barehanded because how *dare* they attack her kid?!?
James and Meowth are recording and eating popcorn on the side.
Following Kiana's (head)canon, Cassidy and Butch also left Team Rocket, and I personally like that path for them. I see them being ~fancy~ thieves myself, so robbing museums and jewlery and such, so, leaving Ash and his friends behind. (also love the typo of you calling Butch Bitch, because, well, he is one lmaooo).
I definitely see Jessie being agressively protective over Ash when he's injured/in trouble (or she thinks he is), but I think it would be hilarious if it came out randomly, and during the period of time where they're still getting used to each other.
My version of this perfect scenario would be Ash training some of his Pokémon, and everyone gets a bit too excited, and Ash ends up falling to the ground. Cue Jessie, who was keeping an eye on things, both because she knows Delia would want her to, and she's a Pokémon nerd herself, running in, guns and eyes blazing, flipping a grown ass Torterra on his back with her bare hands, yelling at it to not hurt her kid.
James and Meowth are stuck in place, because their brains can't decide between laughing, helping Torterra, thinking it's kinda cute, and teasing Jessie over her parental instincts. They're just there like
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Both Delia and Professor Oak are at work, and both sent James and Meowth respectively to keep an eye on Jessie keeping an eye on Ash. Both almost get heart attacks when they take too long to come back.
In the end, Jessie gets over James' and Meowth's teasing because Delia is even cuddlier than usual, and Ash starts wanting to train his Pokémon by making them fight Jessie. They don't like that idea and go on strike, with Meowth as their spokesmon.
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talaok · 5 months
Text
Movie night
Summary: Peter's coming over for your weekly movie night, and you’ve decided you wanna confess your feelings for him, but as it turns out, he has similar plans
Warnings: Smut| unprotected p in v sex, praising, soft!Dom Peter
a/n: thanks to this request I might go back into my Peter Parker era honestly. Also, @wtvbabes (this is not the person that made the request)
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It was time for the weekly movie night with Peter, 
You had been doing it for so long that you didn't even remember how or when it started, it was now simply a part of your routine.
Every Friday night, at 6 o'clock you went to whatever house was free, ordered pizza, and watched a movie each of you had chosen.
It was routine, so you shouldn't have been nervous... except that this time, this time wasn't gonna be like the other times, this time you had made a promise to yourself that you were finally gonna come clean, that you were finally gonna confess your feelings.
You had been keeping it a secret for way too long, and you were tired... god, were you tired, it was exhausting pretending like you didn't want more, like you didn't wanna kiss him and hold his hand every time you were together, and perhaps it was the holiday spirit surrounding you, or perhaps it was the fact that Gemma, your other best friend, had given you a 30-minute talk about how you should just "stop being a little bitch and tell him already" after you had started your usual ramble about how perfect and great Peter was,
But you had made peace with yourself, if this was gonna ruin your entire friendship, if you were gonna lose him forever, then so be it, because at the end of the day, if you couldn't have him like you really wanted to, then there was no point in having him at all.
And just then, when you were repeating your script to the mirror for the thousandth time, the words coming out of your mouth not even making sense anymore, he knocked at the door.
For some reason, a gasp fled your throat, but after the familiar "hey, it's me" from the other side of the door all you could do was take a deep breath and fix your dress.
It's all gonna be ok, it's all gonna be ok
"hi" you smiled, opening the door
Your anxiety must have been all over your face because the way he frowned at you told you everything you needed to know.
"hi" he said, coming into the house as he inspected your face "is something wrong?" he asked "Please don't tell me your sister changed the password to her Netflix again"
You forced a smile to your lips "no, no everything is fine- let's just... sit down"
"ok..." he frowned, following you as you sat on the couch "did something happen, or-"
"no" you shut him down "I-I just wanted" You shook your head as you regretted your choice of words "no actually, I need to- uhm- to tell you something"
You watched his eyes widen slightly, but out of all the things he could have said, he chose the only one that made you even fucking more anxious.
"Really?" he smiled "That's funny 'cause I do too"
You swore you felt your heart stop beating.
What could he ever need to tell you?
"w-what?" 
Your voice didn't even sound like your own, it was just fear and stress finding a way to come out of your body.
"yeah" he nodded, watching you closely "so... you wanna go first or..."
"no, no, you go first" you spit out, making him chuckle
He still didn't get why you were acting so weird, but to be perfectly transparent, he was kind of freaking out internally himself, so he didn't really have the brain capacity to investigate further.
"Alright" he laughed "I'll go first"
His eyes focused behind you for a moment as he prepared for whatever was coming, and just then, did you notice that perhaps you weren't the only nervous one.
What is it?
Did something happen
Oh god, did he find a girlfriend?
Your heart was beating out of your chest and then just like that, he came out and said: "Y/n I like you" with a hopeful smile on his face, while yours completely stilled.
Actually not just your face, you as a whole went completely still, frozen at the words that had just come out of his mouth
Did I just imagine that?
Am I dreaming or something?
What the actual fuck is going on?
That was supposed to be my lin-
"y/n are you there?"
He was talking to you, you realized.
"w-w-what?" your eyes were wide open in shock 
"I know" he smiled, scratching the back of his neck, "I know it's out of the blue, and I really really hope this won't ruin anything, but... I've been feeling like this for a long time about you, and I just- I needed to tell you"
And then you could do nothing, absolutely nothing but throw your arms around him, hugging him so tight he probably couldn't breathe.
"y/n?" he murmured, hugging you back, but before he could say anything else you leaned away, still holding onto him as if he were a life jacket, and smiled like an idiot.
"I like you too Peter-" you grinned "I really really like you"
The smile on his face now matched yours, as his eyes sparked with joy
"you do?"
"of course I do!" you almost yelled from the excitement "that's-that's what I wanted to tell you! I can't believe this"
You looked into each other's eyes, both incredulous and unbelievably happy altogether, 
you were so close, but an inch between your faces, that what happened next was inevitable.
His lips were on yours, 
his lips were on yours and they felt every bit as good as you had spent hours and hours imagining.
And then for a moment, you both leaned away, looking at each other as soft silly laughs fled your throats.
"i can't believe this is real" he breathed, melting your heart right into a puddle
"I can't either"
And then his lips were back on yours, but this time... this time he was hungrier.
His tongue was exploring your mouth, and his hands were one holding your face, while the other started roaming your body, pulling soft whimpers from you as your arms remained locked behind his neck, your left hand gently playing with his hair,
And then in no time, without a clue of how or when, you were lying on the couch, and he was on top of you, his legs parting your thighs.
And you didn't need to know when it had happened, because all you knew was that you liked it, god you really fucking liked it.
His whole broad and strong body was engulfing yours, his scent was all around you, his hands were everywhere, and his mouth... his mouth was simply heavenly.
As embarrassing as it was, you couldn't control your body as you started grinding down onto his leg to try and relieve some of the need pooling between your legs.
"please" you pleaded, whimpering softly into the kiss.
"I like it when you beg, sweetheart"
And if you wanted him before, you now needed him
His lips moved to your neck, starting a slow trail from just below your ear, down until he found your shirt as an obstacle.
You didn't need to be told twice and helped him take it off of you in a second.
Your bra wasn't far behind.
"god, you're so beautiful" he praised, making you blush 
he bent down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it while his other hand played with the other one, making you lose your goddamn mind as you shut your eyes in ecstasy.
"oh my god" you moaned, one of your hands going to his hair as he switched up the breast he was taking care of.
Your panties were completely drenched
He continued his work as his hands traveled underneath your skirt, caressing your thighs in a way that was turning you into a putty mess in his hands.
His fingers gripped the edge of the fabric, and with the help of you raising your hips, only the sheer fabric of your panties divided him from where you begged for his attention
"Peter" you called, stopping him as he had seated himself in between your legs
"yes, sweetheart?"
"I-I've only ever done this once"
His features softened and one of his hands traveled to your face to cup your cheek as he left a soft kiss on your lips
"don't worry, I'll go slow," he promised "I'll take care of everything, you just relax, ok?"
"ok" You nodded softly "I trust you"
He smiled at that, kissing you again "Thank you"
And no more than a few seconds after that, you were completely bare before him.
"you're perfect sweetheart" he murmured "fucking perfect"
He left a kiss on your pussy, making you moan, before his lips were on you again, and you were more desperate than you had ever been.
Your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, frantically trying to get it off of him.
"Peter please take this off"
He didn't need to be told twice.
His shirt was on the floor with the rest of your clothes in no time, and then came his pants.
He went back to kissing you, the kiss now a heated mess between your moans and his hunger.
"baby please" you whined, your hand going to his boxers 
"what do you want sweetheart?"
"you, please, all of you"
Your voice was so thin and so breathy it was almost incomprehensible
"what about me?" he asked, his mouth next to your ear "You want my cock sweetheart, is that what you want?"
"yes" you moaned, as his hand played with your clit "I'm begging you, please, I need you inside of me"
He freed his cock from the confines of his briefs, as he kept kissing your neck
"you're gonna be good?" he asked, his tip now collecting all your juices and making you squirm uncontrollably "you're gonna be good and take all of it?"
"yes" you breathed "yesplease, yes-"
And without so much as a warning, he had started to push into you
"told you I like hearing you beg"
You moaned so loud you surprised even yourself, and then he retracted his hips and pushed another inch of himself in you, and you were just about ready to die.
"O-oh my god, P-peter" you moaned
He made the same motion again, and you couldn't help but look down at where your bodies were meeting, and that's when you noticed,
"fuck you're so big" you breathed, watching as he thrust only half of his dick inside of you
"it's ok" he purred, kissing your neck sloppily "Just be a good girl and take it" he ordered, pushing in again "Take it all inside this tight little pussy"
A high-peached moan fled your mouth again, as your pussy stretched around him,
"just like that," he said, his hot breath fanning over your skin "That's a good girl"
He was now fully inside you, by some miracle, he had made himself fit, and he felt absolutely perfect.
"fuck you feel so good" he groaned, picking up his pace "so tight" he grunted, feeling your walls squeeze him better than anything ever before "like you were made for me" his thrusts somehow felt deeper now, resulting in even more moans and cries coming out of your mouth
"O-oh god" you whimpered, feeling him hit and hit and hit again that perfect spot inside of you.
"You're taking me so well sweetheart"
The couch was now shaking with each of his movements, while your brain had stopped working and all you could do was cry out as he brought heaven to you.
"look at you" he murmured, kissing your mouth "So beautiful" he praised "so fucking pretty" he groaned, as your walls tightened around him "squeezing me so good" 
His thrusts were so fucking deep you could feel them in your belly, and your orgasm was inevitably approaching
"such a good girl"
A louder moan left your throat at that, and he definitely noticed
"you like it when I call you that?" he asked, smirking devilishly "You like hearing that you're my good girl?"
Again, another cry, followed by a frantic nod now.
Your ability to talk had been lost a while ago.
"It's just what you are" he purred in your ear now "You're my good girl y/n, only mine"
And that, that sent you definitively over the edge.
A series of cries and moans resembling his name came out of your mouth as the best orgasm of your life took over your body completely.
He waited for you to come down from your high before he pulled out of you, spilling his seed all over your belly not a second later.
"fuck" he muttered, his head falling to the crook of your neck
You stayed there for a moment, waiting for your heartbeats and breathing to calm down,
And only then, only after you spent five minutes in the most comfortable silence, did he lean away to look at you.
"I love you, Peter"
You couldn't stop yourself from saying it, it was just the truth
And not a beat had passed, that he had already answered
"I love you, y/n"
1K notes · View notes
hp-hcs · 6 months
Text
mattheo riddle if you beat the shit out of him in a fistfight <3 — mattheo riddle x gn! reader
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Requests open
implied Slytherin (non-pureblood reader)
tws: violence… duh
OOC. LIKE AS OOC AS IS POSSIBLE. i am so sorry for whatever this is 💀 i’m like, borderline delirious kind of sick, so that’s my excuse ig 😌
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
homeboy is not doing fine
his bruised ego 😔
he’d been teasing you for years with his group of lackeys, and you just snapped
he made a comment that went too far about your blood status, talking shit about your family
you just dropped your shit, spun around, and decked that mf
obviously he wasn’t fuckin expecting that, so he just kinda froze like 👊💥😳🧍‍♂️
he has no idea what to do
((he’s also just a little bit turned on bc manwhore duh))
everybody in the hallway freezes too like,
“you dumb bitch the fuck are you doing??”
his friends are jeering, and he just kind of shakes his head like a goddamn etch-a-sketch and like, gently shoves you back by your shoulders (cause you cute bae 🩷 he don’t wanna ruin that pretty face of urs <3)
you, on the other hand, are just ready to FUCK someone UP
and if that someone turns out to be the dark lord’s son, c’est la vie
he makes one more lame attempt at a scathing comment and you just fucking TACKLE him
you’re on top of him (not like that you silly little sluts get your mind outta the gutter) in the middle of the hallway just beating the s h i t out of him
homeboy has no idea what to do lmfao
lowkey he’s falling in love just from your knuckles smashing his face in (masochist manwhore)
he def thinks it’s hot as fuck
one of the professors comes to separate yinz, (probably hooch, cause there ain’t no way she puts up with any shit) and has to fucking DRAG YOU OFF of him
he's got like, a broken nose, a busted lip, a probably-going-to-become-a-black eye, and yk, decimated ego
but he’s just looking at you with those fuckin PUPPY DOG eyes
🥺
congrats, he’s obsessed
he won’t shut up about you for the rest of the day, to his friends, his enemies, madam pomfrey when he’s in the hospital wing…
they're all like “ah. i see the mommy and daddy issues are making an appearance”
when you get out of detention and go back to the common room, he LEAPS off of the couch and over to you
you’re standing there with still-bloody knuckles and a try me, i dare you face
he apologizes profusely, like, to a kind of pathetic extent
you’re like “dude, you’re not pureblood either, dipshit”
he got called out 😔
you apologize for OvErReAcTiNg (you had to apologize as part of your detention & punishment lmfao) and getting ‘unnecessarily violent’
and cause manwhore he’s just like “oh no it’s fine that was hot”
y/n: 😶🤨🫠
he’s got a lil giggle ✨
literal heart eyes for you
so ur like “yeah i gotta mess with this guy even more”
you kiss his cheek and make his brain stop working
baby is bluescreening rn
he then ends up shadowing you for the rest of the week, following a half-step behind you wherever you go like a lil puppy
(i’m of the opinion that he’s just a slightly more violent golden retriever white boy)
((i’m not saying himbo but himbo))
walk him like a dog, sis
alexa, play lovefool by the cardigans
he’s ur bitch now, enjoy <3
736 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 3 months
Note
I love your stories it feels like I'm actually in it, I mostly like Mafia Miguel x shy reader.... But anyway if you seen Jennifer's body i can see Miguel being Jennifer and the reader being his friend. If you're taking requests may I have Jennifer's body au with Miguel O'Hara x reader? Thank you. 🥰😍 The ending ended up being together can add smut as well to it?
I actually never seen that movie because I am a wimp when it comes to anything horror, except animal horror. Place Jaws in front of me anyway and I'm down. But, I read a quick summary of the movie and I will make some small changes, you know, to sastify our needs haha.
Also, so sorry this was late. I'm still catching up to last month's requests!!
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, murder, blood, possession, shower sex, oral (f recieving)
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You knew something was wrong.
You knew that something had changed.
But, what were you supposed to do? Miguel was your best friend and he meant everything. He was your world. The two of you had been together since you were young, to leave him as he was now, would be the worst thing ever.
Rewind a few weeks ago. You and Miguel were just chilling after work at a local bar. Your cheeks were flushed as Miguel kept buying the two of you drinks. It was frustrating how much you loved your best friend. He was just so perfect, both at work and outside.
Hearing a local band start to play, you leaned against Miguel, complaining to him about work. The night was pretty vague after that, but you did recall a fire and Miguel bringing you home. After that he disappeared for the night.
When you awoke the next day, you found Miguel passed out on the couch with what looked like blood on his clothes. You thought nothing of it since Miguel would never do something drastic or crazy like murdering someone. So, you assumed it was ketchup and proceeded to help Miguel out of his clothes.
"What would I do without you?" Miguel mumbled under his breathe as you took his shirt off.
"I don't know, stay in gross clothes?" You said with a chuckle and fixed his hair, "Go wash up. The girls at work will go crazy over this bed hair of yours."
Miguel grunted and playfully used you to stand. You laughed and whined towards him, finishing up for work. The two of you shared a place only to help you with you rent. Miguel was perfectly fine with his own place, he was just helping you.
You first noticed something was off when you arrived at work that same day. Miguel was normal with you, but he had started to get flirty with some of your female coworkers. Miguel never payed any mind to any of them, so it kind of hurt to watch.
As the days went by, you couldn't help but notice some of your coworkers going missing. You tried to ask Miguel about it, but he just shrugged and reassured you that it was probably nothing. Of course, you wanted to believe him...but each of those girls who went missing were ones that Miguel flirted with.
"Miguel?" You called out, entering his lab. Miguel glanced towards you, his smile widening,
"(Y/N), climbed out of the library to see me?" He teased. You plopped yourself over Miguel, sighing heavily,
"Lemme vent for two minutes!" You whined, throwing your arms over his shoulders, "That jerk over in IT had the gal to ask me out on a date, Miggy! After he insulted my 'tiny' brain last week!" You huffed. Miguel felt his eye twitch as he pulled you onto his lap,
"Did you tell him no?" He asked, his tone getting a little harsher. You leaned against Miguel, pouting,
"Of course I said no..." You whimpered and crossed your arms, "He called me a dumb bitch after that...That all I do is..."
"Is what?" Miguel fixed you on his lap, wanting to hear the rest.
"Is...be your fuck toy..." You mumbled lowly.
Miguel felt his lips twitch into a smirk before pulling you into a hug. His warm embrace relaxing you while his mind started to race. Tonight was going to have a bitter taste compared to the rest. Once you were calmed down, Miguel stroked your cheeks,
"Don't pay any mind to him. Go home and order whatever you want with my card. I'll be there late."
"Miggy, you don't-"
"I want too," Miguel rested his forehead against yours, "We're best friends. Let me take care of you," He whispered.
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You should have known something was wrong. Miguel always had his barriers and lines, but he was willingly crossing all of them. It felt like you were getting closer to Miguel in a different light, and you weren't sure how to feel about it.
Waiting for Miguel to return home, you started to put away some of the food and clean. He did say that he was going to be late, but it was reaching midnight. It was nerve racking having to wait for him to return home.
"Ugh,"
You gasped upon hearing the door. Rushing over, you saw Miguel leaning over the counter, coughing into the sink. Grabbing a bottle of water, you hurried to Miguel's side and gasped at the sight. He was covered in blood and throwing up something black and icky.
"Miguel?! Are you alright?! Did you get hurt?!" You panicked, fixing his hair and checking his body. Miguel wavered in place and wrapped his arms around you,
"I'm fine...(Y/N)...Don't worry about me," He mumbled into your neck. You frowned, leading him to the bathroom,
"I have to worry about you, who else will?" You told him, setting the water, "What happened?"
"Nothing,"
"Please, Miguel. Let me be here for you," You nearly cried, using a soft wet rag to clean the blood around his face, "Please," You sobbed.
Miguel sighed heavily as he brought you against his chest. His breathing was staggered and heavy against your ear, using you as a sort of comfort. His grip tighten ever so slightly around your waist.
"I fucked up, (Y/N). I fucked up so bad," He whispered. You frowned and fixed his hair, "That night of the fire...I went after the assholes since you almost got hurt. I followed them into this alley and I don't know what the hell they were trying to do but...I ended up getting possessed by...something."
"Possessed?" You questioned. Miguel closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck,
"I guess I was supposed to be a sacrifice or something? But, I didn't met the criteria and this demon took over. I'm always hungry, (Y/N), always." You felt a sudden chill run down your spine as Miguel's hands crawled up your back, "I can't stop...but when I'm with you, I can feel it relax."
"The demon?" You questioned. Miguel leaned back, fangs poking out of his teeth,
"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). I'll always protect you."
"Same, Miggy, but if you're in trouble...Please let me help you," You begged him once more.
Miguel inhaled deeply as you stroked his face once more. He lazily glanced towards you, leaning forward to kiss your lips. You made a small squeak as his hands kept you in place. Miguel grunted as he forced his tongue into your mouth, hungrily.
But not for flesh.
Lifting you up with ease, Miguel pressed you back against the shower wall, ignoring the running water. His groan rumbled against his throat as he started to feel your body lean into his. Miguel was hungry for you. You tasted so sweet against him.
"Miguel," You whispered, breaking the kiss. Miguel rested his forehead against yours, letting the water run down your soaked clothes,
"When I'm with you, I don't hunger for flesh," He whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist, "I want you...maybe...Just maybe, I won't have to suffer like this...if you let me have you."
You furrowed your brows with concern as Miguel spoke. Flesh? Right when you were going to ask him, Miguel captured your lips into another, rougher kiss. His hands pulling your shirt up, exposing your breasts underneath.
"Let me have you, (Y/N)," Miguel begged, kissing and sucking against your neck.
You felt your mind grow hazy as Miguel kept his antics. This was something you had always dreamed of. You tried to reply to Miguel, but moaned instead as he started to nipple and play with your breasts. You needed to ask him more about his demon.
"Mig-" You shivered as he started to rut into you, grunting and moaning with each grind.
"(Y/N), you're mine. Mine, only. I'll eat anyone who dares try to take you away from me," Miguel hissed, taking off your pajama pants.
"Miguel, w-what do you mean b-by eat?" You finally asked. Miguel glanced towards you once more, lifting your hips to his face, "W-Wait-"
You gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's tongue started to swirl around your clit and pussy. Your hands gripped his hair as you arched your back, crying out in pleasure. Miguel's tongue was lapping up your juices hungrily, holding your hips in place.
You felt your core burn as you slowly moved your hips to Miguel's movements. Trembling as you felt his tongue enter your cunt, you cried out as you felt your orgasm approaching fast. Miguel hummed in response, slowly pulling away from your dripping pussy,
"This taste much better," He said with a groan before going back to suck on your clit.
"Ah~ Miguel~!" You cried out. Miguel watched you contort your face in pleasure, crying out his name,
"(Y/N), if I eat you like this everyday..." Miguel groaned as he lowered you, pressing your face against the shower wall, "Then I won't have to feast on others. I can feel it...the demon enjoying this too."
"M-Miggy," You whimpered softly.
"Let me devour you,"
You gasped and moaned as you felt Miguel shove his cock into you deeply. Tears began to roll down your cheeks from the sudden intrusion as he filled you to the brim. Your pussy convulsed around his dick, sucking him in as you cam heavily.
You tried to grip onto the shower wall, but it was no use. Miguel held your hips, pounding into your poor fleshy cunt. Your moans grew louder with each slap of his hips, feeling pure pleasure. The size of his dick was stretching you out, kissing every part of your pussy.
"(Y/N), you feel so good," Miguel grunted, slapping his balls against your clit with each thrust, "Thank you for this meal, I'll make sure to fill you up too," He said with a grunt.
You cried and moan as you cam against Miguel's dick. Your vision blurring as the shower water poured against your skin. Miguel's grunts and moans turning you on even more. You gasped as Miguel lifted you up, inserting himself again as he kissed you.
"Mhm~ Miguel~!" You cried, wrapping your arms around his neck. Miguel held you close, inhaling your scent as he fucked you stupid,
"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). Never," He repeated, watching you cream against his cock once more, "We're best friends, forever, right?"
"Yes! Yes!" You cried, trembling as you felt Miguel fill you with his cum, "Ah~ I-I help...c-control this..."
"Thank you, (Y/N)." Miguel hummed, kissing you in response.
By the time you recovered from the rapid sex session, Miguel went into more detail about what happened with him. You were terrified at first since now you knew that it was Miguel who killed your coworkers, but you also understood.
There was no curing Miguel. At least the two of you found out how to control the demon possessing him. Miguel didn't need to eat flesh anymore, all he needed was you.
"Fuck, more (Y/N), just once more." Miguel grunted as he fucked your pussy from behind, "I can't stand seeing another man get near you."
"Miguel~ Miguel~" You cried into the pillow, gripping the bedsheets under your. Miguel hissed lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pounding your pussy a bit more harshly,
"Mine! Mine! Mine! If I can't fuck some sense into you, then I'll eat them," He hissed lowly. You cried out, cumming against his dick once more, milking him dry for his cum,
"I understand, Miggy~ Hah~ Hah~ O-Only I can ease your hunger," You whimpered lowly. Miguel kissed your back, giving you soft, gentle thrusts,
"I know, (Y/N). I know, don't mind me," He whispered, apologizing for his tone, "Thank you for the meal...now and forever."
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Like I said, never watched Jennifer's Body, but hopefully this was okay and somewhat...what the movie wanted? Idk man, maybe one day I'll grow a pair and watch some horror movies.
Hope you enjoyed!!
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whiskersz · 2 months
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Hey so I just saw you had request opened for Adam so could you please do headcannons with Adam x reader where the reader is like very nervous at first and is quiet but after a bit when they open up is supper out going and talks a lot? Have an amazing day/night!
Hello there! Happy to write some Adam headcanons for you, dear reader! Hope you like these and have a wonderful day/night yourself :3 I assumed these were meant to be romantic but they can be read either way.
Adam x Quiet -> Outgoing! Reader HCs
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Adam isn’t really sure what to think of you at first.
He never knows what to make of quiet people; is there a storm brewing in their little brain, or are they uninteresting and as such undeserving of his attention? Lute is the first for example, and he quite likes her, so he decides to give you a chance.
What really amuses him is your nervousness around him at first; he’ll tease you by asking things such as “What, cat got your tongue?” and make fun of you when you stumble on your own words, his booming laugh catching the attention on anyone nearby.
Lord knows why you stick around, but you do, and day after day you two somehow grow closer; you get used to his tacky jokes about your personality and little by little you learn to either ignore him and move on or retort with the first thing that comes to mind, shushing him. He’ll either blow you a very immature raspberry or flip the bird at you whenever this happens.
Once you open up a bit and become way more talkative though, unfortunately for you, he finds a whole new reason to be rude to you;
“Got your tongue back I see. Great, now I’ve got a pest by my side.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re going to give me a headache!”
“Do you ever shut up?”
As you can probably tell having any kind of relationship with Adam is not the easiest thing in the world – or well, in Heaven, in this case.
It’s not rare for you to get a bit offended by what he says, but you’ve figured out a way to worm your way into his heart and get him to listen to you: acts of service.
Adam is a bit lazy when it comes to doing things that aren’t fun for him, so the best way to get him to calm down a bit is to take the weight off his shoulders and do whatever needs to be done in his stead.
Of course, we’re talking about everyday acts, such as doing the groceries or cleaning. He’s going to be overjoyed if you get him something he likes while you’re out too; every time you come back home from grocery shopping with ribs to cook, he’s oh-so going to listen to your rants about how long the line at the cash register was or whatever you have to talk about this time.
He’s also a big napper, and it’s surprising even to him how much it helps him fall asleep when you talk about literally anything as he’s trying to take a nap. These are the times where he’ll actually reply to what you’re saying too!
“...and that’s when my friend left. I couldn’t believe it, like... if she really cared she would’ve stayed, right?”
“What...is she a fucking bitch? Of course she would’ve stayed if she gave a damn.”
He answers with his eyes closed each time, but his eyebrows are still furrowed in frustration whenever you tell him about someone or something that pissed you off.
Lute probably questions you guys’ relationship, not going to lie. She can deal with Adam, but you? She has absolutely no idea how you put up with him, but as long as she gets some free time for herself she’s not going to complain.
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