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#linked universe x modern! reader
weepingflowerbonkcop · 4 months
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First Post and I'm stuck on the idea of being isekaid into LU with your best friend. Here's of my thoughts about the shenanigans. -
Legend: Why are we bringing them along? *pointing towards the two humans fighting each other*
Friend: WHY WON'T YOU LET ME KISS YOU?! IM YOUR BEST FRIEND I HAVE PRIVILEGES?!
Y/N: I'D RATHER DRINK AN ENTIRE BOTTLE OF HAND SANITISER BEFORE YOU LAY YOUR LIPS ON ME!
Time: ...
Y/N: *pointing at Legend* He looks like he bites.
Twilight: He probably does.
Hyrule: He does.
Warriors: I was bit.
Sky: I witnessed it.
Legend: What is wrong with her?
Sky: What do you mean?
Legend: I told her a story about fighting a boboklin and she replied by saying, "dead-ass." What does that even mean?
Hyrule: I got a hug from her after healing her.
Twilight: I got kisses from her as Wolfie.
Warriors: I got praised by her for my strength.
Wind: I get all her attention!
Legend: I got asked why my hair is pink.
Legend: You're so useless! You can't fight! Can't heal! God, why are you so useless to the group?
Y/N: First of all, I won't be sassed by man wearing a skirt. Go frolic in a field of daisies if you're so upset.
Four: I can't believe that the Minnish numbers are dwindling in the future! Just look at them! *holds up hands cupped*
Y/N: *not seeing anything in his hands* Okay sweetie, I think that's enough for today. Let's go take a nap, okay? *concerned*
Twilight: On the ranch I had to wrestle some Ordon Goats whenever they go on rampages.
Y/N: I believe that, you're built like a shit brick house. You don't just get that figure by sitting and doing nothing.
Y/N: You ever wonder if the wind is trying to tell us something, but we just forgot how to listen to it?
Time: I just want you to stop saying weird shit.
Wind: *slightly panicked at the thought*
Four: How do you keep on doing this?!
Wild: *broke another sword* I don't know what happened to it...
Y/N: ....
*Flashback*
Y/N: You think that you could cut a bolder in half by trying some breathing technique?
Wild: I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm invested.
Y/N: Oh yeah. I have like Iron deficiency and so sometimes when I stand up to fast I get flashbanged. I'm also prone to blackouts as well.
Hyrule: *concerned noises*
Four: Remind me to keep an eye on you.
Friend: I wonder how humans taste like?
Y/N: Research has shown that most of the food that we eat contain human DNA. So just think about how chicken burgers tastes like from McDonalds.
Friend: So like chicken then?
Y/N: Pretty much.
Twilight: *overheard their conversation* WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
*Four and Time looking at Y/N and Friend*
Four: Have you ever noticed how they don't talk to each other. They just pull faces and make noises.
Time: Maybe it's a human thing?
Friend: *pulling a 'did-you-hear-that-shit' face*
Y/N: *pulling a 'giiirl-I-know-he-didn't' face*
Legend: *secretly understanding and nodding along*
Time: We are the Hero's of Hyrule! We don't show vulnerability.
Y/N: You know what that sounds like - toxic masculinity.
- That's all for now. Let me know your thoughts! All rights to the creator jojo!
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luimagines · 5 months
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I dare you to do one with your favorite trope to write (unless you've already done it)
Oh my goodness, this might be longer that usual. XD
And I really had to think about what I wanted to write. I think I'll make this a one-shot. (unless you guys want more anyway) Prepare for this to be as self indulgent as hell. :D
And I'll make it Time while I'm at it.
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
This was the third time this week that you found something like this. You didn't know who was doing this.
A basket, filled to the brim with goodies and trinkets alike, sat properly outside of your window sill. It would be charming if you weren't on the third floor. Someone was climbing up to your balcony and leaving the baskets for you to find.
It was creepy- to a degree. There was never anything malicious about it though. The baskets typically held a flower, a warm meal (or groceries) and some little thing for you to put around your apartment.
You see, you moved to the Kingdom of Kokiri with nothing but a backpack and small child's wagon. Your apartment wasn't even on a nicer side of town. But it hard to be worried about robbers when you're home is bare and empty.
Slowly, that's been changing though. The baskets always had a poem attached, but no name. You secret admirer would give little things from time to time. The baskets are getting more frequent too.
What used to be a small monthly thing, turned weekly then bi weekly- and you're beginning to suspect that they're turning into a daily thing.
Part of you worries that whoever this is, is spending too much on you.
But seeing that the last basket had a new set of dining wear with plates and cups and a some nice utensils to match- you're not inclined to have them stop anytime soon when they're improve your very living conditions as it is. Even if you feel a little guilty.
That being said, this basket had a warm meal already prepared, still steaming in the glass tupperware. There was a small bouquet of roses near the top and a small little box that you opened to see a single slice of chocolate cake.
The card was attached on the inside but it lacked the typical poem. It simple read: "Rest well, Love. You've worked hard today. Dinner's on me. I just want to see you smile in the morning."
You smiles and tucked the card back into its place, bringing the basket back into your apartment.
You have to figure out who this secret admirer of yours is. It has to be someone with access to your floor but it can't be a neighbor. Right? You're on the corner so it can't be anyone to your left. But maybe your neighbor to the right? That's a creepy thought. You hardy ever see him and you don't think he showers throughout the week.
It can't be him. Or at least you're going to deny it.
Maybe it's someone from above? That's more likely. There is this cute guy that you know lives on the floor above you, but you don't know which apartment. It wouldn't be hard to drop the basket secretively onto your balcony from above if that was the case.
The thought rotates in your head as you eat the food. It's delicious. Decadent, even.
Gratitude fills your heart and soul. you have to return the favor somehow after everything this person has provided for you. But how?
You head to bed with a smile on your face and a full stomach. You'll have to start small but you can think of something.
The next morning you head to the castle and walk straight to the throne room.
It was a deal that the king had proposed personally to you. You get to work concern free in his kingdom but you have to report to him every other Tuesday. Seeing as you had nowhere else to go, you didn't think it wise to refuse.
You've grown somewhat close, but with his power and status by his side, you couldn't help but slightly intimidated by him even now.
The king- like most Royals of Kingdoms of Hyrule- was a dragon. Sure, he could take the form of a typical man, but he stayed in his half form more often than not. His age and strength add to his credentials. As the current senior amongst dragons, all you've gathered is that he's lived longer than he appears. The older the dragon, the stronger they are.
King Link is a force to be reckoned with.
However, he's kind and patient with you. He's not all that bad.
You nod and grin at the Captain, who's affectionately called Warrior. Another dragon hidden among the people. You don't know his story, but he's a hard working fellow. He also came to the king in a time of need, looking for asylum and has been working under his employ ever since. He is the king's right hand man.
Warrior smiles back and salutes you softly as you enter. You'll never understand why you've more or less been given free reign of the castle, but with his approval, you feel better to head on in.
You meet the king and curtsy clumsily, still feeling rushed. He's asked you call him Time and he stands from the throne. His face is kind, amused even. A chuckle tumbles out of him as he walks toward you, his marble like tail swinging behind him. "I thought we were passed the formalities, my dear."
You clear your throat. "Were we? I don't recall."
He laughs again. "Come. We have much to discuss."
You nod and follow. He leads you to the back room with a gentle touch the small of your back. It's a familiar routine that you've grown comfortable with.
There's a small rounded table with a pale blue laced table cloth. There's a delicate tea set and it's covered to the brim with snacks and treats alike. You think you see a few of your favorites and your eyes light up at the sight.
King Time notices and he smiles, pleased. "Sit."
You nod and take your usual spot. Time sits across from you and serves you the pieces that you eyes earlier. You almost feel bad. You're still full from the night before.
Time notices. "Something wrong, dear?"
"No." You shake your head, afraid of insulting him. "Someone gave me dinner last night and I'm still a bit full from it."
Time seemed to be shocked by the tidbit. "Really?... Was it good?"
"It was delicious!" You can't help but gush. "I would normally cook for myself but they send food from time to time and it was still warm so I couldn't resist."
His smile turns a little tight. "Is that so? I'm glad that you were fed adequately then.... May I ask who?"
You falter, the smile on your face turning more soft and shy. "Um... I think it was my neighbor..."
"...You don't know who it is?"
You blush and look down onto the table, playing with the treats on your plate. "I know that I should be more cautious. But they've only ever left it on my balcony... It's a secret admirer so to speak. They've given me trinkets and flowers and food. It seems as if they've slowly been furnishing my house for me. I don't know... I've been trying to think about who it may be, but I'm coming up short. Regardless, enough about my lack of love life-"
Time abruptly puts his hand under the table but you catch the reason why before he can hide it.
He's bent the fork in half with his hand, seemingly without realizing it. He smiles brightly, as if nothing happened and the thought gets put on the back burner for now. "Right... Well, you can always ask for my assistance, Darling."
You shake your head with a small smile. "Thank you, but I'm here to report my work. Let's get to business then."
Time clenches his jaw slightly but nods in agreement. "Right. I believe last time you mentioned that you were following a trail of some suspicious individuals on the property of the farm lands for relief efforts. Did that bloom into anything substantial?"
You pull out a manila folder with a smirk and hand it to the king. "Did it ever."
The time passes before you know it. Little by little, as you give your report, if drifts away and you're talking about your lives as much as you can before you leave.
Warrior comes in, informing Time of another meeting has to attend. He looks apologetic.
The king winces but you're quick to stand up, mid panic. "I'm sorry. I've overstayed my welcome."
"Impossible." Time blurts, standing abruptly as well. He reach out as if to stop you and moves around the table as if to block your path. His tail curls around your ankle, stopping your in your tracks. It's gentle but firm. Even if his grip is painless, you can already tell that you wouldn't be able to escape on your own.
You freeze and after a beat he lets you go. Time gulps and stands, seemingly more aware of what he was doing. His grip falls away and he takes a step back. "R-right... I won't keep you from your work much longer then."
You can't help but blush. He's always been fine with putting a hand on your shoulder or your back... but the tail is one of the most sensitive parts of a dragon. And he just grabbed you with it. For some reason, you find yourself blushing.
You nod dumbly, as if your schedule is jammed packed like his. Your heart is pounding. You follow Warrior out of the room as he leads you back to the main gate of the castle.
"Sorry." Warrior says quietly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Nonono-" You're still shaken by the phantom feelings of the scales around you. Even if it was just a brush, there was a power there. You don't know why you're so out of whack suddenly. The act was more intimate than you were able to admit. "If you didn't say anything, I would have kept going. Honestly, I swear he's just humoring most of the time."
"This is the only time we get him to actually take a break." Warrior tells you. "He'd work himself t the bone if it weren't for you. It's not like he can't afford it. He's two years ahead of his work. By all means, keep him there longer."
You flush and look away, walking out of the gate. "Oh please, he'll get sick of me before we'd know it."
Warrior is quick to bite his tongue, biting back the instant retort that no doubt sat on his tongue. He takes a breath and shakes his head.
"...He likes you." Warrior looks pained. Like there's something there that he wants to say but can't. You don't see it. "Would you like me to walk you home? If I recall you live far enough away-"
"Not enough to cause concern, Captain." You smile and pat his shoulder. "But thank you."
"His Majesty wouldn't like it if anything happened to you." Warrior tries to push it a little bit.
You shake you head. "And take more of your time away? You work just as hard, if not harder, than the entirety of the castle staff. I think only the King works harder than you."
He presses his lips into a thin line. His own scales poke from under his skin. Something is riling him up but you don't know what. You've never seen his dragon form or even his half. He seems to hide it more often than not. You would never know he was a dragon if the King hadn't said anything earlier.
Warrior sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Very well... Just... be safe, yeah? I don't think the goddesses themselves would be able to calm the king should things go wrong."
"Like what?" You snort. "I end up in the hospital? I'll be fine. No worries."
You wink for good measure and head home, happy, fulfilled and ready to take on the rest of the week.
You miss the next three visits.
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trippygalaxy · 9 months
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Hello there,
I'm not sure if you do emergency requests but I'm in the need for some fluff/crack atm. (I just got my wisdom teeth pulled 😑)
How about Wolfie chasing one of those laser pointers around camp and generally just being a goofball. Like modern!reader just pulls one outta their bag and he goes full dog mode.
~ 🖤
🖤ANON!! ITS BEEN A WHILE :DD I do absolutely do emergency requests and I want to think you the best of rest days!! ALSO THIS IS THE CUTEST/FUNNIEST IDEA EVER!! I hope i can do it justice!
Edit: SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK!! I HOPE YOU'RE DOINF BETTER!!
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Twilight
The Chain had set up camp in a small, flowery clearing, allowing the group to relax in the comforting atmosphere. Everyone was scattered across the grassy field, some already sleeping while other kept themselves busy.
Idly digging around your tattered backpack, you found yourself utterly bored out of your bloody mind! Though the surrounding was a breath of fresh air considering the party's exasperating journey, the chaotic itch in your mind needed to be scratched.
Just as you're about to stop your fruitless search your fingers brush across a cold plastic cylinder. With furrowed eyebrows you pull the small object from your backpack.
The setting sun's rays glint against the metallic surface of a very familiar object. A breathless laugh pulls itself from your laughs as you look at the item.
--
You weren't sure why or how you managed to bring a laser pointer with you into this strange adventure of yours, but considering the pure amusement you were getting out of it, it was totally worth it.
What amusement could you be getting from such a simple toy, you might ask.
The amusing sight of the ranch hand -who was in his wolfish form- slowly tracking the red dot with his beady eyes. He did not raise from his resting spot in the lush grass, either too lazy or too uninterested to inspect any farer. But the mere sight of his tiny eyes darting back and forth as he struggled to keep his focus on the dot had you quietly giggling.
And yet that chaotic itch had yet to be satisficed. Hunkering down, pressing yourself farer into your bedroll you steadied yourself as you dared to inch the shaky dot closer to the wolf's form.
Twilight-- Or Wolfie now-- Squinted at the approaching speck, letting a huff of air bellow past his jowls as a tried warning. A quiet 'boof' comes from the wolf, as if daring the light to come closer, making your shoulders shake in quiet mirth as you suddenly darted the dot closer. Startled, the wolf jumped from his laying position and onto his crouched paws, his snout pull back in a slight snarl, his quiet 'boof' turning into a tamed bark. Now that, that caught the attention of those littered around the make shift camp. Heads turned and tasks halted as curious eyes found the large wolf staring down a...Little red dot? Wild, being the curious lad he is, goes to step forward to investigate but is halted but the firm hand of the Captain.
Before the champion can question the Captain's ever growing smirk, Wolfie lets out another startled bark. Quickly looking back Wild finds the wolf with his paws cupped together, firmly placed on the dirt infront of him.
Wolfie, proud of the swift catch, lifts his paws from the dirt to inspect this dot, only to be met with the forest floor. Another boof puffs past his jaw as he sniffs the grass, digging around for a minute before pulling back with a tilted head. The clear confusion almost had you rolling. The pup had no idea the pure fuckery he was about to experience.
--
Muffled chuckles filled the night air along side the loud, erratic barks from a very confused pup.
Bags and bedrolls have been throw astray from their original resting place, (much to the dismay of others) having been bulldozered by the rancher as nothing stopped the wolf's brash pace while he chased after the will- o- wisp of light.
The pup leaped and lunged after the ever infuriating light, tumbling over his own racing paws as he nipped at the air with growing frustration. Never have you seen the pup this focused on such a small goal, basically throwing himself around the clearing to catch this light!
Your itch was being scratched indeed. And yet, the fuckery was not yet up to your standards.
Barks of laughter caught your attention and from the corner of your eye you just catch the glimpse of a hunched over sailor. He stood allow in field, hands on his knees as he watched Wolfie with tears in his eyes. Bingo.
Suddenly the dot darted away from dancing around the spinning wolf, making it's slow but noticeable approach. As head strong as before, the wolf continues his quick chase after the spark with a bark.
Wind, poor poor Wind, didn't notice the giant wolf that barreled towards him. Still far too focused on trying to catch his breath, the young sailor doesn't catch the glimpse of a shiny red dot finding itself to his chest. Not even the worried call of the Captain can save him from his fate.
The wind is knocked from the sailor's chest as the rocketing Wolfie TACKLES the poor kid to the ground. His legs kicking up into the air as the sudden weight of Wolfie lands on his small chest.
The camp falls silent for a moment before the wild and incoherent curses fall from the sailor's lips like a water fall. Then, and only then does the camp roar with laughter once more. Your laughter is among the loudest as you fall back into your bedroll, struggling to breath as you clutch your stomach.
You think you hear the frantic apologizes from the reverted rancher but your howling laughter muffles any other noise.
Itched was definitely scratched.
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yanderelinkeduniverse · 10 months
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it took me way too long to sit down and come up with individual Twitter handles, but it was worth it
Credit to @linkeduniverseontwitter though I took some inspo from them
original under the cut
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wayfayrr · 3 months
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🍞 anon here!
So — I accidentally came across one of those realistic cake videos. With that, why not a reader that could create realistic cakes. (* ̄∇ ̄)ノ
The chain could be settling down at Lon Lon Ranch or Legend's home. They could be out because of news of monsters with black blood, so the reader stayed behind for their safety.
When they returned, Reader checked up on them, being sweet and eventually offering cake that they made while they're out. They agreed, a little snack sounds good, and it's kind of the reader to make something for them —
Proceeds to cut out a chunk of the kitchen counter and hands one of them a plate.
>=<=>=<
"Wha — huh?! (@_@)"
"It's cake :)"
"But, that — it was a —"
"Cake :)"
"I — thank you..."
"..."
"Wait — MY CHAIR?!?"
"Cake :)"
>=<=>=<
If you can't hurt them physically, hurt them psychologically. :)
And in terms of yandere, I like to think there's a gag where the reader just somehow — maybe Hylia's blessing — has extremely realistic decoys of them made out of cake, just at their disposal.
Like, please, paint a picture of someone chatting with the reader, building up the courage to hold their hand only for their entire arm to fall on the ground. Cue confused, screaming.
They would eventually see through whether or not something was cake... maybe?
Either way, Reader would definitely be banned from the kitchen or any sort of baking utensil.
the way this is literally the same theme as something I was joking about with some friends loaf - you managed to infiltrate my discord?????/j (it was crack angst about if reader accidentally bit one of the chain and they were a hyperrealistic cake and didn't know, it spiralled from talking about wars and red velvet at the same time)
I love how much paranoia that scenario give parts of the chain though, they can't be certain that anything isn't actually a cake from that moment onwards, if leaving reader alone for such a small amount of time lead to them making so many cakes that were that realistic? who's to say they couldn't make cakes of other things - or even things out in the wild?
if they could by chance even replicate the magic of enchanted items, making them near undetectable to even the most magic sensitive of the links, well if it increases the amount of buffs they have then why not? even if it makes them sad to have to eat something with so much dedication, care and love put into it's creation
as for the yandere side, as well as what you mentioned with decoys? what about reader replacing their weapons with cake before they fled, asking fi for permission to wield her as her other master is losing himself to this sick twisted obsessive lust for them. It also makes me think of peeta in the hunger games and how he hides lmao maybe one of the links reader still foolishly trusts is suddenly grabbed by a hand in a shockingly similar way while the rest are enamoured by the saccarine decoy. only clocking on when their star in the skies falls apart under their touch.
They'd be lucky to ever bake again when they're reunited.
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peepslibrary · 1 month
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Introducing~ Lay Bankz
This is probably one of the funniest things I've ever written. I guess this qualifies as a song fic? If you've been on tiktok a couple months ago, you'd probably recognize this song.
Synopsis: What would happen if the LU boys heard the song Ick?
Warnings: Explicit lyrics, mentions of sex
Y'all can thank @trippygalaxy for this.
... Why is there a portal right outside the camp?
Why is there
a
PORTAL-
You're fairly confident the whole town heard your sigh and the chain's groans as y'all packed everything up and linked hands to go through the stupid portal. The other side of the portal was - in fact - NOT another Hyrule. It was a stadium. A stadium filled to the brim with people, a gigantic stage, and multicolored lights moving all around. Ok wait- the portal might've been the least of your problems.
The group looks around with emotions varying from confused to overstimulated. Honestly, if you squint you could see their braincells work together. You turn around, doing a quick headcount. “Wait, where’s Wind?” You count again and… nope still 9 including you. Fuck
I don't mean to judge off a first impression. Or his part-time job at 7/11. But he's a broke-ass peasant ask-
You feel your eyebrows furrow. Where do you know this song??
(ick) and he's got bad credit (ick) and he got a foot fetish (ick) DNR, but he tryin' paramedic
Shit... that's where you recognize this from. Tiktok
You're quick to move and cover Sky’s ears, making a silent prayer to whatever poor soul is listening. You need to get everyone out. You guys need to find Wind and you're fairly confident that everyone present will get red in the face when they register the lyrics.
"Time." Thankfully he managed to hear you despite the current situation. You see him angle his head up for a milisecond. Just subtle enough for you to reply with a tilt of your head towards an emergency exit. He doesn't hesitate to nod, moving to Wars and Twilight to help move everyone along. It's not a stretch to think that he's overstimulated with the environment. Has any of them ever heard this much noise so close?? You wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.
Actually... Dink can kiss your ass. He's literally the one that pulled you into this craziness in your pjs. Like... dude coulda waited until you were decent t-
“Hey, what’s going on?” You curse and look up at the question-er. His eyes stuck looking at the ground, his ears lowered under your hands while his playing with the fabric of his sailcloth. “Sky I’m trying to get you guys out of-“
(Ew) Lady boner gone (Oh no), He dry humpin' me and huffin' like a dog (Hah, hah), And he whispered in my ear did I get off?
You didn’t think it was possible to cringe laugh *this* hard. But oh boy, the collective faces made shouldn’t have been that funny. Red in the face and trying to move everyone faster - incredibly hard considering they’re all standing like statues - are Time, Wars, Legend, and Twilight. Sky, Wild, Four, and Hyrule have moved to cover their own ears, with some crouched against the floor.
Somehow everyone is able to leave the stadium with only their innocence (or lack of thereof) injured, only to find Wind standing with a security guard eating a string cheese and a can of soda next to him.
“There you guys- what happened?” Wind makes his way to y’all and you use that chance to check for visible injuries, making sure no one injured him.
“Although it’s likely they would be the one injured.” Your brain supplied helpfully.
“Uhh…” you look at the group’s states, “let’s just say they weren’t expecting what was inside the stadium.” Wind nods in understanding, “Yeah, Sam wouldn’t let me in because it was ‘for adults.’” You spare a glance towards the guard, who gives a humored nod and sends you guys on your way.
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dreaming-of-lu · 1 year
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I'm on day four post wisdom tooth extraction, and minimal solid food sucks. Do you think Hyrule would be able to heal my mouth, because I'm basically living off of yogurt, cottage cheese, and tomato soup. 😭
Sending good vibes your way!
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"Dis honeshly shucks," you really hated this. After your wisdom teeth removal, coming out of the anesthesia was embarrassing enough when one of your boyfriend's friends had recorded the entirety of your 'drunken' state where you swore the sky was coming down and thought that Legend was an actual lizard. Your boyfriend thought it was adorable; however, you don't share the same view; but you let him have it. What makes things worse, though, is you are being reduced to soft food.
You are "lovingly forced" by your doctor to eat nothing but soft food consisting of yogurt, mashed potatoes, tomato soup, applesauce, and all that is considered fluid-like. To not upset your still-healing mouth, Hyrule was strict about and on the dot about not wanting to have you deal with an infection nor rip open the stitches after all that was said and done. He made himself your designated home nurse, checking up on you and distracting you from the pain with ice packs when he couldn't use his magic on some days.
"I know, plum, just one more week, and you'll be able to eat solid food again." Hyrule placed his hands against your cheeks, watching with a faint smile as you sighed happily into them, nuzzling while pressing a tiny kiss on his palm.
"It feelsh like torchture," you whine, "I wants it to hurry up!"
"As much as I would love to heal them completely, I rather not just to be safe, and besides, you got me keeping them cool right now." Hyrule hums and presses a kiss against your nose.
"I know," you faux pout, "I'm schpoiled rotten by chu." Resting your forehead against his own, noses brushing back and forth in sweet harmony.
"You're the only one I spoil," Hyrule giggles, cheeks becoming flush and his ears flapping a little.
"Damn 'ight, I'm de only one to be schpoiled. The schame goes for chu."
"I feel so loved."
"De schame can be schaid by me."
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numberonehere2008 · 7 months
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Please reblog so it gets to more people
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quoxal · 1 month
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Chapter 3 - Old Friends?, (took me way too long)°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
The next morning came far too quickly and I groaned as the alarm went off. My body felt like shit, but my mind was strangely at peace. Maybe it was the little breakthrough I had with Soap yesterday? Seeing him being friendly towards me gave me hope that we could have a civil work relationship. I rose and got ready for another day on base. Putting on my uniform, taming my hair into a bun and then brushing my teeth I was ready for work.  I grabbed my belt with all the werewolf extras and put it on, quickly glancing at the muzzle and leash. A little sigh left me and my stomach twisted a little but I left it on.
Knowing that Soap and I would have to attend another briefing soon I shock off the weird feeling and walked up to his room to collect him for breakfast. Maybe I could find out a few more things while we ate. As I raised my hand to knock, the memories of yesterday came back to me. His tongue against my hand, the satisfied growl escaping him and my pounding heart. I tried to tell myself that it was just the unfamiliar situation that was making my heart race. I cleared my throat, but before I could knock, the door swung open.
Soap was standing in front of me, already ready to head out, hair straight and uniform crisp. He didn’t look surprised that I was standing in front of his door. Rather he had a searching look in his eyes, as if he was expecting to see something of interest on my face. Continue on: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53965189/chapters/138388780
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reinainaric · 3 months
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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 1.
mean!sukuna ryomen x fem!reader
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It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.
But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.
contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna
warnings: cursing, slight nsfw
Note: THIS WAS A REPOST (?) kinda. I accidentally posted it from my drafts without even finishing the whole fic, and I WAS GONE FOR A MOMENT AND WENT BACK AND SAW PEOPLE LIKING IT ALREADY AND I WAS LIKE ?????? 😭 so for the sake of people who already read it, im just going to post it again now and hope you come back for part 2 😭
links: << part 2 > < part 3 >
***
Who's going to tell her?
Yuji, Sukuna's younger brother, smiled sadly at you when he saw you leaving another love letter for his sibling inside his locker. It was the fifth time since last month, and you haven't given up on Sukuna despite how he harshly told you that he's never going to like somebody like yourself. And Yuji witnessed it all as he remembers you picking up the scattered sweets on the floor that Sukuna pushed away from your hand, pitying at your helpless state.
But you still smiled at Sukuna after the rejection, Yuji didn't even know if it was forced or not, but he really admired you for your bravery.
Who's going to tell you that you're only going to end up hurting yourself in the end?
Sukuna almost forgot to breathe when he sees you in front of the school building, your head turning from left to right as you wait for him. He cursed, knowing how he's going to have to deal with you so early in the morning. And he wanted to complain so much why there's only one entrance in this damn forsaken university.
Your eyes lit up when you saw him, like a puppy wagging its tail when they saw their owner. You paid no mind as Sukuna gave you a death stare as he walked right passed, ignoring your little happy greeting. What a way to ruin his morning...
"Sukuna!–"
"Get lost."
But you smiled to yourself, just following Sukuna from behind. You were a new student to this school for almost a year now, a year younger than Sukuna, and just how lucky he is that he's the person you laid your eyes upon.
People always see you as the positive energy that roams around the school hallways, always smiling at people, and being the social butterfly that seems to never run out of social battery. You were kind to kids, you liked helping school admins or facilitators when you see them walking with a heavy workload, you were friends with your professors (even the strict ones), and everybody likes you for your kind nature ever since you first move to this university.
So why would you like someone so opposite from you?
Ryomen Sukuna, the school band's bassist. Girls fawn after him, but not as much as you do. Everybody knows how cold and mean of a person he was, and he didn't like it when anybody came his way. He'd straight up reject every confession from the girls who had the courage to come up to him, but whenever Sukuna said 'no' to them, hearts seemed to pop out from their eyes, because then again, it's Sukuna. It didn't matter to the girls if they were rejected. At least Sukuna graced them with his attention, and his cold, baritone voice.
But even after a rejection, the girls will just giggle and stop. Some will come back a few times, but no one ever did it like you.
Everyday, you never fail to wait for Sukuna so early in the morning to arrive at school. You'd greet him with a cheeky smile, eyes squinting happily at seeing his face, and Sukuna responds with a grunt, glaring at you as he harshly bumps your shoulder just to walk passed.
You didn't care though. You believed Sukuna just built a wall around him, and you're more than willing to break it.
"I like you, Sukuna!"
You are insane.
It's obvious on Sukuna's face that he already had enough of your nonsense, watching you confess to him for the hundredth time. There was a dark aura glooming his features, and yours were as bright as the sun, signifying how their dynamics are contrasting and unfitting for each other. But do you even care?
Sukuna tried to search your eyes for any signs of embarrassment, or even regret, just to see if you're finally planning to stop whatever escapades that lie before your heart.
"I'm not interested, brat." He spat, venom laced in his voice.
"I'll be at your show later to cheer you on!" You showed him your smile that almost made your eyes disappear, completely hearing what he said with one ear and letting it pass to the other.
He chuckled darkly, "I don't need another annoying kid screaming their lungs out for me."
"Hey, I'm not a kid!"
"Yeah? Then you should stop this by now. You fool."
You frowned, staring at his cold gaze that seemed to wrap all over your figure. But you're unfazed, no amount of glares and venomous words would even stop you from liking him.
"Now, that's just bad." You uttered, and then smiled once again. "But I forgive you, Sukuna!"
Sukuna heaved a sigh, grunting as he turned around. "Annoying."
"Hi, Sukuna!"
Sukuna stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you inside the band's music room. Your hair was tied in a bun, and you were wearing reading glasses as you hugged your clipboard on your chest.
"Ah, you finally arrived..." The band professor said. The professor said your name, saying that you'll be their manager from now on since there were a lot of gigs coming up for the band, and in need for someone to help them organize.
Sukuna's face turned sour, seeing how you just happily smiled at everyone in the room as you introduced yourself, shaking their hands and all that. When you turned to Sukuna, you held out your hand as well, waiting for him to accept and shake it.
His brows furrowed, looking at you and down to your waiting hand, but he scoffed. He moved away and found a seat near his bandmate, completely wanting to ignore your existence.
You coughed awkwardly, your hands scratching your neck instead.
"I bought snacks!"
It was another day at practice, everyone in the band was busy preparing for their next stage at the school's fair. You noticed how everyone was working hard enough, and you perfectly had the heart to do something nice so they can take a break for a while. Everyone's head turned to look at you, and their faces lit up at the sight of you holding four bags of snacks with both hands.
Their lead vocalist, Nanami, rushed to help you, taking the bags away and placing them at the table. He ruffled your hair fondly. "Thank you, sweetheart..."
You blushed, smiling at him. "Just doing my duties!"
Sukuna rolled his eyes as he played with the strings of his guitar. He didn't like the fact that he's always stuck with you everywhere he goes, annoyed how he's forced to be here with you even on band practice.
In his eyes, you were such a desperate brat who can't even read between the lines. He never liked girls like you who stick to him like leeches, cooing and batting their eyelashes for his attention.
And that made him hate you with all his guts.
Even worse that you always flash everyone with your happy energy, acting like everything is fine even though they're not. He hates how you ignore his refusals, how you didn't mind his cold shoulders, how he made it obvious that he might just want to strangle your neck when he gets the chance, and you're still going to look at him like he's not the meanest person in the world.
"Sukuna! Aren't you hungry?" You asked, approaching his side but keeping a step distance to maintain your professionalism. After all, you still know your boundaries when it comes to things like this.
"No."
"That's impossible–"
"Will you fucking shut up for once?"
The room fell silent as you bit your lip, trying to find the right words to say. Everyone looked awkwardly at the two of you, their eyes shifting at each other's.
The school band knew you liked Sukuna, and it wasn't really strange for them whenever you tried to call for his attention. They got used to it somehow, saved by your kind nature why they didn't mind your advances. But when it comes to Sukuna being harsh to you, they stand awkwardly, feeling hurt for you even.
"Sukuna, that's not a way to treat a lady." Their drummer, Suguru, came to cut the awkward silence.
Sukuna glared at him, placing his guitar on the wall, before storming off the room with a loud slam of the door.
You heave a sigh, forcing a small smile on your lips. "Well..."
"Don't mind him."
Sukuna never fails to attract women, he always had them lining up for him to take in his bedroom.
Of course, Sukuna also had his fair share of flings too, and some hook ups. Being the bassist of their school band, it's no shock that he was one of the famous members since he's just a sight for sore eyes.
The way his veiny and big hands strum the guitar? His dark eyes that looked intimidating through to the crowd? That smirk on his face whenever he's pleased about playing on the stage?
Oh, the girls love him. Everyone wants Ryomen Sukuna.
So what's so shocking when you stumbled upon an empty classroom, with Sukuna making out with some girl you didn't even know?
Her hair was messy, her shirt was lifted up on her chest, basically exposing her bra. And your eyes darted at her panties hanging on her knees as Sukuna had his hands underneath her skirt.
Your eyes widened, and Sukuna looked at you angrily for interrupting whatever was supposed to happen if you didn't enter the room. Immediately, you stumbled backwards, closing the door behind you as you ran away from the scene.
If his rejections didn't hurt you that much, well, that definitely did.
The whole day, you didn't attend their band practice, saying that you don't feel well and needed time off. It bothered you so much that you were restless, almost out of your mind as you try to finish your homeworks.
Every time you see Sukuna, you'd look away awkwardly. Biting your lip, and staring at your feet for God knows how many minutes.
Sukuna didn't care about what happened earlier though. It was better for it that way, with you witnessing something that may have given you the thought to just give up on him? Sukuna would be so happy that the heavens were finally on his side.
The lewd picture of Sukuna and the random girl runs in your memory like a film. The way his lips pressed on her mouth, his hands lingering on her skin—it was messing up in your head.
Something was tugging in your chest, a feeling that you never felt even before. You felt your face heating up, burning in whatever emotions that were spilling to burst from your tired eyes.
Just let it pass for a while. You'll be fine tomorrow.
Of course, you'd have to face it one way or another. And let it not affect you like you always do.
Sukuna cocked his eyebrow when he saw you the next day at the parking lot, waiting for him once again. You waved at him with a smile, and he just can't help but heave another sigh of frustration.
"What are you doing, brat?" He fumed.
"What do you mean? I was waiting for you!" You sounded so cheery that it made Sukuna have a headache. "I got you cookies! I baked them–"
"Cut it off." He said so coldly that it made you stop, the hands holding the cookies packed in a zip bag stopped midair. "I've fucking had enough of you."
"What do you mean? I just–"
"Aren't you going to stop after yesterday? Fucking take a hint, brat." He glared at you, his eyes turning red in anger. "Do you want me to fuck that girl and make you watch just so you'd leave me alone?"
His words rang in your head, echoing like a demon trying to choke you to death. Sukuna watched as you stared at him with tired eyes, and lips parted a bit. He never thought he'd see your appearance like this, so defenseless for once in his life.
"I like you, Sukuna. I really do." Your voice was barely above a whisper as you turned around to walk away from him, for the first time.
You remember a notebook that you left back in the band's practice room, so you planned to get it. And since the band had a scheduled meeting in just a few minutes, you planned to just stay and wait for them since your classes are done, making you the first person to arrive in the room.
Or so you thought.
You stumbled on your feet when you saw Sukuna after you opened the door. His legs were sprawled apart, the electric guitar in his lap, strumming in a slow rhythm. Your eyes darted at each other, and it took you a moment to snap out of your thoughts.
What are you gonna do? Walked out? Do you say goodbye to him first? Or are you going to say hi and stay? Should you get the notebook you left or not? Maybe just leave him alone? But you really needed that notebook, so what now?
"What are you looking at?"
You can't turn back. No. You'd look dumb. And you're getting tired of looking so helpless in front of him.
You faked a cough, stepping inside the room, "I didn't think you'd be here..."
You stand there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do, despite how you're supposed to be looking for your things now. Sukuna paid no mind about your presence, just scribbling on a piece of paper after playing a different note on his guitar.
It took you long enough to start lifting your feet from the ground, relentlessly moving all over the shelves just to find the notebook that you left. You searched every corner, table tops, cabinets, and even chairs, but to your dismay, there was none.
You looked over at Sukuna who was busy with his guitar, mouth opening to speak, and then closing once again.
You moved a little to your spot, fiddling with your fingers and then spoke, "Hey... have you seen any pink notebook in here?"
You swear you wanted the floor to just eat you whole when he looked at you with those annoyed eyes once again.
"No."
Okay.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You headed to the table in front of him, full of papers and pens, and one cup of coffee. You read one of the papers and saw it was one of their self-composed pieces that they've been working at for a week now.
You lifted up the pile of papers to look for your missing item, but still nothing. You sighed, bending underneath the table in case it fell down, and lo and behold, your notebook that you've been looking for. You reached for it, stretching your arms out, and when you finally got a hold of it, you stood up abruptly.
But sometimes, you just happen to mess things up unintentionally...
You gasped loudly when you accidentally lost your balance, hitting the table in the process. Your hands landed on the edge of the table that caused it to shake, spilling the cup of coffee on the pieces of paper.
"Shit!" You exclaimed, pulling the cup of coffee away quickly.
"Fucking hell." Sukuna hissed when he saw what happened. He immediately stood up, taking the papers away so it won't get wet with coffee anymore.
"O-oh my god..." You shake, looking around to look for a tissue or anything to wipe the mess. "I'm sorry! I'll clean them up!" You said frantically as you try to reach for the papers, only making it worse when you suddenly tore them apart at your hold.
"Jesus Christ!" Sukuna cursed, pushing you away as he watched as the paper tore itself now. There's no use saving these papers anymore. But what's worse is that you messed up their musical piece, out of all papers that you could've spilled coffee to.
Your eyes watered, heart beating fast at the chaos that you made.
"You just can't do anything right, don't you?"
You look at Sukuna, eyes pleading for him to understand your situation. To at least be sympathetic.
"I didn't mean it! I'm sorry–"
"Your sorry won't fix anything!" He shouted that made you flinch.
"What's happening here?"
"I'm so sorry, I really am..." You sobbed in front of the whole band as you sat at the chair in the corner. Your hands were covering your face as you tried so hard not to cry too much, but you're wailing like a baby already.
Nanami kneeled in front of you, placing a hand on your knees and gently rubbing circles on it. "Don't cry, we'll figure it out."
Sukuna crossed his arms as he watched you getting comforted by Nanami. "It's clearly her fault–"
"Sukuna." Choso cut him off, his eyes telling him to shut up as he shakes his head in disapproval.
Sukuna only scoffed as he watched your figure become so small as you cried your heart out in front of everyone, muttering your apologies again and again.
He might've felt something in the pit of his stomach.
"At least say sorry to her, would you?" Yuji said as he and his brother played video games in their living room.
"Why should I?" Sukuna's eyes furrowed as his fingers focused on tapping the joystick, making loud noises that everyone can hear through the living room.
"It was kind of harsh, you know? She was already feeling sorry, yet you still had to slap it in her face. Plus, you literally shouted at her. You don't shout at a lady, man..."
Sukuna frowned.
He knew all too well that he didn't do anything wrong, he was just making you realize your mistakes. Yet why was he painted as the bad guy here now?
He groaned as they lost another game, throwing the joystick away in frustration. "Fine."
"She didn't come again?" Nanami asked as he entered the room.
"No, she said she's not feeling too good." Choso answered.
For some reason, Sukuna felt like everyone had their eyes on him. Either burning a hole in it, or asking if he knew where she went, or if he had seen her at all.
"Maybe you should say sorry to our manager."
Another nagging.
Sukuna's about to be sick of it. He didn't get how he's the one who would be sorry when it should've been you in the first place. You didn't just mess it up for him, you messed up the whole band for your clumsiness. Those papers were important after all, since it's going to be the music they're supposed to play for the school fest. So why was he at fault?
Why did he feel like he really had to make it up to you?
Why did he feel like cupping your cheeks to wipe your damn tears away when he saw you crying?
***
Here's the part 2!
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sapphire-writes · 4 months
Text
Pretty Little Thing
summary: After finding yourself at a holiday party you hadn't wanted to attend in the first place, Aemond Targaryen makes it worth while.
pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader
warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, praise, slight dirty talk, overstim, kissing, love bites, hand over mouth, titty play, allusions to Aegon being a creeper, alcohol, smoking, langauge
word count: 7.2k
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note: im back! grad school didn't kill me! hope you enjoy!
link to other stories from me!
To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙
Be there soon.
Alysanne had texted you nearly an hour ago, and with each passing minute you became more doubtful she’d be making an appearance at all.
You hadn’t even wanted to come. It’d been her idea and now she was blowing you off.
“We’re just exchanging the last of our things,” she’d promised on the phone several hours earlier, “You go on without me and I’ll meet you there.”
Yeah. Because it takes three hours to give your ex-boyfriend his stuff back. Totally.
Alysanne and Cregan Stark had been on and off again since you’d known her; this time was no exception. You knew from her first running later than I thought text that the night wasn’t going to go as you’d hoped. 
You decide to like her most recent message instead of replying, unable to stop the wave of annoyance cresting inside of you. 
You hadn’t even wanted to come.
An end-of-semester holiday party. Thrown by the elder Lannister siblings; twins Jason and Tyland. The kings of Casterly Rock are well known for their extravagant get-togethers and the unimaginable generational wealth that funds all their exploits. 
They’d long graduated from King’s Landing University, but you and Alysanne scored an invite courtesy of Cerelle Lannister, their younger sister, whom you’d been trying to avoid since you arrived. If Cerelle didn’t see you, perhaps you could escape the party unscathed.
That hope proves too good to be true as your name is called from across the room. You slide your phone back into your pocket as Cerelle approaches you. Her blonde hair hangs in effortless curls down her back, the emerald green top she wears accentuating its golden hues, along with her bright green eyes. 
You’re not exactly close with Cerelle, though she appears to enjoy your friendship, at least on a surface level. She’s part of the weekly book club you attend. Her grin widens as she reaches you, eyes drinking you in. 
“Darling!” she muses, pressing a kiss against your cheek.
“You wore it!” she says, fingers ghosting across the cashmere cardigan you’d chosen to wear that evening. Cerelle had bought it for you a few weeks ago, though you’d begged her not to; the price was more than you made in a paycheck.
Alysanne once referred to you as Cerelle’s Polly Pocket.
“She pulls you out of her pocket and plays dress up. It’s fucking weird,” she’d said. 
Cerelle’s lips curve upwards in a Cheshire cat grin as she slings an arm around your shoulder, bringing her glossed lips next to your ear.
“Stop moping in the corner like some dreary wallflower,” she purrs, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Have some fun! It’s winter break!”
Goosebumps break out on your skin at her affections. You laugh breathlessly shrugging away from her touch causing her to frown. 
“You haven’t had enough to drink,” she insists, reaching for another glass, “You’re much too antsy.”
“Alysanne was supposed to be here,” you tell her and she nods understanding, looping her arm through yours and giving your forearm a comforting pat. 
“Fashionably late as always, I suppose,” Cerelle drolls, pointing across the room, “There are lots of fascinating characters here who’ll distract you. Shall I spin a bottle to decide?”
“Hilarious,” you tell her, shaking your head.
“I never joke about a good shag,” Cerelle argues, gaze flickering about the room, “From the looks of it you could use it.” She turns back to you, matching your pout. “Don’t frown, you look too lovely.” She places her hands on your cheeks, thumbs tugging the corner of your lips upwards.
“Much better,” she praises as you hold the smile she’s decorated your face with, “Come on let's find you someone…don’t look at me like that! Someone to flirt with, that’s all. A bit of harmless fun.” 
You roll your eyes earning a pitch on the arm and you swat Cerelle’s hand away.
“There’s no one here I want to flirt with,” you insist, following her gaze around the room, “Let alone shag.”
“You’re too picky,” she muses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she scans the room, “What about Greyjoy?”
A shiver rolls through you, “No thank you.”
“Heard he’s good in the sack.”
You’d heard a lot of things about Dalton Greyjoy. None of which made you want to spend an extended period of alone time with him. You glance at Cerelle giving her a firm look. She sighs, returning to her mission.
“You need someone,” Cerelle insists after you shoot down several more options, “You haven’t been with anyone since—what was it again?”
His face flashes through your mind before you can help it. 
“Unimportant,” you quip, “Cerelle, I just want to—” Your words die as two new guests bound up the stairs into the main hallway. 
Suddenly, it’s as if all the air has been sucked from the room, your heartbeat echoing in your ears the only sound you can hear. You tug Cerelle closer, eyes wide.
“You invited them?” you hiss, as Cerelle frowns, following your gaze.
“Not me. Jason must have,” she answers, “It’s not a party without Aegon. Jay swears he has the best coke on this side of the Keep.”
Aegon Targaryen is relatively harmless as long as you keep your drink close. You’re more concerned with the tall figure who lurks closely behind him. Though the younger, Aemond Targaryen towers over his brother; his presence makes the room feel smaller, colder than it was moments ago. He’s dressed in all black, as he usually is, the silver chain around his neck the only other color. His long snow-white hair is braided down his back, an eyepatch securely covering his left eye.
He never takes it off.
Aegon pushes by his brother making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the chaos is localized. You can tell a new drinking game has begun by the sound of cheers and the echo of glasses clinking together. Aegon’s eyes lit up as he disappeared down the hall, eager to join the miscellaneous fun.
Aegon loves a good party.
Aemond watches his brother but lingers behind in the living room leaning against a wall. He extends a long arm to the bookshelf retrieving one with his long fingers. He flicks open a few pages, lips pursing. He glances up, violet eye meeting yours for the briefest moment. 
Your lips part and you look away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You had shared a couple of classes with Aemond, nothing more nothing less. He was quite mysterious. 
“Anyway,” Cerelle says, her attention wavering with each passing second, “Back to you drinking. I’ll get you another glass. Loosen up, pet.” 
You try to, you really do. No matter what her intentions are, Cerelle has been nothing but nice to you, so you allow her antics. An hour has ticked by and Alysanne has yet to respond to your latest text message. Squeezed between Cerelle and Sabitha Frey during another round of quarters you decide to plan your escape. 
“I’m going to get some air,” you tell her, rising from the couch. Cerelle rolls her eyes, “I’m not leaving, I swear!”
“You better not!” she says, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together, “I’ll come to fetch you if you’re gone too long—you know I will.”
She’s telling the truth. 
“Five minutes,” you insist, forcing a smile.
Cerelle’s nose twitches but she lets it go and nods, returning her attention to the game.
Weaving through the sea of people you make your way outside letting the door shut behind you as you walk down a few steps of the front stoop. It’s colder than you expected, you can see your breath in front of you. 
You stand shivering, trying to decide what to do next. Reaching into your pocket, you check your phone for the time. You could leave, make your escape down the steps, and catch the last bus back to Maegor’s Holdfast. 
If you stay any longer, you’ll be forced to spend the night or dip into your savings to splurge on an Uber. It’s always crazy expensive on this side of town as if the drivers know the neighborhood is full of rich kids. 
The door opens and noise from the party fills the cool night until it slams shut once more. You roll your eyes expecting Cerelle as you turn your head. 
Only it isn’t her.
Aemond Targaryen lingers on the top step, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing a cigarette between his teeth. He finds a lighter a moment later, a nice expensive one, flicking it open with a sharp click. Fire blooms in the palm of his hand and you can just make out the three-headed dragon branded on the side of the silver lighter before it disappears into his pocket again.
He releases a cloud of smoke into the air, mimicking the one your breath makes. You turn away as he walks down a few steps, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 
“You were in my class,” he says suddenly, his head tilting to the side, “History of The First Men, right?” 
You force your lips together. “Mhmm,” you answer, surprised he recognized you.
Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem the type to remember a random girl in his class. Smart as hells, he focused solely on his grades, paying little attention to the rest of the student body. He seemed to be the antithesis of his elder brother. Though incredibly different, supposedly they had similar lustful appetites. 
One for pleasures of the flesh, the other for academic validation.
Aegon Targaryen was a known party boy and ran in multiple social circles. He didn’t care about class or popularity; if there was sex, liquor, and drugs around, Aegon Targaryen would be there. 
However, there were stories about Aemond too that made their way around campus. 
“You alright?” he pressed, the silence laying heavy between you. 
“I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now,” you breathe, chuckling slightly as you rub your arms as the frigid air bites into your exposed flesh. 
Aemond quirks a brow at that, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Why’s that?”
“You’re sort of a banned topic at book club,” you admit, causing his lips to curl into a small smirk. 
“Am I?”
“Mhmm.”
Another moment of silence goes by before his curiosity gets the better of him. “Because?”
“Maris runs it,” you tell him, and he clicks his tongue, nodding to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.
Maris Baratheon, the elder of a pair of Irish twins. Floris Baratheon, once the object of Aemond’s affection for about a half second, was royally screwed over when he left her for none other than Alys Rivers. Adjunct Professor. It was quite the scandal at the time.
You’re not exactly friends with Floris; closer to Maris if you had to choose. But it's the principle of things—girl code. 
“Floris and I were never exclusive,” Aemond comments.
“Yikes.”
So maybe Aemond Targaryen is just like every other guy. Though, you’re mostly sure he’s telling the truth. The story you’d heard was that he ghosted her. 
“She shouldn’t have assumed,” he continues, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
You roll your eyes, blood boiling at his statement as annoyance begins to quicken in your belly. Aemond Targaryen seems more like his elder with every word that leaves his curved lips. 
“Right, of course not, how dare she,” is your sarcastic reply. 
Aemond tilts his head toward the sky, speaking around the cigarette. 
“You seem rather upset,” he accuses, “Funny, Floris never mentioned you.”
You turn to face him fully and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Folding your arms across your chest you jut your hip out. “We’re not friends. It’s the principle of it all. I don’t like assholes.”
His perfect lips curl slightly. “I’m an asshole?”
“Mhmm. At least Aegon owns up to his behavior, he doesn’t pretend he’s some suave guy doing nothing wrong.”
You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them.
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Sure seems like it.”
Aemond takes a step closer then. You have to tilt your head to look him in the eye. Something about being this close to him is almost unnerving, your stomach drops slightly as you focus on his prominent cheekbones. 
“It’s not my problem if a girl gets her hopes up after getting fucked properly,” he counters.
Your breath hitches in your throat and you back up, slightly slipping against the icy railing. Aemond reaches out, his hand curling around your bicep to steady you. It’s warm, almost hot; the heat seeps through your thin sweater in the shape of his fingers. 
There’s a tension between you as he holds your arm for a second too long, before the door opens and several partygoers stumble down the steps, forcing you to break apart. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette from across the stairs as they laugh tumbling into the street. You’re grateful for the distraction, taking a moment to slow the frantic beating of your heart, and the slight flutter in your stomach. 
“So,” you begin, trying to break the awkward silence the partygoers left behind with their departure, “How do you know Cerelle?”
Aemond looks at you quizzically.
“How do I know Cerelle?”
You jerk your chin up in a hasty nod. Aemond chuckles, shaking his head and taking another drag.
“Family friend,” he answers, “Old money likes to stick together.”
You nod again, unsure of how to answer as he observes you. 
“Surely you’ve heard of the Westerosi Seven?” he asks.
You haven’t.
“The what?” 
“The seven families,” Aemond says, his tone indicating that this is somewhat common knowledge, “Generational wealth that can be traced back to medieval times. The higher lords and ladies. Near royalty.” He takes another drag.
“And you’re one of them?” you ask, crossing your arms. 
“My family, yes,” he answers, “And Cerelle’s. The Baratheon girls. Stark. They’re all quite close.”
“Interesting,” you tell him, glancing down the street again, “You sound like the mafia.”
Aemond holds your gaze, not denying your allegation. You release a breathless laugh, but unease settles in your gut. 
The door opens as if on cue, and Cerelle pops her head out. 
“Darling! Come back inside you’ll catch your death,” she calls, waving you forward. She spots Aemond out of the corner of her eye, and you don’t miss the look of interest that gathers in her green eyes as they flicker between the pair of you, “Targaryen.”
“CeCe,” he politely greets, choosing to use the nickname Cerelle often kept reserved for her family only. She doesn’t comment on Aemond’s choice. 
“Hope you’re being nice to my girl,” she says, the words clipped.
“Of course,” Aemond comments and you can’t help but feel like you aren’t there. 
Cerelle glances back at you, a smile decorating her face once more. 
“Come on, pet! In the kitchen.”
Her blonde hair disappears in the door. Aemond walks down the remainder of the steps tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it beneath his heel. 
“Best run along,” he muses, not turning to face you, “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Annoyance prickles under your skin.
“She’s my friend—”
“You have got a very generous friend,” Aemond comments, turning to face you. He motions at your sweater. “Myrish, isn’t it?”
You cross your hands over your chest. 
“Mhmm,” Aemond hums glancing up at you from the bottom step, “I’d just be careful if I were you. Accepting gifts from rich strangers is a lot like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds.” 
You scoff at the implication before turning away and heading back into the townhouse. Aemond does not follow; you don’t hear the door open as you hurry back up the stairs. 
The party has since moved completely to the kitchen, sans a couple making out on the living room couch. You enter the crowded space and crane your neck to see what everyone is cheering at.
It’s something happening on the marble island, but you don’t see what—that is until Cerelle sits up, her blonde curls cascading around her face, a lime between her pearly white teeth like a cat with a mouse. 
She smiles curling her finger, beckoning Aegon Targaryen forward. He leans against her, bringing his mouth to hers and stealing the lime. The juice flows down his chin before he lets it fall, pressing a sloppy kiss to Cerelle’s lips, earning several cheers. 
As she breaks away she notices you, eyes lighting up as she slips off the counter. 
“Good, you didn’t leave!” she says giggling, “It’s your turn.”
“My turn?” you ask, heart dropping into your stomach. 
“Mhmm,” she says, dragging you forward, “Up now!” 
“Cerelle, I don’t—”
“Hush! Qyle Martell is doing it,” she says biting her lip suggestively, “Let the sexy Dornishman take a shot off you, alright?”
Your cheeks darken as he appears before you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you onto the counter like a lamb for slaughter. The crowd cheers and your eyes widen as you meet Qyle’s warm brown eyes. 
“Your sweater,” he says, motioning to it with his hand that clutches a bottle of tequila. 
You glance at Cerelle and she nods encouragingly. Over her head and in the doorway you spot Aemond. He didn’t leave after all. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, observing the chaos with a curled lip, as if the entire thing is beneath him.
Qyle whistles, drawing your attention back to him. He motions to your sweater yet again.
“Oh,” you tell him, moving to unbutton it. 
Thank goodness you wore a tank top underneath. Your fingers slip with nerves as you struggle to unbutton it. You’re the center of attention, peers cheering and chanting around you as you struggle with the bottoms. 
Quite the sacrificial lamb you are. 
“Here, can I help?” Qyle asks, reaching toward you, his fingers bumping against your own. The bottle of tequila sloshes. 
“No—no I’ve got it—oh!”
You’d moved wrong, done something wrong—or perhaps someone pushed him you’re not sure. Your head is buzzing with the noise of the room and suddenly the front of your sweater is doused in tequila. Qyle’s eyes are wide as Cerelle pushes him to the side as the smell of alcohol fills your nose. 
The room quiets momentarily until Cerelle’s bell-like laugh pierces through the silence. 
“Qyle you idiot,” Cerelle sneers, nose wrinkling with playful distaste, “You’re supposed to wait till she’s laying down—”
“It was an accident!”
“—and her sweater!” Cerelle growls in annoyance, “Go upstairs, pet, my room. Pick anything you like.”
You slide off of the counter, hurrying from the room, leaving the sound of music and chanting behind as you move deeper into the labyrinth of the Lannister home. 
Cerelle’s room lacks color and warmth. 
You’d spent the night once here before, crawling into the white feather bed after too much mulled wine. Cerelle had stroked your hair until you’d fallen asleep, only to awake the next morning with a severe headache and a churning belly. 
Popping the rest of the buttons, you peel the soaked sweater from your body and throw it in the hamper. You then walk over to Cerelle’s closet—double doors—and open it. Expensive. Perfumed. You’ve already ruined one pretty thing. Though Cerelle could hardly care about the expense, you do. You sigh, gently pushing through the soft fabric.
“Playing dress up?” a voice calls, and you turn to Aemond at the door. 
You close the closet door. You’ll just have to survive in your thin top. Aemond holds a glass of whiskey between his long fingers.
“Well, I suppose that was a given,” you answer him, sitting down on the bed.
Aemond watches you from the doorway, his arm raised above his head, fingers tapping nonsensically against the frame. 
“D’you want to see how you’re supposed to do it?” he suddenly asks.
“Do what?” you question, tilting your head to the side. 
“What Qyle was going to do,” he answers, and you understand his meaning. 
Aemond walks over to you, the ice rattling against the glass he lazily grips between his fingers, coming to stand in front of your legs. You’re not sure why he’s asking, what interest he has in you. But something in your belly tightens the closer he gets.
“Alright,” you give him a quiet answer, the word barely slipping past your lips. 
Aemond purses his lips, glancing down at your legs. 
“Spread them,” he says softly, motioning with the cup. Warmth creeps up the back of your neck and blooms on the apples of your cheeks. You lock eyes with him, focusing on the ring of violet that surrounds his pupil. You do as you’re told, knees parting; his gaze hypnotizing. “Wider.” 
Your skirt tightens against your thighs as you do so, but you spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. He takes a step forward and you’re forced to look up at him.
“Lean back,” he instructs. You’re beginning to notice how easily he slips into the domineering role. Again you follow his instructions, cheeks burning as you lean back, propping yourself on your elbows. 
You’re much more exposed without your sweater, the tops of your breasts visible in the thin top you wear. Aemond steps closer, looming over you, heat radiating from his tall form.
He reaches out, fingers caressing your cheek. You hope he can’t feel how warm they’ve become, feel your pulse fluttering against his fingers as they trail underneath your jaw and down your neck until they reach your collarbone.
“You’re to put salt here,” he murmurs, pressing against the dip of your collarbone for emphasis, “That’s first.” He leans down then, fingers trailing over your shoulder and down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Though we’re without.”
You swallow as his fingers continue to trace your collarbone. His violet eye watches you carefully before he pulls his hand away. He brings them lower, ghosting down your ribs until they reach your waist.
“May I?” he asks, fingers at the hem of your shirt. You give him a wordless nod, not able to trust your voice. Aemond pushes the fabric up slightly, revealing your navel. He holds the glass above your stomach; a drop of condensation falls causing you to flinch at the cool sensation.
Aemond flicks a brow at the constriction of your abdomen, “You’re quite sensitive.”
“It’s cold.”
“Mhmm,” he agrees, turning the glass so more condensation falls; little raindrops begin to adorn your skin, “The liquor goes here.” His fingers ruin the pattern he’s created, rough fingertips swirling the dew drops around your navel, “Tequila.”
“We haven’t got any,” you breathlessly tell him, his touch leaving a scorched trail across your belly. 
Aemond brings his glass closer, pressing the edge against the beginning of your belly button, letting some whiskey pool there. Your hands clenched into fists as the cold liquid fills you up; you watch as it shakes slightly, overflowing. Aemond leans forward, catching the spill with his mouth causing a gasp that sounds more like a moan to leave your mouth. His mouth covers your navel and you can feel his tongue swirl around, collecting the liquid he poured there with hot, calculated strokes. 
His violet eye peers up at you from behind silver lashes, half-lidded as he hollows his cheeks sucking harshly. He reaches toward the side table, mouth never leaving you, to place his glass on the edge freeing his hand. You can feel his tongue circling your navel, gently probing the sensitive skin. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at the ticklish sensation. Aemond presses his hands against your obliques before releasing you with a pop, his chin and lips shining. 
“That’s how it's supposed to be,” he murmurs, not moving from the spot between your legs. Some of his silver hair has fallen across his brow, and on instinct you reach forward, brushing it from his eyes. 
“There’s one more part,” you tell him, fingers grazing the beginning of the scar that mares his left brow before disappearing behind the patch.
“What’s that?” he asks, his gaze revealing he knows the answer. 
He just wants to hear you say it, you realize. 
Your lips part, fingers still somewhat tangled in his hair; the strands soft as silk between your fingers. 
“There was a lime,” you tell him, “The person….holds it in their mouth.”
Aemond pushes up then, his hands sliding up your sides until they’re pressed into the bed on either side of you, his face inches from your own. 
“Have you got a lime on you?” he asks, his breath warm on your face, the scent of whiskey strong between you.
“No,” you murmur, not knowing where to look. He’s so close you can see the flecks of blue and gold in the lilac iris of his eye, count his silver lashes, and notice the small indentation on the tip of his prominent nose.
He hums again, his eye dropping to your lips.
“Pity,” he says, lips down turning into a pout.
Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest with the way it's pounding incessantly against your ribcage. He’s so close your chests are practically touching; your nipples straining against the fabric of your top. His chain peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes flicker to his lips, tongue darting out to wet your own and he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
Your hands wrap around his neck as he kisses you; his lips so soft and firm against your own, skilled tongue parting them with ease to deepen the kiss. A moan doesn’t make it out of your throat as his hand cradles your jaw, the sound of soft kisses is the only thing you can hear besides the muffled hum of the music playing downstairs. 
Aemond pulls away then, the look is his eye ravenous as he lowers himself between your legs once more. For a minute you think he may grab his glass and do the party trick all over again, the kiss just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Instead, he pushes your skirt up, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs. You realize a moment too late what he’s doing.
Riiiip!
“Aemond!” you squeak, as he rips the seam of your tights, “These were a new pair!”
“I can buy you another,” he says, pressing a kiss against the smooth newly exposed flesh, “Or perhaps CeCe can. You’re her favorite plaything, aren’t you?” 
Your cheeks burn at the statement, your mouth pressing together in a tight line. Aemond grins, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt and wiggling it down your legs along with your ruined tights.
“Oh she doesn’t like that,” he says, clicking his tongue, “But it’s true, isn’t it?” His hands are roaming higher now, grazing against your clothed center. You’re certain he feels the evidence of your arousal but he stays quiet about it. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? A pretty little plaything.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss, humiliation seeping into your veins, though it does little to quell the desire pooling in your belly. 
“No shame in that,” he says, shaking his head, “I understand Cerelle, entirely.” His fingers tug your panties down your bare legs, exposing your wet center. Aemond’s eye locks on it, lips quirking upward. “I like pretty things as well.”
“So I’ve heard,” you quip as Aemond’s second-hand joins the first. He swirls a finger low against your entrance and you clench as he drags it upwards.
“Have you?” he muses, circling your clit with minimal pressure, “And what have you heard?”
“That you’re as insatiable as your brother,” you manage to choke out as his thumb continues to tease your clit, “You just hide it better.” 
Aemond cocks his head to the side in silent agreement before pressing his face against you. A sharp cry leaves your lips as his tongue explores from your entrance up to your clit, the tip circling the sensitive button. 
Eyes rolling back in your head, Aemond nuzzles his face against you, tongue slipping down and pressing into your clenching hole. He hums in approval as you make another desperate noise as his tongue curves upwards inside of you. 
Seven hells, how is anyone’s tongue long enough to do what Aemond’s is doing? Your toes curl as his tongue hooks upwards against the front of your pelvic bone, thrusting against the sensitive patch of nerves that resides there.
“Oh gods—fuck—fuck!” you cry as he continues the repetitive movement of his tongue, waves of pleasure lapping up your spine, sending shivers through your whole body. “Hells Aemond…”
His nose presses against your slippery clit, rubbing against it in a way that stokes the pleasurable fire burning in your belly. His hands hold your thighs open and you throw your head back against the bed as the pressure inside you builds and builds and builds. Your back arches and your thighs tremble in his bruising grasp.
You lean up on your forearms to watch him, his violet eye intently watching your face, studying your reaction. You can tell he’s smug at the effect he’s having on you. He would often get that same look in his eye in class after he proved someone wrong or made a more intelligent point. How you must look to him now; all spread out before him, flushed and slack-jawed, dewy-eyed and pretty. 
You’re a pretty toy to play with. Just want he wanted. 
His tongue leaves your fluttering pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like needy before two fingers sink inside your warmth to replace what he took away. 
Aemond’s tongue returns to its place around your clit as his fingers curve upwards replaying the motion from before. The stimulation now is much harsher, the pads of his fingers dragging effortlessly against your spongy walls, curling with brutal intention; relentlessly pressing against the swelling spot inside of you. 
His warm, wet tongue against your clit only hastens the tightly winding ball of pleasure in your gut and you feel your walls swelling around his fingers as your release knocks the wind out of you. 
You come with a strangled cry, hands gripping the bed sheets as your abdominal muscles contract to the point of pain, all your muscles going taut as warm waves of euphoria rush through you. 
Aemond releases a choked chuckle of appreciation as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He fucks you through it, stretching out the wave of your orgasm until your legs are trembling and the overstimulation causes you to hiss at him.
“Stop, stop, please.”
“Alright…shhh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound and gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, “There you go, that’s a good girl. You did so well for me.”
You can’t help but warm at his praise, the ringing in your ears fading as your chest swells. Aemond is on you once more, lips pressed to yours the mingled taste of whiskey and you hot on his tongue. 
“Are you going to let me fuck you?” he murmurs between sticky kisses, “Hmm?”
“Aemond…” you breathe into his mouth, hoping that is enough for him.
You can feel him smirk against your lips and know instantly it's not. He tuts disapprovingly, pushing you back against the mattress, his face dipping into the crook of your neck.
“What would Floris say?” he teases, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp. His braid is all but ruined. “I thought you said something earlier,” he continues, nipping and sucking at different spots on your neck, humming with pleasure when he locates a spot that has your back arching. 
“I don’t—”
“Loyalty, I recall,” he purrs, his hand snaking down your side, gripping the meat of your thigh and hoisting it around his waist, “Something like that.”
“Aemond,” you whimper helplessly as he grinds against you, the feeling of his hard cock concealed by his trousers driving you close to madness, “Aemond please.”
“You’re going to have to say it,” he insists, kissing your cheek, “Come on, say it.”
“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, “Please Aemond—gods.” 
“They can’t hear you,” he taunts, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, “You’re all mine.”
You frantically nod, nose bumping against his as his lips curl into a greedy smile. He removes his shirt with one hand before he rolls off of you and onto his back, motioning to you with his hands. 
“Go on then,” he says, “Take what you want.”
With shaky hands, you undo his belt above the sizable tent in his pants before dragging the zipper down and releasing his cock. He’s bigger than you expected, both in length and girth, the reddened tip already weeping in anticipation. You stroke his velvety shaft once before he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. 
His hands pull your shirt from your body as you straddle him, his cock nudging at your folds. Aemond’s hands slide up your back, undoing your bra and freeing your breasts. 
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, hands cupping the sizable mounds, “Gods, you’re so lovely.”
Your face burns at his praise as you raise your hips before gripping him in your hand and guiding him inside of you; gently letting yourself slide down his length, inner walls fluttering around him at the new sensation. Shuddering on top of him you whine at the stretch. “Gods—”
“You can take it,” he murmurs, squeezing you softly in encouragement, “Come on baby, that’s it, just like that.”
Slowly you let him bottom out in your warmth, happily seated on his cock feeling incredibly full. You brace your hands on his chest as he pinches both of your nipples, your jaw slacking in response. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, gauging your reaction as your eyes screw shut.
“That feel good?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper.
“Yes,” you breathe, slowly starting to ride him, hips lifting and returning to his with a soft smack. 
“There she goes,” he murmurs, hands dropping to your hips, squeezing, “Take what you need, gevie.”
A breathless moan escapes you as you ride him, his hands guiding you through the movements. The hum from the music downstairs matches the ringing in your ears. 
Aemond drops his hand from your waist bringing it to the apex of your thighs. His lips part as he watches you rise and fall on his cock, his length coated with your arousal. 
“That’s it,” he coos, his tone bordering on one of condensation, “Just like that—there’s a good girl.” His thumb brushes against your clit as he says it, a broken moan leaving your lips as pleasure ignites your veins. 
His movements are soft, tantalizing, and brutally calculated as he circles the sensitive button; his other hand clings to your waist, hard enough to bruise. Surely they’ll be memories of his touch when you wake; dark purple petals blossoming on your soft flesh at first light. He guides your movements as they become sloppier the closer you get to your release. 
It sends tingles up your spine, your chest and neck growing warmth as you edge closer to the precipice of pleasure.
No other man has made you finish before.
“Are you close?” Aemond murmurs, never stopping his attention to your clit, the subtle movement of his hips thrusting up into you, “I know you are—can feel you clenching around me.”
Your head falls back, mind foggy as you desperately grind against him, trying to ignore the burn in your hamstrings. Aemond’s hand leaves your hip crashing down against your ass with a loud smack. You yelp in surprise, head jerking forward, nails clawing into the hardened muscles of his chest. Aemond’s hand remains where he’d spanked you, fingers curling into the meat of your ass as he releases a breathless laugh; his eye flickers to where your nails dig against his pale flesh, leaving a trail of red behind as they scrape down his chest.
“Answer me,” he demands, and you quickly nod earning another stinging slap, “With your words gevie. Use those pretty lips.”
“Yes,” you practically gasp, “Yes, Aemond I’m close—”
“And you want to cum, don’t you?” he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk, “Do you want me to make you cum?”
“Yes, Aemond please—” the sentence dies with a moan as he plants both feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up against yours at an inhumane pace. Your eyes screw shut, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as all the muscles in your body tense followed by a sudden burst of euphoria pulsing through you. 
Aemond hums in satisfaction as you ride your high, blood rushing in your ears as you shake on top of him, clenching around his thick length. He’s careful to pull his thumb away from your sensitive clit as your eyes flutter open, eyebrows scrunched together at the overstimulation. But his compassion is short-lived as he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back and slotting his body on top of yours. 
His cock is removed for merely a moment at the switch of positions before it’s stretching into your once more earning a sharp gasp. Aemond’s hand covers your mouth in an instant, his face buried in the crook of your neck once more. 
“Shhh,” he coos, placing a kiss under your ear, “Hear that?” he asks, thrusting gently into your warmth causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “Listen.”
His hips continue their gentle roll against yours, slowly stoking the pleasurable fire that is reigniting in your belly. Limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you blink rapidly trying to focus on what he’s asking. 
The music downstairs has died.
“Everyone’s going home,” he murmurs, through another kiss, “We’d best be quick. Would hate for lovely Cerelle to find her pet in such a position.”
Embarrassment burns your cheeks and he chuckles, keeping his hand over your mouth as he slings your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot almost lovingly as he drags his cock in and out.
“Keep quiet,” he murmurs, the sound of silence deafening with the lack of music, “Can you do that?” He’s rather cruel with his question, delivering a particularly harsh thrust as he asks, then clicking his tongue in disapproval at your muffled moan. “Thought not.”
So his hand remains as he plows into you, the sounds of your pleasure muffled but still desperate as you claw at his shoulders. 
“That’s it,” he encourages, “Cum for me again, just like that.” His pelvis grazes against your clit, the friction only aiding in his efforts of making you reach your release once more. His violet eye scans your face before he dips to your collarbone, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth and you cum with a desperate cry against his hand. 
“There you go,” he coos, the words breathy and broken his hips faltering as your walls clamp down around him, “Squeezing me so fucking tight—fuck.” He regains his pace with renewed enthusiasm as your walls continue to flutter around him. Aemond removes his hand from your mouth pressing it into the mattress beside your head. 
Nerves raw from the continued stimulation a tear rolls down your cheek as he chases his own release. Aemond leans forward, hot tongue darting out to catch the salty stream as he hums in satisfaction. 
“We’ll have more time next time,” he whispers the promise against your cheek, “I want to explore what other pretty noises you make.” His lips capture yours then, swallowing the whimper you release. 
“I’m very curious,” he murmurs against your lips, slinging your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees back beside your ears. “And I’m very thorough.” A silent scream leaves you as he slams back into you, toes curling as you cum again, vision going white with the force of it. 
Aemond’s hips meet yours a few more times and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you before the warmth of his release fills you to the brim. You’ll need to make a trip to the pharmacy, but you’ll think about that later. He stays like that for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you as you both try to regulate your breathing. 
Aemond lowers your legs gently from around his shoulders and brushes some sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod as he kisses you sweetly.
“Just fucked out,” you assure him, a pleasurable ache radiating down your thighs. Aemond hums, carefully pulling his softening cock from your warmth.
The emptiness takes your breath away as he stands. “Wait here,” he orders, walking towards Cerelle’s bathroom. He returns a moment later, washcloth in hand. You push yourself onto shaky forearms as he carefully cleans the mess between your thighs.
“Thank you,” you tell him, face burning from his attention.
“No need for thanks,” he insists, “It’s the bare minimum.”
“For you maybe.”
Aemond flicks a brow toward his hairline, his violet eye meeting yours. His expression is curious, but you sense he’s not going to push you to elaborate. You hold his gaze. 
Not tonight.
“Are you staying here?” he asks, standing when he’s done, handing you pieces of your clothes.
“I think I have to,” you answer, putting your skirt back on and glancing at the clock, “The last bus is long gone.”
Aemond frowns, reaching for his phone.
“I’ll have my driver take you,” he says, unlocking his screen.
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s no trouble,” he insists, placing the phone against his ear, “Cole. Ten minutes. Thank you.” He hangs up quickly leaving no time to argue.
“Thanks,” you mutter awkwardly while finishing dressing. You walk to Cerelle’s large mirror and attempt to fix your sex hair. Your eyes widen in horror as you tilt your head to the side, leaning closer to get a better look. 
“Aemond,” you hiss, fingers pressing against the three red marks sure to bruise, “I look like I’ve been mauled by a bear.”
Aemond walks up behind you dragging his fingers down the curve of your neck and over your collarbone. Goosebumps appear in their wake. Three more red marks lead a path down to the top of your right breast. Several sizable mouth-shaped love bites. 
Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.
“Think of them as a gift,” he tells you, the curve of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck.
His hand curves around your waist, the other slinking up to turn your face towards him. He hums appreciatively, kissing your lips, then your cheek. Down your neck to your shoulder. You glance in the mirror once more, catching his eye. 
There’s something new there. Almost possessive. 
His grip on your waist tightens and he presses his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.
Outside, snow begins to fall.
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weepingflowerbonkcop · 4 months
Text
Here's another post regarding the Linked Universe created by jojo. I'll try and finish all the rest some time. Enjoy!
What the Chain thinks about a Modern! Reader using slang/meme references:
Time
• I believe that Time being the oldest of the Links is old school/traditional when talking.
• He's using real medieval talk, things like saying "Salutations/greetings, my friend." Instead of just saying a simple, "Hi/ Hey, how you doing bud?"
• He's the type of guy to not use too many abbreviations when he talks. Things like saying, "cannot" instead of "can't." He just radiates that energy.
• So, him meeting a Modern! Reader would be ... quite the interaction. The first time meeting reader would've startled him as they use slang and just throwing him for a loop.
• He's kind of like the cat with the buffering wheel on its forehead, but that's only whenever reader speaks or opens their mouth.
• He gets one of the younger incarnations to translate to him as reader joins the group on their adventure.
• He'll try his best to understand the terms the more he grows on the reader.
• As for memes tho - no. Just straight up no. He doesn't understand them or the readers broken humour. Gremlin humour he gets but the idea that reader bursts out laughing while looking at something remotely close or similar to meme just makes him worry.
• He will however try and use some of the terms when he talks, but he just ends up butchering them or using them incorrectly. He sounds like the hip dad trying to stay in touch with the kids.
• 6.5/10 He tries to understand/learn readers slang and that's just sweet. He would've scored higher if he wasn't that dad.
Twilight
• Twilight - similar to Time - is more old school when talking. He's not as uptight as Time and does use abbreviations when talking and he slurs some of his words sometimes.
• The fandom has established that he's got an accent and it makes it harder to understand him when he talks sometimes.
• Poor guy thought it was the same for you when he first heard you use slang. He genuinely thought it was just an accent.
• He doesn't always understand, but he's quicker than Time to learn what you mean. He's the one to sometimes translate what you say to Time after Wild explains it to him first  and half the time it's incorrect though does Wild do it on purpose? Maybe.
• He's the one to ask Wild in his spare time about some of the terms and how to use them when talking to try and impress you.
• With memes though ... he also buffers. Modern! Reader would make even the slightest reference to a meme and he'll sit and buffer for a bit before asking. Its funnier when he's Wolfie.
• He finds certain memes to be funny though. Cowboy memes or any farm memes would tickle his funny bone.
• He's a 7.5 or 8/10 because he's a sweetheart and uses his free time to try and get closer to Modern! Reader even if it's just by using some slang.
Warriors
• I'd imagine him having a bit of a higher education since he's a knight and having travelled with Athena to other kingdoms. He would use the military lingo and the more posh Hylian/upper class Hylian.
• He talks proper and sometimes pronounces words a little different. Almost like he's got a fancy British accent.
• He's taken back by the loose words reader uses some confuse him leading to him asking questions.
• He's actually one of the Links that's more interested in learning slang and memes from readers world.
• He's a bit more open to readers world and the quirks that come with it other than just the slang.
• He tries to figure out the slang by taking in the entire sentence and trying to figure it out. He's definitely the cool uncle when he uses slang and correctly.
• He's Time's other translator when Twilight isn't around.
• Warriors actively stays quiet whenever reader talks because he does like how well slang rolls off readers tongue.
• He wouldn't fancy the meme references all that much, but he tries and keeps an open mind.
• Warriors does make bets with Legend about some of the terms and what they mean or how Time will react to reader using more slang/meme references through the day. He'll sometimes egg reader on with any military memes especially the Area 51 memes.
• Overall he's a solid 8/10.
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luimagines · 1 year
Note
Magical girl Sky notices Reader shivering while getting ready for bed (at a typical chain camp or elsewhere, up to you) and wraps them up in his wings and cuddles them to sleep.
- Glitter ✨
This is going to be targeted. If you know, you know.
Enjoy.
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
You were waiting on your balcony.
You doubted he was going to show up tonight but you wanted to talk. Not about anything important, mind you. It was nothing serious. But you found yourself missing his company and well... it’s not like you wanted to burden your roommate with this.
They would only tease you anyway- even if it’s with the best of intentions.
You sighed and let another shiver run through you. It was late and your tea had long gone cold. He wasn’t coming. It was time to get under the blankets before you got sick.
You turned and went into the apartment. Putting your cup in the sink and letting some clean water run through it to dilute it, you rationalize that you’ll clean it tomorrow. Phoenix isn’t coming tonight. He has own life besides being a hero. Not to mention that there’s a lot of people who would want to have his attention anyway. Who are you? Just some coffee shop owner.
You shake your head and leave back to your room. You turn the lights off and move the blankets to get in bed.
Wait.
You groan loudly and get out of bed, turning the lights on once more. You left your book and contracts out on the table. If you lose those, it’s going to take months to get them back in order and they’re needed next week for your remodeled café.
You head out and pick them up, checking them to make sure that no stray paper has been wisped away by the wind.
There’s one gone.
You groan even louder. It sounds like a gunshot in the quiet of the night. “Great. Just what I needed. That took two weeks to get. How am I going to get it in four days?”
“Looking for something?” A voice quips.
You yell and drop the papers. Phoenix drops quickly and puts a hand on the file to keep the paper from falling all over the place- and more horrifying- from being scatter throughout the entire city.
“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly. He holds up the missing document. “I caught this as I flew by. I thought you were asleep.”
“Almost.” You sag your shoulders. “You caught me just in time.”
You ignore the chill in your bones that hasn’t dispersed yet. That’s what you were hoping the blankets would do.
Phoenix holds it out to you and gingerly take it, putting it back in the manila folder. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Any thing for my favorite civilian.” He bows comically.
You roll your eyes. “Do you say that to every civilian?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I hardly talk to the civilians. You know that.”
You do know that. In fact, you called him out on it when he first showed up at your side to talk to you about your wrecked shop.
You blush, not able to come up with a come back in time. “Well.... shush.”
You sneeze.
Phoenix’s teasing smile drops and he reaches forward. “Hey, you ok?”
His hands touch your cheek. His eyes widen and his jaw drops. You smack his hands away and hiss but it’s too late. Phoenix blinks and rubs his fingers together. “You’re freezing. How long were you out here for?”
“It’s-”
“I kept you waiting...” He says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” You instantly say. Because it is. Because you find that you don’t actually care. “You’re here now aren’t you?”
“You should sleep-”
“No.”
“You’re going to get sick like this.”
“I’m fine.” You sneeze again, not able to stop the following shiver in time.
Phoenix’s scarf flaps behind him and reaches forward. It’s warm and soft. You never understood how exactly it managed to function like wings to allow him to fly- but that’s not what’s on your mind. Your fingers gingerly trance the inside of the clothes before it tightens around you and begins to move.
You try to fight it.
“Hey! Let me out!”
You’re dropped back onto your bed. Phoenix looks unimpressed. He retracts his scarf and puts his hands on his hips. “The blankets are messed up.” He says quietly. “You were already in bed.”
“I had to pick up the documents anyway.” You snap.
Phoenix shakes his head. “Goodnight, My Dear. Don’t let me keep you.”
“No!” You reach out- just missing his sleeve. He pauses for you anyway. “You just got here. Don’t go yet.”
He pauses. “Are you sure? It’s late.”
“I know... just... I wanted to talk to you.” You falter. You weren’t intending on being that honest.
Phoenix blinks. “Oh?... Uh... About what?”
“I dunno.. anything.” You shrug.
“...”
“...”
“...Move over.” Phoenix taps your shoulder and climbs into your bed next to you. “I don’t trust you to actually go to sleep if I leave you.”
“Oh please- there are better ways too-” You get cut off. His wings are back and they wrap around you again. They’re warm.
You trace your finger over them and the lines of his scarf. “How does it do this?”
“Magic.” Phoenix snorts. “How was your day?”
You pause and look back at him. He’s laying down, in your bed, with his elbow in the pillow and his fist against his cheek. One of the winds moves to brush a bit of your hair away from your face.
You snuggle deeper into the covers, suddenly not as cold anymore. “A bit boring but productive.”
“Can’t argue with those.” He grins.
You smile back and yawn. “What about you?”
“Do you want the short story or the long?”
“Long. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
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trippygalaxy · 9 months
Text
Pairing: Modern! Time x GN! Reader (Romantic) Warnings: Fluff!! (Readers wants to draw a dick on Time, brief mention of overthinking)
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Time
Time, your dashing boyfriend, has a ton of tattoos on his back and arms. One day when the two of you are relaxing on your sofa, you half heartedly mentioned how fun it’d be to colour in his tattoos, fingers idly tracing the intricate drawings.
You bounce slightly as his chest rumbles with a soft laugh. “Yeah? Ya think so?” He asks, rubbing small circles into your back.
“Yeah. I think so.” You repeat him with a smirk on your face. All you get is a huff in return. The next day, your lover came home with a item hidden behind his back. You knew he was hiding something by the way he kept his back to the door as he closed it (normally he turned to close the door, making sure it was properly closed -and locked if it was late- before continuing), making sure his back was not in your view. You were tempted to ask your darling lover, but it seems you didn't have to wait any longer for your questions to be answered. In the next moment, a pack of markers were thrown into your lap, your lover quickly following. "Hey!- Watch it!" You let out a yelp, ushing to move the package of markers, making sure your lover doesn't land on them as he throws himself onto your lap. "What are these for?" Turning over the colourful package in your hand, you notices in big, bubbly letters 'washable markers.' Oh?
"Weren't you the one who said it would be fun to colour in my tattoos?" Time gives a playful nudge to your knee, his one eye staring up at your wide eye expression. Your slight stammer as you connect the dots made him smile fondly. "Really? You'll let me..." You hesitated, what happened if these weren't washable? What if it stains him? Would he be upset if it doesn't look good? What if-- "Pour your heart out, my little artist" A comforting hand rests atop of yours as he hums his words, his thumb rubbing along your knuckles. His voice rumbles in his chest like some overgrown cat. The image made you chuckle. A heavenly song to your lover, his smile only growing as he sees your shoulders relax before you open the -once- neat package. "Can I--"
"No, you can not draw a dick on me."
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yanderelinkeduniverse · 5 months
Text
Afternoon one of (y/n)‘s modern fandom 101 classes
Hyrule, who was having some trouble with the concept: Oh! They call them “ships” cause of relation-ships!
Four, who got it almost immediately: What did you think it meant???
Hyrule:
Hyrule: boat
For context:
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axelsagewrites · 5 months
Note
Can I request a modern! Jacaerys x Fem! OC fic where Rhaenyra is best friends with the OC’s mother and both Rhaenyra and the OC’s mother try to get Jacaerys and the OC to be friends and like each other but they absolutely hate each other ( like actually hate ) even when they were babies. Then, they grow up near each other and go to the same school but they still hate each other severely. During high school Jace becomes popular, and becomes the captain of his soccer team, and even gets a girlfriend while the OC is not popular by any means and is very shy and reclusive. They go off to uni, and the OC finally shows up to a frat party ( Jace’s frat ) and the tension sort of at its height, and that night and the OC accidentally ends up pregnant and they learn to love and live with each other during her pregnancy. Thank you so much if you can do this btw!!!
Jace Velaryon*Frat Party
Pairing: jace x f!reader
Word count: 1982
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Warnings: rivalry, mentions of bullying, frat jace, flirty frat cregan, implied smut but nothing explicity, hate sex, accidental pregnancy, drinking
Masterlist Here
Part Two linked at end
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You had no clue how someone so sweet and loving and kind and amazing could birth such an idiotic insufferable twat. Yet somehow Rhaenyra had managed to do just that. Your mother was friends with Rhaenyra, lovingly dubbed aunty Nyra by you, and were so close that they deliberately moved into the same neighbourhood. This was all be swell if not for the fact that her eldest son Jace was just such a dick.
Your mothers tried to make you like each other and constantly set up playdates but you would simply ditch Jace to play with Luke until you realised, he’d only been so quite because he was giving your barbies haircuts. Eventually some time in middle school they gave up trying but still forced you to go on joint family vacations and similar hellish events.
There was a time in your freshman year of high school you almost became friends. That summer had gone surprisingly well with you both finally being civil enough to talk to each other. Then school rolled around again and Jace got onto the high school soccer team. You congratulated him and even was debating plucking up the courage to ask him to go out to celebrate since despite how much you hated him even you thought he was cute. Then he and sara snow came waltzing out of school and in hand and you went right back to hating him.
It wasn’t just because you were jealous, which you were but refused to admit, but because Sara snow had tormented you all of your first year. And Jace knew this. He knew she would taunt you and make pig noises at you in the corridor but yet here he was sucking face with her in front of your locker which was sadly right above his.
It only got worse when he dumped her then became the captain of the team. Then came a string of girlfriends who’d fawn over him relentlessly in school. To say it was hell was an understatement especially since it always seemed to be the girls that would tease you or laugh when you walked past. Highschool sucked to say the least but finally after all these years of hard work you got the letter.
Youd got into your dream school and were set to be moving to the dorm soon. A new start, new friends, another chance. Finally. Your bubble however was popped by your usual enemy. Jace fucking Velaryon was going there as well. You basically ran him down at the joint celebratory dinner your parents threw you both to say that if he dared ruin university for you the same way he ruined high school you’d make sure he’d never kick another ball again.
So, for the first two years you had peace. You had a small circle of friends, great classes, amazing grades, and your hair finally began to cooperate with you. Aunty Nyra even joked uni had given you a glow up when she saw you this summer. What you didn’t see was the way Jace’s eyes followed you as you left the room.
“I can’t believe you’ve never went to a frat party,” Aly said as she began to raid your closet, pulling out a dress and holding it to herself, “This poor dress. it deserves to see a little fun,”
You snorted at your friends as you helped straighten Sansa’s hair. “You wear it,”
“Or you could,” Sansa retorted, backing off when you held the straighteners in a way an angry mother holds a wooden spoon.
“Either you wear it, or I will,” Aly said as she tossed it on the bed and continued her raid. Your roommate Sansa had recently become friends with Aly and in an unexpected turn so had you. you and Sansa were far quieter than her, but Sansa always seemed to come back from hanging out with her with a huge smile, “Girl look at this top,” Aly broke your train of thought as she held up a black low-cut top, “How you not gonna go out when you own all these clothes?”
“My aunty got me them,”
Aly rolled her eyes as she continued her search, “Well I’m stealing the top but you’re wearing that dress,” she said and before you could even protest, she cut you off, “You are far too hot to be at home in sweats on a Saturday night. We are going,”
You sighed as you finished Sansa’s hair, but she turned to look up at you, “Cmon,” she whined, “one hour and if you don’t like it, we’ll all come back here and watch the polar express,”
You sighed yet again before pausing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all your confidence was far better than what it once was, and you had a good few friends you knew would also be going. Your eyes wandered to the dark red dress on the bed. “Fuck it,” you said, snatching up the fabric.
“You’re coming?!” Sansa grinned, flinging herself off the bed, “Finally come on sit down. Its makeup times!”
-
Sansa and Aly worked their magic and soon you were walking arm in arm with both girls to the frat. And you had to say they had done a good job if you do say so yourself. Even if you were currently freezing that was. “Boys,” Aly greeted with a wide grin as she walked up to the boy at the door, Cregan you were sure.
“Troubles here,” he joked, his eyes wandering up and down, “And you brought a friend,” he said, eyes turning to you, and it was like the wind was knocked out of you when you saw his face, “Nice to meet you I’m Cregan,”
“Hi,” you grinned, quickly introducing yourself before rushing inside with a giggling Sansa and Aly.
“He was so checking you out,” Aly nudged your ribs.
“Okay maybe this was a good idea,” you laughed as she dragged you and Sansa off for some drinks.
-
As you stood filling your cup with cheap beer there was a set of gorgeous brown eyes watching your every move, “Dude you know that girl?” Cregan asked as he walked over with more drinks for him and Jace.
“She’s my neighbour,” he said, taking the drink and trying not to let his eyes wander again.
Cregan let out a low whistle, “If she was my neighbour, she would not be here alone,” he laughed prompting Jace to shove his elbow into his ribs, “Hey man!”
-
Meanwhile you had somehow been convinced to head to the dance floor. Perhaps the three drinks Aly had got you and the buzz in your head had helped. The night had been going surprisingly well. So far at least. You hadn’t even realised Jace was here. That was till you felt two strong hands grip your hips, “Not such a goody two shoes now,” Jace’s voice was low, his breath tickling your neck.
You turned around with a drunken grin as you attempted to push him back, but your attempt was futile, “What did you miss me too much?” you joked.
A grin spread across his lips, “You’re drunk?” he asked, his head tilted like a puppy.
“Watcha gonna do about it? tell on me?” you teased as you crossed your arms. Not knowing it gave Jace an even better view of your tits. “I’m just having a little fun,”
He chuckled as his hands returned to your hips, his head dipping slightly in a way that made butterflies spark in your stomach, “Why don’t you show me how to have a little fun then doll?”
Your eyes flickered down, scanning his face for a moment before grinning, “Follow me then,” you said as you lead him to the drinks table.
Several drinks later you awoke in dark blue sheets and a soccer jersey wondering where the hell your dress went and a strong arm around your waist. The low pounding of your head and Jace’s snores brought you back to reality. “Fuck,” you muttered as you tried to ease out of his grip.
Your eyes fell to the floor where your dress had apparently ended up last night. You debated which was worse, walking home in last night’s dress or Jace’s jersey. You quickly decided to steal a pair of his joggies as well and just ball up the dress and take it with you. as you crept out the room you ignored the faint snoring in the background.
Part of you wondered if it had all been a bad dream. That was till your phone buzzed.
Jace
You stole my jersey
You
What you gonna do? Tell on me?
You sighed as you flung your phone to the side and shoved your pillow in your face to scream. Funnily enough what you had been doing only last night as well.
-
It was the next day when a heavy knock came at the door. when you opened it, eyebrows knitted, you were met with an infuriatingly hot site. Jace’s arm was lent against the door meaning he was able to glare down at you perfectly, “I want my jersey,”
“Sorry do I know you?” you asked, crossing your arms with a tilted glare.
Jace scoffed slightly before grinning, “You seemed to remember my name fine the other night,” this time you scoffed but not before Jace pushed his way in. “Where is it?”
“Get out of my room!” you protested as Jace shut the door behind him and started rummaging. As his hands went to grab your sheets you pulled at his arms to keep him back but not shockingly, he was able to push you off with ease. “Hey!”
“What’s this?” he said, his hand reaching for the jersey that had been under your duvet however your face went red when he lifted it. a wide grin spread across his stupid face, “What’s that princess?”
“Don’t princess me,” you stuttered as he went to grab the pink silicone you’d left on your bed. “Don’t!” you whined as you grabbed his wrist, accidentally ending up face to face with him yet again.
You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and you saw his eyes dip for a moment as a pit grew in your stomach. Before you could think what to do next his lips had crashed onto yours, his jersey slipping from his grip as his hands moved to cup your face.
Your hands grabbed at his t-shirt, pulling him in closer till you were stood pressed against his hard chest. His hands moved to your back, finding the small of your waist. Jace sat down, bringing you with him to staddle his lap. You gasped when you felt his bulge pressing into your thigh.
His lips moved to your neck, kissing every last bit of skin he could reach. “This is a bad idea- “
“Why don’t you shut up and enjoy it princess?” Jace cut you off, his hands slipping beneath your shirt. “You enjoyed it the other day,”
You groaned as his fingertips explored your skin before finally sighing, “Fine but it’s just sex,” Jace rolled his eyes at you but didn’t bother to respond as he flipped you onto your back, his hands moving to pull off your shirt.
-
You knew having a enemies with benefits situation ship with Jace would eventually come back to bite you in the ass but the two pink lines staring back at you felt like being plunged into ice water. “You okay Hun?” Sansa called through the door, wondering what had been taking you so long.
You unlocked the door but refused to stand up. Sansa walked in; concern written over her face when her eyes finally spotted the test in your hand. Looking up at her you could only say one thing, “I’m pregnant,”
Part two here
Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons
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