#you could learn a thing or two nonnies

[valeskafics]

"Masks We Wear" - Ghostface!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

a/n: an anon was super sweet about my ghostface au's and requested one for coryo - hope you enjoy this, nonnie! 🩷

Summary: Coryo finally drops the mask he wears around you and shows you what he really is.

Word Count: 3,020

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: DUBCON, murder, stalking, kidnapping, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, knife kink, blood kink, bondage, pain play, overstim, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

The saying goes that behind every man there is a strong woman. Coriolanus Snow knows exactly who that woman is meant to be for him. He once thought that it was going to be Lucy Gray, the sweet little ingénue from District 12 who nearly broke his heart, who nearly destroyed him. But no. Coryo realizes now that she was a placeholder for someone far, far more important: you, his childhood best friend. While the other students at the Academy often mocked him for his family’s fall from grace, you never once did. You were the sweetest little thing, always offering some of your lunch to him because “the cook made too much” or you “weren’t that hungry”. He knew what you were doing. He always knew. But, he knew you were doing it for his benefit, and so he accepted your kindness.

Coryo always thought you were too pure to be tainted by his darkness. That he ought to stay away from you for your own good. That the thoughts that infested his mind about all the things he wanted to do to you needed to remain a fantasy and nothing more. He thought he could enact those with Lucy Gray. That he could close his eyes and imagine it was you lying beneath him. He learned his lesson. There’s only one you. And you’re the one he needs by his side, supporting him as he works his way to the top of the food chain.

You’re the first person he sees after returning from 12. He comes to your home, at nearly three in the morning. You answer the door with a knife in your hand, poking your head out nervously. The knife gives him ideas he’s not sure your sweet, innocent mind would be able to comprehend. You let it clatter to the floor, throwing your arms around him and pulling him into your embrace.

“Oh, Coryo… I thought…”

He moves closer to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his voice a low rumble in his chest, “What did you think?”

“Nevermind,” you shake your head, “I’m just so glad you’re back. I’m so glad.”

Coryo smiles against your neck, a darkness behind his gaze, a possessiveness that you don’t quite pick up on. And you’re the same as you ever were. Blindly trusting him, his fingers running through your hair, his other hand resting on your lower back.

“Did you miss me?”

“Of course I did,” you beam up at him, “You’re my best friend in the whole world, Coryo. I even tried getting a train to 12, but they detained me!”

His expression grows stern, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he reprimands you, “Why would you ever think that’s a good idea, sweetheart? Traveling across districts to see me? You know how dangerous it is out there?”

“I would’ve been fine,” you protest, waving off his concern.

“You wouldn’t have,” Coryo says firmly, moving to cup your face in his hands, “I don’t want you doing anything like that again, alright? You could’ve gotten into real danger. And I wouldn’t have been able to protect you. You understand?”

“Yes, Coryo,” you pause before speaking softly, a sympathetic tone to your voice which he finds ironic in light of your words, “I’m so sorry about Sej. I know you two were like brothers.”

He can’t believe you actually think he cared about Sejanus. Truth be told, he doesn’t care about anyone except himself, you, and maybe his grandmam. He feigns a wistful smile, nodding, allowing you to embrace and comfort him, the feel of your warm, soft body against his enough to make him carry on the charade a bit longer as you promise that you’re here for him, that you’re never going to betray him or leave him. That’s when he notices it, his blood running cold at the sight of it.

The engagement ring on your ring finger.

Coryo pulls away from you, reeling at the realization.

“Coryo? What is it? Are you alright?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, not knowing what to say, his jealousy and anger nearly consuming him. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. How can you be engaged? This is going to ruin everything. All his plans could go up in smoke.

“Who are you engaged to?” His voice is as cold as his gaze when he asks you.

“Oh… Festus,” you tell him, a glumness to your voice that makes him feel somewhat appeased, “It’s an arranged thing. You know how marriages in our families are.”

It takes every ounce of self restraint he has to refrain from ripping that goddamn ring off your pretty little finger as he moves closer to you, “Arranged, huh?”

You nod, “Yeah. After Felix died then you and Sej were sent to 12… My parents got anxious to match me off.”

Coryo inhales sharply. Festus fucking Creed. He never thought he could hate someone more than he hated Billy Taupe, but here he is, his blood boiling at the mere thought of Festus’s fucking hands touching you.

“And you just went with it?”

“I wasn’t really given a choice, Coryo.”

“Do you love him?”

“No,” you shake your head vehemently, “I mean, hopefully I can one day. Grow to love him, I mean. It would be nice to not be in an unhappy marriage, you know?”

Coryo remains quiet, his hands gripping your kitchen counter so tight his knuckles go white. Before you can say another word, he’s storming out of your door, ignoring your confusion as he slams it shut behind him.

He walks the cold, empty streets of the Capitol, only one thought on his mind. How to make you his. How to get rid of the obstacles that stand in the way of him having you. As he gets closer and closer to his family’s old home, he passes by the store where Tigris so often bought items for her designs. There, in the window, is a mask, made of what he assumes to be rubber, with black eyes, a black nose, and a black mouth in a grimace. A twisted smile spreads across his own face as he enters the store.

Oh yes, this disguise will do quite nicely for the task at hand.

It doesn’t take much to memorize your schedule. After all, you’re so predictable. You leave to go to your University classes and you go straight back to your penthouse like the good girl you are. Sometimes, you stop by your parents’ mansion and have tea with them, sometimes you’ll go shopping with Livia. But for the most part? It’s the same basic schedule.

The worst days are the ones where you go with Festus to plan things for the wedding. Your discomfort is obvious whenever Festus leans in to kiss your cheek, wraps his arm around your waist. Coryo is doing you a favor by going through with this plan. It’s so obvious you don’t care about Festus the way you care about him. That Festus could never make you happy the way he could.

He makes his presence known to you after you go for your first dress fitting. A bouquet of white roses left at your front door, stained with blood, and an accompanying note saying how beautiful you look in white. Coryo watches with amusement as you panic and grab your videophone and call him. He ducks into the hallway and answers, feigning concern for you and offering to come right over, holding you in his arms as you cry against his chest, saying how scared you were, how grateful you are that he’s back. How Festus would’ve just made fun of you for being so terrified. And Coryo runs his fingers through your hair, shushing you, assuring you everything will be alright.

The next time, he pushes things even further. He leaves a letter, detailing all the vile things he wants to do to you, how he plans to get rid of Festus and then defile your pretty little body. Coryo is pretty sure he can hear the faintest hint of breathlessness in your voice. You like it. You like what he wrote. You liked him describing how he’s going to make you cry tears of pleasure, screaming his name as he fucks you, as he claims what belongs to him. God, you’re so fucking afraid. He loves it. And the ironic part? You keep running into his arms for comfort. It’s all going according to plan.

Coryo decides that it’s time for you and your secret admirer to meet face to face a few weeks before the wedding. You take a shortcut home on your way from the wedding planner’s office, into an alley that on any other occasion would be safe. But not today. He’s been following you from a distance, making you feel ill at ease. Why is there a man in a mask walking around in broad daylight? But, you chalk it up to the people of the Capitol having odd habits and try to ignore the way it feels like the masked man’s eyes are burning into your body.

When you turn into the alley, he makes his move, grabbing you by the arm and pinning you against the wall. You struggle against him, squirming frantically as you cry out, wanting to know who he is, begging him to let you go. And it excites him. Something about seeing you so vulnerable, tears threatening to spill from those pretty eyes? It’s intoxicating. It’s almost like he gets high off of your fear. He keeps the mask on, keeps his gaze on you. He pulls a knife from his pocket, holding it to your cheek, tracing the contours of your face. Your lower lip wobbles slightly as he runs the tip of the blade along it, smirking beneath his mask.

“Are you scared, sweetheart?”

You can’t quite place it, but that voice, no matter how much the speaker tries to disguise it, is familiar. You know this man. You look up at him, letting out a gasp as he drags the knife along your throat.

“Yes, I’m terrified. Please let me go…”

He shakes his head, a low, menacing chuckle falling from his lips as he leans in closer, grabbing your face with a leather gloved hand, “I think I should keep you here with me. After all, I don’t want you running back to that pathetic little fiance of yours.”

You let out a choked gasp as his hand moves down toward your chest, squeezing your breasts over the fabric of your dress, “I promise, my family has money, I don’t have anything in my purse-”

Coryo lets out another dark laugh, grabbing you by the hair, pulling harshly to make you lean your face up to look at him, to look at his mask, “I’m not here for money, sweetheart. I’m here for you.”

He brings a cloth to your mouth and before you know it?

Your vision goes black.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, white rose petals scattered on the bed and floor around you. When you try to move, you realize your hands are tied to the bedpost, making you panic and tug at it, the headboard knocking against the wall. This seems to alert your captor to you now being awake. He walks in, that same mask on his face, giving you an appreciative onceover. You glance down and see that he’s dressed you in the skimpiest black lingerie you’ve seen in your entire life, complete with a pair of fishnet stockings. You glower at your captor from your spot on the bed as he comes to stand at the foot of it.

“Good, you’re awake.”

“You’re not going to get away with this!” You say indignantly, still tugging at the rope binding you to the bed, “My family, my fiance-”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that last part anymore. He’s been dealt with.”

Your blood runs cold at his words. You watch with horror as he opens the closet door and Festus’s body comes tumbling forward, his throat slit, his face twisted in an expression of pure terror. You scramble backward against the bed.

“Please…”

“Please?” He mocks, pulling his knife from his pocket, tracing your cleavage, down to your stomach, pressing down just hard enough to allow a trickle of blood to spill from your skin, “You still have no idea, do you? This mask… I guess I’ve worn a mask around you my whole life, truth be told. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you. For how long.”

Your jaw drops as he removes the mask, revealing his identity.

“Coryo?”

He smirks, nodding, tossing the mask aside and crawling over you, holding the knife to your neck, “I’ve hid it for so long. How much I’ve wanted you. They say we become the masks we wear, but I never did. I bided my time. And even though I tried to spare you, to take Lucy Gray instead of you, it was always meant to be you.”

“Coryo,” you whimper as he grabs your legs, bringing your ankles to rest against his shoulders, tracing the hilt of his knife against your cunt, smirking at the way you shiver, “This isn’t you…”

“Oh, sweetheart, it very much so is me,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your ankle, staring down at you, “And you’ll learn to love this side of me too.”

You’re helpless to do anything but watch as he kisses along your calf, your thigh, before mouthing at your pussy over the flimsy panties he’s put you in. You clench your fists, gritting your teeth, doing your best not to let any noises escape your lips. And so Coryo? He smirks up at you and renews his efforts, his blade set aside for the moment as he pushes your panties aside and spreads you open, his tongue delving deep inside you. Your head falls back against your pillow, an involuntary moan falling from your lips as he laps at your pussy eagerly, moaning against you, his hips rutting against the mattress. Fuck, he thinks he could cum just from your taste alone as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent, savoring your taste. He fucks you with his tongue over and over and over, letting out the most obscene slurping and sucking noises. And when you spill yourself on his tongue with a cry of his name, he just fucking continues. Your hips squirm away, seeking some reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure, but he chases you with his mouth moving his face from side to side, alternating between broad strokes against your cunt with his tongue and suckling at your swollen clit.

“Coryo…” You gasp as he wrenches another orgasm from you, making no movement to stop, your fishnet clad thighs shaking, ankles dangling over his shoulders as he continues, “Oh God…”

You wish you could grasp at the sheets for some form of purchase, but all you can do is writhe against him, even more violently when he uses the hilt of his knife to fuck you.

“Got to get you ready for my cock, sweetheart,” he coos, his tone equal parts affectionate and mocking, “Such a tight little pussy. I might just tear you apart.”

And you hate that you enjoy it. You hate that every time that blade brushes against your thigh, you grow wetter. That every time Coryo stares at you with those icy blue eyes, nearly blown black with lust, your stomach clenches. You’ve wanted him just as long as he’s wanted you, truth be told. So why not allow yourself to enjoy this?

He undoes his pants, his long, pale, veiny cock dripping pre cum from the tip as he slaps it against your clit repeatedly. You let out a whine of his name as he buries himself inside you. And he’s right. It does almost feel like he’s tearing you apart. Coryo smirks at the outline of his bulge against your stomach, his tongue tracing the cuts he left along your chest as he holds the blade to your throat and begins rutting against you. He tugs harshly at the bra, tossing it across the room, dragging his tongue along one of your nipples, his free hand pressing down on the bulge in your stomach, making you squeal and squirm against him. You’re so helpless and docile in his grasp, like a little kitten. And he can see it in your eyes as you gaze up at him. You want this as badly as he does. He drags the tip of his tongue along your pert nub before mouthing at the other, and finally?

Coryo presses his lips to yours in a ferocious, hungry kiss. One that you reciprocate as best as you are able to with your hands tied. Every thrust of his hips, every movement of his lips, his tongue massaging yours, his hand on your stomach, his knife at your neck. Every sensation is so mind-numbingly perfect that you practically leave your body when you reach your peak, Coryo fucking you through it. He’s determined to get one more out of you, moving his hand that rests on your stomach to pinch and slap at your pearl, his thrusts stuttering as he gets closer and closer.

“Going to fill you up with my cum, sweetheart,” he rasps against your ear, “Going to marry you. Not Festus. Me. Going to see you all pretty and round, carrying my baby. Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart, gonna make me cum, aren’t you?”

You nod wordlessly, lips parted as he spills himself into you, your own peak washing over you soon after. Coryo collapses against you, untying your hands and smirking as you cuddle up against him, his cum still dripping from between your thighs.

“I love you,” Coryo whispers, one of his hands cupping your breast, the other resting against your cheek, “I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo x reader #coryo x you #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow x you #hunger games x reader #hunger games x you #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coryo smut #my writing #coryo oneshot

[marthawrites]

could you write smut for Aemond like prompts 1, 15, 11, 52, 49, 25, 13, and 26? They are all so good 🥹 Reader could be his betrothed (Targaryen would be perfect but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is great) and Aemond didn't want to wait until the wedding

Hello dear nonnie! You requested this back in September - I apologize for making you wait so long for this story. If you're still around I hope it's what you want, and that you enjoy this rendition of Aemond and his (fanon) niece!

Shadows, Beastsong, and Dragonblood

Aemond Targaryen x niece reader

Word count: 7.6k+ (whoops)

About: Growing up you and your uncle Aemond always shared a special kinship. As you grew older, tension between your family and his rose. Moving to Dragonstone led to long years of not seeing each other. When you and your mother visited her father, King Viserys, yours and Aemond's relationship changed. It changed further, years later, upon your final visit to the capitol.

Includes: Fluff, angst, tension, and smut. Featuring incest (uncle x niece), mentions of Aemond's virginity loss at the brothel, mentions of minors sexually experimenting, male receiving oral sex, vaginal fingering, adult reader's virginity loss, and unprotected vaginal sex.

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story follows canon events. HERE is the prompt list used. Reader is technically a Velaryon!Strong bastard who personally identifies as a Targaryen because she looks just like her mother, Rhaenyra. Reader is implied to have pale skin, silver hair, and purple eyes - everything else is entirely up to you. Rhaenys has her canon black hair in this fic. I heavily debated about breaking this into three parts but decided to keep it as a single story. This fic has many firsts for me and it's different than those I've written in the past. It took a lot of effort and I hope you enjoy it!

I.

The years following Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon’s marriage bared fruit after fruit. It wasn't long long after Jacaerys’ birth that Rhaenyra began to show signs of another pregnancy. A woman’s body goes through tremendous changes during, for, and after childbirth, and sometimes her moon cycle can take half a year to return to normal. The princess’ first moon’s blood after his birth hadn’t the chance to appear before the maester’s deemed her pregnant for a second time. 

Another boy, Laenor hoped, to help strengthen the Velaryon line. A healthy babe, Rhaenyra hoped, to love and grow.

Their second child was pinker and paler than Jace upon entering the world. Unlike your brother who had a fine covering of dark hair over his head, yours was so pale it looked akin to winter’s first snow upon your head. A tiny, sweet, healthy baby girl who would grow into the very image of your mother.

And, again, after you came into the world, Rhaenyra showed signs of pregnancy soon after. Laenor got what he hoped for with their third child: another boy, Lucerys, with a splattering of dark hair over his head, too.

Another three years would pass before your little brother, Joffrey, was born. Dark of hair and dark of eyes just like his two older brothers.

As you all grew, none of your brothers showed any signs of Targaryen or Velaryon features. They all had rich brown eyes, dark curly hair, and were quicker to tan than you. Whereas you were a copy of your mother. A true Targaryen beauty: silver hair, pale skin, and eyes the color of amethyst. If Rhaenrya was the Realm’s Delight, then you were the Charm of the Realm. The only thing you lacked as a Targaryen was a dragon. Disappointingly, the egg that was placed in your crib never hatched. The older you grew, and the more you learned of the world, the more you hoped to have a dragon of your very own one day. Rides on Syrax with your mother–thrilling as they were–left you sad. You wanted to be in charge of the reins. You wanted to speak and command a dragon. You wanted the power of your Targaryen ancestors; a conqueror like Queen Visenya or Queen Rhaenys.

You and your brothers grew alongside your uncles, Aegon and Aemond, and your aunt, Helaena, in King’s Landing. As young children you all, for the most part, got along well. You and your uncle Aemond shared one profound thing together: neither of you had a dragon. It was a topic of extreme sensitivity for him. And because of this, sadness, anger, and even embarrassment hung around him from a young age. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t carry those emotions in your heart, too, because you did, but Aemond’s was heavier. Suffocating. 

Shameful. 

When everyone else trained in the dragonpit you and Aemond were known to stay in the library together. You bonded quickly through tales of your shared ancestry, love of philosophy, and the histories. Much to Aemond's annoyance, your penmanship surpassed his own. When you told your mother you wanted to be a scribe when you grew older she laughed. “Princesses aren't scribes. You will do much more wondrous things than live your life by the quill.”

You nodded, ever sweet to your mother, and still practiced your writing. Your septa and parents praised you–and Aemond scowled in your retellings. It made you giggle. It was harmless and the extra attention (however negative it seemed to be) from your uncle who was barely older than you made your heart soar; emotions you couldn’t quite name soared too.

He surpassed you in everything physical. If it happened in the training yard, he had you beat by a league.

You surpassed him in subtlety. At first, you were the one who snuck up on him. You were the one who showed him secret passageways in the Red Keep, as well as hidden nooks and crannies that had surely been forgotten.

It didn’t take Aemond long to exceed your skill, however.

Time went on and life continued. With each passing year the innocence of childhood melted like candlewax. You all stopped playing as often until play happened no longer. When once there were shared sweets, games of tag, and exaggerated stories of ‘grand adventures’ to the stables, now there was gossip. Whispered words, sniggers behind hands, and an air of aloofness that had never been there before took over.

“Why do you and your family treat me and my brothers like this now, uncle?” You asked Aemond with flushed cheeks and eyes filled with unshed tears. Whether it were anger or hurt he could not tell. Your heart couldn't, either.

“They look nothing of their father. Or my sister,” he answered plainly with an edge of something you couldn't quite decipher. 

“And what of our cousin Rhaenys? Hm? The Baratheon blood runs strong in her for she is black of hair. No different than my brothers!”

“‘Tis different,” Aemond answered curtly, still refraining from speaking bluntly to you about what his mother gossiped about.

“It's not!” You proclaimed.

Not long after that confrontation did Laena Velaryon suffer an unfortunate death. Her funeral was memorialized in King's Landing with the closest of her kin. And, as the God's would have it, it was that fateful night Aemond gained a dragon–Vhagar, the largest and oldest in the world–in exchange for his eye.

A small price to pay for the way the young prince would bloom beneath her wings.

Rhaenyra’s family, as well as Alicent’s family, were all summoned by King Viserys to make sense of what happened to Aemond and why it happened. Tension swelled and crackled through the collected room like living storm clouds. You stood quietly behind your mother, purple eyes wide and scared as you surveyed the chaos. Even as all the kids yelled over one another trying to make their side of the story heard, you didn’t utter a peep. How desperately you wanted to ask Aemond himself what happened. How terribly you wanted to hold his hand through the pain of his slashed face being stitched up. How awfully you wanted to kiss him if only to let him know he could still feel something–to see if he could still feel something. 

The King seemed to hold no love for his son as he asked him–ordered him–to tell the truth. You felt your heart breaking as you witnessed father and son hold a stare off that could alight the entire room aflame. Two dragons, one old and one young, challenging each other, daring each other, their teeth seconds away from rending into the other.

The following moments were a blur and you didn’t realize what was happening until Alicent ran to your mother with her husband’s dagger clenched in her hand. You screamed and were pulled away in time to not get pushed or stumbled over. Blood spilled and the tension broke in a devastating clash of emotions. Emotions you, as a child, couldn’t understand, not fully. 

Kings Landing was no longer safe for your family. 

During the following days, before departing for Dragonstone, you were able to sneak to Aemond a handful of times. He didn’t talk much. You never pressured him to. Often, it was only silence and your uncle’s soft sobs that filled the otherwise quietness of his bedchamber. It was at the peak of those times, those heart wrenchingly raw moments, that you would sing to him. Admittedly you were no singer–flat most of the time and awkwardly sharp at others–but neither of you cared. You weren’t even sure if the song you sang was proper in its pacing and pronunciations. It was a song you both deemed secret: learned from the pages of an Old Valyria history book, paced to your own tune, the ancient words were sung with all the wonder of adolescence. 

Vhargar and Aemond’s bond had already been forged by grit, determination, and a kind of stupidity that only young boys held, and it grew by the day. You weren’t sure if Vhagar’s roars were louder while Aemond quietly sobbed into your comforting embrace, or while he was utterly silent. You wondered what brewed beneath the surface during those times. Part of you was afraid of what that silence might gestate. There were many tales of beasts being soothed by music, and so you sang and hoped your ancient song might keep his beast at bay.

“We’re leaving for Dragonstone at first light, uncle,” you said to him a little sadly. You hadn’t ever been away from Aemond. Would the libraries at Dragonstone offer the same respite as the ones here at King's Landing? Would you see hopeful glimpses of him from the corner of your eye only to realize it a play of your imagination?

While he acknowledged your words he didn’t say anything in reply. 

“When do you think we’ll see each other again?” You asked softly, tentatively.

“Likely when we are grown and free to make our own decisions,” he answered, words flat. 

It stung. It hurt. “Then I shall tame one of the wild dragons and fly to visit you.” Aemond’s single eye, that lovely hue so similar and so different to your own, glittered at you for the briefest second. So he can still feel things, you thought to yourself. The corner of his mouth twitched in tandem, and before you could stop yourself you learned forward and pressed the gentlest kiss to the outside of his mouth. You didn’t stay to catch his reaction for you turned on your heel and walked down the secret passage from whence you came; naught more than a whisper of silken skirts.

Such affection would be improper by Gods and men alike if you were born of a different bloodline. The Targaryens were closer to Gods than men, however, and so you did not have to play life by man’s traditions. The blood of the dragon runs thick, and your heart pulled to Aemond. A surge of energy rushed through you and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him properly. But when you turned to look over your shoulder, you only saw darkness. He was already gone.

II.

Dragonstone’s libraries were much different than the big library in the Red Keep. Over the following years, you finally, slowly, began to feel peace akin to what you and Aemond shared. Similar, but not quite.

Rhaenyra married her uncle Daemon and they had given you two more little brothers: Aegon and Viserys. Part of you missed life in King’s Landing with its bright sunshine, lavish gardens, and wide populace. Despite the grimness of Dragonstone, however, this place truly felt like home. An ancient seat of Targaryen glory, the the Targaryen's of old spared nothing while crafting this castle with arcane arts, dragonfire, and sorcery. The fabled magic of it sent your veins thrumming. If it weren’t for Aemond you might not ever want to go back to King’s Landing. Aegon’s garden was your favorite place in all of Dragonstone with its tall dark trees, wild roses, and thorny hedges. You wrote diary entries as well as letters there. You and Aemond wrote back and forth a few times over the years, but just like in childhood when games of chase were played no more, your letters, too, stopped. Still, the garden with its piney scent and tart cranberries remained your place of solace.

A letter from King Viserys arrived some time after you’d turned fifteen. Rhaenyra pulled you aside that same day, away from your brothers, and said, “father’s health is beginning to fail. I'm going to see him. Daemon said he will stay here while I visit on dragonback. Would you like to come with me? I’d love for you to. And I know Syrax would too,” she smiled hopefully, giving your forearm a gentle squeeze in annunciation.

You blinked, slightly taken back, before beaming a bright smile. “Of course, mother! I miss my grandfather and would love to see him.”

“I’ll send a raven. Perhaps he will have a belated nameday gift for you,” your mother answered with one of her playful expressions. 

A return letter was indeed sent and over the next few days Rhaenyra and Daemon made plans for the upcoming week. It wouldn’t be a long stay but that didn’t stop excitement from crawling up your spine and settling in your belly. How would uncle Aemond be? It’d been so long since you two had seen each other! It'd even been a long time since you wrote to one another. Would he remember you as you remembered him? Would he even care to see you?

You donned your warmest wool and most comfortable leathers for the flight to King’s Landing. Gray clouds broke to open blue sky and the brisk salty air had you feeling like you were in charge of the flight. Syrax knew the way well and flew right where she knew to–the dragonpit.

There wasn’t a grand welcome for your arrival and yet somehow it felt more comfortable than being paraded around for hours on end and being forced to entertain a grandiose feast. Viserys–he did look ailing, much more than you last remembered–and Alicent welcomed Rhaenyra and yourself. Ser Criston Cole and Aemond stood with them.

He did want to see you!

“Father! I’m sorry we haven’t been back sooner. Daemon and I–”

Excited hugs were exchanged between the three of you, and the conversation droned out as pressure built behind your ears; dull ringing taking over as anxiety, excitement, and something else unnamed thrilled along your spine. Aemond, only a short time older than you, was no longer the boy you remembered. He’d grown tall and sharp. Any softness of childhood melted away during the last few years. Placed over his damaged left eye was a simple black leather eyepatch. It stood out starkly against his pale complexion–though, it matched the rest of his black leather attire. His slash healed well, you thought privately, but a gnarly scar remained. It looked painful.

Aemond peered at you looking at him; keen. Something simmered beneath his eye and you were reminded of singing to him all those years ago–how you’d hoped to soothe any beast that might be growing in the shadows. The corners of his bowed mouth quirked.

“Darling?” Your mother asked, her voice finally making sense in your head as she turned to regard you closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

With a quick flutter of blinks you looked up to her. “Sorry. Yes, I’m feeling alright. A bit tired from the flight is all. May I have a snack before supper?”

“Of course,” she replied with a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

Alicent smiled. You always thought her pretty. A part of you wondered how none of her children shared her brown eyes or auburn hair. “Check with the kitchen. I’m sure there’s breads and cheeses available at the very least. Wine, too, I imagine.” She looked between you and Aemond before adding, “let Aemond take you. He’s been quite excited to see you since Rhaenyra’s letter.”

“Uncle,” you breathed, surprised by your lack of breath upon saying his name. “I daresay I barely recognize you.”

“I could say the same, niece. It's been many years,” he said with an inclination of his head. “You are looking a little faint. Let’s find you some food, hm?” He asked. 

At first, conversation proved to be sparse. Before, things had always been so easy with Aemond and silence had always been comfortable. Now, it didn’t feel easy nor did the silence feel comfortable. Anytime you looked up at him, or over to him, he was already looking at you. His attention barely seemed to wander elsewhere. You ate until you felt better while Aemond pretended to eat. Slowly, with effort on your part, conversation picked up. Before too long the air of awkwardness lifted and your shoulders relaxed.

Aemond seemed to notice, too.

Three days followed and each proved to be more eventful than the last. You’d met up with your aunt and uncle, Helaena and Aegon, and happily–even if Aegon's jests were more perverse than you ever remembered–caught up with them. They were married now. Though, you saw no sort of physical or emotional connection between them. You liked Helaena; you wondered, privately, if life was treating her well, and if she found any enjoyment within it. The faraway look in her eyes suggested not, but you remembered her always being a peculiar child. She didn’t always have both feet in this world, you realized, and you didn’t feel any sort of jealousy for her otherworldly gift. Did dreamers fall into a silent abyss while slumbering? Or did they even dream when they slept, resulting in a never ending barrage of sight and madness?

On the fourth day Aemond introduced you to Vhagar. Sympathy–or perhaps pity–shone in his eye when you told him you still hadn’t bonded with a dragon. “And here I remember you saying you would tame a wild dragon so you might fly across the sea to visit me?” He proclaimed with an arch of brow, snark and jest in equal measurements.

“It’s not quite so easy. I enjoy my skin and my hair. I have heard many tales of brave men trying to bond with those dragons only to end up as a pile of ash. Or forever scarred. Or–” you lowered your voice and tipped closer to him, adding with a whisper, “–lacking of limbs.” You tilted your chin, purple eyes glittering with playfulness; teasing, testing.

“Hm,” he stifled a laugh with a press of his lips. “Both of those are a marvel. It would very much be a shame to scathe the beauty of Old Valyria.”

Your heart jumped and you blushed. Surely he was only being kind, right?

He flew you on Vhargar until the spilled watercolors of sunset mottled into gray. Upon returning to the Red Keep, tucked away in one of your secret childhood places, Aemond dared to kiss your lips. Stunned and exhilarated alike, you returned the affection with fervor. He wasn’t your first kiss, but the things that sparked and webbed through your body were much more intense than any before. “Aemond…,” you whispered against his mouth. “We shouldn’t be doing this, uncle.”

“You can stop any time,” he rasped in reply, eye dark.

In a shuddered breath you admitted, “I don’t want to.”

“Me either.”

You kissed until voices and footsteps filled the nearby corridor. Hiding your giggles behind a hand, you slunk away in direction to your chamber leaving Aemond behind. You turned to see where he might be going. Already he’d turned on his heel and strode in the opposite way. He didn’t follow. That night–with a thundering pulse– you dreamt of wild roses, flying, and your hands on your uncle’s chest while he kissed your neck.

The following day was yours and your mother’s last day in the capitol. She intended to leave after lunch, and until then she let you do as you please. Requesting, of course, to be back in time to leave on time. With how much you missed the rest of your family you could only imagine how much she missed them!

“Come to Dragonstone with us. I don’t want to leave you so soon. I can show you all my favorite places at home. At the ancient seat of our family,” you added the last bit with bright eyes in hopes of seducing him away with you.

“My place is not there,” replied Aemond. “I am to stay here with my mother and siblings. ‘Tis my duty as second son.”

You knew, as second son, that Aemond would have to carve his own path with fire, blood, and teeth–heavy emphasis on the latter, most likely.

“Daemon can train you. Our castle yard has an impressive training pit. It’s different from the one here. Everything is different there. There’s some nights when the magic in the walls makes my blood sing. There is no magic like that left here,” you tried to coax him further, stepping close so you had to look up at him with soft eyes. Eager eyes.

Instead of accepting or denying your request he leaned down and kissed you like he did yesterday. And just like yesterday you warmly accepted the affection. The blood of the dragon runs thick, and dragonblood runs hot. Despite your relation, and despite yourself, you found yourself wanting. Needing. He was too. You could tell by the tightness of his pants. Two young dragons hidden away amongst sparse candlelight in a secret passage perhaps only Maegor the Cruel knew of. “I’ve always wanted to try something. Will… will you let me?”

He pulled back to peer at you curiously. “What is it?”

Slowly, running on an instinct that any wanton young woman harbored, you sank down onto your knees before him. “You can tell me to stop at any time. Okay?”

Aemond wasn’t an idiot. He nearly spent in his pants at the very sight of you lowering like that. Aegon had taken him to a brothel on the Street of Silk for his thirteenth nameday, and he lost the last innocence of boyhood within those perfumed walls; a secret not many knew. And, perhaps less knew how much he despised it–how it disgusted him. The thought still made his stomach turn.

But you? His beautiful, perfect niece, with your epitome of Targaryen beauty?

He never asked you to stop as you sated your curiosity. The rush of sensation that blazed through his body was more intense than anything he’d yet experienced. At the peak of his pleasure he swore he blacked out.

He returned the gift as best as he could with his fingers. 

You barely made it back in time to your mother to fly back home. You sincerely hoped she didn’t ask any questions about where you were or why you were running late.

III.

As the Gods would have it, it would be another few years before Rhaenyra and her family were summoned to King’s Landing for, perhaps, an even more dire situation than the first: the legitimacy of Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark and its throne. It was a matter already settled many years ago by none other than King Viserys. Yet, still, conflict stirred with Vaemond Velaryon and his proclamation.

A never ending political headache for the King who’s health was in such despair it was a miracle he lived to see each new morning.

Similar to when you and your mother arrived three years prior, there wasn’t a grand welcome awaiting your family. In fact there was… nothing. Tension sparked to new heights and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into yourself and disappear. While not entirely disappearing, you and your brothers made way to the private guest bedchambers; Rhaenyra made sure to have rooms arranged for all of you prior to arriving. Before leaving, she told all of you that she would summon you later once things were settled. Or supper. Whichever came first.

Truthfully you had no plans to eat with everyone. Uncaring of any potential consequence it might bring you loosened your hair, stripped down to your shift, and plopped in bed so heavily that a plume of dust rose from the sheets. If you were less exhausted–mentally and physically–you’d be repulsed by the dust. Right now? You cared little.

Slumber washed over you like the waves you were so used to at home.

You didn’t wake until hours later when a servant rapped over and over upon your door. “My lady? Hello?” 

Coughing and turning to face the doorway, you asked, “what is it?”

A young girl stepped inside and bowed. “Your mother has summoned you for dinner.”

“Bring me a plate, please. I have no wish to eat with a crowd tonight.”

She twisted her hands a few times as if in disapproval but said nothing. Instead, she simply nodded, bowed again, and left with a click of the door.

That night you ate alone and silently hoped Aemond would come find you. Surely he knew ways around the Keep that would lead him to you... But, he never did. After eating your fill you slept like the dead.

Sunrise gently woke you and gradually you began to prepare for the day. Once ready to get dressed, you were confused to see your dress on the floor instead of on the back of the chair you hung it over last night. Strange… you thought to yourself, scanning around the room for what might have caused it. A section of curtain fluttered with morning breeze and when you walked to inspect it you realized the window had been partially cracked. You laughed a short sound and rolled your eyes–how silly to be paranoid about the breeze. You couldn’t remember any strong gusts last night, but you did sleep very hard.

Fully around, now, you made your way to find breakfast. Eventually you did and broke fast with your brothers. For a few moments it felt like you were all children again. Talking, laughing, stealing bits of food off each other’s plates, it felt… good. Homey. Lighthearted in a way only they could make you feel. Once finished, they departed for the training yard and you went to explore the gardens. There might not be any wild roses here and the hedges might be considerably less thorny than those at Dragonstone, but that didn’t stop you from missing it. 

Flowers, shrubs, and trees were in full beautiful display and their fragrances sent you right back to childhood. You lost track of how long you wandered. At least a full hour, surely. Likely more. It wasn’t until you heard your name spoken behind you that you snapped back to reality. Turning to look over your shoulder, you stuttered, excited and surprised, “Aemond!”

He stood taller and sharper than he did three years ago. He was a man grown, now, just like you were a woman grown. Gone were any traces of awkward lankiness. He was slim, yes, but judging by the width of his shoulders he had a strong back and arms. “Niece,” he replied. “Your brothers graced my training session earlier. As did Vaemond Velaryon and his entourage,” he paused to inspect a bit of dirt on his sleeve before folding his arms behind his back. “I thought perhaps your strong brothers might grow into their Velaryon features as they aged. But, alas, they haven’t.”

Prick.

Was he really going right for your throat? Immediately?

“Do you have so little faith in your sister’s lineage” You asked, hands folding behind your back, mirroring him, as you slowly closed the distance between yourselves with deliberate steps. “Myself and all my brothers were grown in the belly of a dragon. Birthed into this world by a dragon. Tell me, uncle, how is that any different than being seeded by a dragon?”

“It is not my sister’s lineage I lack faith in, dear niece, it’s the roots she climbs.”

Fury heated your face and for a moment you considered punching him in his stupid, sharp, beautiful nose. Or perhaps kneeing him in the root he no doubt made reference to. In the span of three heartbeats you settled for neither and instead gave him a disappointing quirk of mouth. “And here I was upset that you didn’t come to say hi to me last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I saw you plenty last night.” he said, tone making it seem like everyone watched you sup together even though you ate alone.

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Did you come find me to be rude, or was there another reason you graced my company?”

“We recently received a collection of books from Myr. Would you like to look at them with me?” Hopefulness briefly lit his features. Idly, you wondered what his deal was. He was an outright asshole only a moment ago, and now he offered to read with you like you did so often as children? The library always had been a place of solace for both of you. Mayhaps he was simply nervous today, on edge, and let the ugliness of anxiety guide his tongue. It would be quiet in the library–the perfect place to, perhaps, connect once again as adults.

You continued to look up at him, attempting to read his features, before replying, “sure. Only if we can have tea and scones too.”

It was his turn to squint at you suspiciously.

That made you laugh; tension began to ease around both of you. “I won’t get crumbs on the pages. Promise!”

And so, walking shoulder to shoulder, you both made way to the library. Tea and scones arrived shortly afterward. As soon as you began reading from different tomes conversation began to flow more freely. Nerves might be flying wild everywhere else in the Red Keep, but here? Safely within these walls? You relaxed. Aemond relaxed. There were no more subtle jabs at bastardry, nor Driftmark, nor anything else. Every now and then you’d laugh and Aemond would smile. Other times it was perfectly silent. When you thought him engrossed by something he read, you eyed him carefully through your peripheral vision–and sometimes with your full vision–trying to keep rising sensations at bay. Despite his sharp tongue and rude quips, he was horribly handsome. You thought he was the last time you were here, too, and now those same feelings intensified to new heights. You caught him doing the same to you. Though, he didn’t coyly turn away when caught. Tension of a different sort heated the air around both of you. 

Hot-blooded. 

Dragonblood.

You ate supper with your mother that night. She and Daemon discussed things from earlier in the day but you paid it little mind–yours was still on Aemond. 

After supper you had a quiet night in your bedchamber. You requested a bath, and it didn’t take the servants long to prepare it for you. Soaking in the hot water was exactly what you needed–complete with your favorite oils generously added to the water until sweet florals and subtly spicy scents lingered around you. By the time you were done your fingers and toes were wrinkly and the water was tepid at best. Sitting in front of the vanity, you dried and braided your silver hair for bed. The day’s events–Aemond–proved to be mentally exhausting. Conflicting emotions warred in your mind as you laid in bed and started up at the neat lace underlay of the four poster bed’s silken drapes.

A noise at your door startled you from whatever daydream danced in your head. How was it opening? You triple checked the lock! Who was coming inside? Frozen and wide eyed, you couldn’t move from your spot upon the bed as someone silently intruded. As the figure stepped out of the shadowy frame you took note of their height, body shape, and silver hair… “Aemond!?” You asked shrilly. “Seven Hells what on earth are you doing?”

“Coming to pay a proper visit to my little niece, of course,” he answered with quiet amusement. Standing at the side of your bed, now, he tilted his head and continued, “I requested a specific guard for this duty tonight so I could slip past him.”

You looked up at him as he looked down at you, regarding you closely. Something shone behind his eye and you couldn’t quite put a finger on it. A rush of emotion rose and settled in the pit of your belly as Aemond gently dragged his thumb across your lower lip. Down the curve of your chin. You swallowed thickly. “You could have just as easily knocked like any regular person would, uncle,” you said.

“What's the fun in that?”

Silence followed as you both took each other in, that unknown expression behind his eye becoming more clear. Lust. 

Did your own gaze mirror it too? The sound of your blood filled your ears.

“Do you remember the last time you were here? When we were in that passageway all alone?” He asked, tracing the backs of his fingers along your pretty face. 

Of course you did. You smiled–coy–and tipped your head into his touch. “Quite well.”

A soft satisfied hum accented the curve of his mouth. “Good.” His fingers pressed against the underside of your chin as he tilted your face up to him, embers sparking through the eye contact. “I've searched for that type of release again and again and have yet to find it,” he said; desperation and intensity so evident you knew he meant it.

Shivers took over your entire body and your spine arched forward, curving as if to seek the sensation of his body against yours. “You have?” You asked between parted lips. 

“I have.”

A hot rush of excitement overcame you and before you knew it both of your hands pulled on the buckles of his tunic, pulling him down to you. You kissed him fiercely and he returned it with ferocity. There wasn't anything tentative about it; lips, tongue, teeth, all meshing until you whimpered into his mouth.

Aemond pushed you back on the bed and fell atop you, one arm holding him up for support, as his silken hair draped along his face. He was so warm, and felt so good over you, that you moaned into his kiss again; he swallowed it whole.

You whined, voice raspy and sweet alike, as you tugged on the front of his belt, “again. I want to do it again,”

“Look at you, so needy for my cock,” he rumbled against your neck, kissing and nipping along the sensitive flesh. He grinned warmly into the crook there and you giggled.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows you turned your body so you could push him onto his back. The startle of his angular lovely face was more than enough reward. With the new position you could feel how hard he was inside his pants, and you wondered if he could feel your heat through the thin material of your smallclothes. You slid down the front of his body until you knelt delicately on the floor. Looking up at him as innocently as you could, your hands ran up the lean length of his thighs while you nestled between them. “You left my window open last night,” you whispered at him as your fingers began to unlace the front of his bottoms.

A low, restrained sound came from Aemond at the combination of your touch and words. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied with cool indifference, supporting himself partially up with his elbows so he could watch you.

A knowing smile spread on your pretty lips as you answered, “you're a bad liar, uncle.” Kissing the flat plane of his abdomen, you tugged the front of his pants down until he was fully freed; hard, solid, and already blazing with heat. You moved those same kisses lower–placing them all around the base of his need until your nose tickled with his scent. His length twitched, the velvety smoothness of him bumping your face.

Above you, he hissed an inward breath, head tilting to the side. “Go on then, this cock isn't going to suck itself now is it?” He crooned, doing his best to appear in control even though his heart thumped wildly with anticipation and the clawing ache to be inside of you–any part of you–had him going mad.

If the slick between your thighs wasn't already unbearable you'd have retorted his taunt. But, you wanted this nearly as much as him. Lifting one of your hands you gripped around his length, pumping slowly, as you rolled your tongue beneath his tip; tasting him, teasing him, coating that part of him with saliva so you could more easily take him into your mouth.

Aemond could have lost it there–would have lost it if he hadn't already fucked his hand to release prior to visiting you. “Did I tell you you could use your hands?” His eye glittered like dragonglass.

Without having to be told again you released your grip and instead held onto the tops of his thighs with both hands, the wholeness of your expression feline. You licked up each side of his cock, circling your tongue around his head, again and again, coating him to your satisfaction. And then, just when you saw Aemond's hips twitch and flex beneath you, you took him into the fullness of your mouth and consumed him.

He groaned, head tipping back. Countless times had he tried to recreate the pleasure you gave him first; no woman ever made him feel the same way and he hated them for it. 

You bobbed, and sucked, and savored the hot solid length of him in your mouth. You dragged and worked your tongue against him, too, lost in the heady sensations of him. The quiet sounds he made coaxed you further and soon you became uncaring of the slobbery mess you were leaving on him. Relaxing your throat, you swallowed as much of his cock as you could. When you gagged at the intrusion you pulled your head up, only to do it again. And again. You moaned around him; wanton.

It was too much for Aemond. Somehow he grew even hotter, even harder, and soon one of his hands pushed your head down while his hips bucked up into your mouth. He panted. Peak was so close. Looking down at you, then, he saw how dazed and desperate you were as he fucked your mouth. The knot of pleasure at the base of his spine exploded and he groaned, guttural, as his balls tightened and cock released down your throat.

You about peaked with him. Breathing through your nose you did your best to take all of him, the hot pulses of his length making you clench around nothing. 

“Swallow. All of it,” Aemond said down at you, slowly easing the pressure of his hand on your head.

Panting, you did. You showed him your empty mouth with pride. “Dragonseed is never to be wasted, uncle.”

If Aemond had anything intelligible to say it didn’t leave his mouth properly. Both his hands gripped around your upper arms and he yanked you up, maneuvering you atop the bed once more. Reaching to the open belt around his waist he unsheathed his dagger with a whisper of leather and steel. It glinted orange in the chamber’s lowlight. “My sweet, lecherous niece…,” he said darkly, sweetly, pinning you down to the bed as he loomed above you. “I know how to make you a true Targaryen, bastard,” he hissed the last word into the shell of your ear and reveled in the way he saw your throat tighten in defiance.

You tensed beneath him and he laughed.

“My favorite bastard,” he crooned, trailing his dagger up the front of your body. “I will make you my wife.”

Goosebumps pebbled your skin as he teased you, taunted you, thrilled you with the edge of his blade. He never drew blood. It only grazed your shift. “I already am a Targaryen,” you proclaimed, voice strong despite its softness.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight and you will let me. Mother will have us wed by the turn of the new moon.” He tilted his dagger just slight, just enough, and the delicate material of your shift stood no chance against it. He sliced it open to reveal the fullness of your lovely body; your shape, your form, your clean floral scent… all of it made his mind feral. “Marry me, niece.”

A hundred–no, a thousand–things ran through your mind all at once. You saw and felt him already fully hard once again, and the hot press of his cock against your flushed skin had you losing sanity. “I will,” you breathed, nodding. “I will marry you.” 

Aemond tossed his dagger away to instead pull your smallclothes down your legs. “My darling betrothed,” he growled, shouldering off his tunic and undershirt as you lay completely bare beneath him. He didn’t even bother kicking his pants off the rest of the way before he moved between your spread thighs. “Let us promise our union now before any Gods that are watching.”

It was wrong. You knew it. And yet… Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and between your thighs. Madness. Surely this was madness. “We can’t,” you protested weakly.

He laughed another dark sound. “Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. We don’t follow the same rules as everyone else.” One of his hands moved over your breasts, sliding and squeezing over them with reverent affection. His other lowered between your legs and the tips of his fingers brushed over your budded pearl. He nearly snarled at the wetness he met there. He circled that bud. Slid over it. He worked your bundle of nerves, watching you all the while.

“A-Aemond!” You gasped, stuttering. Your nipples pebbled firmer as tension built in your belly, tightening in a way that only you were able to make happen. You needn’t any more convincing to give him your maidenhead. So wrong. But, with Aemond? So, so right. Your thighs spilled open wider for him; inviting him.

The rasp of his thighs pressed against the smooth undersides of your own and slowly, carefully, he lined himself up with your dripping entrance and began to press forward. 

Your body yielded and the fullness of him was a sensation unlike anything you’d experienced before. His heat seared into you as he sunk, cautiously, through your opening and past your body’s unmarred barrier. It pinched and you winced, blushed face staring up at him with doe eyes. 

Full. 

You were so full. 

You whimpered a little sound as Aemond’s jaw clenched and a groan rumbled deep in his chest. “You’re doing so well,” he mumbled, the intensity of his eye making you dizzy.

Finally, he was seated all the way inside you. With a heaving chest he held the position for a long moment, knowing you needed the time to adjust just as much as he did. He pulled back and eased back in, testing you. Testing himself. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last long. You were absolutely fucking perfect around him. You breathed his name again, gripping onto any part of his body that you could. 

Aemond’s movements became a little more sure with each moment. It didn’t take much longer until he was taking you fully. The softness of your breasts rocked with the motion of his thrusts, your face loosening as pleasure began to take over any pain there might have been. His greedy eye raked down the front of your body so he could watch where you were joined. Each time he pulled out his cock glistened with your slick, and each plunge sent you gasping at the pressure. Never had he seen anything that made his cock, and gut, and chest ache with such need. “You look so pretty with my cock inside you,” he said lowly, barely able to make words.

“Feels good, Aem,” you simpered in reply.

His mouth crashed to yours in a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth so your tongues slid against one another. The soft sound of skin slapping on skin began to grow louder as both of you worked into and against each other’s thrusts. “I’m going to mark that pretty little neck so that everyone knows your mine,” he rasped against your skin as he kissed over your chin, your jaw, until he reached your neck. He nipped there, biting harshly, kissing over each bite mark to soothe any lingering sting. He did it over and over, sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth until he knew he’d leave a mark behind.

You trembled beneath him, squirming with pleasure, as he fucked into you at an angle and pace that had you soaring. The balance of pain and pleasure was more than anything you’d felt before and you were wholly at its mercy. You scratched his skin as you squeezed your fingers against his lean muscle, marking him as he marked you. “‘S too much,” you whined, breathless.

He only continued. Panting, he said, “I want to hear you scream my name when you come. Understood?”

You nodded, desperate. “Yes, yes yes yes..!” 

His pace grew sloppy, frenzied, as his own high threatened to push him over the edge any second. “Give it to me,” he moaned, pleaded. “Come with me.” One of his hands squeezed over your breast again, pinching and tugging the nipple, while the fingers of the other worked your clit. 

“Aemond!” You gasped thinly, covering your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that no doubt released with the intensity of your peak. Aemond’s mouth replaced your hand as climax took him, too, cock twitching as spurt after spurt of his seed filled the deepest parts of your body. You both rode it out together, senses buzzing and fuzzy, while the wonderful post-climax bliss sensations intoxicated you more than any wine. 

He carefully slid out from your body and nearly grew fucking hard again as he saw the evidence of your maidenhood upon your clean bedsheets. 

“You will be the loveliest bride,” he said, relishing the sight of you glowing from pleasure.

Pulling the top quilts back, you beckoned him in, asking, “stay awhile longer?”

He did.

You laid together, limp and blissful, and for the first time in over three years Aemond found himself fully sated.

-

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[qdbs-writes]

Hi can i get the cullens with a clingy female vampire mate

Pls i love u and ur work

aw thank you, nonny i love you too!

Cullen Clan with a clingy, female mate!Reader

Carlisle

He'll get you a job as his assistant in the hospital so you can spend more time with him

He knows vampires can't get sick but he's pretty sure you have anxiety

Once you're comfortable with being able to resist human blood in a medical environment, Carlisle will put you on the maternity unit, Forks could always use more midwives

Esme

You're clingy? That's fantastic, so now you can do everything together!

Esme spends most of her time doing charity work, like making cookies for a bake sale, so you can help her with that

You two have the cutest annual lesbian vow renewal ceremonies in the woods outside of casa Cullen, seriously they're so sweet!

Edward

You're gonna be clingy together but in a Romeo and Juliet level of clingy

Edward likes to be 'edgy clingy', so don't be surprised if he makes things more complicated than they need to be

He does love that almost all your thoughts are about how much you love him and want to be with him, he thinks its cute

Rosalie

In some way or another, I think Rosalie has always been scared of being alone so your clinginess is quite appealing

The fact that you're mates also helps confirm a lot of concerns that she had about immortality

But you can never get hurt or be uncomfortable, she will lose her shit if literally anything happens to you

Emmett

Would probably be the most stressful Cullen to be with if you're clingy, Emmett is just all over the place all the time

My boy regularly just forgoes all passenger safety laws in public, and yeah, he's an indestructible vampire, but that's not really the point

Despite how much time you spend together, he'll always find some way of screwing about whenever you take your eyes off him, like where did he get that bag of eggs?

Alice

Genuinely, she would've sought you out herself, like "Hi, my name is Alice, we've never met but we're destined to be immortal life partners!"

She knows that you're clingy and she doesn't care

She will warn you if she has a vision where you have to be apart for whatever reason so it doesn't come as a nasty shock

Jasper

Now, Jasper is probably the most nervous about you being clingy

Not that he doesn't like you being clingy, but he's worried that you might fall out of love with him when you learn how quiet and withdrawn he can be

In a way, he sort of likes that you depend on him for almost everything, it helps reinstate his antiquated concept of masculinity

#twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight headcanons #twilight renessaince #twilight reader insert #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #esme cullen #esme cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #rosalie hale #rosalie hale x reader #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #alice cullen #alice cullen x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #qdbs-writing

[riaki]

haii >:3 i was wondering of you could write a thing on if reader was a classmatw of gojo when they were in jujutsu tech? ur hsbullt gojo was really well written 💗

sorry if i sound rude, im not familiar with how tumblr works ;(

hey there!! thank u sm for ur ask nonnie ! hope this is good... and don’t worry!!!! ur perfectly fine my love 🤍

classmates | satoru gojo x reader cw: calls u princess, swearing

1:34PM. 5/21/06 - JUJUTSU TECH GYM - more than friends, less than lovers

"fucking hell, satoru!" you rub your head slowly, gritting your teeth as pain hammers the side of your skull; feels like a bruise is going to form, and you’re pretty sure you have basketball line marks on your face.

satoru jogs over to you, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the gym floor. there's that pesky grin on his lips again, and his eyes shine, a vibrant glow of youth. he’s not apologetic at all, you think with gritted teeth. he slows to a stop a few yards away from you, a panting, sweaty mess, yet you find yourself irritably drawn to him either way. he shoots you a quick wink, fanning himself with his shirt in a way that lets the dip of his hip expose itself to the musty air of the gym. a droplet of sweat slides down his skin, and your face burns.

"yo! pass me that ball, [name]." he waves an eager hand towards you, and you roll your eyes, tossing the basketball in his direction. it lands square on his chest with a thump, eliciting a little ‘oof’ from his lips and pressing the cotton of his shirt against his damp skin. and it sticks, defining his muscles in patches of wet cloth. the summer heat must really be getting to you, because the sound of his voice has your thoughts running far, far away from you.

you’re yanked back into reality when a little huff escapes his glossy lips, wiping his forehead and messing up his soft white hair, stray strands clinging together over his eyes. shoko made away with his sunglasses, which means you’ve got a front seat view of those gorgeous, yet equally uncanny irises. "hey, you've got a solid throw. you should give it a shot, yeah? why not join me 'n suguru for a round—"

“hell no.”

he just laughs at that, haughty and everything you should really learn to hate as he turns on his heel and heads back toward the center of the court, where suguru is waiting with an irked expression on his face.

“suit yourself, princess.” he tosses a wave in your direction of his shoulder, and you raise a hand to your chest, feeling your heart slam against your ribcage.

9:02AM. 11/06/07 - JUJUTSU TECH CLASSROOM - best friends

“so.”

gojo glances at you, as if surprised you broke the silence. you can see your own reflection in the lens of his shades, hiding his gaze from the world. sunlight filters in through the windows; it’s early, a break between classes. it shouldn’t be stuffy in the classroom with the windows open, but it still feels suffocating.

you stare at him, and he stares back from his seat atop your desk. his lips are curved down in that usual unamused look he’s always sporting, but there seems to be weight in his shoulders; a ghost tugging his muscles down, stiffening the muscles in his neck to the point where you wish you could just offer him a massage. but you’re not sure if he’d let you get close enough to ever do that.

“what?” he snaps, glaring at you as he sticks his bottom lip out. at least, you think he’s glaring— it’s been harder to tell lately, what’s on his mind. not that you were ever able to read him easily before, though. he likes to hide.

you kick the leg of the desk he’s sitting on with a foot, sighing and humming to yourself for a moment or two. you don’t see it, but gojo’s expression softens slightly and he looks back up at the ceiling again, callused fingers curling around the edge of the desk. the pale color of his skin makes the veins on his hands more prominent; a subtle, muted blue that makes you want to run a hand over his arm.

the two of you had stopped by a store that morning. you’d bought a cup of coffee and two onigiri for yourselves, but it seems like he’s already finished his. you know right now is the prime time for his appetite to flare up— with adolescence and all, but he doesn’t seem to be eating much. or at least, not from what you can tell.

“here, have this.”

gojo glances down at you once more, letting himself observe you with his full vision; not one that’s always hidden behind a layer of thick black stained glass, meant to absorb the pain and the headaches for him. you, who’s so gentle and soft with him— surely you wouldn’t cause him any sort of aching, if not for the one inside the cavity of his chest. it takes him a moment to realize you’re holding out something to him— your onigiri, half eaten. there’s a shriveled little plum showing, burrowed between the layers of sticky rice and dry seaweed wrappings.

he’s uncharacteristically silent as he grabs it from you, the crinkle of the plastic wrapping the only noise in the world as he stares at it for a moment before starting to eat. his cheek puffs when he starts chewing; the bob of his adam’s apple in his throat when he swallows makes it hard for you to stifle a smile. even with the weight of all he’s carrying, gojo still manages to look like a child every now and then. you can’t help but think he’s grown up too fast.

you let a moment of silence pass, stealing a long glance at him as he busies himself with his half of the rice ball, wolfing it down.

“i know i cant offer much to you, satoru…” you started quietly; tenderly, if he listened closely. the way you say his name makes his throat constrict in a way he’s not familiar with.

“…but if you ever need something— anything— i’ll be here. plus, i never finish my onigiri anyway. so you can have the half i don’t eat,” you laughed, closing your eyes and listening to the morning breeze outside. gojo takes the opportunity to observe you; the soft curve of your cheeks, the way your lashes curl, the soft fade of your full lips at the edges and the hair that frames your face.

you can feel his eyes on you, but you let him get away with it. it feels like an infinite eternity goes by before his voice finally cuts through the thick air.

“…have you been resting? the bags under your eyes are darker than usual.” he pokes at you, shifting again, but you seem to revel in the comfortable familiarity of his banter; something that makes his heart ache in a way only you elicit from him. the way you pull at his heart strings is so natural and easy that it’s unnatural to ignore.

“probably more than you have,” you teased. gojo sniffles, and you chalk it up to the seasonal illnesses.

2:46AM. 12/07/08 - JUJUTSU TECH DORMS - ?

it’s half past two in the morning when you get gojo’s text. or, more accurately, the one you forced him to send when he returned from his mission.

m done. u can come pver

he looks a little too much like a zombie when you knock on the door of his dorm and it swings open for you, revealing him in all his tired glory. the bags under his eyes are redder and darker than usual, and his hair is tussled and messy. it’s obvious he hasn’t bothered to clean himself up. his white tee is stained with something damp; his tears, but you don’t dwell on it. there’s a bandaid on the bottom of his jaw; you can see a hint of angry red scrapes peeking out from beneath the beige material.

“you look like shit.”

“are you gonna come in or not?”

you oblige and step inside, the plastic bag in your hand rustling with each movement. it’s a bit loud, and you just pray you don’t get caught sneaking into gojo’s room this late at night. at least you know which boards creak.

he closes the door behind you, crossing his arms over his chest and observing you. you look the same as you always do, but the way your hair falls over your face makes him want to brush it back, like some unresolved impulse. he doesn’t do anything about it; hanging around you for so long has taught him how to keep himself in control. for as long as he can manage, anyway.

he speaks up first, voice hoarse and low with lack of use. “what’s in the bag?” he makes it sound like it’s something illegal. and at this point, you’re not sure if the feeling that pushes you to do things for him should be considered so, because sometimes it feels like it.

“a birthday cake. or— it’s a fruit tart i stayed up to make.” you said, placing the bag on his cluttered desk, pushing away photo frames and bloody tissues and pencils shaven down to eraser stubs to make room for the box. satoru meanders over to you, peering over your shoulder with one hand on the desk to support himself. you can feel his breath on your neck, hot even in the darkness. it makes your hands clammy.

moonlight spills in from the windows next to his bed, but it’s not enough, so you turn on the lamp and open the box. the tart’s been through quite a bit— jostled in transport, marred in the making— but the sweet smell of fruit and cream makes his mouth water nonetheless.

“wow, that’s nice of you. weirdly so, actually. are you really [name]?” you can hear the grin in satoru’s voice, and you know he can hear the exasperation in your voice when you reply, using the plastic utensils you packed to cut a slice for him. the red strawberry juice stains the cream as your knife slices through, a rivulet of vermillion.

“shut up and be grateful. you get the slice with kiwi and the rotten blueberries just for that,” you huff, indignantly in a way that reminds satoru of a rather petulant housecat. he takes the tart from you, cold fingers ghosting over yours as the golden brown crust crumbles in his palm.

ignoring the sour berries, the taste is like a bite of heaven, but not the distant kind that’s hidden behind a veil of clouds. the kind that’s only found within the quaint, humble warmth of a homely kitchen, made with love by one’s own hand. your hand. the knowledge tastes all the sweeter on his tongue.

he’s snapped from his dazed pastry-savoring stupor when you speak up again, enjoying a slice of your own.

“happy birthday, gojo.” he stiffens, but he’s not quite sure why. if you notice his change in demeanor, you don’t say anything about it.

“congrats to another year,” you smiled, lifting up your half-eaten tart, not unlike the onigiri you’d shared with him a year ago. except this time he reciprocates, and you share a toast of berries and cream in the darkness of his dorm, at 3am on a quiet sunday.

the dorms are silent. the only sound is the wind outside, throwing leaves and dust at the window panes as it sings a tune in ode to winter. come tomorrow, it’ll likely be silenced by a coating of thick, white snow; unmoving, burying the secrets of the earth beneath the glittering icicles. not unlike the boy next to you, with pretty blue eyes that are constantly focused yet distant all the same, hair the color of clouds and face worn with age unbefitting of a child.

come tomorrow, the snow will fall and snuff out the life of the flowers and plants. but in this tranquil bubble of time, satoru is as free as a dove outside of its silver cage.

he reaches over, pulling you in by the sleeve of your night shirt and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. it happens in the blink of an eye; a moment of impulse, where for once, he allows himself to breathe; to let down the walls he literally holds up around him, to let his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes and breathe in your scent, taste the heat on your skin and the buttery sweet crumbs dotting the curve of your lips; the dips in the corners of your mouth that make you always look so pretty when you smile.

when he pulls away, he refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at the only remaining clue of the tart in his palm— a single, rotten blueberry, squishy and soft. the silence rings in his ear as his face becomes hot.

“what was that for?” you ask quietly, staring angrily— in embarrassment, into nothing.

“there were crumbs on your mouth,” he explains.

nothing more, nothing less.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

#I AM GENUINELY SO UPSET I SPRAINED MY FUCKING TOE #inbox 💌 #not sure if u wanted a continuation of hs!bully gojo so sorryyyyy #billet-doux #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk gojo #satoru #gojo jjk #jujutsu gojo #gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x you #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojosatoru #jjk satoru

[futurecorps3]

Hello my love! I have heard your call for Kaz requests and I have an idea rattling around in my head!

Could you maybe do a Kaz x fem!Reader where they're in their early 20s and have been together for years and overcome Kaz's touch aversion (bc our poor boy deserves some healing 😭)? But that's not the idea, the idea is that the reader hasn't been sleeping for a few nights and ends up getting hurt because of it? Could be from fainting and hitting her head, slow reflexes on a job, etc. I trust your brilliant mind!

I can't wait to watch you grow as a writer!!!! ❤️

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐮𝐦

Masterlist<3

Summary: The lack of sleep Kaz has been warning his girl about finally has consequences. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: Mentions of overwoking, lack of sleep, blood, a very angsty moody angry sad Kazzle, mentions of blood and lost of conscience. The usual crow violence! Lmk if I missed any. Word Count: 3.5K whoops Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I love the prompt, however and am very excited to work on this. Hope u like it nonnie and that last thing means the absolute world! <3

˚ · • . ° .

Now he knew he was in no position to demand her to rest. Kaz Brekker was known in his close circle for two things; killing whoever disrespected his love and always scheming. The electricity his brain consumed when plotting the next heist didn't even allow him to sleep when being tucked in with Y/N laying over his chest. But she never had the same issue before!

That's how it worked. She got mad because he wasn't sleeping and would reproach his ears off until he folded and left his papers to join her in bed. So, it was safe to say Kaz was startled when he noticed the absence of steps approaching his office. The clock read the time to be a quarter past midnight. He learned by endlessly scolding from you the hard way it was no use staying up late for a job when he had pretty much everything prepared, so he dropped everything and left to his room.

"Darling, are you-" his question was answered as he opened the door and saw her drawing on the little desk he got for her. "Hmm, hi love. It's quite early. What are you doing here?" Kaz wanted to laugh at that. Had she really lost notion of time that badly? "It's past midnight now, Y/N. What are you working on?" His shirt was discarded in some chair, along with his coat.

He was now in his dress pants and a black sleep blouse, leaning over the back of her chair to see the canvas. It was a picture of the sea, surely an image she hadn't been able to get out of her head after the quick trip you took to the docks with Wylan to ensure a better hiding spot, in case things went south on Saturday.

"I don't know if I'm getting the blues right... you know how it somehow turns gray when the day's rainy?" she wondered out loud. "Don't throw it away altogether, I know you're already thinking about it" "I'm not!" Y/N giggled, knowing fully her boyfriend could read her mind. "Fix it in the morning. Let's go to bed now, yes?" Kaz tried, tilting his head to her right side and nudging his nose a little on her cheek as she hummed in response.

It had taken a long time, many years, to reach these moments. Years of hoping she could one day have his arms draped around her waist in security, head on his chest without a care in the world, because all that really mattered was they'd be keeping each other warm with their bodies. Y/N was patient, not minding the baby-steps and Kaz's constant need to push her away because he thought she deserved better. Truth is, there was no one better for her.

Kaz had a hard time wrapping his head around this fact. Did you love him for him? A limping criminal who was too weak to even bear the thought of embracing you when tears streamed down your cheeks on a specially tough day? Why? It took convincing, long talks, difficult moments and even worse fights... but you made it.

She felt his steady heartbeat as they lay together in their silk black sheets, indulging in the beauty of it. Their breathings became one, and she swore there was no better place the saints could come up with as heaven. "Everything's ready?" "Yes, I figured I should come here with you instead of overthinking it all. I'll tell everyone the plan tomorrow and revise it again the day before" he took a deep breath, turning to face her and leaving a soft kiss on her lips.

"It's late, you don't seem tired" Kaz noted, Y/N's eyes nowhere near closing as they usually would by now. Her boyfriend, on the contrary, was starting to hide that beautiful icy green his irises held, then came a yawn to confirm his fatigue. "Rest, my love. I'm sure I'm not too far behind," she assured him, pecking his head as he lay on her chest now.

"Goodnight, Kaz".

˚ · • . ° .

It may as well have been minutes, or hours, days, for all she cared to reason. All she knew was that she couldn't sleep for the life of her. Kaz moved a lot in his sleep and after he lost hold of her, the night became a non-stop tossing and turning in their shared bed. She could hear the faint sound of carriages passing down their street, surely carrying some rich merchant who just had the night of his life betting or in one of the pleasure houses.

It had been a while since she felt this way. Pretty much every night prior Kaz offered her a permanent position on the crows after she worked with them was like this. The clock in their room, hanging on a wall distant from her, kept ticking and if it got quiet enough, she could've been able to hear the gears turning. Three in the bloody morning and Y/N had luckily gotten by far twenty minutes of sleep. The girl sighed and lay down again, looking up at the ceiling briefly before closing her eyes in hopes of resting a little more.

She didn't, not even in the days ahead. Kaz pointed out how he could feel her moving way more than usual as his a light sleeper, not blaming her whatsoever but more concerned as to what was keeping her up. Y/N didn't know either, so she figured solving it with Jesper's coffee and quick (very ineffective) naps on the couches and tables at the slat so she could at least be aware of the task at hand; the job.

The day came, and she felt very optimistic about it all. Truth is, Y/N loved dressing up with pretty dresses and daggers hidden around her thighs. She found some kind of satisfaction in keeping this knowledge to herself, the men and women throwing looks at her, completely unaware of how dangerous she happened to be. People on the streets knew her as the wild child... ruthlessly gorgeous, is what Kaz called her.

The girl had a habit of getting carried away in a fight. Too much anger and resentment for the past had to find an exit. It did when she killed, leaving a scared Jesper to deal with an even more scared Wylan who wouldn't dare look her in the eye for weeks after she kept on punching a man's face she saw was trying to kidnap a little girl right after a job years ago. Kaz helped and understood.

His revenge was calculating and took years in which she was by her side, but Y/N just couldn't help herself when it came down to the people who did unspeakable things to her. With the years, she got a hold of herself even though her nickname on the barrel stuck, adding "the crow queen" when word got around she was Brekker's girl. Now, she was still ruthless but way more cold-headed and grounded, Kaz's doing.

She wore a pink dress with embroidered roses around the floaty sleeves. Inej had a blue set of dress pants and shirt, long-sleeved as well as Nina sported a hot red strapless dress with a lot of cleavage. "We're a smoke show! Those fuckers will barely be able to keep their eyes off of us." The last one squealed, adjusting her hair "That's the point" Inej giggled, agreeing clearly as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Y/N laughed at the thought and her head pained a little; Girls on those big houses did the very same thing they were doing now, with very different intentions. Those ladies wanted to find a rich husband, and they'd be set. Her friends were dressed to kill, and so was she. A little fucked up version of a cliché she, too, wished to live when she was little. "I hope these sleeves aren't an issue" she wondered, picturing them getting stuck on their knife or maybe being too tight to throw a punch.

"It's a simple job, love. There's nothing to be worried about! Also, I can bet on my life Kaz is going to be drooling over you when he sees." Nina smiled, playfully smacking her shoulder. "Even more so if you fight in that, he's going to go insane" spoke the Suli girl with a giggle "Kinky" the heartrender added, making the girlfriends break in a fit of laughter. Nina was right, Y/N knew, but decided against confirming her friend's assumptions.

Her eyes felt droopy from the obvious lack of sleep but nothing a cup of coffee couldn't fix, right? She walked down the stairs and into the makeshift kitchen they owned, heating up some. The smell filled her body with pleasant chills, and suddenly some more energy invaded her. "Wacha got there?" asked Wylan, who was quietly sitting behind her. How long had he been there? How did she not notice?

"Coffee, want some?" "Right before a job?" "Yes, I haven't been sleeping too well the last couple of days". Certain zemeni voice erupted from outside the room, exclaiming a brief "Neither have us!" that had the merchling blushing like he got some contagious disease. Y/N delivered a pat on his back, and coffee in hand she exited the room.

Kaz gathered everyone in the living room, to revise the plan once more. "...so make sure you cover that corn-" He stopped mid-sentence when Y/N came into view. Her hair looked polished, but she could be bald for all he cared. The dress complimented her figure beautifully, adjusting in the right places, which to Kaz was any place, really. Inej and Nina giggled and high fived. "Go on, love." She smiled, ready to listen attentively at his plan even though he made sure to walk her through it personally a few hours ago.

As Y/N brushed next to him, he grabbed her hand to make her stop right before she got seated. "You're stunning. Is it comfortable?" he whispered, looking at her with a certain glow in his eyes he once thought lost. "Yes, dear. Thank you" she pecked her boy's cheek and took a seat behind him. He went on with the plan, and everyone seemed pretty much ready to leave.

So they did.

˚ · • . ° .

"Darling, watch out!" Jesper exclaimed, shooting at a man behind Y/N. Things went south, they did. In the hiding spot Wylan and the girl had settled; some dreg must've ratted, they guessed. An ambush from some new-forming band trying to get known by stealing from The Crows themselves, pathetic. Inej had gotten there to help, but Y/N and Jesper insisted she went back and warned the others so to spare them from possible damage.

The wild child and Jesper were a great team, who knew a durast and an avid fighter could take down men three times their size and weight? They proved on many occasions to be useful for situations as these, so there was no problem. They'd be out of there in the blink of an eye. Around ten people had arrived at the scene, and four remained, Y/N realized as she took a kick in the gut and fell on her back, jumping back on her feet with a flip.

Jes' revolvers did the job for two others as she managed with the guy in front of her. "Come on, big guy, that can't be the best you got, aye?" she smiled wickedly, taunting the man with a daring hand despite the very much broken rib she could feel. The dress was ruined with blood she was sure wasn't hers, shreds ripped it off so largely one of her legs was now exposed.

He lunged forward, coming with a dirty blade to her throat, and she skipped it. Came again, now, aiming for her arm and she skipped it again, landing a kick on the throat that left him coughing on the ground. Y/N crouched to his level and grabbed him by the hair, sliding a knife in the same spot, careful not to cut. She noticed a tattoo on his neck, a beaver. Couldn't help but laugh. "You tell your boss not to mess around with us, or next time he won't get too lucky as to get less than half of his men in one piece. And change the tattoo, a bloody beaver? Seriously?"

The man nodded furiously, tripping on his way out of the warehouse. "A beaver? Their thing is beavers?" Jesper laughed, putting his babies back in place and making sure the painting they had stolen was still with him. "I know, couldn't pick a funnier thing" she answered, giggling. Looking around, something was odd. Yes, Y/N was not very well educated and lacked the month of college her best friend had, but she thought she counted four men remaining in this spot of the building.

The other six lay limp near the door, and there were two next to them, plus the one who ran with the message. One was missing. "Hey Jes I think we're missing one" "What do you mean? There's no one here". She stopped listening and her world went quiet when he met his yes. A lanky, tall figure could be seen next to a stack of boxes on her right, a flicking light revealing him for brief intervals of time. Ugly motherfucker carrying a gun that pointed straight at her.

The blood started gushing out of her leg before she could even react. "Too slow" she faintly heard. He wasn't stopping either; shooting at various places until one loud boom next to her made it cease. Was concrete always this cold? Oh, she was now feeling Jesper's soft suit. Warmer. "Is that wool?" Y/N asked and realized her voice sounded a little quieter than she meant. "Yes, it is doll. Open your eyes for me, okay? You can't die on me now"

She really tried. She really wanted to look at her best friends face and maybe hear him crack a joke or two. But her eyes felt droopy and her head felt heavy so she finally fell asleep.

˚ · • . ° .

Kaz arrived minutes later, Wylan, Nina and Inej by his side as they all rushed to a crying Jesper, desperately trying to wake Y/N up. "S-she got shot, didn't flinch.. like she didn't even see the bastard," he hiccuped, letting his boss take his place next to a limp body as his boyfriend helped him up and hugged him tightly.

Brekker's head spun. A thousand possibilities. There was blood all over the dress, and leaking over his clothes but he couldn't give a fuck. Not her. He couldn't bare it. Y/N was a piece of heaven in that saint forsaken island, the only saint he ever believed in and the angel that saved him from himself. If he lost her, there was no coming back for him. The water rose to his nose again for a brief moment.

It hadn't happened in a while. And he chose the techniques his lover taught him. He acted. "Nina" he mumbled, taking Y/N on his arms as the grisha girl assured him she had a pulse. His legs carried him to the slat, never too far from Nina, as she was making sure her pulse didn't slow down too much. He didn't even notice the pain in his bad leg. He felt a sting on his heart, so sharp it seemed as if pieces of broken glass would poke through it at any moment.

The boy sent Inej looking for whatever idiot decided it was a good idea to try and steal from them. Only information. He'd take care of them later. The Wraith left and was out all night, returning with a lot to say the next morning. Kaz looked over at Y/N's face and the utter peace that brushed over her features scared him even more. Not now. Not like this.

"Is she going to be okay? T-there was definitely something wrong with her back there" Jesper started once the girl was on the bed and getting healed with a few healers in the dregs and Nina. Kaz was sitting, head propped up in his hands as he stared at the wall opposite from him. "She didn't move! At all! He shot her three times and looked amused while doing it". The zemeni man had to stop if he wasn't trying to reunite with the other deceased blessed people on his bloodline. Kaz's stare hardened and his jaw clenched tightly.

"Wylan, I can't lose her. She was too slow a-" "ENOUGH" Kaz stood up, looking at him with murder in his eyes. "If you were more aware of the surroundings, she would be fine. Don't you dare call her slow. This is not her fault. You should've been there" menacing gloved finger pointing to his friend. "Oh, so this is my problem now?" Jesper countered in complete disbelief. "If you don't consider your best friend's life being at critical risk a problem you're much more of a superficial, incompetent and heartless bastard than I thought." Kaz spat.

He knew this wasn't Jesper's fault, maybe it was the lack of sleep or you just weren't on your element. But he had to let it out with someone. Anyone. Pain turns into anger and screaming at your brother when it's too strong. He knew that better than anyone and couldn't care to stop himself this time. "Kaz, stop" Wylan said, and then he noticed Jesper's puffy eyes with a sigh. Then he felt his own neck starting to tickle. He was crying. Kaz Brekker didn't cry.

"Out" "But Ka-" "I SAID OUT"

And out they were. Everyone who didn't need to be there to save his girl's life. He could hear Nina struggling between wrecked sobs, fast pacing around the room and a distant sound of water running non-stop. Hours passed, and he remained in the same position, in the same chair, with the same thoughts running wild inside him.

Not you. Please. I should've been there. I'm going to kill them. Please be okay. I can't do it without her. Please.

Kaz Brekker was repeating pleas, thinking out loud to whoever was listening. Let her live. Please let her live. This is not her fault. Not to a god, neither to those saints who proved to exist so many years ago. He didn't know who he was asking for help to. But he was screaming, please don't let her go. He was leaving with her if she did.

All sound stopped, and Nina emerged from the dimly lit room, drying her cheeks. The boy stood up, looking at her with the most terrified look he ever gave someone. Fuck the facade. He was utterly afraid. "She's okay, not waking up, but she will". He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and couldn't help but throw himself into Nina's arms in search for some comfort to his wrecked sobs.

His friend received him with open arms, careful not to squeeze him too hard, as she knew that could trigger him. "I can't lose her, Nina" he whimpered before pulling away. "You're not. Not now and not soon. She's okay, Kaz. Stay with her, will you? She could be a little startled if she wakes up in an empty room"

He almost scoffed at that. What else would he do? A quiet nod was delivered, and he stepped inside to accompany her in an uncharacteristically unsettling silence. There were dirty gauzes everywhere, her dirty dress discarded in a corner and a blanket covering her figure. Kaz stopped, looking at your chest. It rose and fell in a moderate rhythm. Good.

Taking a seat once again, he held her hand and brushed a thumb over it, grateful to whoever listened. And Nina.

Sun bled through the curtains, filling it all with a pleasant orange hue Kaz knew Y/N would appreciate. Jesper came by every few hours and amends were made. He understood how badly everything hit Kaz the day before and didn't need an apology. They were all under intense pressure the day before, couldn't blame him for a such a reaction. Wylan had brought flowers and Inej made sure everything was ready for when she regained consciousness.

His crows got it handled.

A whole day and a half had gone by and he was reading beside her when she woke up. Her hand moved and he could feel the twitch in his palm, looking up frantically to find those pretty y/e/c eyes looking back at him. "Finally, got some sleep," she joked and laughed at her own joke. Kaz laughed back. "Hello" he offered, kissing her hand and never really wanting to let go "Hi". "Are you feeling okay?" the boy asked, happy to see his lover once again awake.

"It hurts a bit but I'll live" "I'm counting on that, my love". ♡

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadwo and bone netflix #crooked kingdom #freddy carter #shadow and bone season two #sab s2

[sh1-n0bu]

Hi!

Is it okay for me to request a sub xiao?

Where the reader continues to edge him and tug at his collar prasing him.

and then at the end completely overstimulates him and praises him.

Can the reader call xiao cute petnames too?

like good boy, cutie, sweetie and etc please?

♡︎ 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 ♡︎

characters: sub!xiao x nb!dom!reader

warnings: collaring, praise, dacryphillia, overstimulation, edging, small hints of corruption, light petplay, cock can be read as strap on, reader is an immortal but what they are can be completely up to you.

notes: forgive me nonnie, i took so long to write this😔i’m starting to think writer’s block is catching up to me

nevermind. all i needed was to see xiao on the official stream break to get motivated again😍❗️

you and xiao first met centuries ago, shortly after the archon war has ended, the seven seats of the heavenly principles had gotten their victors. when you had first ran into the yaksha the poor thing was caught up in his own karmic debt, suffering the consequences of his own actions, writhing in agony. he tried to push you away but you were a thousands year old immortal who has seen everything teyvat had to offer.

the beginning of you two’s relationship was definitely odd and trippy for sure. however over time, when xiao figured out you were immortal just like him, he slowly began to open up. first it started with simple little talks and grunts, then the full blown chatting about everything phase began. soon that evolved to you and xiao opening up to each other about your pasts, deeds, mistakes and successes. and before you two could even understand the relationship you two have is what humans call “romantic love”, there you two were, holding each other close, stripping each other naked, learning about all sorts of pleasure.

it took a long time just for xiao to start talking with you, so of course sex life was incredibly slow and gentle between you and the yaksha. but slowly the more nights you spend with xiao, the more you realized he really enjoys being referred to as “kitty”.

at first it your thousands year old stubborn self found it odd since from what xiao told you, his true form is that of a bird’s not a cat. however soon you grew to love it for the sight of the cold and unstoppable yaksha, being reduced to a crying, babbling mess underneath you, clinging to you tightly and begging for you to fill him up was greatly addicting. which is what led to now.

“AANH~! nyaah! [n-nameee]…” whining and sobbing your name loudly with his red eyeliner running down his cheeks, xiao pawed at your finger curled around the soft collar around his neck. you’ve been forcing him to continue riding your cock for hours and it fucking hurt. not to mention your other hand was wrapped around the tip of his cock, toying with the tip slightly before putting your thumb over the slit of his cock when it starts to twitch violently. his poor tiny cocklet was already an angry red, twitching whenever your thumb would circle over the sensitive, slick tip.

“it’s alright kitty. keep riding me. you’re doing such an amazing job, kitty” cooing soft praises and tugging on the collar around his neck again to guide his hips to slam down onto your cock, you ignored his sobs and pleas for you to let him cum. it feels better, he knows that! but he just can’t help but be so greedy!

your big, fat, cock rearranging his insides, splitting his ass open, your voice cooing honeyed words into his ear, your hand teasingly, painfully rubbing at the slit of his twitching, red cock was just all too much for him. even though it’s not the first time you two are having sex, it feels like it is.

to the tiny, trembling, wailing yaksha on your lap, your dick just makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull, reaching places he never thought was even there. it just hits on all the right spots so good and his mind can’t comprehend the praises flowing out of your mouth.

noticing how your sweet boyfriend’s head was already fucked stupid with his hazy eyes and gibberish nonsense, you smiled sweetly before finally letting go of his cock. holding onto his waist tightly before thrusting up into his sloppy hole, creating more loud, wet, squelching sounds you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“aaannhg~! nyaAAH~! t-there—sho good! [name]—sho good♡︎” blabbering drunken words, he couldn’t even hear you calling him sweet nicknames at all. finally cumming all over his and your tummy with a loud squeal when you harshly thrusting up into his sensitive spot, your lovely kitty fell on top of your chest, shuddering and twitching, too lost in the pleasure. managing to only weakly whimper when you continued to fuck into his wet hole before mewling when he felt the familiar warmth of your cum shooting into his walls.

patting him on his head and cradling his trembling tiny body, you whispered another praise before cuddling him close.

“good kitty♡︎”.

#nobu.writes #sub!genshin impact #sub genshin impact #sub!genshin #sub genshin #sub!character #sub character #sub!xiao #sub xiao #x dom reader #dom!reader #dom reader #dom male reader #dom fem reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #xiao smut

[azulock]

NNN for bllk boys?

For a moment I was living blissfully in a world where NNN wasn't a thing but now you reminded me that it is, nonnie. I laughed tho, the whole concept sounds like some masochist's idea of fun. Let's go!

No Nut November for the bllk guys

Guys who last the whole month with ease. Be it cause they have a low sex drive or they just have that much self control. Guess some people are just built different.

KUNIGAMI, YUKIMIYA, Sae, Nikko, Isagi

Guys who last the whole month, but it's a struggle, but they don't give up and make it through. They'll come out of it with better self control but also a desperate need to fuck.

REO, RIN, Karasu

Guys who almost make it but fail near the end. 30 days is a lot, ok, they really try but it's difficult, so by the end of the month they betray their self control. You can do it next year, king.

OTOYA, Chigiri, Kurona

Guys who make it to the middle of the month, but can't really last more than that two week mark. They try, but they learn it's not for them, and that's alright, that's fine. Not trying next year, tho.

BACHIRA, Sendo, Kiyora

Guys who don't even make it past a week. Was probably coerced into trying by a girlfriend or as a bet. They don't give it their all, they already know they weren't built for that. No bet is worth this much effort.

NAGI, PRINCE, Hiori

Guys who don't even try, there is no men or god who could make them try. If these virgin losers wanna show self restraint for the month they'll go the opposite route and show full self indulgence and fuck as much as possible. Not only All Nut November but All Fuck November.

OLIVER, SHIDOU, LAVINHO, Kaiser

Bonus Round: Got betrayed by his own body busting a nut while asleep. Shameful, defeated by nocturnal emission. NESS

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro #oliver aiku #ryusei shidou #bachira meguru #chris prince #lavinho #michael kaiser #chigiri hyoma #kunigami rensuke #I laughed writing this legit

[vivalas-vega]

Can I request a fic with Jake? I was thinking about something where he stands up for the reader when they come over to a family dinner or something like that and her relatives all just keep criticizing her and being mean and she is used to it but Jake won't stand for it and defends her?

Thank you so much either way, I love your fanfics!!!

hi nonnie!!! thank you so much for your sweet words - I hope you like it! and thank you so much to @natrace for beta reading this for me!!

You smoothed your dress over for the dozenth time since parking the car as you waited for the exact right moment to enter the restaurant, swaying uncomfortably from side to side at the way the fabric clung to your calves. “If I smoke really quickly do you think they’ll smell it on me?” you asked Jake who was standing next to you and looking like you’d grown an extra head with how neurotic you’d been acting all day.

“You smoke?” he asked incredulously, and you smiled sheepishly.

“Sometimes, under duress,” you replied, fishing in your purse. 

“You are not under duress, it’s just your family,” he said, grabbing your hands.

“Uranium mission was less stressful than this,” you muttered and he just laughed, tugging you along to walk inside. You were led back to a semi-private area where your mother and father sat who greeted the two of you with tight smiles and one-shouldered hugs.

“It’s nice to see you,” you said, smiling at Jake who pulled your seat out for you. 

“Lieutenants,” your father said, taking a sip of his scotch. “Lucky we were able to catch you while we’re in town.”

“Yes sir, very lucky,” you agreed, reaching for the glass of water on the table. 

“I hear you’ve been doing good out there at Top Gun,” he said to Jake, “how’s Maverick been treating you?”

“Maverick has been great, sir, it’s been an honor teaching alongside him.” he answered and you took a deep breath, dreading the moment he turned his attention to you. 

“It’s nice you’re also back at Top Gun, I was surprised they’d recalled you for that mission at all,” he said and you bit your lip. “Do you feel like you’re learning anything new?”

“Well, there’s always something new to learn, dad, but I am an instructor as well,” you pointed out and he just nodded halfheartedly. 

“That’s a lovely dress, dear,” your mom interjected, trying to grab your attention.

“Oh uh, thank you… I think you got it for me a few years ago, haven’t really had time to do any shopping recently,” you said and she nodded.

“I can pick up a few more things for you when we arrive home and ship them out if you’d like,” she offered and you smiled.

“That’s okay, mom, you don’t have to do that,” really you hoped she wouldn’t.

“It’s no trouble,” she said and you gave a bright smile to the waitress who came to take your drink orders and you watched as your mom was pleased with you not ordering a cocktail and instead ordering a sparkling water. 

“I’ll be right back, need to powder my nose,” you said, not entirely sure what you even meant by that but you hurried down the hallway and flagged down your waitress. “Can I ask you to do me the biggest favor?” you asked and she smiled knowingly.

“Vodka or tequila?” she said and you flushed, “not the first tense family dinner I’ve served.”

“Tequila, you are an angel… thank you so much, you can just slip me a separate tab for the drinks,” you said before heading back to the table where your father was continuing to fawn over Jake. You didn’t mind, not at all… Jake was a great pilot and though his ego rarely ever fit through the door, he did deserve to be told how great he was but you did hope that every once in a while he would acknowledge you as well, but tonight did not seem to be that night.

“You should be spending more time in the air with Jake, you’re lucky to have him on your squad, there’s a lot he can teach you,” he said and you bit your lip as you looked at Jake.

“Well, sir, I actually feel like I learn more from her than she ever could from me,” he said and you smiled softly but you knew your dad wouldn’t accept it.

“She’s unfocused, you being here tonight proves just that… Top Gun isn’t a matchmaking academy but she turned it into one nonetheless.” 

“Well, either way it’s lovely you two found each other,” your mother said, “honey, have you given any more thought to taking a more permanent teaching position?”

“I wasn’t aware that was something I was thinking about,” you replied.

“Oh, I just assumed with the two of you getting together you were finally starting to think about settling down and starting a family,” she shrugged, as if that was the most nonchalant thing ever and Jake reassuringly rubbed your knee under the table.

“That’s not really our priority right now,” you said. 

“Maybe it should be,” your father said gruffly, “being a pilot doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.” Jake went to respond but you just knocked your knee against his and softly shook your head. 

“Besides… I’m sure it’s crossed Jake’s mind once or twice, are you sure you’d be able to withstand the demands of being a wife and mother while being in the Navy?” your mom added and you choked on your drink.

“Excuse me?” you asked, looking at her wide eyed.

“Mind your manners,” she whispered, “I just mean that you’re not getting any younger, dear, and Jake is a good man with a very promising Navy career ahead of him… you’d be smart to start thinking about this now before you lose him,” she finished.

“I haven’t actually,” Jake interjected and you all turned to look at him, “thought about starting a family. We’re not quite there yet, but the two of us will talk about it when the time comes,” he said. “I’m not interested in making her a wife until she’s ready.” 

“You should do it soon, promotions are going to start coming your way Lieutenant, wait too long and you won’t have the time.” your dad said and you suddenly felt like cattle being sold for auction. “And while she has the opportunity to leave the Navy gracefully.” 

“I’d be willing to wager she gets promoted before I do, sir,” Jake said and your dad just shook his head.

“It’s a good thing you’re a better pilot than you are a betting man, son.” 

“If you take a step back from active duty it will give you more time to plan the wedding too, dear… we could have it back home at the country club,” your mom said and you scoffed.

“Are you two even listening to us?” 

“Watch your tone,” your father said and you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re lucky this is all this conversation is with how you’ve tarnished our family name.” 

“Okay, that is enough,” Jake said suddenly, losing his grip on his patience. “You should know that your daughter is better than anyone in our squad and we all know it, we’re all competing for second best because none of us have a shot in hell at taking first with her around.”

“You might want to watch yourself, son,” your father warned.

“I’m not your son. And when your daughter feels ready for me to propose you can bet your ass I’ll do so at the first chance I get, but not a moment sooner because she is not just a potential wife or potential mother to my children for me… she is my partner and should we make any decisions about our future we will be sure to let you know… otherwise, sweetheart, I actually think we double booked ourselves.” he said, standing up and tugging you with him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” your mom asked, looking up at you in shock.

“Right now? Oh, right now I’m going to go get drunk with my friends, thank you for a lovely evening,” you said, tossing your napkin onto the table and walking out of the restaurant with Jake. “Hard Deck is only a five minute walk from here?” you suggested and he nodded, laughing as you took your heels off and let them dangle from your fingers. “Thank you for doing that, standing up to them was incredibly hot of you,” you said.

“Wasn’t going to let them talk about you like that, your dad is insane for not being proud of you… I know I am,” he said, looping his arm around your waist as you walked along the beach towards the bar. 

“I love you, you know that?” you asked and he just nodded, leading you through the front door of the Hard Deck and flipping off your friends as they whistled at your appearances. “Hey Pen, I’m going to need a lot of tequila,” you said, graciously accepting the two shot glasses she set before you. 

“To us and our country club wedding and lots and lots of babies,” he joked, clinking your glasses together as you laughed and downed the shot.

“Wait, what? What babies?” Rooster asked as he approached and you just shook your head as you ordered another round. 

“Come on, I wanna kick your ass at pool,” you said, dragging Jake behind you and giggling as he spun you around and enveloped you in a kiss. 

“I really am so proud of you, you know…” he said and you nodded, leaning up to kiss him again. 

“I know, and I love you so much.”

“I love you too…”

#comet answers #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fan fiction #jake hangman seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fan fiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman #hangman fan fiction #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #top gun fan fiction

[angel-of-the-moons]

Kuai Liang/Harumi x fem reader who is really dense and doesn’t realize the two are attracted to her. So dense the two of them have to spell it out for her cause no amount of flirting is getting through her head.

sfw or nsfw I really don’t care.

NONNY I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS WE NEED SOME HARUMI CONTENT! Also enjoy my totally original and not punny at all title

Pyromance

Kuai Liang (Scorpion) x Harumi Shirai x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, fluffy stuff, some flirting, reader being oblivious

A/N: Given that there's only a small tidbit of info on Harumi in Liu Kang's timeline, I'm going off of what little is mentioned in-game and on Wikipedia. Also deadass I want a mandarin duck so fucking bad.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You weren't sure why you were born the way that you were. But when a man with glowing eyes showed up at your crappy little cabin in the mountains, saying he was a god? Yeah, only you would have that kind of interaction.

You didn't believe him until he displayed his powers with fire and explained to you that your powers were only a danger to you.

Yes, powers. You had something called pyromancy, you could summon flames or heat things with your very mind and hands.

So when this "Liu Kang" told you about a clan in Japan called the Shirai Ryu? And that they would welcome you with open arms? You were hesitant to accept.

On one hand, your powers were dangerous, and if you continued to slip up you'd wind up burning your own cabin down, cause a wildfire or... hurt someone. That last one was your greatest fear.

But on the other hand? You'd never even been outside Montana. And Liu Kang wanted you to fly across the world to friggin' Japan? The thought scared you shitless.

You gave him your word that you would think it over for two days. Liu Kang offered to bring someone to you to explain how the clan worked, and you accepted the offer. Perhaps hearing from someone from there would help your decision along.

Liu Kang returned in a ball of fire, alongside him was a woman dressed in a gold and crimson kimono, her long, silky black hair hanging down past her shoulders, twin katanas slung from her obi.

This was Harumi Shirai, for whom the clan was named. Her husband, the Grandmaster of their clan, Kuai Liang was indisposed with new recruits, as was his younger brother Tomas.

She stayed with you, explaining the nuances of their clan and how open-minded they were to your situation. They offered to allow you to bring your comforts (which were admittedly few. You were a bit of a recluse out of necessity due to your powers.) to their compound if you accepted.

She was a beautiful woman, and her words and voice put your nerves at ease.

Of course, two days later. You accepted.

You found yourself in a bit of a culture shock, certainly. But true to Harumi's word, the Shirai Ryu were accepting of you in a way you never anticipated. Training with Kuai Liang allowed you to feel... normal. You'd never felt normal a day in your life. It was nice, to feel so in-place where you always were an enigma before.

Harumi and Kuai were very warm to you (pun intended!) as time went on and your skills flourished. You weren't one for combat, but you excelled in using your powers for defensive stances. When Harumi began teaching you to use her katanas (such an honor) she and Kuai were proud and impressed you used your flames now so effortlessly to ignite the blades without melting it.

To congratulate your progress, they had a custom blade made for you. You were honored that they accepted you so wholly and you found yourself wondering if you truly wanted to return to rural Montana after learning of all of the wonders you'd been blind to before.

What you never really realized though, was that Harumi and Kuai would often take time to spend with you, speak with you about things not related to the clan or your training.

Kuai would ask about your life, your hobbies. When you admitted you liked flowers, he gifted you two potted spider lilies.

Their alien appearance immediately enamored you, as you'd never seen them before, their bright scarlet colors catching the eye and brightening up your room.

And of course, with Harumi... She would join you in the baths. In Japan it was fairly common of course, just not as traditional as what was built in the Shirai Ryu compound.

You were never one for insecurities and Harumi loved that about you. In the baths you would talk about anything that would come to mind, and she would often find herself drawn to your hair, of all things. She adored touching it and putting the shampoo and conditioners in it for you, and combing it out. The color and feel of it beneath her fingers quickly became a favorite.

But despite all of this you were completely, frustratingly and blissfully unaware that Harumi and Kuai Liang were in fact romantically interested in you. Their little gestures were so obvious, it even had Tomas facepalming when nobody was looking because of how painful it was to watch you not even recognize their obvious intent to court you.

It became a topic of hushed gossip and side-betting amongst the clan, wondering who would crack first, or when--if ever--you realized what they were doing.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

"I swear... She's so sweet... but so dense!" Harumi laughed, the back of her hand over her forehead as she laid on their bed.

Kuai Liang shook his head with a smile as he undid his robes, leaving his torso bare as he looked at his wife. He shared her humorous exasperation with your oblivious nature, but still found it endearing.

Kuai knelt on the bed and leaned over Harumi, giving her a soft kiss to her lips as she sunk her fingers in his dark hair, tugging it free of its tie; allowing the dark strands to fall around his face as he smiled down at her.

"Perhaps it is time we drop the subtlety, my love." Kuai said softly, resting on his elbow as he looked down at Harumi.

"Do you think we should?" She hummed, trailing her knuckles across his jawline, reaching up with her fingertips to gently trace the scar going down his face.

"I don't see why not. Otherwise we will be performing this dance for some time." He grinned.

"Kuai, what if she isn't interested?" Harumi sighed sadly, her brows raising in concern.

"Then we respect her wishes and accept her friendship instead. I would be glad for her companionship either way." He said simply.

Harumi's beautiful, Cupid's bow lips curled into a smile.

"You're right. Either way, having her close is a blessing. One we will accept no matter the context. We can speak with her in the morning."

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You were standing beneath the sakura and plum blossom trees surrounding the sizeable pond in the compound. It was your favorite spot to be because it had the least traffic and the small bridge going over it was perfect for watching the koi as they danced beneath the water.

But your favorite place to sit was beneath the trees near the shoreline. Due mostly in part to the small flock of Mandarin ducks that called the compound home, the little feathery critters took a shine to you, especially after you nursed one of their flock back to health when her poor little leg got broken.

That and, well. They knew you had grapes at the ready, plus a small container of oats you'd feed them out of your hand.

The Mandarin ducks were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen; the males' colors were like a silky orchestra of hues and cute little plumages that admittedly looked a tad silly, but still looked beautiful. The females were lacking in the colors the males had, but you adored their little spots and speckles.

Oftentimes, you'd wind up with one of the younger males cuddled comfortably in your lap, tucking himself under his wings to nap on the silk of your robes while you stroked his feathers.

And it was here that Harumi and Kuai Liang found you, sitting beneath the trees, blossoms that had been shaken loose by the breeze falling around you like a beautiful rain as you fed the ducks from your palm, laughing to yourself as their little bills tickled your hand.

They stood there, merely watching for a few moments until Kuai nudged Harumi on, and they slowly made their way to you as a young female duck hopped into your lap, trying to snitch some extra snacks from you.

Their footsteps were light, to avoid frightening your feathery little companions as they closed on you.

Harumi spoke your name softly and you looked up with an abashed smile. "Oh! I would get up, but..." You looked done at the female water fowl in your lap, as she snuggled down, her tail feathers wiggling contentedly.

Kuai couldn't help but chuckle as he and Harumi sat next to you. The little birds seemed so fond of you. It was cute.

He slowly reached out to try and pet the female in your lap, but she puffed up and made a rather angry noise that plainly said "back off", which made you and Harumi giggle.

"It would seem your charm does not work on all women, my love." Harumi smirked.

"Yes, yes, that is painfully obvious." Kuai replied with a smile, shaking his head as the duck turned back around in your lap, accepting your soothing pets to her feathers.

"Is something the matter?" You ask them curiously.

Harumi and Kuai Liang exchange a long, silent glance which slightly concerns you.

"Kuai and I discussed something last night." Harumi told you.

"Okay..."

"And we both decided to ask you something." Kuai continues. "You understand the things we do for you? Not the training, but the smaller things."

"Like... My sword? And the flowers?" You say, your brows furrowing slowly.

"Yes." Harumi chuckles. "Do you understand why we did those things for you?"

You tilt your head. "To... be... nice?"

Harumi and Kuai chuckle together, grinning at one another at how sweetly oblivious you were. They look back at you and Kuai talks. "And you don't have any other inclination, dear? At all?"

Other inclination? What could--did he just call you dear? What could he be talking...

Your eyes get big and you cover your mouth in sheer horror, your face flushing in embarrassment as you awkwardly look away.

"Oh."

Harumi giggles and has to cover her mouth and cough to chase it away, Kuai Liang merely shakes his head and chuckles softly.

"We've been trying to court you. You're a wonderful person, an amazing woman." Harumi says, giving you a soft look. "We've both been rather... Smitten with you, as of late. We'd hoped you'd realize what our intentions were on your own, but..."

You cover your face and make an embarrassed squeak. "Oh, my god..."

"However." Kuai Liang said, holding his hands up. "We both agreed last night that if you do not reciprocate, we will still gladly accept your friendship."

Your hands drop and you look at them, the surprise evident on your face as you watch Harumi smile at you, her hand slipping into Kuai's.

"We hold nothing but respect for whatever decision you shall make." She told you.

You couldn't believe it. It just seemed so unreal..so unreal that these two amazingly strong, wonderful, beautiful people took a look at you and decided that they wanted you?

You. Of all the people they could possibly pick? A little country bumpkin from Montana?

You look down, petting your little duck friend as she contentedly snuggled you, a couple of her flock-mates snuggling your left thigh.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"...I... I'm open to trying?" You finally say, giving them a shy smile.

Harumi and Kuai's tense postures dropped as they both smiled widely, and Harumi leaned in to kiss your cheek happily.

"We will do our best to prove everything we mean to you." She swears.

Kuai Liang moves towards you and leans in to do the same, his hand brushing your cheek. "We will do everything--"

He was cut off by the female duck in your lap turning around, her tail wiggling and her feathers fluffing up as she opens her mouth and makes more angry noises, making Kuai lean away from you before she is angered any further.

"Ah... The only woman you cannot charm!" Harumi teased as the two of you broke out laughing; whilst Kuai was still unable to give you the small display of affection his wife had given you, all because of the feathered menace that took residence in your comfy lap.

He merely glared at the offensive little bird in your lap as she snuggled back down, staring Kuai back right in the eye as if to say "try me".

#scorpion mortal kombat 1 #kuai liang x you #kuai liang x reader #harumi shirai #harumi shirai x reader #kuai liang x harumi #kuai liang x harumi x reader #harumi shirai x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #scoprion x you #scorpion x reader #kuai liang scorpion #🌙 answered

[sebastianswallows]

hello!! i started reading dangerous and delightful and i am so hooked on it LOL. i love how you write sebastian sm. i saw one of the tags was breeding kink 👀👀 and so i was hoping (if you are taking requests) if you would be able to put a little fic together for that? i don’t think i can wait for it to happen in the story and need something to satiate that thought now LOL

Alright so, this was a hard one 😂 But I finally have it for you, nonny. I'm sorry it took so long!

As I mentioned in that little preview snippet I posted the other day, I had a conflict on whether to write this as con or noncon, and ended up going with noncon cause it just... fits. And you said in another ask that you don't mind, so... I'm hoping it's all satisfactory 👀

Anyway, here goes! Probably the filthiest thing I've written for this fandom yet.

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader (characters are aged up)

— WARNINGS: smut, angst, noncon, vaginal penetration, breeding kink, size kink (Seb is a big boy), creampie, cunnilingus, dirty talk, a bit of bondage, wet & messy, manhandling, fingering

— WORDCOUNT: 12k (yes it's long af)

He kissed her. It was gentle, but his big broad hands held her face still and she couldn’t get away. She muttered into the kiss — in surprise, outrage, shyness — but wouldn’t know what to say even if she were allowed to speak. Sebastian’s soft lips caressed hers until he noticed that she wouldn’t stop struggling, and then he kissed her harder. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her body flush against his, and kept pressing himself into her — his chest, his legs, his mouth, even his breath that fanned hot and fast against her cheek. She moaned and mumbled and scratched her little nails against his shoulders, but it did nothing to stop him.

When he got tired of her trying to dislodge him, he parted his mouth from hers, frowned at her for a few frantic heartbeats, then lept down for another kiss while walking the two of them forward until her back was against the wall. The glance he’d caught of her face — shocked and a little tearful — broke his heart, but Sebastian was determined to see this through.

He could hear her try to say his name, all muffled into the kiss, but he couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop, until she gave up and submitted. His hands moved down to her hips to hold them in something between a tight grip and a caress — he wanted to caress her, wanted to love her, to show her how much he loved her… And if she wouldn’t have it willingly, he would have to make her take it.

He swallowed her gasp when, with a sudden jolt, he pulled her away from the wall and started walking her backwards to the bed. Finally able to move her head back, she dislodged herself from his kiss and started begging him.

“Please, Sebastian, you don’t ha—”

But then he leaned in to kiss her again, because he didn’t want to hear it.

The bed was narrow and quite old, as good as he could afford while in the middle of his research. The mattress sagged a little and the pillows were thin, the sheets a muddled brown with an ugly leafy pattern. He felt sorry that this was where it would happen… He’d imagined it many times, with her, and it was always somewhere better, something soft and clean and bright, something she deserved.

“Sebastian,” she gasped when he grabbed her by the upper arms and pushed her down.

Holding onto her with one arm in a bruising grip, he summoned his wand from the desk — a trick he’d learned from Ominis — and used it to undress her.

“Divesto!” he cast, and in the blink of an eye, all her clothes fell off her body and pooled around her ankles. Even her shoes were taken off her feet.

She yelped and tried to cover herself quickly. Sebastian used the moment to push her further on the bed and plant a knee between her legs. He kissed and kissed her as he laid her back against the pillows, his hands shakily caressing the body that he had only now just scarcely caught a glimpse of, but had so often dreamed about.

The high bone of a hip tickled a line across his palm as he trailed his hand upward, while the other held her right thigh apart. He felt over the smooth plane of her stomach, so tense, so warm, so soft, still dimpled with traces of her corset… Her hands gripped at his sleeves strongly enough that he thought she might tear them open — but then she grabbed his wrist with both of them when his right hand reached her breast. He cupped her while he sighed into her mouth, his face tense with pleasure, lips never ceasing to press his love into her mouth through gentle, tender, patient kisses. Nervously, he brushed a thumb upwards and caught the round little tip. He flicked it back and forth until it hardened, and then, like a loving peck, took it between three fingers and pulled at it a little. Against his mouth, he could hear her whining, pleading, stealing every breath she could against his frantic kisses in an attempt to say something that, she hoped, might stop him.

Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest — from the fear, the humiliation, the sheer shock of what he was doing — and her breath felt frozen in her throat. And only minutes ago, she had been so happy to see Sebastian…

He’d invited her over at around 8 o’clock, offering to have dinner together and saying that he needed her help with it — and she understood instantly what he referred to. She knew something of the nature of his research from what he’d told her through the past few months.

Sebastian had been searching for something he’d read about in a book recently translated from ancient Greek — a Casket of All, or Casket of Plenty, or something like that. It was said to be a container of modest size, probably a box or an urn, that, once opened, would grant the owner their every desire. But it had to be opened with a key, and when last she spoke with Sebastian, the only clue he had was the cryptic translation of a line that said the key ‘would already be in the owner’s possession’.

It was the sort of research that he needed wealthy sponsors for, people connected to the sort of wizards that could lead him in the right direction. He had considered the Notts and the Malfoys, among other even more nefarious sorts. It didn’t help that Ominis absolutely refused to introduce him to the wealthy pure-bloods he knew. In the end, Sebastian spent months ingratiating himself with the Lestranges by tutoring their eldest son, Cyrille, in the dark arts. It was perhaps as harrowing of an experience for the boy as it was for Sebastian, who had never had a particularly good relationship with teachers and found it even more awful to become one himself.

She, however, was very much amused. And whenever they went out together, be it for a picnic or for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, he complained and complained for hours how impossible it was to get little master Cyrille Lestrange to remember basic wand movements. It was supremely funny, in a way she couldn’t explain, to see Sebastian so frustrated with a child.

And after finally learning from Mr Lestrange where the Casket of All was, he travelled to it. She never quite found out where he went, but judging by the duration of the journey there and back, she estimated it was somewhere in Southern France or Spain.

Back in England, researching how to open the thing seemed to take even longer, and she saw Sebastian less and less often as he immersed himself in interpreting old texts and ancient poems. On the rare occasions that he would let her help, they’d spend all day and night and until morning lost together, going down a rabbit hole of synonyms for “opening” and “cleave” and “pour” — because it was obvious, as soon as Sebastian inspected the item, that the Casket was not opened by any conventional key. It had only a little orifice at the top, just large enough to let… something in.

And the meaning of ‘the owner already having the key’ had still evaded him the last time they saw each other — when she fell asleep over his chest on this very bed, his warm hand cupping her shoulder, his chest pillowing her cheek, her legs thrown over his… She’d woken up a little embarrassed and dazed, but Sebastian just smiled, so warm and tender, and brushed his finger over the indent left on her cheek from the fold in his shirt.

She hadn’t suspected anything untoward when she knocked on his door today. He’d smiled upon seeing her and let her in — looking tired but bright-eyed, as he often did lately — and nothing was different about the room except for a few more melted candles than the week before… He offered to take her out to dinner and asked if they should deal with the Caskey before or after.

“After, of course,” she’d said as she took her coat off. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve learned about it.”

His smile had been stilted and sad… Sebastian rarely had sad smiles. That should have been the first hint that something was wrong.

The second hint came when he told her that the key to opening the Caskset of Plenty was proof of consummate love… in liquid form.

It took a few awkward glances from Sebastian and a few more questions from her to drag it out of him that they had to make love. He’d invited her to his home that evening to make love. And the combined release of their pleasure, as he so delicately put it, once poured into that opening no wider than a child’s pinky, would open the Casket. He’d already prepared a vial for it, she saw it laying, nice and corked, on his bedside table.

She refused, of course. It was absolutely outrageous and insulting. Never mind that she’d been in love with him for years. Never mind that she counted the days until she could see him again. Never mind that her whole body flushed at the briefest idea of his naked body over hers. And now, his clothes were unbearably thick beneath her hands…

“Seb—” she muttered when she got the chance to, once his kiss let her breathe for one moment.

He only took a moment to catch his own heaving breath, and stared down at her with haunted brown eyes while his hands stilled on her body.

His room was cold and she trembled, but his hands were so warm… One on her breast — holding it, cupping it, caressing it with teasing flicks that drove her mad — the other at her thigh. And Sebastian kept looking into her eyes, only her eyes, pleading with her in his own silent way... Accept it. Take it. Take me. He leaned down again, slower this time, and kissed her once again.

He kissed her like he loved her mouth, like he loved her taste, like he wanted to take her breath inside of him and live off of it forever. His kiss spoke silently to her, telling her how dear she was to him, how badly he wanted her, how he had thought about this and dreamed about this for so long… It wasn’t even about the Casket anymore, if it had ever been.

She trembled beneath all that tenderness, overwhelmed by an intensity of emotion that had never been directed at her before — not by Sebastian, not by anyone. It was dizzying to feel so afraid, so exposed and vulnerable, but it was twice as dizzying to feel so deeply desired.

And then a shock went through her body and all her thoughts evaporated from her mind, when the hand at her thigh moved.

He still thumbed at the stiff little pebble of her breast, while his other hand caressed, slowly and almost shyly, the full length of her slit — up and down, up and down, over the surface of those plump folds in search of… something.

Sebastian gasped into her mouth when he found it, that little pearl she had, hidden in her intimate places.

She cried out into his mouth when his finger started rubbing at her nub at the same rhythm with which he teased her breast. Her back arched traitorously into his grip and her legs tensed on the bed, scrambling to get away from him.

But there was nowhere to go.

He held her legs down with his own, kneeling above them in a careful way so as not to hurt her, and he let as much of his weight as he safely could onto her torso.

She could only shake her head away from his kiss, leaving him to press his lips into her neck and down, down, down to her clavicle while she pleaded with him and insulted him in turn.

“Damn it, Sebas— STOP! You’re a m-monster! No, not— not like this!”

He answered by nibbling harder on her collarbone, all the while rubbing those two sensitive points on her body — making her burn from one teased little tip to the other, from beneath her legs all the way to her heart, making her sweat and drip over his sheets and writhe beneath him — until the heat began to spread in every little part of her body as if he’d cast some strange spell on her.

“It will be alright,” he whispered against her chest, his lips trailing messily toward her breast. “It will be good, you’ll see…”

“To hell with you!”

“I love you.”

“Get someone else for your stupid experiment!”

“I don’t love anyone else.”

She took in panicked breaths that shook her, and as long as she had strength she scrambled for some hope of freedom, but eventually, under the pressing weight of him, her legs stopped squirming. His breath fanned over her breast and she felt the heat of his face on her skin, so close…

“You don’t love me either,” she whispered tearfully, staring absently at the desk. The setting sun cast flaming blades over it, and over that terrifying Casket.

Sebastian sighed and took her nub into his mouth, still flicking the other. She trembled and cried out while he pressed her sensitive point between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, his lips opening in wider, wetter kisses as he tried to take as much of her flesh within him as he could.

Her nails left his clothes to dig into his scalp and try to pull him off that way. He moaned when she tugged at his hair — first in pleasure, then in pain.

“Stop thinking!” he growled, finally releasing her from his mouth. “Stop thinking and just let yourself be loved for once!”

He pressed his mouth to hers, as if afraid of what she had to say, kissing her breathless before raising himself to look at her again. His eyes were wild, but there was a certain innocence there that seemed out of place. With a look that was a mix of desire and fear, Sebastian brought his hands up to cup her cheeks and brushed her tears away. If being gentle and loving with her didn’t work, perhaps frightening her would…

“Do you understand what I will do to you?” he whispered. “Do you understand what I will do to you if you won’t be mine?”

She whimpered and bit her lip, too scared to even beg to be let go anymore, too limp to fight.

Seeing that she was quiet and scared, he signed and kissed her once again, slower this time, a languorous drip of love, love, love from dry lips onto a sweet surrendered mouth.

He let go of her cheek for a moment, and she was afraid that he would touch her body again — but it was even worse: he reached for his wand. Her eyes went wide; he was a talented wizard who knew more curses than she knew spells, he could force her to submit to his will in horrifying ways…

But instead of pointing some cruel hex at her, he only pointed it at himself.

“Divesto,” he whispered, and his clothes fell all around them. He brushed them aside with another wave of his wand like a soft gust of wind, and then he laid the wand somewhere out of sight, beneath the bed.

She couldn’t even remember where hers was anymore; probably in her coat pocket.

Her trembling was even stronger now as he looked down at her, and she looked down at him, at what parts of his naked body she could see pressed parallel to her. Sebastian caressed her cheek and smiled down at her fondly while her eyes drank him in — round shoulders, tapered waist, and a sprinkle of brown hair and freckles all across his strong, broad chest. She blushed fiercely just at the sight of his skin against hers, let alone the intoxicating feeling of it, the intense intimacy of the moment. His legs felt warmer as they laid across her own, his hips narrow and straight above her softer ones, and against her stomach, she felt…

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his smile dampening to something even gentler. “Don’t worry, not yet…”

His hands took hold of hers and pressed them down beside her head while he gentled her with kisses — from her lips to her chin and her cheeks, trailing upwards to her forehead and around her hairline, each kiss more patient and innocent than the last.

“You don’t have to worry about anything while I’m with you,” he whispered into her hair, breathing her in deeply. “I’ll protect you from everything.”

“Will you protect me from yourself?” she hissed bitterly against his neck.

Sebastian chuckled and leaned close enough to kiss her lips once more, his mouth just resting against hers. “What do you mean, darling?” And at her tummy, she felt his manhood laying heavier, pressing into her soft flesh. “I’m protecting you from myself right now,” he murmured into her mouth.

She whimpered unhappily into his kiss, her eyes squeezed shut in a stubborn frown, but Sebastian chuckled, and caressed her again, and started kissing from her mouth back down again while his hands both slid down from her wrists, her arms, her shoulders, to her chest. He held the birdcage of her ribs between his hands while his lips declared his affections in little pecks and licks and nibbles that went down, down like waterdrops, until his mouth hovered over her heart. He could nakedly see the thin bones moving up and down with the flutter of the heart beneath.

“Just let yourself be loved,” he whispered against the core of her chest, “let yourself be loved by me.”

Above, he heard her whimpering unhappily again, but she had no words left to say to him. She had surrendered with her mind and body, although not with her heart — not yet.

“If I could only make you see how much I care for you,” he sighed, lips kissing gently down her torso, “how much I want with you… have wanted you… and for how long…”

He kissed her stomach now, hands coming down to hold her hips. Sebastian’s eyes slid up to hers for a moment and saw there a more urgent kind of fear, like an animal in a trap — the same wide look, the same fear and hatred, the need to escape, to escape him.

There was a tension in her stillness now that he had not felt before. He almost warned her not to do something foolish, but thought better of it. While holding her gaze, his hand left her hip to slide beneath the bed, and almost as soon as he held his wand again he pointed it at her arms, binding them with a red length of summoned rope.

“Wh—?!”

She was at once surprised and angry with him, looking from her bound wrists back down to him, his face so close to a place where she was so vulnerable.

“I want everything with you,” he said as he held her gaze — scared, furious, and desolate — in his — resolute and fierce.

He scarcely finished saying it before he kissed her, right on her lower stomach — right where her womb was. His eyes were closed in a serene, dreamy way. He opened them again and looked right up at her, and kissed a little to the left, and then a little to the right, roughly where her ovaries would be. It was such an unassuming part of her body, but he knew how special it really was — as magical as any enchanted Casket, as capable of creating wonders inside of itself, and all the more deserving of his desire and greed and possessiveness. Sebastian worshipped this part of her while he took in deep breaths, filling his lungs with her scent just like he filled his mouth with her taste. He wanted all of her to be in him, just like he wished for all of him to be in her.

She frowned as she looked down at him in fear and somewhat confusion — did she really not understand, or did she just not want to understand? Did it, perhaps, not cross her mind why he liked this part of her so much? Why it meant so much to him? Why he lusted over it?

Sebastian parted from her lower stomach with a teasing lick and moved himself a little lower. Her eyes broadened in shock, but he continued to kiss her, more and more intensely.

“I love you,” he said again, “I love you,” as if he was finally telling her some long-held secret, a secret he could no longer keep to himself.

“Seb—”

He kissed her mound. Her legs twitched and she kicked him in the ribs, but it was dull enough that it didn’t even hurt him.

“STOP!” she cried.

He smirked and opened his mouth for a wider kiss before shifting even lower... He held her legs now with his arms, elbows at her knees, palms holding down her thighs. His lower body was almost completely off the bed, but the discomfort hardly mattered.

With a whimper of desire, Sebastian held her thighs apart with his thumbs and gazed at her, right at her. He felt his eyes go dark, lidded in a satisfied way at this sign of his conquest. He could look at the most shameful parts of her, and she couldn’t stop him. And she was so beautiful, so fragile looking, so maddeningly enticing. It made his stomach twitch and his manhood stiffen and his mouth water.

“Please, stop!” she begged, “d-don’t! Let me go!”

“Stop what?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

He continued to hold her, looking at her directly, making up for all the nights he merely dreamed of having a glimpse of this part of her.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked.

She wouldn’t answer, her lips stuck in a shocked, revolted, angry gasp, words so jumbled in her throat that they got stuck there. Sebastian frowned at her silence, and instead leaned still closer, looking down at the thing that he wanted so badly. He had never seen something that could make him feel this way, that could drive him so wild in a way that he would do anything to obtain it. He wasn't ashamed of himself in this moment, not anymore — not ashamed of what he wanted, or what he was willing to do to get it.

He held her down more firmly and pressed his lips against her folds. She yelped and pleaded with him more, but Sebastian barely heard it. Her legs struggled in his grip and he could feel the bed jolting slightly as she tried to tug her arms free, but he only kissed her womanhood more passionately, pressing into her, dipping his tongue between them to lap at her little hole. She was wet against her tongue, and only got wetter as he serviced her.

To say he was desperate would be an understatement - he needed, wanted, craved her flesh and he had to have it. So, when she started to beg and plead with him, it did not make him stop, but it did fill him with a deep, all-encompassing anger. He pulled his mouth away from her for a moment, his words a mixture of affection and anger.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Do you want me to tie your legs down as well?”

She breathed frantically as she stared into his eyes.

“Please, Sebastian,” she whispered tearfully. “Don’t do this to me… Don’t do this to us… We had — we were —”

“We were nothing,” he said lowly. “Platonic, touchless, kissless lovers pretending to be friends, while we were neither one. I want us to be something. I want us to be both. I want us to be everything.”

“No, no, you just want to open that damn —”

“That’s not what it is!” he growled, his hands becoming tighter on her thighs.

He took a deep breath, his eyes softening, and then he kissed her lower lips again. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it calmed him down — as if her taste was all he needed for a bit of happiness to bloom in his heart.

“It’s not about my research. It’s not about the Casket, not really,” he sighed against her delicate entrance. “I want us to be everything together. I want to have everything… with you.”

A plea got stuck in her throat as he dipped his head again and lapped at her greedily, and instead of saying whatever it was she was about to say — denials, rejections, refusals — she moaned. His thumb left her soft inner thigh to rub her pearl while he dipped his tongue inside of her.

“Sebastian!”

He let his groans of pleasure sink into her. She dripped on his tongue as her body welcomed him, opening itself up to him. His thumb flicked her little nub in brutal little motions while he fixed his lips around her core and lapped at her insides. She was so warm and frail there, and tasted so sweet, so raw… Sebastian moaned deep in his throat, his breath coming out in heavy pants that drove the scent of her womanhood up to his head and drowned him.

Slowly, the jerking of the bed stopped as she relented, her wrists laying still in their bindings. Her legs around him also lay now sapless, soft and cold on either side of his chest. Sebastian sighed and finished his tending of her with one last, long, deep kiss the sticky sound of which resounded in the room. He lifted himself from her on his elbows and licked his lips.

“So beautiful,” he sighed, his thumb pleasuring her slowly, coaxing her entrance into rhythmic clenches. “And still so tight…”

Sebastian gazed up at her. She looked ravaged. Her flushed face was damp with tears and her hair had fallen from its elaborate bun into a hazy mane that framed her face, sticking to the sweat on her forehead or streaking across his pillow softly.

“Every time I look at you,” he whispered, “I fall in love again…”

“Don’t say that,” she groaned, shaking her head. “Don’t say you—”

“I love you,” he insisted, swallowing the taste of her. “I love you…” And his thumb started flicking her nub again while the index of the other hand tickled a path up her thigh to poke at her entrance.

“Don’t!”

He looked at her intensely, breathless, watching every frown and tensing of her face while his finger eased itself past her hole.

“I have to, my beloved,” he whispered tenderly.

He pressed in almost shyly, then retreated, then pressed in deeper, making her moan. Her hips twitched beneath him, trying to buck him off. To soothe her, he flicked her nub a little faster.

“Shhh… shhh… there there,” he gentled her. “I just want to feel what you’re like inside…”

His thumb eased off her pearl and Sebastian leaned closer instead, touching it with his tongue for the first time. She yelped and her hips twitched, but he held her down firmly while working his finger deeper, deeper, a little bit deeper inside with each thrust. With a dark look in his eyes as he gazed up at her and a cheeky smirk, Sebastian curled his tongue beneath her nub and just let it rest there, holding that very sensitised part of her on the soft, warm, wet cushion of his flesh. He heard her moan loudly, her back arching — was this her surrender? — and she twitched on his tongue. He closed his lips around her hot little button and suckled on it.

“It’s too much,” she whispered, head thrashing left and right, hands twisting senselessly into the rope. “Sebastian, it’s… too much…”

He chuckled and sucked her deeper into his mouth without mercy. While she was distracted by this, he removed his index finger from inside her and moved it to part one of her plump folds, holding her open as he placed in its stead his thicker middle finger at her hole. Rubbing back and forth he opened her up a little more, a little more each time, making her more pliant, more wet for him. Her juices dripped out of her around his knuckles, dirtying her upper thighs.

She clenched when he reached all the way inside. Her whimpers were drowned out by Sebastian’s hungry moan when he felt the end of her on the tip of his finger.

“Aaah! Stop it!” she hissed through her teeth.

Her legs struggled out of his grasp and kicked until he caught one of them in his hand. He held her by the knee, close to his neck, forcing her open while he ate at her, licking and sucking and teasing her with kisses from her nub to her hole where his finger kept stretching her. He parted from her with a suckling pull at her folds that nearly hurt, then began kissing her inner thigh while he thrust his finger faster and faster, preparing her for what he was about to do.

“Why is it so difficult for you to accept being loved?” asked Sebastian, looking into her eyes. It didn’t even sound like a tease, it sounded as if he was… sad for her, and genuinely curious to know the answer. “You’re not afraid of me,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly, “not really… You’re afraid of being vulnerable. With me...”

She frowned at him angrily, and he could tell she was gritting her teeth from the clench of her jaw, but her eyes were so fearful and tender, spilling over with tears.

“You’re afraid of what will happen, aren’t you? When you allow yourself to be loved…”

She hissed a curse at him and tried to struggle more, turning her head away into her upper arm and hiding her face in it.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked, easing a second finger into her.

She ignored his question and gasped at being so stretched, her back arching sharply. His fingers were thick and strong, those two already larger than three of hers together.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asked lowly, his eyes never leaving her face even as she tried to hide it. “I won’t,” he growled. “I’m working right now to make sure I won’t hurt you.”

And he shoved his fingers deeper, working them faster into her channel, making her leak into his palm and filling the air around them with humiliating sounds. Her thighs trembled and she moaned, her voice hoarse and breathless. When Sebastian decided to cruelly curl his fingers and press against the soft spot above her entrance, she cried out.

“Sebastian!”

“I’m right here,” he whispered, kissing her thigh while his fingers worked her faster and faster. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t leave you,” he promised.

“Sebastian, s-stop,” she mumbled, “I can’t… I can’t…”

“Can’t what, hmm?” he teased, letting his tongue dip a little lower and rest against her button. With every canting of her hips, she rubbed herself against him.

“Seb—!”

He smiled and lowered his lips to her nub again and kissed it lovingly, reverently, while he thrust his fingers into her harder, louder, messier — until he felt her start to clench. She screamed and thrashed, begging him to stop. Her leg nearly slid out of his grip, but he kept his mouth on her and pleasured her until it ended. It hadn’t quite been an orgasm, more the beginning of one, a shock of pleasure that had taken her over for a few moments and scared her.

Sebastian moaned against her hot little flesh and carefully pulled his fingers out. Almost immediately, he wrapped his hand over his manhood, slathering it with her juices, squeezing it to temper himself. It had been hard this whole time, tickling his stomach, drooling all over itself with how much he desired her.

She relaxed, her tearful wet face falling away from the crook of her arm to look down at him. Her gaze was so hazy he wasn’t sure she knew what she was looking at. Sebastian slowly made his way up the bed, arms pressing down on the bed on either side of her, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he whispered hotly.

She bit her lip and took in deep, shaky breaths.

“Don’t what?” he said again. By this time, he was right above her, his lips hovering over her own. “What, darling?” he sighed, looking at her with nothing but love. His hands caressed her arms, rubbing them up and down. “How about we set you free, hmm?”

With a brush of his arm, the summoned tethers fell away. He caressed the soreness out of her wrists while he balanced himself above her, his knees on either side of her waist. Between them, his shaft twitched anxiously. His sac slotted itself right at the dip of her core. He smiled to himself at how warm and welcoming she felt down there, so wet he could feel her dampening him.

“W-will you let me go now?” she asked in a small voice.

Sebastian chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, that wasn’t enough.”

She groaned and began panting again, her body going from hot to cold with fear. Her arms slipped from Sebastian’s gentle massage and went up to his chest, trying at the same time to push him away and scratch him. His skin was tough, but he still hissed sharply when her little nails left pink welts on his skin.

“That’s it,” he growled, grabbing her wrists and holding them up. “Be good, now,” he said firmly, struggling with her on the bed, “be good for me…”

She grit her teeth at him and fought him all the way, her body weak and cold but more lively now that it was no longer dazed with pleasure. But she was no match for Sebastian, who was so much bigger and stronger, a dangerous man even without his wand. He held her wrists together and pushed her back on the bed, laying on top of her with all his weight.

“Let me go, please!”

“It’s alright,” he hissed, holding her wrists to her chest with one hand and brushing the hair from her forehead with the other. “It won’t be so bad, you’ll see…”

“Let me go, Sebas—!”

He kissed her into silence, swallowing her angry moans while he moved his legs between hers. His knees edged her thighs apart, and then he caressed down her side with his right hand until he reached her knee. He lifted it slightly so that he could fit even closer to her, and wrapped her leg around his waist, holding it there until he finished kissing her.

“I do love you, even when it doesn’t sound like it,” he sighed.

She frowned at him, but then she jumped in a little shock when she felt something hard and smooth against her core. Her lips parted, and she was ready to beg again — for a delay, for him to change his mind, for anything — but he kissed her again.

Sebastian closed his eyes as he drank in the sweet taste of her lips, dry and salty with tears as they were, swallowing her moans and pleas while he tried to find her hole. His hand left her leg to grab hold of himself and steady his twitching shaft.

“S-stop,” she muttered against his lips as she barely managed to twist her head away.

Sebastian’s mouth parted from her with a gasp when he felt her at his tip.

“It will be alright,” he whispered, his eyes aimed between their bodies. He couldn’t see much, but his heart thumped in his chest at the sight of his manhood, thick and throbbing, resting right at her entrance. “You’ll see, everything will be good…”

She didn’t seem to believe him, and instead struggled more and cried, and tried to pull herself away from him.

“Shhh…” he gentled her, frowning in his own kind of suffering as he eased the tip inside.

She cried and struggled in his grasp, screaming to be let go, crying again, thrashing on the bed, but Sebastian’s grip was strong even while he was so deliciously distracted.

“There you go,” he whispered, his head tilted back in pleasure as he felt her, he felt himself entering her. “There you go, that’s my good… good girl,” he moaned, biting his lip.

Sebastian let himself lay more heavily on top of her, curling his large body over hers. His forehead was braced against the pillow a little to the side so he could keep kissing her cheek while he worked to get as much of himself into her body as he could before he had to still himself. She was in pain, and as much as he wanted to take her, he had to wait.

She swallowed in greedy, deep breaths, the skin of her chest meeting Sebastian’s, parting in sweaty pulls after they stuck together. Her core still pulsed, struggling to contain the length that forced it open — and he'd barely shoved the whole head in.

They breathed together for long moments, her wincing occasionally, him moaning, both of their bodies aching for the other in ways that were obvious to the two of them -- she leaked around him, he leaked inside of her, easing the passage, helping her stretch, and their whole bodies were aflame even while so exposed in the cold air of the room. All the while, their hearts beat together, side by side.

Sebastian tried to slip a little more inside of her, pressing forward with his hips. His fist still held his member at her hole, keeping it steady as he pushed inside. He moaned and bit his lip at the warmth that met him.

“Aaah!” she cried, gritting her teeth as he conquered a little more of her. “S-seb—!”

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it, my beautiful girl, my love…”

He was relentless, and didn't stop until the whole head of his manhood slipped inside. Around his waist, he felt her legs tense for a moment, and then give up.

Feeling her so limp around him, Sebastian let go of her wrists and braced himself above her on his arms, his face right above hers pressing gentle kisses that swallowed each wince of pain. His member was securely in her core, fighting against the tight clenches of her channel.

“Open your secret place to me,” he breathed, his brown eyes pleadingly looking into hers. “Let me come inside of you…”

“No,” she hissed. She shook her head weakly, although she didn’t even remove her hands from where they rested above her head, where he had placed them.

Sebastian groaned and leaned down to take a tight little bud in his mouth, and she moaned. He smirked against her skin — he knew she’d like that. He suckled on it while he gently thrust his hips, feeling himself dripping into her, his shaft pulsing, trying everything to ease his taking of her. He switched to the other breast, holding her puckered flesh gently between his teeth to lave at it with his tongue. It made her a bit more wet, but hardly relaxed her core. She winced every time he tried to reach deeper inside.

“Try to relax, my darling,” he sighed, lifting himself off of her.

With a soft look at her, Sebastian eased out — what a shock the cold of the room was after having been inside her — and slid once more down to her waist. She hardly had a chance to glance down at him when he took hold of her thighs and placed his mouth at her core again.

“What are you—!”

He started lapping at her hole again, but so much more passionately this time, tongue slipping from the bottom of her slit to deep inside her hole and flicking upward before going down again, lashing her womanhood with quick, maddening strokes again and again and again until he felt her begin to pulse.

She moaned and wailed in pleasure, confused about what he was doing but too dazed to care.

When he thought he pleasured her enough that she was more relaxed, he raised himself, gripped her hips, and shoved his manhood into her once again. It went in a little deeper this time. Sebastian moaned and shivered when he felt her juices dripping down his shaft all the way to the nest of dark hair at his base, like she was slobbering all over him.

His arms tensed holding him above her, but she felt so good around him, softer and wetter and just as feverishly warm, hotter and hotter the deeper into her body that he reached. He grinned as he looked down at her.

“That’s it, there you go,” he whispered smugly.

He let himself lean down with one elbow bent around her head, cupping her gently, the other holding him at an angle so as not to lay too heavily on her. And as he worked his way inside her, thrust by small thrust, he pecked little kisses on her lips.

“Seb-bastian,” she gasped, looking tearfully into his eyes. “I… I…”

“What is it, my darling?” he whispered, his thumb reaching down to smooth her tense brow. “Hmm? What is happening? Do you like it?”

“It… mmmm…” She bit her lip and frowned, closing herself off to him again.

“What?” he asked again, “What is it? What do you feel? What am I making you feel?” he murmured, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

She winced and turned away, her forehead set in a frown and her lips parted as she breathed out heavily. “H-hurts,” she whimpered.

He couldn’t resist her, couldn’t resist wanting to comfort her. Sebastian groaned and stopped thrusting, letting his manhood just rest inside her. His thumb kept brushing against her hairline, trying to soothe her, and he kissed gently all over her cheek. With a steady sigh, he slid his hand down her body, caressing her soft stomach on its way, and quickly found that erect button above her entrance.

“Ah!” she yelped, her hips canting upward at his touch.

He smirked and kissed the corner of her mouth and began rubbing her pearl in tight circles. With satisfaction, he felt her begin to shiver in the same pleasant way she did when he was licking her. His hot chest rested over hers, rough hair rubbing her already tight and tender buds as they breathed in heavily together. And then he started rubbing her button faster, flicking it messily until she could no longer swallow her moans down and she pulsed and throbbed — and that’s when he tried again to shove himself deeper inside of her.

“—bastian!”

“Yes?” he chuckled teasingly against the corner of her mouth.

“No, t-that’s… aaah, too much,” she said, her back arching.

“What is it, my beauty?” he asked sweetly. “Hmm? What is it?”

“I… I… mmm…”

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, her head facing away again. Sebastian quieted his moans by kissing her neck, taking greedy mouthfuls of her flesh, but trying not to bite too hard.

“What are we doing? You and I?” he asked hotly, his closed eyes resting in the dip above her shoulders. “Tell me… Tell me what I’m doing to you…”

“Y-you’re…”

“Yes…”

“You’re… t-taking me,” she whispered with a choked little sob — and maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought she sounded pleasured by it.

He chuckled and reached up to kiss her lips, his fingers brushing her forehead gently.

“What am I doing, darling?” he asked again with fake innocence.

“You’re taking me,” she said quietly.

“And what are we doing together? What is it called?”

She whimpered, and he could hear her biting her lip. She couldn’t say it.

“Are we making love? Is that it, my darling?” he moaned.

“Sebastian…” she whispered, her voice full of defeat.

“I’m taking you,” he moaned. “And you’re taking me. Right here,” he moaned. “Right inside this little body…”

Sebastian looked down at her warmly and pressed his cheek against hers, rubbing her tears away with his skin while he kept pressing deeper.

“Right inside this naughty little hole that isn't used to being opened like this, is it? It's not used to it, is that right, my girl?”

He felt, more than heard, a moan bubble up her throat, and the movement of her head could have been a shiver, or it could have been a nod… Sebastian was entranced by the sight of her trying to take him, forced to submit to him, accepting — finally accepting — a bit of the pleasure he had to give her. But it wasn't enough for her, he could tell it wasn't nearly enough... It was his fault, he'd forced her, he'd scared her.

His finger had eased at her pearl, allowing her to focus just on the feeling of his length inside her, but she only clenched tighter — either from pain or fear or something else, he couldn’t tell. She was so tight now he could hardly move. Sebastian sighed.

“Let’s try it a little differently, my love,” he said, parting from her with one little kiss on her lips.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled his member out and lifted his sweaty body off hers for a moment. She breathed in deeply in relief, but then he cupped her hips and motioned her over, onto her front.

“W-what is this?” she asked in a tired voice.

“Something that might help you,” he smiled.

Sebastian brushed her hair away from the nape of her neck and kissed her skin while his fingers pet her sides. The bed felt worse this way, its rough springs almost digging through his flimsy mattress, but perhaps if she didn’t see him she might feel less nervous about the whole thing, and her body could accept him.

It was easy to move her, she hardly put up any resistance anymore. Sebastian set her on her knees and eased her down, holding her carefully and shushing her, until her chest lay flush against his pillow — and how delighted he was going to be from now on to rest his face on the pillow that her breasts had rubbed against. With his knees set on either side of her, he held his shaft in his hand and led it to her entrance again.

“Easy there, my love,” he cooed when he heard her wincing.

“Not again,” she whined, her hands clutching at the pillow in angry little fists.

“It will be alright…”

“No,” she complained, “I don’t want it… I don’t…”

It was harder to work his tip inside her this time, her hole opening and closing in such strong clenches that it got Sebastian to grit his teeth in frustration.

“You need to relax,” he said, one hand caressing her ribs, her chest, slipping down to cup her breast and hold it warmly.

She shook her head, forehead pressed into the pillow.

Hurriedly, almost angrily, Sebastian let her go and slid down the bed again, a growl crawling its way up his chest. While holding her hip with one sweaty palm and her ankle with the other, so that she wouldn’t kick him, he brought his face to her womanhood from behind. He stared at her clenching little hole, all red and sore and a little puffy, all his frustrations melting away at the sight. He brought his mouth down onto her again.

She yelped, she screamed, she twisted to look back at him in outrage, but he held her tightly and kept her there, to lick her pain again. It was quite different from his angle, but she felt that much more at his mercy this way, and Sebastian closed his eyes in delight. His tongue first came across her hard little nub then pet its way up it, as it were, from its plush hood to the erect tip and quickly falling into her throbbing hole. He curled his tongue until it met the edge of her entrance and he held it there, pushed in a little, easing it with loving and gentle licks, showing it how much he adored this part of her. He licked and licked and filled the air around them with messy, sticky sounds that scandalised her, but made her drip shamefully much on his tongue… Sebastian smirked and kept lapping and sucking, moaning right against her folds.

“You're so much sweeter when you're sore down here, did you know that?” he teased, speaking right against her most vulnerable place as he held her down, forced her still for him to pleasure. “You're dripping down my tongue... down my throat,” he moaned. “Like you're drooling from this little mouth,” Sebastian chuckled.

Vaguely, he could see that she had covered her head with both her arms while she moaned, hiding herself away from what he made her feel. He groaned as he laved at her.

When he felt satisfied that her womanhood was wet enough and pliant and sufficiently convinced of how much he cared for it, he got up on his knees again and settled firmly behind her. His member rested right between her folds, tapping against them — tensing up with every lustful twitch, then pulled back down by how heavy it was.

“Is it better now?” he whispered in her ear, penetrating her slowly.

She gasped and wailed into the pillow when the tip entered her again. She felt so exposed in this humiliating position, so vulnerable… It made her throb.

“Is it?” Sebastian asked again, his hot breath right against her neck. “Is it good for you like this?”

Steadily, holding himself to her hole, he pushed and pushed and groaned and pressed deeper until he was halfway in again, and then he rested his sweaty forehead on her back. His trembling hands gripped her around her waist as he steadied himself. Then, slowly, he moved one palm upwards to cup her breast before he began to pump his length inside of her.

“Mmm… that’s it,” he moaned, “you do feel better like this, don’t you?”

She said nothing, burying her tears in his pillow, together with her moans and whimpers and every embarrassing sound — both of pleasure and of shame. Sebastian was so hot against her back, his body broad and heavy and so firm, his skin tough but smooth, chest rough with hair, stomach flexing with each thrust, and the base of his manhood — so rugged it rubbed against her rear a little sore in a… not altogether unpleasant way, she blushed to admit.

Her traitorous womanhood opened for him, clenching hard then parting like a greedy mouth, and all it wanted was him — his shaft, thick and hot, leaking a sticky trail inside her with each shove. She felt him so deep she could almost taste him on her tongue.

When she started panting, rendered breathless from what he was doing to her, she tilted her head to the side — and now there was nothing left to hold back her moans.

“S—e—bas… aaah…”

“That’s it, my sweetheart,” he groaned.

His hand at her breast plucked her erect little bud, teasingly, moving sometimes to the other to not let it get too lonely, while around her waist his arm held her firmly against his front — as if he was constantly afraid that she could escape him.

“My darling, my lovely girl, my heart,” he rambled, pressing hisses against her shoulders and her neck and wherever on her back that he could reach, “my love, my one, my only…”

He groaned from the bottom of his chest when, with one long and stubborn thrust, he reached all the way inside her. She cried out and nearly burst into tears at the sensation.

“Sebastian!”

“Oh f— that’s…”

“Seb— it’s too deep!”

“Shhh, shhh,” he whispered against her hair, “easy… easy, that’s… oh, that’s… damn, that almost hurts me too, it’s so tight,” he laughed madly.

He stilled inside her, giving them both time to adjust, and slowly, she relaxed. It was as if the pain had pierced her and through her and left her behind with nothing but a feeling of... overwhelming fullness. She lay quite sapless on the bed, her hips held up only by his grasp around her middle. As Sebastian eased himself out a bit, she felt her core cling so tightly to his shaft that she nearly panicked for a moment, but then he shoved back in, and she sighed in relief and pleasure. It now almost felt like home to have him there… and she hated that she felt that way.

“Sebastian,” she groaned, pleading for… for something, she didn’t know what.

He cooed in a deep and breathless way, his lips against her ruffled hair, and he started to thrust slowly in and out. The hand around her waist relaxed enough for him to slip his finger lower, back on her abused nub, rubbing it again. Her hips jerked and she whined, but that didn’t stop him — just like nothing else did.

“You’re getting wetter for me,” he whispered hotly, “I can feel it… can feel it against… against my skin…”

With each thrust inwards, his heavy sac pressed against her folds. They throbbed right against it, kissing it in greeting. And then, he pressed himself even deeper, pushing her down, shoving her almost completely prone.

“My lovely girl,” he sighed, finally giving up on holding her upwards and letting her lay on her front while he pounded her into the bed. “My girl, all wet for me… taking me…”

Her blushing, tearful face was buried in the pillow again.

“Taking me while I’m taking you, isn’t that right?” he chuckled, resting his forehead on the nape of her neck.

Both his hands slid up her chest, each cupping a breast and holding it, letting her flesh rest in his hands while he shoved himself inside of her, pushing the breath out of her, harder and harder the more his manhood loosened her up. Every clenching of her was battered away, her channel opened up forcefully and held that way by his sheer girth. The heft and curve of his shaft aimed always his thrusts always slightly lower, against the soft spot above her entrance that made her way to cry.

“Seb—!” she gasped suddenly, raising her head from the pillow when the head of his member brushed against it.

“Yes? Is that good?” he moaned, hissing his way down her neck. “Is that good, my heart? Right there?” he teased, starting to deliberately beat away at that tender spot.

“Aaah! S-stop!”

“I don’t think so,” he groaned, “I’ll keep doing this to you until you give me what I want.”

“Please, Seb…”

“Until you give me what I want... and what you want to... Admit it... Admit it...”

“You’re mad,” she spat, sounding angry but being genuinely more afraid than anything.

She had never felt such an intensity of feeling aimed at her before, and it drove her to distraction that it would be kind and playful and bookish Sebastian who would give this to her.

But he didn’t seem to take kindly to the insult. With a growl through clenched teeth, he took his hands away from her breasts, one threading through her hair — gently, but threateningly — the other going to her stomach. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to do there, but then she felt it — he pressed slightly on her lower tummy, and right against her flesh, he felt himself.

“Do you realise how deep I am inside you?” he whispered angrily in her ear. “Do you understand… how much I love you? How much I… I want to be inside of you… With you…”

She tried to hide her face into her shoulders, her hands coming up to cover her head.

“And this is how you speak to me?” he continued. “Do you feel nothing for me?”

She didn’t wish to tell him yes — partly because she was afraid of how he would react, and partly because it wasn’t true. She did love him, had loved him for years, but this was not the sort of way she’d wished to be joined with him.

“Seb, you’re scaring me,” she whimpered.

He sighed and forced himself to ease his grip, softened as he usually was whenever she showed even a bit of vulnerability. But his thrusts only got harder, and his grip against her lower stomach stayed. He felt his tip press against her and into the cup of his hand with each pumping of his hips.

Beneath Sebastian’s lustful moans and the creaking of the bed, she could hear the humiliating sound of his flesh slapping into hers — his sac, churning with cum and dripping with her juices and his sweat, his hips, his thighs... She could smell his body too, salty and sweet and very distinctly sultry, devastatingly virile and male.

“I… I’m so…” he groaned nonsensically into her hair, “I could finish in you right now,” he threatened. She clenched at the promise. “Won’t you do it too, darling?” he murmured. “Please, I… I need it…”

“Never,” she bit back, and all around his shaft, he could feel her tightening rebelliously. She didn’t wish to be part of his experiment at all.

“I need it,” he said again, “more than you know… Come on, my love, my heart… I know you need it too. Tell me,” he panted, “how do you want to be pleasured?”

She kept quiet. Only little whimpers were pushed out of her by his heavy, deep thrusts.

“What do you need to make this little hole flutter for me?” he whispered.

Her legs tensed and her womb clenched. At her stomach, she felt his fingers begin to stroke a little up and down — stroking the head of his manhood with every inward thrust.

“What do you need? You need my love?” he said, kissing behind her ear. “My hatred?” he added, kissing her neck this time. “Anything… anything…”

“I want nothing from you,” she whimpered.

“You want my seed?” he asked — and that was it.

He felt her body clench, her little hole bubbling with cream in the areas where there was enough space for it to leak around him.

“Oh is that it?” he chuckled breathlessly, teasing her with a lick at the nape of her neck. “You want it? Hm? You want my seed inside this” — and he shoved especially hard — “little hole?”

“Sebas—!”

“You want me to make you pregnant?”

“Sebastian!”

“Want someone to breed you, is that it?”

She began struggling in his grasp, a last attempt to get away, because she knew what was coming. Sebastian wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against his thrusts that wouldn’t, wouldn’t stop. If anything, he started battering at her womanhood even harder now, sliding wetly in and out in spite of how much tighter she got.

“Oh, but my girl is naughty, isn’t she?” he growled with a wide grin.

When she kicked a little higher with her left leg, he grabbed that too and hugged it to her chest, opening her up helplessly as he claimed her.

Her hands held onto the pillow now no longer as a distraction, but out of need to hold onto something. She wailed and buried her high, frail cries into it.

“Let me love you,” he begged roughly as he shoved himself into her, his thick manhood scraping against her tender, clenching walls in a way that made her scream. “Come on, let me love you… Let me feed this little hole,” he hissed. “It’s been so lonely, hasn’t it? Nobody’s loved you before, have they?”

“Bastard!” came her muffled, angry cry.

“No, darling,” he sighed, pressing deep, deep into her and holding there, pushing her higher on the bed with the force of it, making her legs shake. His tip had reached her cervix. “No, darling, you love me,” he whispered right in her ear. “Like I love you. Do you feel that?” he asked, his hips holding his manhood deep and then thrusting a little more. “You feel your thick little lips down there kissing my balls?”

“Seb—!”

“I certainly feel it,” he moaned, grinding into her while he let his forehead rest against her back.

His arms tightened around her waist with her leg still trapped there, her hole stretched more vulnerably open than it had ever been.

“Feel it warm and wet, dripping all over it, drooling over me… You’ve been as desperate as I, haven’t you? So lonely… so unloved… You’ll never be unloved again,” he promised hotly, and then resumed his thrusts, but this time slow, tempered, hard, deep, battering against her cervix every time.

“Your womb will be full of my seed,” he breathed against her skin. “I’ll force it into you, you’ll have no choice, I promise that,” he whispered. “Hold you opened up, make your beautiful body swallow it…”

She whimpered and tried to crawl away before she realised there was nowhere to go. And behind her, Sebastian kept thrusting that shaft into her swollen channel, her muscles too weak to clench against his penetration anymore. She felt conquered and completely helpless.

“I’ll do it as often as you need it,” he said with a sweet, warm sigh, “I’ll make you all warm inside… Keep you safe. Keep you full of me…”

His thrusts started getting faster, less deep now but almost angry, almost desperate, and she wailed at the sensation because he rubbed against her spot with every thrust and it felt good, she hated how good it felt.

“And then it will take, won’t it? It will have to… I’ll breed you, I’ll get you pregnant… And everyone will see what I did to you,” he growled.

“Sebastian, please,” she moaned weakly, no longer having the strength to pretend he didn’t make her feel good. “Please, I… I need…” Her tearful eyes looked into his, dark brown and hazy, over her sweaty shoulder.

“Shhh, I know, I know, darling… ” he cooed. “Release for me, my love,” he whispered, his full lips coming to rest near hers. “Release for me, and I’ll release for you, alright?”

“Aaah…”

“It’s alright,” he said gently, kissing her. “It’s alright… stop thinking… Stop being afraid…” he coaxed. “Just let me love you, let me love you, take it… take it from me…”

She whimpered, and burst into tears. Her body shook in his grip, trembling not only from his powerful thrusts but from the pleasure that licked its way from her womanhood all through her chest and her limbs and her heart and her head… Sebastian’s hands around her tightened, and her hip almost hurt from how sharply her leg was held against her chest, but her core had never felt more satisfied, more perfectly content, more cared for and loved and wanted. He fed his manhood to it, and she was forced to take it, and she wanted — she realised with shame — she wanted his seed.

“Seb-bastian,” she sighed, sounding genuinely pleasured for the first time, completely surrendered to the pleasure both her body and his were giving her.

“That’s it,” he whispered encouragingly. Around her waist, she could feel his thumbs brush against whatever skin of hers he could reach to pet her, even as he held her flush against his chest and he thrust rough and hard down into her. “That’s it, my heart, there you are… I’ll give it to you, but you have to take it, alright?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, not knowing really what he was saying anymore, “yes, I… I…”

“You’ll have to take it, sweetheart, right in this tight, hot, secret little place of yours…”

“Sebastian!”

“I’m here,” he smiled, kissing her again on the lips — briefly, as each of his thrusts jolted her away from the reach of his mouth. “I’m here with you. I love you. I love you more than any—”

“Aaaah!”

“Oh, is that it, darling?”

“Aah! —bastian!”

“Is that it? Is your womb opening up for me?”

“Seb—! I feel… aaah…”

“Too much, my darling?” he grinned.

She nodded, eyes closed, mouth open in one long moan.

“I feel the little throat you have inside opening up for me?” he groaned, the head of his shaft pounding at her cervix. “Think I can get it inside?”

“No!” she cried.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, not wanting to hurt her, and knowing how small she was compared to him, but he teased her anyway but pressing deeper, aiming for that flexing opening. He bit his lip when he felt the tip of his member get lightly pinched by it.

She scrambled uselessly beneath him, her back arching into his sweaty chest, hips canting, and Sebastian kept thrusting into her. The little pearl that he’d teased earlier so much peeked out with interest, and his sac now met its tiny kiss each time it swung forward.

“Too much!” she wailed, her body tensing and relaxing and tensing again in the grip of some unfathomable wave of pleasure. “No more… no more, please!”

“Take it,” he groaned, “good girl, take it…”

And then that wave of pleasure crashed into her, and she screamed. Sebastian cried out too, a low and pained sound. He stilled his thrusts when he felt her core tighten around him. It gripped him as if she was going to swallow him whole, as if she wanted to drink everything he had to give — and he gave it to her, because at that very moment, his orgasm hit too, and his sac churned painfully and pushed his seed out of him in wave after thick, thick wave.

“Aaah! Oh f— my darling,” he moaned, hips twitching into her reflexively now, “my dearest… my love, my… ohh…”

He pressed grateful kisses into her neck and moaned out every endearment he could think of, and her name, and his promises to take care of her, to give her everything she deserved, to love her until the day he died…

She mewled weakly, too tired to cry out, too tired even to open her eyes. Her body had never gone through anything like that before, and as her pulses quieted and her core relaxed, Sebastian eased himself as deeply into her as he could. She could feel his seed pooling at the end of her, warm and heavy. Finally, he released her leg and let her relax fully on the bed, his own body laying for a moment on hers before he slid to the side, sapless.

She could feel and hear his heaving breath against her back, and beneath it, the frantic beating of her heart.

Sebastian kissed her shoulder one last time before he moved away, seemingly to get up. She then realised he had only retrieved that vial.

With great gentleness and care, he bent down to her core and stroked her lower back. She barely had the chance to look down at him, frowning, when she was struck by the humiliating feeling of his release and hers dripping out of her in big, pearly gushes.

“Oh,” she groaned, hiding her face away.

She didn’t see, but she could hear Sebastian chuckle.

“I know this part is a little awkward,” he said. “It… it isn’t how I wanted to end this, but…”

He stopped there, saying nothing else while he collected what he needed.

She sighed and pushed her sweaty face away from the pillow when she felt him part from her, his caressing hand stroking her leg gently one more time before he got up. She had new cause to blush when she peeked at his naked behind, firm and shining with sweat, and the length that could be seen swinging between his legs — still a little hard, still wet, tip blushing a raw, delicious colour. She felt sure a similar colour was blooming at her ravaged core, and she hid her face into the pillow again.

Sebastian’s hands were shaking. His sweaty skin felt the chill of the room more keenly now, especially after his chest had been so wonderfully warm from rubbing against her. He still had so much excitement and pleasure coursing through his veins that made him almost unsteady on his feet… But he had to see if this would work, he had to try to open the Casket.

He put one hand on its side and held the vial aloft with the other, its mouth poised just above the little orifice that would take the ‘key’.

He bit his lip to try and steady himself, and tilted the vial… The content was white and syrupy, and he blushed at seeing it. He had to wait for it to drip out… Once it reached the edge of the glass, it fell quickly, pulled down by its own heaviness right into the hole.

Sebastian held his breath as he waited, fearful for a moment that it had all gone wrong, that he’d been misled, that this had all been a terrible mistake… But not even a few seconds later, something happened. He felt a little tremor against his hand, as if something moved inside the Casket, and he pushed against the lid. Where many times before it had stood as firm as if the whole thing were one solid piece, this time, the lid slide away without resistance.

His eyes widened, and he started in quiet wonder at the open relic.

“Did it work?” she asked from the bed, her voice sleepy but still slightly interested.

Sebastian laughed, not able to take his eyes away from the inside of the Casket. It was supposed to provide its owner with whatever they needed at the time, and it certainly did that… Inside of it were two silver bands, one slightly smaller than the other, plain and unadorned, of exquisite purity: two engagement rings.

“It… it did,” said Sebastian with a bright smile.

Still, he wasn’t sure now was the right time to ask her… He felt a bit monstrous after what he'd done, and worse still for not regretting it. He was lucky that he got her to feel pleasure, to accept what he was doing, that he found the key to her lust — but it could just as easily have been the end of everything between the two of them, and he didn't know what he would have done if he'd lost her. How close he had come to that, due to his own mad desire for her, scared some sense into him now after everything was done. So he took the rings out of the Casket, quickly opened a little drawer on the side of his desk, and placed them inside.

He then walked back to the bed and joined her, squeezing himself beside her on the narrow mattress. She was hiding her face again, leaving him only her neck and shoulders to kiss.

“I apologise,” he sighed.

She mumbled.

“Do you hate me an awful lot?” he whispered with his lips against her nape. “You can tell me honestly…”

She said nothing.

“I did apologise, but I’m not sorry, just so you know,” he continued, his hand brushing the hair away from her shoulder in slow, long caresses. “I’m sorry it happened like this, but… I honestly can’t find it in me to regret it. I’ve wanted you for… a long, long time. I hope you know that. And it pained me how… how you always held yourself away.”

“Stop,” she whimpered, still facing away from him.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, the little of it that he could reach.

“I meant it, you know,” he whispered at the corner of her mouth. “I’d want nothing more than for us to have children together…”

“Sebastian, that’s—”

“I know you might not want it with me, or not at all, but… but I want it, I want it because it would be with you. But only with you.”

He sunk his face into her neck, hiding away from her rejection, hiding away from himself, but wanting all the while nothing other than to sink inside of her in every way — with his body, with his mind, with his heart. The sheets were a mess around them, half-fallen to the floor, and both she and Sebastian were sweaty and cold and messy with each other, and it was uncomfortable for both of them to lay that way together on a hard and narrow bed… But there was no safer, sweeter, better place in the world for Sebastian — nor for her, she quietly realised.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and curled his body around her from behind, seeking comfort in her. He had thought, those past few months, that he would get everything he wanted once he opened the Casket, but now he knew he could only find what he wanted in her.

She breathed deeply, accepting his embrace, and not knowing… what to say, how to confess to him what she, too, felt, even though she burned deeply with the need for him to know her, really know her, and how profound her love for him was. She lay quietly in his arms, her chest moving steadily up and down. And then, before he knew it, her hand came to rest on top of his own. Against the back of her neck, she felt Sebastian smile brightly, and she couldn’t help but smile too.

#sswallow;answers #Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow smut #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics

[qdbs-writes]

Do you write fem readers?!? 😭 If so can you write some head cannons about the Cullens with a goth s/o

i proudly write for all readers, nonny! and I'm gonna assume this about about trad!goth, but I'll try and make sure this applies to most goth subcultures!

Cullen Clan x Goth!Fem!S/O

Carlisle Cullen

He's confused but supportive. Back in his day, the term 'goth' only applied to the people who sacked Rome, which he'll remind you of regularly, especially if you're visiting the Volturi (who will also assume that you are directly connected to the ancient Goths, and would fear you as a result).

He'd be interested in your genealogy, because he thinks you're connection to the goth style can't be mere coincidence or personal choice, and it wouldn't be difficult to find out either, all he'd have to do is check if you have any Germanic ancestry from the last 2000 years.

Esme Cullen

If you're happy and comfortable, she's happy and comfortable. While it probably isn't her style personally, she's quick to see the benefits. For instance, black is a very easy colour to maintain, particularly with regards to cleaning.

Her only concern is getting you clothes other than black so that you can have something to wear to events that may require specific colours, like if you two are guests at a wedding (she wouldn't want you wearing black as it's bad luck for the couple).

Edward Cullen

Edward himself is basically a diet-corporate goth, so dating you will probably help him develop his own sense of comfort in the style.

The two of you are regularly seen brooding in the Forks CVS, loitering around the hair dye section, silently terrifying all of the elderly people waiting at the pharmacy.

Edward is likely already very familiar with goth music, has absolutely been to some Bauhaus concerts in his time, and probably has a respectable collection of gothic rock records in his room.

Rosalie Hale

It'll be like a Barbie/Oppenheimer-esque clash in aesthetics. I personally see Rosalie with a very Y2K aesthetic, so the two of you walking down the street together might turn some heads.

That doesn't mean that she isn't fully supportive of your style though, and appreciates the philosophy of the aesthetic, how it's a style built on defying expectations of conformity and obedience. In her short life, all Rosalie knew was to dress properly, smile, be open, happy, a willing host, an amusing guest. In death, she's proud to be herself, and even prouder to be with someone so comfortable with dressing exactly how they want, regardless of what others might think.

Emmett Cullen

You dress scary and Emmett loves it. He has regularly compared you to a venomous snake, your black clothes and aggressive makeup mean that almost everyone in Forks steers clear of you. But not Emmett, he's never had the survival instincts to stay away from things that could kill him, in fact, your "unapproachable" style only drew him in more.

Absolutely loves wandering around Forks with you, even if you aren't particularly doing anything. He thinks it's hilarious that some people cross the street to avoid you, it's like having 'scary dog' privileges.

Alice Cullen

She'd seen you in her visions for some time, but she almost didn't recognise you when you started dressing strangely and wearing heavy makeup. At first, it disturbed her, you looked like the sleep-paralysis demons that used to haunt her in the asylum.

Once she gets the chance to meet you in real life, that fear quickly subsides. Through your relationship, Alice learns how much of a safe space goth society can be, and that she can rely on other goths to not be judgemental towards her like so many others are.

Jasper Hale

Greatly appreciates the Victorian-era elements that are incorporated into your clothes, it helps him feel less old. You'll make his day if you show any interest in his clothes and jewellery that he had in life, particularly the more morbid pieces (such as the ring made out of his mother's hair).

If you're looking particularly historical, he'll love to get in his original clothes from when he was alive (except the ""uniform"" that shan't be mentioned), and stroll about Forks with you, arm in arm, like a true Southern gentleman.

#twilight saga #twilight saga headcanons #twilight sage imagine #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #rosalie hale #rosalie hale x reader #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #alice cullen #alice cullen x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #cullen clan #cullen clan x reader #qdbs writes #esme cullen #esme cullen x reader

[ddollfface]

is it possible for you to expand on the alphabet ‘H’ for yandere!athlete? I’m just curious to see the full extent of his punishment when he ‘snaps’. You don’t have to. This is my first ask so I’m just curious

— 🐏 anon

𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"I'm not feeling myself today, so it's alright if I feel you instead?"

Trigger Warnings; bad writing, lovesick behavior, manipulation, toxic relationship, love bombing, reader is called 'girlfriend', fake emotional cheating (it'll make more sense later), um I think that's it, pretty tame ngl, honestly it's shorter than my usual posts sorry(( If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ You are now 🐏!Nonny! Congratulations, you now have your own tag! I hope this is up to your standards... I kind of went on a tiny, just a tiny tangent, but what's new lol

Okay, ngl, I've been waiting for someone to ask about this, so thank you 🐏!Nonny for asking)))

Now, to the question. I would like to preface that it would be very, very, very difficult to make LoveSick!Athlete 'snap', seeing as he's a very patient person, especially with those he's close to. Growing up, he had to be patient and easygoing. He was the oldest of his siblings, so he had to be responsible; had to step up as a father figure for his younger siblings, as he never had a real dad.

He's very soft with you, always speaking kindly, and never letting his anger or annoyance get a hold of him. He wants to be the best for you, truly, but there are just some things that make people... y'know snap. Even for people like LoveSick!Athlete, who has the patience of a saint.

So, now that we know this, we have to think of a scenario of when and why you'd ever push LoveSick!Athlete over the edge; what would've you said to make him that angry?

It'd probably be something along the lines of questioning either his loyalty to you, or the caliber of his love for you, and how much he provides for you. You'd have to take away his purpose and smush it; dragging it through the mud, and spit on it. Now, that would get him going. There's one thing that LoveSick!Athlete hates, and that's someone who's ungrateful.

He's done so, so, so much for you, can't you see?

It would've started from an argument, likely you bringing up how he seems too receptive to other girls on campus, too willing with their antics. And that just didn't sit right with you. You didn't like your boyfriend, in this scenario, hanging around with girls, who you thought to be very, very, very pretty.

Of course, LoveSick!Athlete thought this to be insane, something he hadn't even thought about. Ever since the two of you started dating, he hasn't even looked at a girl, let alone thought about sleeping with one. How could you even say that?

In this scenario, I can see LoveSick!Athlete being petty and becoming flirtatious with other girls just to show you that his behavior before was nothing. If you thought that was flirtatious, then wait until you see him now. Instead of pushing the girls to the side, excusing himself before they could corner him, now he's looking the girls up and down, giving them a little smirk, leading them on. He might even set a hand on their lower back, leading them through the party, maybe even kiss her on the cheek, if you've been rather ungrateful.

Now, LoveSick!Athlete isn't enjoying this, after all, you're his one and only, but you have to learn your lesson. You have to understand that he's been so kind to you, so appreciative of your relationship. Don't you understand? He doesn't like doing this; it's a punishment.

You, seeing all of this, would obviously be distraught. You'd feel so, so, so betrayed. Where had your sweet, loving boyfriend gone? Why was he replaced by some sleazy womanizer? You'd be both sad and pissed the fuck off. You wanted him to tone it down, not multiply it by one hundred!

No matter what, even if you're angry as hell, you'll end up in LoveSick!Athlete's arms, hugging him tightly. He'll find a way to sweet talk you back to him, telling you that you're his only one, that he's just showing you that it wasn't that bad. He'll explain his public image to you; he's gotta stay on top of it, surely you understand, babe? I have no interest in those girls. They're just thinking with what's between their legs. You have to trust me.

Now, that's if you question his loyalty to you, but if you question how much he loves you (which is kinda of related to loyalty, but just ignore that), then you'll face a different type of manipulation. Mans got a whole tool belt on him (I've been waiting to say that lol).

Questioning how much he values you, your affections, your words, and your presence, will lead to love bombing. And for those who don't know what love bombing is, it's a manipulation tactic where the manipulator will use excessive affection to make their victim depend on them for love, believing that they'll only be valued by the manipulator.

LoveSick!Athlete is very familiar with this form of love since he grew up with a mama who has bipolar disorder-

(To be clear, I don't mean to say that everyone with bipolar disorder is a mass manipulator or anything. In certain people, especially mamas who are juggling an abusive marriage, two children, and postpartum all at once, it can be a lot and lead to bad behaviors. Just wanted to say that as someone who deals with a mama with bipolar disorder)

-Now, as a young adult, he's grown the habit of absentmindedly using manipulation tactics to get what he wants. It'll all start with a small argument, you'll question his lover for you, if he even cares for you. After all, he seems to be more attentive over his image than you, his girlfriend!

And all LoveSick!Athlete will do is smile at you, saying that he understands your concerns and that he'll do better. Obviously, this will confuse the hell out of you. Who responds to an argument like that? Certainly, no man you've ever dated!

Even if he doesn't realize it, he'll begin to show excessive amounts of affection after the argument. He'll constantly be giving you hugs, clinging onto you like a leach, and spamming you with messages/calls. You'll grow accustomed to the overbearing affections, allowing it to become a part of your daily life, but the moment you're used to it, he'll rip it away.

Suddenly, it's as if you don't even exist, like you're just another girl to him. Of course, he'll acknowledge you as his girlfriend, but he's no longer touching you. He's not hugging you, having an arm wrapped around you waist, nor is he holding your hand in public. It's as if he's embarrassed about your relationship. You'll begin to think that LoveSick!Athlete is cheating on you (he's not).

And this sudden behavior change is so delayed that you won't even relate it to your argument, thinking that it was a whole separate issue. And LoveSick!Athlete won't realize it either; it's just subconcious decision he made without knowing.

At some point, you'll come crawling back to him, desperately wanting the affection you used to be overwhelmed by. Of course, LoveSick!Athlete will be overjoyed, welcoming your upfront behavior with open arms. To you, this is like whiplash. Just a few days ago, he was off-putting, giving you the cold shoulder, and now he's leaning on you as if he can't stand himself, what the hell is going on?

And that's when you realize that you're not dating the most... stable individual...

Not to mention what he let his teammates do to you... but that's for another ask, yeah?

#lovesick!athlete x reader #bad writing #lovesick #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #x reader #obsessive love #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #🐏!𝙉𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙮 #request #nonny asks

[melodygatesauthor]

Hii!! Happy early birthday <3 I hope im not too late. Its still march 12th on my side lol

Could i please request an f reader with steven grant and the prompt “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

A Big Mistake

Steven Grant X f!Reader

Hi Nonnie! Idk why but I pictured brat tamer! Steven when I came up with this drabble. I hope you liked it!

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, brat tamer Steven, orgasm delay, cock warming, creampie, p in v, meanie Steven.

Word Count: 659

It was clear now that you’d made a huge mistake in underestimating sweet little Steven’s knack for brat taming. When you mocked him after a hard day at work, and he told you to watch your tone (in a not so playful way), you didn’t think the eye roll that followed would land you in the position you found yourself in shortly after.

Steven was sitting at the foot of the bed, with you sheathing his erection deep in your slick channel, back leaning against his heaving chest, completely dependent on him for any small bit of friction. Your legs were hanging on either side of his thighs, unable to reach the ground. If he didn’t thrust into you, then you weren’t going to get any of the stimulation that you so desperately craved.

He had one large hand around your delicate throat, and the other was between your legs, two thick fingers just barely brushing against your sensitive clit.

“Steven, please.” You begged with a needy whine to follow, “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, love, it's only been a minute. I need to make sure you learned your lesson, yeah?” He was breathing heavily in your ear.

You nodded, “yeah, yes.”

You sounded so pathetic, not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting Steven to believe that you were sincerely apologetic for the way you mocked and sassed him earlier. You were so wet. Your entire body was sensitive under his touch, all you needed was for him to move…even just a little.

“Good, that’s real good darling.” He hummed while his cock pulsated softly inside of you. “You really think you’re something don’t you? Rolling your eyes at me like that.”

“It was dumb. Mm, shouldn’t have done that to you, I’m so sorry.” You shifted your hips, he gripped you tighter.

Even just that little bit felt so fucking good. You whimpered, feeling so helpless and aching with your dripping arousal. Everything underneath you was so slick. You were shocked he didn’t just slide out.

“That’s enough, I told you to stay still. I can get myself off just thinking about you…” his cock throbbed as though to prove his point, “if you want to be rewarded you’d better behave, right?” You’d never heard Steven’s tone so dark.

“Y-yes.”

“Right, I know you can be good f’me.”

Steven let out a moaning growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. He moved his fingers around your clit, not enough to achieve your release, but enough to make your desire grow. You let out a groan, one that compelled Steven to kiss the soft skin of your neck. You felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“Not gonna have you actin’ like that anymore, like a little brat. I put up with enough shit at work, not gonna have you doing it too yeah?”

You gasped as he started moving faster, “yeah, yes anything you want Steven I’ll do it I promise. I’ll be good.”

“Thought so.” He started churning his hips, the head of his cock rubbed against a spot deep inside you that brought you to the brink within seconds. “You’re lucky it was me you did that to, Jake and Marc wouldn’t have been so forgiving love.”

“Thank you, baby, thank you so much.” You were almost in tears. It felt so good.

“Next time I won’t be so nice, go ahead and let go for me, wanna feel it.” His cock hardened and stilled while he started painting your walls white.

Steven’s moan was rough against your ear. That’s all you needed to reach your own orgasm. Between his dexterous fingers working over your clit, and his thick cock sliding upward into you, you were trembling over him, cunt crashing around his girth in waves. He kissed and licked your neck while you nearly screamed from the sensations coursing through you.

You’d do your best not to upset Steven ever again.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

#steven grant fiction #steven grant headcanon #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant smut #moon knight drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Before I Met Angels - Pt 1 - Then...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester arrived on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a ghost-free future. Playing pretend love interest left you both with something a little more lingering than the ghost.

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was born of a Nonny request for some oral smut and some insecurity/comfort (which is Part 2) but I couldn't not write the back story so here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Canon-typical action/adventure, talk of ghosts and dead people, canon typical violence, profanity, some sexual tension, kissing, and a bit of softness.

***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***

Dean Winchester had been in your house for over two weeks now, having arrived on your doorstep with his brother Sam after a handful of men in your town had mysteriously died.  It had started a little over two years ago with your boyfriend, Danny, who had died of a heart attack moments before you were going to sleep together for the first time.  Six months ago, other men who you had started dating or who had asked you out started dying as well, their hearts exploded in their chests.

When Dean showed up, it was in a cheap suit and an FBI badge, and the promise of a future without whatever was plaguing you.  It quickly became apparent that he and Sam weren’t really FBI when they started laying lines of salt around your house and carrying your old fire poker or your cast iron skillet around with them.  With talk of ghosts and other supernatural things, you learned that the Winchester brothers were hunters of those things that went bump in the night, guardian angels, if you will, for all who were afflicted by such things.

“I’m no guardian angel, sweetheart.  I’ve met some of ‘em though.”  He replied when you said this to him.   “They’re assholes, lemme tell ya.”

You had laughed but the concept of angels existing wasn’t something you had been prepared for.  But really, how could you be prepared for any of this?

Over the course of the first few days, Dean and Sam staked out your house, taking readings with a strange whining piece of equipment that Sam explained read ghost energy.  The prognosis: your house was haunted, but the ghost remained elusive.

“Maybe it only goes after people I want to be romantic with?”  You fielded, after a discussion about the house’s history.  “You said yourselves that all of the people who died of that exploding heart thing had been people I’d been dating or about to date.”

“You could have a point,” Sam said thoughtfully.  “So we just need to replicate that scenario.”

“You saying I got to get frisky up in here?”  Dean quizzed and you blushed, feeling awkward about suggesting he do something he clearly wouldn’t enjoy.

“I mean, I could…”  Sam began to offer but Dean carried on talking.

“Alright, I got this.”  He nodded at you with a smirk that you couldn’t read at all.  “Let’s get this done.”

He decided that snuggling on the couch would be a good start and see if that prompted the ghost to appear.  The first day, nothing happened, but Dean came back every evening and tried again.  Each night he and Sam came back around sunset and you made them dinner.  Each night Dean would sit back on the sofa with his arm around you and you would snuggle into him as you watched TV; Dr Sexy was his favourite show.  Sam waited either in the car or in a room upstairs as if he was a guest.

Gradually you two settled into a routine where small gestures of affection began to creep into your behaviours:  Dean would stroke his hand down your back to settle on your hip as he passed you in the kitchen, and you would absently touch his forearm when you spoke to him.  It only took a couple of days, but you completely fell under his spell – fake though your interactions were supposed to be.

You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, he was way beyond anything in your league but every time he touched you he lit a fire in you.  Every soft smile, every glance, every time he held you against him on the couch at night was fuel for that fire.  He seemed to enjoy your company but he was just doing his job, simply acting out a role to bring an end to the whole haunting thing.  The haunting thing that didn’t seem to be happening, or so you thought until last night.

Curled up on the couch with Dean for what was the twelfth night in a row, you had started to fall asleep with his arm draped around you, his fingers drawing abstract patterns on the skin of your arm.

“This doesn’t seem to be working,” he said after the re-run of Dr Sexy had finished.  “I think maybe we need to kick things up a gear.  Whadd’ya say?”

You didn’t know what he had in mind but you were a little drowsy and so far in over your head that you simply nodded, receiving a bright grin as a reply.

“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?”  He whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against you as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent just below your ear.  “Mmmm, you smell fantastic.”  He spoke at normal volume, clearly this was a show to get the ghost to present itself.

You sighed as he kissed your neck, and when his hand snuck under the hem of your top you stiffened, pushing a hand against his chest as if to stop him.

“Relax, sweetheart.  I’ll be good to you, I promise.”

You stroked his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath and wondered how his skin felt.  When your fingers slipped under his shirt and danced across his bare abs he inhaled sharply, pulling back from his attention on your neck to look at you.

There was a hunger there in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss you.  You sighed as his lips met yours, so deeply absorbed in how he made you feel that you didn’t realise the temperature in the room was falling.  His tongue slipped into your mouth and he cupped your face to kiss you properly.  You moaned deeply, succumbing to the heat pooling down in your core.  It was so easy to believe this was real.

“Atta girl,” he whispered when he pulled back.  “You’re doing so well.”

“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”  You practically mewled.

“Well I’m going to do it one more time and then I’m going to ask you to follow me, okay?”

Anywhere.  You nodded as he pulled you to your feet and cradled your face in his hands.  His second kiss was consuming but still slow and measured.  He stroked his hands down your sides and up under your shirt, stroking the skin of your waist and back, and pulling you tight against him.

“I wanna have you so bad,” he said, breathless, resting his forehead on yours but very aware of the changes in the room.  “To be continued….”  He whispered, leading you up the stairs to the guest room where Sam was hiding.

“Dean!”  Sam yelled.  “Hurry it up.”

“I know, Sammy!”  He yelled back.  “We’re on our way.”

The air was charged with static.  You could feel it bristling the hairs on your skin like a bad thunder storm about to happen.  Ahead of you on the stairs, you saw Dean’s rear as he led you quickly by the hand.  Glancing behind, you saw a glitchy shape of a man which bore the face of your dead boyfriend, Danny.

“Danny?”  You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“It’s the dead boyfriend!”  Dean said to Sam as you both crossed the salted threshold of the guest bedroom.

“I thought he was killed by the ghost first.”

“So did we.”  Sam said with a frown, looking at Dean in confusion.  “And he was cremated already so what the hell are we gonna do now?”

Dean turned you to face him, tearing your eyes away from the ghost that waited on the far side of the salt boundary.

“Do you have anything of his that could be tying him to this plane?  Lock of hair?  Blood stain somewhere maybe?”

“I don’t know,  Maybe.”  You wracked your brain for anything you had kept of his.  “He gave me a locket early on in our relationship that I never really wore, but after he died I couldn’t just throw it away.  He said it was a keepsake but it’s just got a photo of us in it.”

“That’s got to be it.”  Sam said.  “Where is it?”

“In my bedroom.  Jewellery box.”

“I’ll get it,” Sam rushed to the door, “he’s after Dean, not me.”

Once Sam crossed the salt with his iron fire poker, Danny’s ghost attacked.  It knocked Sam against the wall, hard, and sent him skidding back into the room.  The line of salt was broken and Danny’s ghost came for Dean.

“Goddamnit!  You need to get outa here” Dean said, brows raised, almost begging.

“But he’s going to kill you.”

Maybe if you could reason with Danny, he would just leave.  Maybe if you asked him to move on to wherever ghosts went, that he would see you were ok without him.

“He’s gonna try.”  Dean scooped up his shotgun, pumped it and stepped up beside you.

“Danny, please listen to me.”  You tried to reason with the spirit of your dead boyfriend.  “You don’t need to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

The ghost advanced, paying little heed to anyone except Dean.  His eyes, so filled with malice and hatred, never left the hunter.  For a second, you thought maybe you could stand between them and be safe but the closer the spectre got, the more you realised that he was too far gone.  Unreachable.

“Run!”  Dean pushed you aside and lifted the shotgun, aiming it right at Danny’s chest.

You backed up against the wall and skirted along it as Danny advanced on Dean.  You had to find the locket, but what were you supposed to do with it when you had it?

In your room, you fumbled with the clasp on your jewellry box, dropping the box on the floor.  Chains and earrings spilled out, jumbling up together, snagging into a knot as you tried to pull Danny’s locket free.

The booming sound of the shotgun was deafening.  It was so loud you felt it in your chest cavity and the shock of it made you feel dizzy.  Dean could be heard goading the ghost, taunting it to come and get him before the gun went off again.

In the doorway, Sam appeared looking a little worse for wear.  You held the jumble of gold and silver up to him, panicked that you couldn’t separate them.

“What do I do?”

“We have to burn it.”

“I can’t separate them.”

“Then we burn it all.”

Sam snatched up the metal trashcan and you dumped the twisted clump on top of the paper.  A generous squirt of fuel and a book of matches later and the whole can was ablaze.

Danny’s ghost appeared, in flame, moving towards you as if to claim you but Sam pulled you out of the way as the last of the flames consumed the spirit, leaving behind whisps of smoke.

Dean was sat on the floor of the guest room, bruised and bashed but very much alive.  He gave you a grateful smile and a nod as he got his breath back.  When he stood he hugged you, rubbing both of your arms to soothe you, and kissed the top of your head.

“I think we got him,” Dean said as he stood on your porch ready to head back to the motel for the night.  “But if it’s alright with you, I wanna do one more night to make sure we haven’t missed anything.  Tomorrow?”

You had thought you would never see him again once your haunting was taken care of, but when presented with an opportunity to spend one more evening cuddling Dean Winchester, how could you refuse.  The thought of being alone that night was overwhelming but you felt pathetic asking him and Sam to stay with you.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you smiled weakly, hoping you didn’t seem too needy or too eager to have his hands on you again.  When he had kissed you, it had made you burn with desire for him, and now you couldn’t let go of that heat.  The memory of ‘to be continued’ played whirligig in your stomach.

“Alright, sweetheart.  We’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Dean stepped off the porch and down into your yard before you crumbled under the weight of your emotions.

“Wait!”

He and Sam stopped and turned, Dean looking at you with worry, Sam with sympathy.

“Would you stay with me tonight?”  You felt embarrassed to ask, but the words were out now.  “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dean shuffled his feet, looking at Sam somewhat awkwardly before returning his gaze to you.  His smile was strained, as if he didn’t know how to let you down gently.

“Tell you what,” Sam cut the silence, “I’ve got some research to do anyway, and we missed a call from Jodie, so I’ll head back to the motel and I’ll swing back around tomorrow and pick you up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Dean patted Sam’s shoulder and followed you back into the house where you both settled on the couch as was your routine.

The sound of the TV blended into the background, secondary to the steady but quick thu-thump of your own heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears.  The couch was soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you were partially wrapped around.

Dean looked down at you, catching you looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

“If you keep lookin’ at me that way, that ‘to be continued’ is gonna happen a lot sooner that you think.”  He said with a cocksure smirk.

You grinned, reaching up to slide your fingers over the stubble of his cheek, guiding him so you could lay your lips on his.

Dean sighed through his nose as he delved into your kiss, his arms slipping around you to hold you tight against him.

Whatever chemistry you two had generated over the past couple of weeks was sure to fizzle out once you’d both gotten it out of your systems.  Him acting like he was interested in you, all the affectionate touches he had coached himself to give during that time, the closeness you both had engineered over that time.  It was all bound to drain away, but in the meantime you closed your eyes and succumbed to the desire burning in your chest that told you to have him while you could.

And as Dean sunk himself into you on the soft couch with the TV playing Dr Sexy in the background, you didn’t care if it was just one time, you didn’t care if he would be gone tomorrow, or the next day.  As he sighed your name and made you feel amazing, you knew you would keep this memory forever.  The night you loved your guardian angel.

Read Part Two...?

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus!reader #dean winchester x plus reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester on the hunt #cloudy's writing #dean x reader

[lilacwisps]

Do you take NSFW requests? How about some cockwarming headcanons for Ominis, Garreth and Sebastian? Obviously, when everyone's of age so like 7th year or smth.

There's a word for that? Live and learn I guess lol. Here you go, nonnie 💜 (under cut because of smut, but not super explicit)

Sebastian: 

Sebastian will be the one to bring up the idea to MC. Where did he learn about it? The late-night discussions in the seventh-year Slytherin boys' dorm - always conducted in hushed whispers because Ominis needs his beauty sleep and will absolutely end them all if he's woken up and has to listen to some filth - can be quite educational. 

He's excited by the idea - he and MC have been lovers for a while, but something about this feels almost naughtier than sex, which certainly piques his interest. 

"Are you sure you are up for it?" MC chuckles when Sebastian proposes it as things get rather heated between them as they make out on the couch in the Room of Requirements, 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that sometimes, when it comes to these things, you don't know how to stop," MC laughs, drawing him in for a kiss. 

"Oh, I do know how to stop," Sebastian replies, reveling in the gasp that escapes her lips when he pushes in. 

It's more than he'd bargained for, Sebastian realizes almost right away - MC feels dizzyingly good, pressed so close to him, so warm, so soft, so wet that he's almost instantly undone and has to bite the inside of his cheek to bring himself back from the edge. No, he will not give MC the satisfaction of being correct.

Despite his resolve, heat pools mercilessly in his lower stomach and churns his insides, making him desperate for friction. 

"Struggling already?" MC smiles. 

"Not at all," Sebastian replies, digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from grasping at her hips and moving. Though MC acts almost unaffected, Sebastian can see bright blush spreading on her face and clings to it as though it's his saving grace. He will not be the first one to give in.

It's the most delicious kind of torture, being sheathed inside her like that - and, despite his resolve, Sebastian can hardly handle it any longer. His breath grows ragged, and he can barely hold back a groan when she shifts ever so slightly as she's pushing hair out of her face. 

It's far too much and desperately not enough, all at the same time, and when MC leans in to press a light kiss to his lips, it's almost enough to make him beg for her to move. 

 She deepens the kiss - and that's enough to push Sebastian over the edge. Before he can even think, his hands are on her hips, and he's moving in desperate search of the friction he desires. MC chuckles against his lips, but then he kisses her deeply, ardently, silencing the sound. 

The blindingly bright release finds them both quickly - as they struggle to catch their breaths, MC looks at Sebastian and smiles, "Told you you don't know how to stop."

"You didn't seem to mind too much just moments ago," Sebastian replies before conceding, "But, perhaps, I could use more practice."

"That could be arranged."

Ominis: 

MC's the one who brings up the idea to Ominis, and he gets very flushed and flustered when he hears the suggestion. 

They've made love many times before, but MC's idea somehow sounds almost more indecent - yet Ominis would be lying if he said it doesn't get him intrigued and excited, at least a little bit. 

The excitement alone would not be enough to get through his embarrassment, however - he'll need a drink or two of firewhiskey to calm down his nerves. 

His worries are in vain - when they start, it's soft and slow and sweet, and as he slides inside, he's overwhelmed by MC's warmth and softness. The feeling of her body pressed against his as she settles on his lap, of him buried so deep inside her, makes Ominis's heart flutter as bright blush blooms on his face. 

The moment feels so delightfully, so oddly intimate, and Ominis wonders how they've never done this before.

"You could keep reading the book from earlier," MC breathes in his ear, "I heard it could be fun to try and do this and not get distracted."

"Unlike some people, I know my limit," Ominis chuckles, heat spreading through his body and pooling in his lower stomach. He could not read right now, even if he wanted to - there are hardly any lucid thoughts left in his head, his entire being consumed with how MC's body feels against his. 

Ominis leans in and kisses MC, reveling in the way his senses are filled with her. Her lips are soft and eager under his mouth, and the tiny gasp she makes when Ominis deepens the kiss sends a jolt of electricity through his very core. 

He knows he's not supposed to move - and he doesn't, for a time. Slowly, warm pressure unspools in his lower stomach, making him needy, desperate for more. As MC shifts a little in his lap, he cannot contain a whimper. 

When MC kisses him again, he cannot resist and moves ever so slightly against her without ever breaking the kiss. She doesn't seem to mind if the way she gasps against his mouth is anything to go by. 

"If we move a little bit, that doesn't count, right?" he chuckles as MC's fingers dig into his shoulders when he grinds himself into her. 

"I won't tell if you won't," MC laughs, drawing him in for another kiss. 

It doesn't take long till they cannot hold back anymore, moving against each other in earnest in desperate search of their pleasure, filling the room with ragged breaths and quiet whimpers. 

What follows is a burning pleasure so sharp it leaves Ominis breathless - he feels so light, his head delightfully dizzy and empty. MC's curled against him, still on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, trying to catch her breath. 

"That was fun," Ominis says, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of her head. 

"Was it, now?" MC chuckles, "Someone really needs to work on his self-control - couldn't be still even if his life depended on it."

"Do I now?" Ominis smiles, "Well then, it's a good thing the night's still young."

Garreth: 

Garreth's a little surprised when MC brings up the idea to him as he's never done that before, but he's eager to please, so he'll be more than happy to try something she wants. 

He's a little worried - MC's hold on him is nothing short of magic, and the ease with which she can make him unravel is remarkable - so he isn't sure how long he'll be able to remain as still as she'd asked, but he'll try his best. 

"Someone's looking serious," MC laughs, kissing him as she settles in his lap. 

"I'm just trying to focus," Garreth responds, resting his hands on her hips, steadying her against him, "You are so beautiful and feel so good, so this won't be easy."

"Aren't you the sweetest," MC chuckles, the sound turning into a gasp as he pushes into her, and Garreth's head spins, leaving him delightfully dizzy. 

It feels so good - she's so warm and soft and tight, and it is as though his blood is on fire. He watches a bright blush spill across his cheek, and a hot wave of desire coils tightly in his lower stomach, but he'd promised her he wouldn't move. 

He leans in to kiss her, drawing a soft whimper from her lips as he shifts ever so slightly forward, and that sound alone is almost enough to bring upon his undoing. 

An overwhelming, burning feeling uncoils in his chest, and Garreth knows he needs a distraction. Something, anything else to focus on besides the overwhelming heat and softness he feels, sheathed so deep inside her. 

Without thinking, he reaches forward, drawing MC in for another kiss as he runs his hands down her sides to her hips, then lower, touching her just as he knows she likes. Perhaps, if he concentrated on making MC feel good, he could ignore the way heat pools in his lower belly, almost delightfully painful. 

His plan works - and it doesn't. The sounds MC makes as he kisses and touches her spill liquid fire through his veins, making his head feel hazy. She shifts lightly against him, arching her back as he presses his lips into her shoulder to hide his own moan. 

She gasps his name as she comes undone, and the sight of her, the sound of his name on her lips, is enough to push Garreth over the edge as well. 

His mind feels hazy and so delightfully empty that Garreth wonders if he'll ever have a coherent thought again. He wraps his arms around MC, pulling her closer and letting her rest on his chest. 

"You know," she says, her gaze a little dazed as she rests her chin on her palm, "That was against the rules - I expected better from a Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry," Garreth mumbles, kissing her forehead, "How can I make it up to you?"

"You could...do that again."

He's more than happy to oblige. 

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc

[sugarandspisces-writes]

for a possible suggestion/request: reader is being silly and teasing melissa, melissa gets playfully annoyed and threatens to "get" the reader; reader sees it as an empty threat because melissa would never hurt her and cheekily pushes her buttons further, which ultimately results in the reader losing a very one-sided tickle fight 😭❤️ (though perhaps still "winning" to the reader because 1) physical affection and 2) they got melissa to be silly with them too 🫠🫶🥹)

Speaking From the Heart Pt. II

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa is trying to get some work done, and r just wants her attention

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie. I hope I did your idea justice!

P.S. I'm just now realizing that I already wrote a physical touch headcanon. Oops. But this one is cute and fluffy and silly and I loved writing it. I hope you all enjoy reading it. Okie bye!! <3

Physical Touch

You were big on physical affection and luckily so was Melissa. It took some time for you to figure it out, but she was a huge softie. At any given moment, Melissa was likely to display her affection through touch. She was observant and enjoyed learning all the things that made you melt. At home, you loved when she would wrap her arms around you and place kisses on your neck. In public, she would be discreet with her actions, but she still made sure her adoration was evident. If you were walking side by side she would link your pinkies together. If you were in an unfamiliar place, she would place a hand on your lower back and guide you around. She always made you feel utterly safe and cared for, and while you appreciated the heartfelt gestures, you liked to have a little fun every now and again.

✦ ✦ ✦

The steady pitter-patter of rain held your attention as you sat on the couch. You watched the raindrops as they hit the window and made their descent to the ground. Sometimes one droplet became two, creating a large bead that would race down the pane faster than your eyes could keep up. The light rapping of precipitation on the roof was soothing and almost relaxing enough to make you fall asleep.

There was just one thing missing: Melissa. She was right there with you, sitting at the coffee table grading her students' worksheets. For some reason, though, it felt like she was miles away. Her back was facing you (maybe that had something to do with it), but you could almost picture what she looked like. Red reading glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose, eyebrows scrunched, and lips in a small pout as she deciphered messy handwriting. You watched as she tapped her pen on the stack of papers – something she did to help her think. She was deciding which encouraging note that student would receive.

“Oh, I know,” the redhead murmured once she figured it out. She was always attentive and deliberate with her feedback, firmly believing that her positive comments helped her students’ confidence. 

God, she was so cute. You let out a sigh, becoming painfully aware of the space between you two. Maybe you could distract yourself for another thirty minutes. Her stack of papers seemed to be slimming down, and you were certain she’d be done soon. You picked up your phone, choosing to scroll through the messages you’d received. Seeing a Tik Tok from one of your friends, you clicked the link before remembering you’d sworn to a vow of silence. Melissa had been hesitant to let you keep her company, knowing she’d be running the risk of you interrupting her. You could only sit with her if you were going to be quiet because she’d lose focus otherwise. 

She was already a week behind on grading, and you let out another sigh at that realization. Really, your only options were to sit there and watch the rain or to read your book (something you already grew tired of since you’d been doing it for the past hour). You truly just wanted Melissa’s attention at this point.

“Something wrong back there?” The woman asked as she scribbled dark ink onto stark white paper.

You startled at the sound of her voice piercing the quiet, “No, why?”

“You’re doing a lot of sighing,” she noted, not bothering to look back at you.

“I’m just bored.” You answered truthfully, a slight whine in your tone.

“I’m almost done,” she updated you before murmuring, “What the hell?”

You assumed that wasn’t directed toward you. She must have read a crazy answer on one of the worksheets. Her kids were known for writing down some wild things. 

You decided to watch that Tik Tok after all. You came to the conclusion that it wouldn't bother her too much if the volume was low. However, as soon as the video began to play, the teacher noticed.

“Hon,” she said in a cautionary tone.

“Yes?”

“If you don’t turn that phone off, I’m gonna break it.” She huffed.

Any other time you’d feel the effects of her words, but that particular statement didn’t have her usual boldness. She wasn’t the best multitasker, unable to grade papers and be stern at the same time. She’d have to stop one thing to do the other and you knew that. So, you continued to play the video, turning the volume down lower in hopes that it would fix the issue. If she really wanted to stop you, she would.

“Y/N.” She whipped her head over her shoulder giving you a sharp glare.

“What?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips as your theory was proven to be correct.

She put her pen down and moved to face you. “Turn it off. I’m not kidding.”

“Okay, Mel.” You smiled sweetly, with the intention of not giving her any grief.

Then your finger slipped and you accidentally scrolled down to the next video. Your eyes widened and your mouth rounded in surprise. Unbeknownst to Melissa, you had meant to exit out of the app, but your phone seemed to take its own interpretation of your actions.

Melissa got up from the floor quicker than you expected her to, and before you knew it she was walking over to you. The same look from before took hold of her face, and you tried not to focus on how pretty she looked in her glasses. A smile planted itself on your lips as you admired her and that seemed to provoke the woman.

“Something funny?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“No,” you shook your head as she walked closer to you. “It’s just– that was an accident. I was trying to close the app.” 

She’d made her way onto the couch, placing her legs on either side of your body and angling herself so she was leaning over you. Funny how a few minutes ago you were dying to be near her, but now you felt nervous under her gaze.

“Mhmm,” she nodded, “I bet you did.” Her hand reached out to snatch your phone.

 You were quicker than her and swiftly moved your hand before she could catch you.

“Y/N, come on.” She tilted her head and reached out for the device again. “I don’t have time for games.”

“I’m not playing games.” You laughed. “If you want it, you’re gonna have to try a little harder.” 

Moments later, you found yourself in a struggle trying to keep your phone safe. Once she realized where things were going, Melissa resorted to the only thing she knew would give her the upper hand. 

“Melissa, I swear to God if you tickle me.” You gritted through heavy breathing.

She grinned at you before moving her hands down to grab at your sides.

“Melissa! Stop!” You tried to wriggle out of her grip, legs kicking and hands grabbing at her, but it was no use. She had you pinned down to the couch and you were too weakened by laughter to fight back.

“I’ll stop,” she paused when you looked at her with hopeful eyes, “if you apologize.”

“I-It was an acc–” you giggled and gasped through her attack. “An accide–”

She didn’t even give you the chance to finish what you were saying. If the words weren’t “I’m sorry”, then she didn’t want to hear them.

“Melissa!” Your eyes started well up with tears as you used your last bit of available breath to let out a laugh. “Stop, I can’t breathe!”

“Apologize,” she smiled, knowing that she was going to win this fight. Your phone was long gone, had dropped out of your grip once she laid her hands on you.

Your breathing troubles increased and the muscles in your stomach were burning, so you caved in. “Okay! O-okay! I’m s-sorry.”

After your confession, she stopped as promised. You were breathless with tears streaming down your face from laughing so much. Melissa was laughing nearly as much as you, and it was probably because you looked like a hot mess.

“That was so uncalled for.” You pouted as she loosened the grip her legs had on you.

“It was so called for,” she mocked. “You wouldn’t turn your damn phone off.”

“I tried!” You exclaimed. “Clearly my phone has a mind of its own.”

Melissa reached up to wipe your tears away. “You’re strong. I thought you were gonna fling me off of this couch.”

“I thought you were gonna let me die on this couch.” You looked at her with wide eyes.

She threw her head back in a cackle, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I couldn’t fucking breathe, Melissa!” You emphatically motioned to your lungs.

“Poor thing,” she cupped your chin with her fingers. “Maybe next time you’ll keep your phone off.” She moved to get off the couch, but you reached for her arm to stop her in her tracks.

“I think I deserve a few minutes of cuddling for my troubles.” You proposed the idea hoping she would give take pity and give in.

“Your troubles?” she looked at you quizzically. “I’m the one who has to spend the next hour grading.”

“Please,” you whined as she started to move off of the couch again. “Just for a few minutes.”

“No, because a few minutes always turns into a few hours.”

“Please, baby.” You gave her puppy dog eyes. “I’ll help you finish grading.”

At the sound of you calling her baby, her eyes softened and you knew you were about to win this debate. She may be the queen of coercion, but you were also pretty good.

“Fine,” she conceded, “but only for ten minutes.”

She laid back on the couch and held her arms out to welcome you. You happily took the invitation and snuggled up to her chest. You placed a kiss on her collarbone to show your thanks, a chuckle escaping your throat.

“What?” She asked, her fingers already making circles on your back to calm you.

“Nothin’.” You continued to laugh quietly.

“Tell me.” Melissa couldn’t help but join in on the laughter, finding it infectious.

“You’re such a softie.”

“No I’m not,” she grumbled.

“You are.” You looked up at her. Even though she disagreed with you, you could see the twinkle in her eyes.

“You sure you wanna talk to me like that? When my hands are this close to you?” She asked, alluding to the fact that she wasn’t afraid to start a tickle fight again. 

“Hey, let’s not get crazy.” You eyed her cautiously.

“I’m not soft.” She scrunched her face in disapproval.

“Whatever you say, Lissa.” She was soft for you whether she admitted to it or not. “You know we're gonna be here for more than ten minutes, right?”

“Yeah, hon, I know,” she laughed. “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” You winked at her. “Plus, you were busy.”

“I’m never too busy to cuddle.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head as you moved to rest on her shoulder. “I love being close to you.”

At that confession, you looked at her with raised eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I see what you’re saying.”

“You big softie.” You teased again.

“Stop it.” She poked your side. “Or I’m gonna get you.”

“It’s okay. I love you just the way you are.” You smiled, sealing the deal with a kiss.

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#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #sugarᥫ᭡writes