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the-witheredroses · 5 months

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Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Anselm Vogelweide, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia x afab!reader (Pronouns and descriptions aren’t used for the reader)

CW: SMUT (did you look at the title?), pet names, slight size difference, fingering, face riding, mention of periods, slapping, toys, anal, dub-con, sub and dom roles, squirting, overstim/crying, untranslated Spanish, and possibly some other things (All are just brief mentions)

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best. Not proofread or heavily edited.

(Lmk if you want more in the future)

Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse

Miguel is a tired man, always overworking himself with the Spider Society. All because he’s extremely thorough, never leaving something to be completed at a later date. Because of this, it’s not often he gets the chance to destress.

So, when it comes time to pleasure, he’s just as thorough. Miguel makes sure you feel just as much pleasure as he does.

Of course, because of his lack of free time, Miguel doesn’t care where or when it happens, he’s eating you out.

You’re in his office? Bend over.

You’re on your period? I guess he’s not beating the vampire allegations.

Pick a time or a place, he’s there, willing to thoroughly please you in whatever way he can.

Miguel is on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His claws gently pricking at the soft of your thighs as he holds you still.

If you squirm too much, he is glaring at you from overtop your heat, pinning you in place with one of his massive hands.

His tongue runs laps in your cunt, teasing your clit and slurping you up. He’s eating you like a starved man, letting out small growls every now and again.

Miguel will refuse to touch himself until you’ve climaxed multiple times. He has the stamina to keep going for hours, and this is just a warm up for him. Besides, he’d rather see either of your pretty lips wrapped around his length over his hand.

When you’re a trembling, sopping mess underneath him, he’ll finally stop. His lower face is shiny as he licks his lips and hungrily smirks at you.

“Don’t think this is over, mi amor. This is just the beginning…”

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight

Marc wants you to feel as much pleasure as possible, because while he denies it, a part of him is a people pleaser. He always puts his partners above himself, including during intimate moments.

Marc is experienced and he will take the time to know what you like. Marc practically memorizes your body and what gets you riled up. But if he has the choice, he has you on your knees as he eats you out from behind.

Marc has you bent over as his tongue hits that perfect spot, causing you to tremble and moan in pleasure.

He loves seeing you grasp the sheets as you bury your face in your pillow, to him it’s a sign of validation, evidence that he’s making you feel good.

His hands grab at your thighs and ass as he goes to town. If he feels you try to pull away, he’ll swat your rear until you stay still.

When his mouth starts to ache, Marc will pull up and insert his fingers instead. He’ll move them in the way that has your toes curling and has muffled screams coming from your pillow.

Of course though, he finishes the job with his mouth back on you, drinking up every ounce you give him. He’ll lick his lips clean and kiss your cunt in praise.

“You did so good for me, darling…”

Steven is the most insecure of the boys. He never had the chance to date before, so he’s always worried about making you feel good. He especially worries when he hears how Marc talks about your guys' time together. Steven wants to make you feel just as good.

But Steven isn’t as affirmative as Marc or Jake.

Steven will keep you on your back, his hands feeling his favorite parts of your body. He loves to caress you.

Steven likes to be thorough but also to go slow. He wants you to feel every little moment he makes.

His tongue hits the spots you love, but it’s methodical, careful.

Steven pleasures you as though you could fall apart if he were to be too rough. But if you grind your hips or grab his hair, he’ll go a bit faster.

He lets you have control, his goal is to make you feel good, so why wouldn’t he listen to you?

Despite being focused on you, Steven won’t hesitate to make himself feel good too. Whether it’s with his hand or just humping at the mattress in front of him.

He definitely gets pussy drunk, babbling as dines on you.

“So pretty… so pretty…”

Jake, on the other hand, prefers to be a bit risky.

As much as he loves private moments with you (like the other boys), the thrill of getting caught makes it more exciting for him.

He’ll absolutely eat you out in his car or in an empty alleyway. All because you dressed up pretty for him or gave him that perfect smile of yours.

Jake likes to be quick but efficient with you, at least in public.

Jake sinks to his knees and pushes you against the brick wall. His hand stays on your stomach, making sure you don’t scramble from his grasp.

He’d start slow, intentionally making you panic about getting caught, but as he gets quicker, you become a moaning mess above him.

Jake will smirk as he makes quick work of you, making you finish quicker than you thought possible.

“Tan perfecta/o, mi vida… tan perfecta/o para mí…”

All of them love you so much, so sometimes after a hard day, they’ll each take turns making you feel good.

Steven most likely starts, being that he’s the most gentle. He’s a good warm up and he’s good for calming down without actually stopping. But with the other guys there too, he definitely is being a bit more aggressive to keep up.

Marc and Jake will take their turns, teasing and riling you up. Just between those two alone, your position is constantly changing, there’s no chance you’re getting sore from being stuck in one place.

Each of the boys will make sure you feel good, prioritizing you above all else. They even monitor each other through the many mirrors littered throughout the apartment. They just want their darling to feel good <3

Each will take their time, only stopping when you’re an overstimulated, crying mess.

Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.

“Our beautiful darling…”

Basil Stitt - Lightningface

Basil, the pathetic, desperate, possessive loner. He will do anything for your attention. He will follow your every order. You don’t even have to touch him, he’ll cum just from eating you out. He loves you that much.

Basil is aggressive as he eats you out, desperate to make you finish. Because if you finish, you’ll stay, despite his scars.

He moans and whimpers more than you do as you pull him deeper into your cunt. His hands grapple at every curve of your body, desperate to make sure you’re real, that you want him.

Why would anyone want a monster like him? Even his own girlfriend cheated on him before his accident happened.

As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.

He needs you to feel good. He needs you.

When your legs tense around his head and you start praising him, he starts crying and finishes as well, his seed staining the floor below him.

His head falls against your inner thigh as his tears fall fast. He grabs at you harshly, his fear causing his chest to ache.

“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”

Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick

Anselm is a weirdo, a big horny weirdo, let’s get that out of the way.

Anselm will touch you and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. This kinky switch of a man will eat you out in any way possible, and it’s never simple.

Per his request, he lies tied up with you over him. His arms are completely restrained as he lets you control the situation.

Your glittering heat flutters as he blows on you, smirking at every little reaction you have. He loves your noises, especially when you’re loud.

Eventually you sit on his face, and groaning happily, he licks up into you.

Your hips rock back and forth on his face, his nose hitting your throbbing clit harshly. You’re breathing heavily as Anselm eats you up, his beard scratching the back of your legs as your hips move.

Despite being such an odd man, he absolutely knows what he’s doing, like— he’s extremely talented with his tongue alone. With every squirm and noise you make, he’s watching you like a hawk.

Your high builds and comes crashing down quickly. But when you start to move off, he harshly demands you get back.

“We aren’t done yet, doll. If you don’t get back on, I’ll kill myself.”

Blue Jones - Sucker Punch

Blue doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure, no- it’s to prove a point.

He owns you, just like he owns all the people working for his club. And because he owns you, he has to make sure you know how good only he can make you.

You were in the dressing room when he approached you, his eyes hungrily scanning your body.

Whether out of fear or attraction, you do everything he asks. So when he asks you to strip bare, you do exactly that.

With his head between your thighs, it’s hard to remember that this man could kill you without a second thought. He’s just too talented with his tongue.

Running a club has its perks, including having lots of practice in making others feel good. With all this practice, this man will do anything to make you squirt. He sees it as a sign of victory, that his toy likes him the best.

Your back is arching as Blue hits your sweet spot. Your hips lightly hump his face and nose, chasing your high. His hands grip your legs, letting you ride his face more and more.

You squirt all over his face, causing him to hum in approval.

When you finish, he licks a stripe through your arousal. Blue’s eyes meet yours.

“Bunny, do you act like such a desperate whore with all the clients?”

Poe Dameron - Star Wars

Lover of the sky, Poe is known for being quite flirty. With the constant travel, Poe has had his share of hookups and romantic partners.

Which is why, of course, Poe would do anything to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.

He’s cocky, sure, but when he brags about how loud he makes you scream, you know it’s the truth.

After a long day of travel, Poe is clinging to your cunt.

As his tongue runs laps through your folds, you tightly grip at his curls.

He’s already made you finish at least twice, and he’s desperate for another.

Your cunt is trembling from overstimulation, broken moans escaping your lips as you lazily try to pull him away.

With every faint tug of his hair, he pulls your body closer towards his mouth, not letting you escape.

His tongue circles your clit like a dehydrated man, wanting you to release and give every drop of yourself to him again and again.

When Poe gets you to release over his tongue once more, he doesn’t back off, speaking as he licks every drop.

“Just one more… Can you handle one more for me, baby?”

Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina

Nathan doesn’t eat you out normally, he much prefers using his fingers if he has to.

This man prefers making himself feel good above all else, he only tolerates making you feel good. Which is why he always makes you finish quickly or sometimes not at all, moving on to make sure he can get his pleasure from this exchange.

The only time he has eaten you out was when he walked in on you having a wet dream, mumbling his name as your legs spread under the blankets.

You wake up moaning loudly, Nathan tucked between your thighs, mouth to your aching core.

As he hits your sweet spot, you instinctively grab his head. His buzzed hair provides nothing to grip to as your hips sleepily grinds his face.

Everything feels extra sensitive and good, the lack of previous priority making you extra needy.

His beard provides a scratchy and satisfying feeling as his tongue laps up your soaked folds.

He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve awoken, now on a mission to make you finish on his mouth.

His hands grope at your waist and ass, gripping at all the soft flesh he can.

When you finish with trembling legs, he lifts his head, his beard glistening in your juices. His hand palms over his cock as he sits on his knees and stares down at you.

“Get up. It’s my turn.”

Duke Leto Atreides - Dune

Leto is a very busy man, but he does worship you when he gets the chance.

Constantly being needed by everyone, it feels nice to relax and give himself to the one person he wants to: you.

Sure, sometimes you’re under the table servicing him, but it’s not often he gets the chance to do the same for you.

He’s on his knees, worshiping your pussy like it is a divine god. Leto is praying to you with his tongue.

Leto is so focused on you, he can’t even acknowledge his own pleasure before he knows you’ve had some release.

He has to give his baby some extra care while he has the chance <3

His hands touch every inch that he can, worshiping all of you that he can.

Leto’s nose bumps your clit as he watches you like prey, he just loves your blissed out expression.

When you two make eye contact, he makes his assault that much more pleasurable. Whether that’s adding in his fingers or reaching deep into you with his tongue. Man loves his eye contact.

When you climax, he’s smiling and peppering kisses over your inner thighs.

“I still have time, shall we go for another?”

Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)

John is a man of pleasure, and he will devour you as long as he gets some in return. Just… never mention your ex or past relationships, he gets jealous.

He loves different positions and experimenting with you, as long as you’re both having fun or a good time, then he’s more than happy.

John, the whiny man, is begging into your cunt as you two eat each other up.

Your mouth is wrapped around his length as he laps up your warmth.

With each stroke of your tongue, he moves his in tandem. Every moan you gain from him, wonderfully rumbles your pussy.

His hands grasp and pull your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.

John eats you like a starved man, because despite his regal status, you are by far the best meal he’s eaten.

At least that’s what he’d be saying if it weren’t the end to your guys night of pleasure, and John didn’t need an heir.

He probably isn’t the most thrilled to be eating his and your cum out of your pussy, but it's you, so he can’t complain.

Together, you finish and clean each other of every last drop, leaving both of you exhausted.

John pats his shoulder.

“Come, rest your head.”

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier

Santiago loves to tease you. No matter the situation or place, he will edge you until you’re crying.

He likes seeing you as a whimpering mess, begging for some relief.

You were just on the cusp of finishing when Santiago pulled away, watching as you begged him to let you cum.

He’d chuckle and hold your hands hostage, not letting you get the chance to finish what he started.

As you start to come down from your high, he’d go back in, licking and eating your cunt out.

As you squirm, chasing your release, he’d cage your legs in place with his arms and hands. You’re not allowed to escape him or his constant teasing.

When he finally lets you finish, you’re a trembling mess, your hole clutching at his tongue as he eats every last drop.

“You’re so cute like this… maybe I should go again?”

—————————————————

Thanks for reading!

Lmk if you want me to add more of his characters or do a different set of characters (like Genshin men for ex.)

3K notes · View notes

destructive-path · 4 months

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hi lovely!! idk if you're taking requests, but can you write gentle abby having reader (who's SUPER DUPER nervous because it's readers first time having sex) in her lap and she's just talking her through fingering? i love gentle skin on skin and i feel like it would be so hot ☹️☹️💕

anything 4 u (sorry this took me a min to finish and i got a little lazy at the end )

from stone to clay (A.A)

tags- 18+ MDNI , gf!abby , virgin!reader (reader is legal! i imagine shes at least 20 in this), afab reader she/her referred, anyone can read this the insert just has a vagina!, kissing, romantic!abby, swearing, fingering(duh), thigh riding,squirting………..whew

a/n- tbh me writing for abby was easier than i thought itd be purely bc i picture her irl to be soo much like the way i describe her in this fic. but this in a once in a blue moon occurrence bc i have way too many ellie fics i need to finish (help)

also yk the mf drill i didnt proofread or edit this just be a good reader and enjoy it for what it is mama is lazy

abby was chivalry personified

most people knew her to be quiet with a certain nobleness shining off her demeanor. her confidence was undeniable yet humble, she was reserved but also gallant. her personality mimicked something of a prince.

keeping mostly to herself, she remained occupied by things that made her all the more interesting to those around you. history, photography, not to mention her keen athletic skills. if her stature didnt give her away the whispers of praise from her peers at the gym did.

she was terribly intimidating. deemed something of a god by those around her. the possibility of becoming her friend was a trophy won by very few. so when she approached you one day, flowers in hand you thought it was an elaborate prank.

no one knows how it happened. how one day you were sure the infamous woman didnt even know your name, to becoming the object of her affection. it was like night and day. the moment abby had laid her eyes on you she become the face of chivalry.

she wrote you notes, texted you good morning everyday as well as pictures of things that reminded her of you. abby would ask you out on dates solely in person. (you secretly damned this trait because each time she asked it made you a blushing mess) she insisted on picking you up and paying each time, presenting you with a gift or an arrangement of flora upon arrival.

abby didn’t make a move on you for a while.

shortly after agreeing to start seeing her you confessed no one had asked you on a date before. this shocked her immensely due to the fact that she was so smitten with you. so she decided she would be the perfect gentlewoman, making sure each first memory you shared would be astoundingly romantic and particularly respectful. the last thing abby wanted to do was rush you or make you uncomfortable.

the first time you and abby shared a kiss was when she asked you to be her girlfriend. she had given you a night straight out of a movie. your heart never beat so fast for so long. at the end of the night she remained her respectful self, walked you to your doorstep, faced you and pulled you into her arms. god shes so strong. abby brought her hand to your cheek and her face close to yours and gently stated

“i want you to be mine.”

she had robbed you of speech whilst boring her eyes into yours, if she wasn’t holding you so tight you would’ve gone completely limp at the sound of her voice. at a complete loss, you gave her a gentle nod then abby placed her lips on yours giving you a perfect first kiss.

it wasnt long until you had become curious of more intimate moments you two could share. you weren’t a child, just accidentally sexually stunted, you had let yourself become consumed with more important things, it wasn’t until you turned 18 that you realized you had missed out on lifes more…sensual pleasures. so here you were years later and the opportunity to learn could not be more accessible.

it was hard to not be aware of how abby made you feel. you had become official just before the summer kicked in and as the temperature rose outside so did the temperature in the bedroom. once abby had made you her partner she came over alot. the hotter it got the less she would wear, as did most, but most people werent abby. MOST people didnt spend everyday lifting weights at the gym. and god did it show.

on one particular sweltering hot day abby found that her air conditioning had bust. luckily for her yours was operating fine. she shows up at your door dressed in low hanging loose fitting shorts that stopped mid thigh and a black muscle tee with the side holes leaving her entire abdomen on display. she was wearing a red sports bra that day. red. you would never forget it.

fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes of abby on your couch in a thin layer of sweat and flushed cheeks. fifteen minutes of abby subconsciously moaning about how good the air conditioning feels….

“baby?….you okay?”

she questions. your heaving now, and abby, being the sweet girlfriend she is, is incredibly concerned. what she doesn’t know is that you’ve been staring at the muscles on her thighs for fifteen minutes and your starting to sweat. and it’s not because of the weather.

“abby…”

you whine. and she gets it now. and shes giving you those eyes. god damn that look in her eyes because its making you breathe harder and now your sure its because you have never needed someone to touch you more than now.

desperation oozes out of you causing abby to hum. a faint smile forms on her lips as she pats her lap and beckons you in a sweet tone that rings through your whole body.

“cmere..”

she didnt even need to ask. before the words had even left her lips you had made your way over to her. you find yourself climbing on top of her and settling directly on her lap. its slightly embarrassing considering abbys position under you. shes got her arms spread out on either side of her, legs spread apart. she hasnt even touched you yet. for a second, she takes in the sight of you, abby has yet to see you this vulnerable up close. this intimate.

“hi.”

shes smiling at you in a way that makes your skin burn. you cant help but giggle at how precious shes being considering how sensual this moment feels. your arms hug your body awkwardly feeling overwhelmed by her glare. abby leans her head down to meet your lowered gaze sending your head up right. slowly she unfolds your arms and places her hands on the soft of your underarm. her fingers sprawl into claws and she carefully scratches her way up to your hands placing them on her bulging arms.

“hold on.”

abby whispers while tightening your grip around her biceps before her hands settle on your hips. a slight confusion overcomes you at her words but then she’s lifting you off her lap effortlessly and placing your heat over one of her thighs instead of your initial place on her lap. as she lowers you over her incredibly toned thigh her nose trails up your body taking in your scent. abby inhales deep tickling the surface of your skin making your hairs stand up. eventually your thinly clothed cunt comes in contact with abbys thigh muscle, the fact that a single thigh is enough to seat you comfortably has you staining your boxers. you grasp her arms a little tighter.

“you okay?”

shes whispering in your ear and her touch is driving you crazy.

“just tell me to stop if it gets to be too much…”

your lack of know how in this current situation has you completely pliant to her advances. there was something in you that was reluctant to have abby see you so exposed like this. maybe its the way her composure was kept under wraps. she was so stoic underneath you, demeanor oozing unwavering confidence, each touch she graced you with filled with intention. she was extremely calculated, focused on making you feel comfortable, making you feel good. roaming hands explore every inch of you. its a mix of delicacy and desperation, slight pressure applied to your skin attempting to coax out any nervousness you may have in this moment but its really no use. abby is too perfect like this. she had always been attentive to what made you feel good that each touch of her finger tips on your bare skin overwhelms you.

Its subtle, but the only thing giving away abbys true excitement in this moment is her heartbeat. you can feel it thump fast against your chest as she holds you close. her hands had finally settled on your hips, she had become obsessed with the feeling of your pelvis, the way your skin bunched together at the bend atop your leg for abby to grasp onto. she began to stroke you there softly, dragging her hands back and forth unconsciously compelling your hips to move on her thigh.

“abby.”

she hums at sound of your voice still deeply consumed in your increasingly sultry scent. you cant remember when but she had began placing soft kisses on your neck. your head had cocked slightly to the left leaving room for sweet pecks from your girlfriend that fed into the need for more of her.

“abby..”

shes kissing your jaw, your pulse that has picked up to an almost alarming pace, the base of your neck, god does she even know shes making you rock your hips on her thigh? her grip on your pelvis has become so strong you have no choice but to give in to abbys manipulation of your body. unbeknownst to her the heat of this moment making everything in abbys body flex. your seat on her thigh had become so tense you swear you can feel a vein prodding at your wet spot.

“abby!”

it all feels too good, and she hasnt even kissed you directly yet and your clothes are still on and if you spend another second riding her like this you might just come from it.

“hmm…what? you okay love? you need me to stop?”

her face finally leaves its home in your neck and shes looking at you with those eyes again. abby had become so consumed in the moment she didn’t realize her actions were having such an effect on you. concern floods her eyes but theres something else there too. a look you have yet to see from your girlfriend. it almost looks like shes in pain. she looks at you like if you told her stop her advances she might actually start crying. abby is trying to make sure she hadn’t moved too fast or made you too uncomfortable, but at the same time shes just so eager to have her hands on you.

“im so sorry baby, i got carried away…your just-do you want me to stop? please dont make me stop? ill be good i promise…”

her sweaty forehead meets yours and she is massaging you again, this time more desperate than before.

“no! please dont stop…..its just- hurts. the clot-boxers…need them off…”

your practically panting while your heads remain connected as she looks up at you and sports a soft smile. then finally shes connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. her hands find their safe spot on your hips as she sends you slightly backwards upon initial contact. your grip on her biceps has yet to falter so you dont fall off your place on her lap. abby uses the leverage of your position to maneuver your boxers off your legs. somehow she had kissed you deeply all while finding a way to remove the sticky fabric down your legs and tossing it somewhere in the living room.

once your boxers had been discarded she sits you back upright on her thigh. the skin to skin contact on your cunt makes you whimper and disconnect from her kiss, screwing your eyes shut due to the foreign and intense pleasure you felt there.

“shh shh shhhh…its okay baby-”

abby whispers against your lips, she doesn’t touch your leaking center just yet, instead she strokes the plush on your thigh and this time its making you shiver. You shake to the point where your girlfriend cant even deny how cute it is. how cute you are under her touch, the smallest action making you weak. but she cant tease you too hard just yet, abby wants to be a good girlfriend and teach you what its like to feel desired. to be touched by someone who truly cares about your pleasure. her hand smooths right underneath your belly button, eyes trained on yours.

“gonna touch you here now okay?”

abby is almost too respectful about everything that’s going on. part of you wishes she would just have her way with you, to quit the patronizing and fuck you however she wanted. you knew your girlfriend better than that though. you knew this was going to be an an torturously slow experience, abby was going to take her time.

you give her a nod of approval, anxious for whats to come next. she stares at you for a little longer admiring your state. her heart beats faster at the look of you. your puffy lips and red cheeks. every inch of you glossy due to sweat. she observes until she physically cant resist the need to touch you anymore. her head drops to look at your cunt on her thigh and you see her swallow, hard.

“fuck.”

abby swears in a dirty tone, its harsh and punctuates the consonant at the end. the sounds makes you slap her arm slightly out of embarrassment.

“abby.”

“sorry! sorry….”

she trails off entranced by your pussy. its weeping and the sight makes abbys ears burn red. she licks her lips as she trails her thumb down your vagina until it reaches the hood over your puffy clit due to you riding her thigh just minutes before, then she stops. you inhale the lower she advances on you to a sharp end, she finally reaches your most sensitive button you breathe out harshly when she slowly circles her thumb there. a slight squeal follows your breathing that illicits a hum of approval from your girlfriend.

“m’gonna play with it for a little okay? its going to tickle but you have to relax, then it will start to feel really good okay?”

shes rubbing you sort of rhythmically, her thumb circles with a fluidity so visually stimulating that more moans start to leave your lips.

“that’s good. its okay to make noise, means your feeling good baby.”

all you can do is nod and squeeze abbys arms tight. the subtle coaching tone in her voice makes your head feel light. she had a habit of spending countless hours in the gym, so it made sense that she could play the role of a good trainer/teacher.

after a while of abby intently massaging your clit you had become more pliant to her touch. she had your loose fitting tank top pulled taught behind you so she had better access to look at your now soaking pussy. the faster she moved the more the room filled with sounds of your slick. once it had started to ring so loud in your ear you fell forward into your girlfriend hiding your face in her neck. although you were embarrassed that didn’t stop the subtle roll of your hips into her thumb.

“s-so embarrassing..”

you whispered in her ear, concerned that abby would become disgusted by just how wet you had become so easily.

“mmhmm i don’t mind, its normal. plus it lets me know that im making you feel good.”

it didnt take much for you to believe her, abby was a good girlfriend. she wouldn’t lie.

so if she wanted go know how good you felt you made sure to show her just how much of a perfect girlfriend she was being.

“feels so good abby...”

your words tickles her ear drum and practically doubles the movement of her thumb on your cunt.

“yeah?”

“mhhmm”

you nod fast, face still buried her neck soaking in the smell of her.

“you want more?”

when she presents you with this proposal something in you snaps. any shyness you previously had was gone, the mere idea of abby being able to make you feel more, to make you feel better than you already did had become so enticing that everything else faded away. you craved more.

“please…”

before you can finish the word she’s adjusting you so that your leaky hole is more accessible to her fingers. she flips her hand over so her middle digit flick’s quickly through your folds. you clench around nothing at the feeling. its fast and somehow more intense then before, the action mimicking something of an intrusion without even entering you fully yet. the sensation makes you bite your lip straining your voice afraid that if you let yourself, you would scream.

“gotta make sure you are ready for me hmm? it might hurt a little at first but remember what i said about relaxing-“

“abby i know how it works okay? please just hurry-uh!”

she takes your impatience as a cue to finally enter your warmth with her middle finger. it stings at first involuntarily causing your thighs to close but she stops you. abbys mouth falls open as she feels how tight you squeeze around her.

“you relaxing baby? or are you just- fuck- just this tight?”

you sit up straight to observe the scene beneath you and it almost makes you faint. abby is fucking her finger into you slowly, twisting her wrist as she exits as an attempt to get you to open up for her. its not working too well, you watch as she enters you and see how your body practically pushes her digit out. you needed to relax.

“you have to loosen up love, or i won’t be able to fuck you because it will hurt too much. i don’t want to hurt you okay? so…cmere.”

she beckons you with her lips and you lean forward to meet her in a kiss. as she kisses you she begins the flicking motion on your slick again. you sink deeper into the kiss while she toys with you’re pussy, finding comfort in her lips.

“m’trying to relax…”

“i know i know just focus on my lips…”

and you do because they are heaven on earth. her soft kiss blurs the world around you. abby is normally marble, beautiful but hard and somewhat cold not susceptible to much damage. but right now she’s clay. messy, wet, and easily manipulated. you could tear her apart into tiny little pieces and she would let you, she would do anything for you. the thought of her changing the fabric of who she is in your presence finally makes you give in to her completely.

shes prodding at your entrance with her digit when she finally feels you open up slightly. one hand moves to continue her circles on your clit whilst the other begins to pump into you slowly.

“oh my god..”

this is the feeling you had been curious about for so long. the way her finger glides in and out of you with ease is a feeling you weren’t sure how you went so long without. but you were glad you did because something about abby being your first made it all worth the wait.

“feels much better doesn’t it baby? i knew that kiss would make you relax…”

her tone is mocking you slightly and you thank god for it because she’s had been so goddamn intense throughout this whole thing.

“…might need to add another finger…”

her ring finger slides into you and you can’t help but moan. you had never felt so full. abby wastes zero time and curls her fingers into you. you watch the way her bicep flexes as she pounds into you. the veins of her neck strain as she concentrates solely on your pussy. your hand snakes around her neck and you begin to let your hips meet her fingers chasing a feeling building up inside you.

“yesss good girl..ride my fingers baby just like that…you feel it? gonna come soon?”

the hand that was ones playing with your folds now finds a place on one of your tits. shes fucking you while playing with your perky nipples through your tank top and they sensitivity sends you off the edge. once again you are rendered speechless with only a frantic nod to use at your disposal.

abbys thigh lifts whilst your hips begin to stutter, insuring your movement progresses on her flexing muscle. shes pounding into you now at a pace so fast but so sweet. it doesn’t hurt anymore, in-fact its the opposite. it feels so perfect that you begin to feel a familiar sensation that scares you.

“abby, im gonna-“

“it’s okay baby give it to me.”

“n-no im-“

“i know your so close baby you can do it.”

“it feels like im gonna-“

without warning you squirt all over abbys fingers.

the initial gush from your cunt startles her. she assumed you were just going to orgasm, not soak her fingers completely. you expect her to push you off but she doesnt. her fingers leave your sopping pussy and guide your hips to ride out your high on her thigh muscles. abby cant believe how amazing you look right now. she cant believe she just made you squirt the first time you had been fingered. it was definitely going to go to her head. she reveled in how your hips stuttered awkwardly whilst you screamed in pleasure.

the both of you are a panting soaked mess. both of your hands explore each others bodies soothing out the overwhelming feelings coursing through you due to the events of what just happened. you shake slightly as abby holds you close planting soft kisses on your neck that make you sigh.

“I-Im sorry abby I didn-“

“shhhh you did so good pretty girl. you are perfect.”

she whispers in your ear before wrapping her arms around you, picking up your half naked body with ease and carrying you to the bathroom where you two would shower together, scrubbing your bodies of what would be the first of many more sexual occurrences you shared together.

***

#abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #anderson abby #abby tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby x y/n #lesbian #wlw #abby smut #abby anderson smut

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huramuna · 2 months

Text

firehaired, lavendereyed -- oneshot.

mean prince regent aemond x pregnant wife reader

a sequel to foxfaced, dragonhearted. it can be read as a standalone, though! its not as dark or mean as the first one and is (kinda) fluffy. thank you @echos-muses for inspiring this!

word count: 2.5k

@huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, fluffy, meanish aemond, prob unhealthy relationship, emotionally constipated aemond experiences emotions, reader is described w/ auburn hair, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes, pregnancy

cloudbusting - kate bush • i bet on losing dogs - mitski

warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, talks of choking and biting but its not in this fic, BREEDING KINK

Being the wife of a prince, a prince-regent no less, always felt like an honor. People would bow at you in the corridors, maids would bring you your favorite sweets without asking, courtiers would invite you to countless luncheons and extravagant events. It made you wonder, though– was it out of respect for your station– or out of fear for your husband?

He was constantly your shadow now, insisting on being with you at every waking moment ever since the maesters confirmed your pregnancy. His hand would constantly be guiding you on the middle of your back, towards whatever destination you were off to. He would insist you eat more for the babe, would rub your feet and prop pillows behind your back when you both retired for the day.

As he shepherded you into the throne room, he glanced at the courtesans and sworn lords alike– he had worn the crown since his brother fell from the sky in flames, burnt and scarred. He melded into the role like he was meant for it, as you so told him.

‘It looks better on you than it ever did on him, husband.’

‘Careful now, dear wife. That sounds treasonous, does it not?’

It wasn’t hard to spur him on into a feral state of being lately, as he adored your body filling out, belly stretching, breasts growing as you carried his child. His, his. He was still cold, in his way, of course– that would be something you would never pull him out of.

‘Husband?’ you had mewled softly as you came back from the maester’s chambers after receiving the news.

Aemond was sitting on the loveseat in front of the fire, one hand parting the pages of a book. He looked deep in thought, bristling slightly at being interrupted. ‘What?’

‘I’ve just come from the maester’s chambers,’ you started, walking slowly towards him like a skittish animal.

‘Why? Are you hurt?’ he closed his book with a loud snap and set it aside. ‘Come.’ he prostrated himself on the couch, legs spread slightly as an indication.

You lifted your skirts and sat upon his lap, as you do– as he commands, usually. It was easy to know what he wanted without words. He inspected your face carefully, turning you from side to side, skin taut between thumb and forefinger. Then, the back of his hand felt your forehead. ‘You aren’t running a temperature. You aren’t sick, are you, little wife?’

‘N-No… I had thought so with… the issues of late.’

‘Issues? What issues?’ he pressed, his lone eye boring into you with intensity.

‘I… ehm… have had an upset stomach– and… my…’ you blushed as you spoke. ‘My breasts have been tender.’

‘... hm.’

‘The maesters– they… inspected, thoroughly. They say I am with child… two moons.’

‘Pregnant. You’re… pregnant?’

‘Y-yes.’

Aemond stared at you for a long moment, not blinking. You had feared his reaction, you weren’t sure why, though. You knew your husband… liked you, didn’t he? In his own, special way. The way that he loved to call you stupid and bite you and choke you and never tell you that he loves you, except when lost in the throes of pleasure.

‘Husband?’ you squeaked out, anxiety swirling in the pit of your stomach at his lack of reaction. Aemond was good at concealing his emotions– but you could see the pupil of his violet eye dilating like a creature in the dark.

‘Good,’ he said simply, a hand on your waist, squeezing slightly. Then, a moment of recollection came over his face and he stopped squeezing, letting his hand laze on the curve of your body.

‘... good?’

‘Yes. Good. Do you wish praise for doing your duty?’ he grunted, already beginning to unlace your bodice. He wriggled it down your chemise and pawed one of your breasts. ‘Hm.’

‘W-what?’

‘They do seem… larger.’

He was gentle to you that night and every night after that. In touch and act alone– his words still left much to be desired.

As you both perused the throne room, approaching the iron throne, Aemond’s jaw clenched in irritation. You were well along in your pregnancy now, eight moons, and were quite round and stout, feeling all the part of a plump trout carrying eggs, trying to swim upstream–

“Where is the chair?” Aemond barked suddenly, causing you to jump.

“T-the chair, your grace?” one of the servants mumbled.

“The chair for my lady wife, you fool. Do you expect her to stand?” He thoroughly scared the daylights out of the poor servant, who rushed off to find a chair. “Incompetent.”

“... I pray he returns soon– my ankles are protesting this walk.” you murmured.

“If all of these prying eyes weren’t here,” Aemond whispered in your ear. “Mayhaps I’d have you sit with me on the throne.”

The thought of it sent a thrill through you, tingling all the way to the base of your spine and beyond. It was a wonderful fantasy, but you couldn’t get the logistics of it out of your head– you would certainly impale yourself on one of the unruly swords. “Mayhaps we can arrange something in our chambers after this, husband?”

Aemond uttered a sound between a growl and a quiet moan before guiding you further to your seat, now properly prepared. You leaned back on the chair, adorned with a pillow, putting a hand over your swollen belly.

As much as you appreciated Aemond’s… concern and vigilance with having you everywhere with him, you wished you could skip the tedious things. Your mind wondered the entirety of the session, tuning out the droning voices of the lords and only focusing on your husband’s. He sounded so powerful, commanding his lessers as if they were the sheep and he the shepherd. You didn’t lie when you thought the crown looked better on him than Aegon– Aemond was more suited towards this life.

You know he wanted it all– the title, the crown, but not at the expense of his brother, never at his expense– so he would have to be content with what he could make for himself. That included you and your unborn child. You wished so dearly that it would be a son, a son for him to continue his bloodline, his legacy.

Finally, the meeting ended and Aemond all but swept you off your aching feet to your rooms. He set you down on the bed and undressed you without much ceremony. “I couldn’t keep my mind off of you that entire time– if I were a lesser man… I may have not waited until our chambers to succumb to you.” he whispered, dragging kisses up from your knees, to your thighs and then your belly.

A gentle, but calloused, hand wrought over the stretched skin. He loved touching your belly, he couldn’t get enough of it– he was a scholarly man in all accounts, secretly in wonder of the machinations of the human body and how it could vessel something like another person. He would never admit this, of course, but you could tell just by how his eye roved your form, how he took in every detail. He parted your legs, swiping a finger between your already soaked folds– as it didn’t take much for you to become feral these days, either. You had been since he suggested the idea of the throne, forced to squeeze your thighs together through the duration of the hearing to relieve some of the ache.

“So wet for me already, are you?” he hummed, gathering your slick with two fingers this time and kissing your thigh, so close, so close to your aching center.

“... y-yes, husband– you kept me waiting,” you murmured. In your pregnancy, you’d become indignant and spoiled– and he let you. “So cruel.”

“Cruel?” Aemond questioned, a brow raised. “Cruel– you know me cruel, my dear wife,” he growled, parting your folds and licking a line from bottom to top. “Cruel would be… letting you sit for hours longer on the edge and not giving it to you,” he anointed his point by roving his tongue over your pearl, eliciting a keening whine from you. “Or mayhaps, not giving it to you at all. Shall I be cruel, wife?”

You shook your head fervently. “P-please, Aemond,” you panted, the heat of the moment and your out-of-whack hormones already making you perspire, sweat beading at your forehead. You felt like a bitch in heat, every touch of him on you was like a thousand sparks from a flint, trying to light your pleasure, trying, trying– but then dying, but it was always so close, on the precipice. “Touch me– don’t tease me.”

“Hm,” he roved it over in his mind for a faux moment. “You are doing so well carrying my child, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, please!”

“Mayhaps I will reward you for being a good wife, a good mother.”

“Please, my king,” you whimpered, using his title only reserved for bedplay. You wanted it bad, and he knew.

Once again, his pupil waxed and waned like the moon phases, like the ebbing and flowing tide– and then he began to feast upon you like the animal he truly was. His tongue roved over your sensitive core, suckling and nipping. Your hand flew to his hair, clenching it into your fist. He had become so expert in pleasing you with his mouth, something he only started after you became pregnant– you hoped this would stay.

“A-Aemond, f-fuck,” you cursed, throwing your head back on the pillow, clutching his silky strands between your fingers. “M-more, your grace–”

He lavished you like he was starved, not letting up at any point to even let you breathe– it was a constant assault on your clit, with only a few moments of relief when he caught his breath, looking up at you like the cat who got the cream, a smug grin on his face, the glisten of your essence on him. His thumb finished what his tongue started, kneading over your sensitive bud as you babbled and cried, fluttering around nothing as you came.

You heard the sound of his belt undoing, and his hand was in yours, guiding you to his rock hard member. “Don’t you see what you do to me, hm? I quite like you round, so full of my child,” he said as he lined up with your entrance, sliding in with no resistance. “Mayhaps I shall keep you like this and we will have an entire castle full of children.” he stayed upright, hands on your thighs. You still ached for his hand around your throat, so badly– but it wasn’t good for the babe.

He began a slow, almost lazy pace, staring down at you now as he loomed like a shadow, picking up his speed. As he sped up, he reached up and tore off his eyepatch, throwing it aside. The sapphire in his eye socket gleamed at you and you swore you could see yourself reflected into it–

It didn’t take long for him to reach his own peak, grunting and growling, balls tightening. His hand also itched so desperately to lace around your throat like a necklace, but his hand just twitched and clawed into the sheets as he emptied himself into you. He, regrettably to both of you, pulled out and encircled himself around you, arms resting on your ribs as you were lulled to sleep by his breathing and closeness.

You awoke, not knowing how many hours later, to him speaking. “Nyke jaelagon ao emagon aōha muñnykeā's pungos.” I hope you have your mother’s nose. “Ao'll rhaenagon gūrēñare lēda iā egros rȳ izula. Iā kostilus tōma. Aōha muña kessa daor hae ziry, nyke gīmigon.” You'll start training with a sword at age four. Or perhaps five. Your mother will not like it, I know.

His head was laid near your belly, faced away from you, his hand draped over it softly. He didn’t know you were awake– he was… speaking to the baby. You could only catch bits and pieces of what he was saying– but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a conversation for you to know. You closed your eyes once more.

–

“M-may the mother… guide me… and bless me with a son,” you murmured. “Bless us with a son, please.” you groaned as you tried to get up, your knees bruised and sore. You had been praying every day for the last fortnight as your delivery loomed closer. You feared to give him a daughter– as accompanying as he’d been during your pregnancy, you knew… you knew what he wanted. And you knew it was a coin flip to give him what he wanted.

You felt heavier than usual, finding it difficult to get back up after being down for so long– you felt a strain in your lower back, then an acute pop. A gush of wetness flowed down your legs. “A-ah– ser!” you called to your sworn sword, a member of the Kingsguard picked by Aemond specifically to be with you at all times when he wasn’t around. Presently, Aemond was taking a ride upon Vhagar. “Ser!”

“My lady?” the Kingsguard rushed in, eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“T-the… the babe–”

–

“Why wasn’t I notified?” Aemond growled, stalking through the corridors as he paced to the maester’s quarters.

“Y-You were in the sky, your grace– we didn’t know how to reach you–”

“Fuck’s sake– is she alright, then?”

“Yes– uhm…”

“Uhm? What? Is my wife alright or not?!”

“Yes– she and the babe are alright.”

Aemond fumed as he opened the doors, eye zeroing in on the maester, then you. You were mortified, crying, holding a little bundle against your breast.

“A-Aemond,” you croaked. You were shaking like a leaf.

“Congratulations, your grace,” the maester spoke. “It is a healthy baby girl.”

Girl.

You couldn’t stop sobbing as you watched his face, impassive, turn to confusion, to longing, to grief, to anger, to…. Nothing. He stared at you blankly then.

“Aemond– please– I- I prayed to the Gods every day for a son, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t.” Aemond’s voice snapped like a whip as he walked closer. “Let me see the babe.”

You offered the bundle to him– a baby girl. She had curls of red hair like you and lavender eyes like her father. Sensing movement and a change of presence, the baby sneezed, staring up at her father. He stared back, his expression unreadable. “Vaella. Her name is Vaella.” he didn’t ask, nor suggest. He declared. Glancing back at you, he spoke quietly. “We will just have to try again, won’t we, wife?” His tone was like a fog upon you– it was proposed like a thinly veiled threat, a promise– but then his gaze softened almost imperceptibly. You wonder if you imagined it. “Kirimvose, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys.” Thank you, sweet wife. “Ñuha hūra,” My moon. He turned back to Vaella, whispering. “Se ñuha qēlossās.” And my stars.

–

Aemond ended up getting his heir and then some, a year and a half later. You gave birth to triplets. All boys.

Maegon, Vaelar, and Rhaelor.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #my writing

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thefandomthings · 1 month

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I'm so sorry I forgot to specify which section last time I just realized 😭 Can I pretty please have fluff 39 with Barbatos from Obey Me? 🫂

Soothing

Fluff prompt #39: "Should I stop talking?" "Don't. Your voice is very soothing."

Pairing: Barbatos x Gn!reader

Warnings: Floof, cussing

Notes: Hey there Nony! You're good, I know what you meant! I would like to apologize in advance I've never gotten into his character, I don't know much about him but I will try my best. I don't like this piece, I feel like I did a terrible job at writing him. Please give me some fed back on it 😭

Barbatos is a busy demon, constantly doing his duties as the royal butler and taking care of the prince. But he always make sure he has time for you. He let's you spend time with him while he does chores around the castle, or is making tea for himself and the prince; as long as you don't interrupt him or distract him.

You cherish the time you get to yourselves. Sitting in your shared quarters sipping tea and reading in the comforting silence of one another. Other times, Barbatos likes watching you tell him about the books you are reading, or what you did that day while you were out with the brothers while on a nightly walk.

He isn't much of a talker, simply preferring to keep quiet and let you do the talking for him. His favorite it when you get deep into what you're talking about. He'll give occasional noises or throw in a few questions to let you know he is listening.

"-And then it ends on a cliffhanger! Of all things, it pissed me off honestly. They went through all that and the author ended it in such a terrible way-" You were practically seething as you walk next to him, Barbatos is giving you a small smile. Watching you ramble on and on was his favorite part of the day if he was being honest.

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that my dear. Do you know when the next book will be out?" Barb asks softly, his turquoise-green eyes watching you intensely, his left hand squeezing yours softly.

(A few months after he asked you this, the book will somehow end up on your bed, signed by the author with a rose next to it. Sneaky bastard.)

You shake your head, slouching your posture grumbling about your book once again.

"No, and if it is the author won't say it..." You respond, lolling your head to rest on his shoulder.

"I've honestly discovered I don't like this author as much as I used to. Her work isn't as thrilling as her older stuff-Which is fine, I don't mind but it just doesn't give the same thrilling feel."

You then realize you have been dragging this conversation on for at least 10 minutes. Your face slowly gets enveloped by a deep blush. You look up at your boyfriend, who is smiling as usual, but it's more genuine and full of care.

"Should I stop talking?" You whisper, looking at him curiously as he stops walking. The moon illuminates your face, defining every beautiful feature on you.

Barbatos simply shakes his head, grabbing your chin between his gloved forefinger and thumb. His eyes gazing into yours lovingly.

"Don't. Your voice is very soothing." He gives your forehead a soft kiss, his lips lingering before he pulls away. He moves a strand of hair away from your eyes before he starts walking with you once again.

Your face is on fire, a bright smile gracing your lips. You clear your throat and continue on your rant. Barbatos can't help but chuckle to himself, thanking whomever brought you to him.

#obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me brothers x reader #thefandomthings

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azulock · 6 months

Text

Men whose notion of aftercare is just laying back in bed together and doing nothing. He'll fuck you mindless and raw but once it's over he'll turn to the side of the bed, pick up a switch or their phone and pull up some stupid game with you in his arms. He fucks you all animalistic and aggressive and then just flip back to being a loser, a silly weirdo - literally just a guy. And sure, it seems careless but there is something comforting in that. In just laying in his warmth - and sometimes you share whatever he is doing, sometimes you don't, but just watching is good enough. There is comfort in snapping back to normalcy, to the guy you fell in love with. It's not the royalty treatment kind of aftercare, sure, but it still eases you back to reality nice and slow. And you could lose yourself on this tranquility. Also, he may or may not remind you you gotta get up and pee in case you actually lose yourself in the tranquility - it really depends if he remembers.

NAGI, Oliver, Shidou, Lavinho, Prince, Bachira

Men who are incredibly clingy during aftercare. There is nothing casual about it, he will go all out to pamper you with anything he can - and then he will cling to you like a vine. He'll run a warm bath, and climb into the bathtub with you so you can both soak in the water together. He'll have snacks and water and music - and maybe a scented candle even. There is no such thing as too much. If you ask for a massage you get a massage, if you ask for sweets you get sweets, if you ask for the moon - well, the control of the tides be damned, fuck the rest of the planet. Though, in return he clings to you like a koala, always touching, kissing and wanting to hear you say how much you love him. He needs the reassurance, the soft touches and loving words. After fucking you senseless, hammering into your holes like it's an addiction, using your body like a toy he needs this soft loving to wind down. He needs this to be sure that after everything, you still love him, just as he reassures you he loves you too.

REO, SENDO, Kunigami, Kaiser, Chigiri, Yukimiya

#bllk x reader #oliver aiku x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #meguru bachira x reader #chris prince x reader #lavinho x reader #mikage reo x reader #sendo shuto x reader #kunigami x reader #michael kaiser x reader #chigiri x reader #yukimiya x reader

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

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NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: you haven't consummated your marriage and your husband is the only one with an answer.

content warnings: +18, smut if you squint, a bit angsty, fluff, aemond being an insecure little baby.

note: if there are any grammatical errors i apologize, english is not my first language! hope you enjoy.

YOU MARRIED AEMOND TARGWRYEN four moons ago knowing that he had some issues. a lot of them. but the heart wants what it wants and yours has aemond’s name on it.

if you ask someone about aemond’s weakness, they would tell you he does not have one. but those who live in the red keep know that the prince weakness is his lady wife. and you know aemond would not hesitate on burning king’s landing and everyone in it if something happens to you. you’d never question is love for you.

however, you have been feeling sad and unattractive, so undesirable, for some time now. but at this point it’s not even about you.

today you did not see each other all day, not even at dinner. that’s why when your husband enters your chambers, he’s meet with you jumping on him, your lips immediately finding their way to his neck. but while you’re leaving hot and wet kisses on his pale skin, aemond does not know what to do. sure he can surrender to pleasure, but then what? of course he has kiss you before and you two have done other things. things that involve him rutting into you fully clothed, making a mess in his trousers but not letting you help when you happily and still hot volunteer to do it with your mouth.

he grabs you by the waist and pulls away, a hard expression on his face. “i’m not in the mood.” he simply says, walking away to start taking off his clothes for bed.

“don’t you find me attractive?” you fidget, bitting your lip and looking straight to the floor. “i-i mean we never… you never…” you shrug, the words not leaving your mouth even though you have a lot to say.

your husband stays silent and you think you have upset him, until he’s back in front of you, his hands grabbing yours and guiding you with him to the bed.

he sits with you between his legs. his touch soft and gentle goes up your arms, to your neck and stops on your cheeks, making you look directly into his eye. “there’s no more beautiful woman than you, my wife.” but there is no reaction from you and he knows this is all his fault.

the last time he tried to be with a woman, he ran out. to this day his older brother stills makes fun of him.

he sighs, he knows what he has to do and this time he’s not backing away. his right hand goes back to yours, this time guiding it to rest on the bulge between his legs. you blush and try to pull your hand away, but aemond won’t let you.

he’s shaking, his face with that light pink that tells you he’s nervous. and you want to make him feel better but you also want to know what is going on inside that pretty head of his.

you give his cock a light squeeze through his clothes and he groans, his forehead going to rest on your stomach while you jerk him out.

and so he starts talking. and he tells you about that time on his thirteenth name day, his first and last time with a woman. and why he has not been with one since then. all of them scared to see what’s under the eyepatch; scared of the crippled prince. he has heard the ladies talk about how handsome he would be if it were not for his missing eye, disgusted for having to see that thing while he fucks them.

aemond does not want you to go through that, he knows how disgusting he is.

he has tears in his eyes and you don’t know if it is for the pleasure your giving him or the awful things he’s saying. but you keep going, touching him through his trousers, sweet nothings whispered in his ear until he’s a trembling moaning mess clinging to you.

but you don’t stop there. you take your time to undress the both of you, kissing every new spot of skin on him that comes into view. you’re waiting to be stopped at any minute but he let’s you keep going until you’re both presenting yourselves bare in front of the other for the first time.

“i married you, did i not?” you sit on his lap and slowly start moving your hips, a low groan coming from him at that new sensation. "and it was my choice. i could have run away but i stay and you know why?" you swallow a moan by biting your lips, your hands going for his eyepatch. but aemond immediately stops you with the hand that's not in your waist. however, you brush it away and as you remove the last piece of clothing from him, you leave kisses along the scar.

when you look at him without his eyepatch for the first time you think about two things. the first one being wanting to find out who those ladies are, so you can have them remove from court at once. and the second one being how that sapphire suits him so well.

"because i love you as i have never loved anyone until now." you trace his scar, mesmerized by the gem. "and if you let me," reaching between your bodies, you guide his cock to your entrance. a moan escapes your lips as aemond's hips jerk up slighly, his hands gripping your waist. "i would like to show you how much i really love you, my dear husband."

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic

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chrisili · 6 months

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My apologies

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader

Summary: You and Edmund have to explore the underground together, alone and you punch him in his face. Accidentally.

Warnings: Make out session

Genre: fluff, rom-com

Word count: 2,3k

A.N.: So extremely obsessed with Narnia currently sooo here you go. This is in the time of Prince Caspian just for the plot but I imagine Edmund a little older here.

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 100 LIKES ON MY LAST FF? ALSO I HAVE MY FIRST 3 FOLLOWERS AND THAT IS BEYOND EXCITING. THANK YOU!!!

Masterlist

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“Cas, wait! Woah,” while you were, almost casing, after your brother you tripped on a rock. You two were currently in the woods walking to your base where all the other humans, animals, dwarfs, centaurs and what not, were stationed. Caspian turns around to look at you almost tripping on a stone, let’s say he didn’t exactly try to be decent.

“Sister, if you keep this up the King is never gonna want you.” He said laughing while holding you to steady yourself. You look at him half blank, half annoyed. “Yes I am sure out of all the possible situations in the world, tripping in the woods would be THE reason for King Edmund to not be interested in me.” You slap his arm as he tries to help you and you resume your path. “Anyways, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You and the High King Peter assigned me and Edmund to go deeper into the base to explore, to see if we find something useful, right? So, naturally, my question is, why the hell would you do that to me?”

Caspian pulls an arm around your shoulder while he walks with you, “why dear sister, here I thought I was doing you a favor? You obviously like the King and he obviously likes you back so why not spend some time with each other, together eh?”

You nod your head and squint your eyebrows sarcastically. “You know, that is a great idea! How about you send me to uncles castle and we can die there, together eh?”

Caspian looks at you suprised. “I don’t understand?” You roll your eyes, “clearly.”

“Brother tell me, have you maybe noticed how I act around the King?” Y/N asked while they were now on the big meadow in front of their base. As narrator, I have to agree with Y/N. With the handsome dark haired King around her, her head gets all blurry and it is hard for her to think. Although she really likes him she starts being more sarcastic than she already is when she sees his big brown eyes. With Caspian not taking your nervousness seriously and High King Peter actually adoring the thought of his little brother and Y/N, there was nothing to be done.

So you and King Edmund were now in the underground, exploring, dying (Just kidding, only you were, out of nervousness). Edmund was holing up his flashlight to look around, while you were holding a regular torch. You guys didn’t actually talk a lot because your brother was right, the King liked you back so naturally he was pretty nervous too.

“King Ed-” congratulations, you started chocking on your own saliva not even having spoken two words! You cough a little so your voice would come back. “I apologize, King Edmund. I was just wondering why your thing is a lot brighter than mine.” Edmund looked at you and chuckles, which warmed your heart and made your cheeks slightly pink, not that it mattered because it was too dark anyways.

“It’s a flashlight. It has batteries in it, it’s actually hard to explain.” He said scratching his neck. You just nod and kick yourself mentally for even bringing it up. As you two walk further you come across a kind of door frame. There was the frame but no door and in the room behind it was heavy blue lighting, shining though the ceiling, which was of course the moon. You both walked in and not even a minute later a heavy metal door was falling in to the frame. Both your heads turn immediately and you run up to the door.

“No, no, no, no. No please open, please don’t noo…..” you whine while hitting and punching the door to get out. As you realize that the door doesn’t actually open you drop your head with closed eyes.

“I didn’t realize it is such a burden for you to be alone with me.” Edmund said in a sarcastic voice while he just continued walking into the room, which was by the way massive. Not really a room, more like a cave. You turn your head to Edmund and then you started walking after him. “Your Highness I apologize deeply, again. It is not a burden being with you. It is just…” He turns around to look at you, you both standing pretty close to each other while he looks you deep in the eyes. You look back into his and you start giggling covering your mouth. Edmund lifted an eyebrow at you but before he could respond you heard a loud sound coming from the cave.

Both of you slowly walk into the direction where you heard the sound coming from. “I think you should go and look.” You say standing on your tip toes to get a better look from afar.

“Me?” Edmund says also looking into the dark in front of him.

“Mhm.”

“I think it would be better if you went.” Edmund said.

“Funny, because I don’t agree with your opinion in the slightest.”

He turns to you with an imitating look. “Your Highness.” You add.

Edmund breathes out heavily and starts walking up ahead. The further he goes the more he disappeared until nothing was left but darkness again. You started to kind of freak out in your head, because what’s being worse than being alone with Edmund in a cave is being alone with dead Edmund in a cave.

“Your Highness? Your Majesty? King Edmund?” You yell into the dark not getting an answer back. It would be an understatement saying that you were shitting your pants at this point. But you completely lost it when something tabbed your shoulder, your screamed as loud as you could throwing a punch at Edmund. Yes your read that right, the thing tabbing your shoulder was Edmund who was actually excited to prank you a little bit but now he was just holding his eye while tumbling back. “OW!” He yelled painfully while kind of falling and sitting on the ground. You run up to him and kneel beside him.

“I am so sorry my lord! I didn't see you! I thought it was something that wants to murder me, I was looking out for you and you didn’t come back, I got so scared without you so, oh please my King forgive me. I didn’t mean to really!” You keep rambling about how you are sorry while pulling a beautiful lace handkerchief out of your small satchel. You put some water onto it, also from your satchel and you start to lightly tab it on to the kings, now blue, eye. He hisses at first and moved away because of his reflexes but lets it happen right after. His eyes are closed while sitting there with you, you try to cool his eyes while no one was talking. You were deeply ashamed having punched the love of your life, I mean the king. (obviously)

“First you can’t bare being in one room with me alone and now you punch me in the face, you must really hate me.” He laughs a little still eyes closed. You take his hand with both of your hands, your words desperate. “Oh no, no your Highness. Quite the opposite really! I, in fact like you so much that I am strongly ashamed of myself. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life my lord, I mean it. Around you my head gets dizzy and I don’t know what to do or how to speak, what to say or how to act. I didn’t want to be in a room with you because I was afraid I was going to mess this up, which I obviously did. I don’t expect you to forgive me for I have done such a terrible thing.”

Silence. Deafening silence. Edmund opened his left eye (the good one) and looks up to you. (You kneeling and him sitting you were above him)

“You always hit people in the face you ‘like so much’?” He asks mockingly and you look blankly at him with your eyes building up some tears. When he sees your tears his face changes, he sits up and cups your face with his warm hands. He removes your tears with his thumbs repeatedly because you just wouldn’t stop crying.

“Y/N now I have to apologize. I was insensitive, I shouldn’t have mocked you about your feelings. Please stop crying, I can hardly see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart stopped beating and you died on the spot, at least that’s what it felt like. “My what?” You said almost whispering, having stopped crying immediately and just looking blankly into Edmunds face. He smiled a little while holding your face softly.

“Your beautiful eyes, I always love looking at them. Just like the rest of you actually… I really like looking at you. Does that sound awkward? It does, doesn’t it?” He says dropping his arms while staring at the very interesting stone floor.

“Your Highness, I like looking at you a lot too.” You say smiling and he looks up at you again. He really wanted to keep staring into your eyes but for some unknown reason his eyes started to look at your lips instead. He took your face into his hands again to pull you closer and just before your lips were touching, he looked at you again, asking permission. You smiled and closed the distance between you.

Both of your eyes were closed, I mean his anyways because you hit him but still. You put one of your hands on his shoulder while moving the other one to cup his hand that is still cupping your face. It was just a peck but when he was about to pull away, you pulled him back in. This time moving your lips against his. Edmund was smiling widely into the passionate kiss while moving one hand down your neck. Without realizing it you climb onto his lab and kiss him faster now, both of your breathing sped up and you could hardly keep your hands to yourself. He actually bit your lip and you moaned a little into his mouth, that’s when you pulled away.

You looked at each other breathing fast, hair messy and unable to speak. Edmund tho was the first to say something. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I went too far.” You shook your head. “No that is not it. It’s just I mean, it’s not really romantic here.” You say laughing a little and he starts laughing with you. Both of you helped each other up, having hearts in all three of your eyes.

Edmund told you then that when he went into the dark he actually came back through the dark, meaning it was kind of a loop.

“Are you saying we are trapped in here forever?!” You exclaim looking shocked.

“I don’t know, it seems to be some sort of magic, we could climb the wall but I don’t know if we fit through the holes.” He says looking up at the ceiling.

“Your Highness, no offense but even if I wanted to I couldn’t climb these walls, any walls for that matter.”

“Edmund.” He says not looking away from the ceiling.

“Excuse me?” You ask back.

“It’s Edmund, not ‘your Highness’.”

“How about, my love?” You ask chuckling and he looks at you blankly.

“Or not, it was just a thou-” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Edmunds lips pecked yours smiling. “I would like that very much, my queen.” He says kissing your cheek.

You couldn’t say anything because another voice appeared. “Edmund? Y/N? Are you in there?” You hear King Peter yelling from the other side of the metal door. Edmund rushed over to the door and yelled back. “Yes Peter, we are in here! Do you think you can open the door from outside?” Not having even finished, the door went up and on the other side were Peter and Caspian smiling.

“You idiot! You planned all of this didn’t you!” You yelled at your brother, storming to him and hitting his arm. He tries to shield himself with his hands while he was laughing. “So what it worked, didn’t it?”

“How did you use magic?” Edmund asked his brother.

“What are you talking about?” Peter said confused.

“The cave, it brought me back when I tried to walk further.” Peter started to laugh, “no offense brother but I think you might have lost your orientation in there blaming it on some magic." Edmund just scoffed and turned to his left.

“Oh god, Edmund what happened to your eye!” Peter asked worried wanting to touch Edmunds eye softly but Edmund slapped Peters hand away. “Y/N punched me.” On command, Caspian hit your arm hard. “OW! What was that for!?” You exclaimed while holding your arm. “How dare you punch the king of Narnia! You should apologize!” Caspian answers with a joking angry face. “Oh I’ll apologize all right!” So you and your brother actually started hitting each other or something.

Edmund then took you by your shoulders, away from Caspian walking with your hand in his. He took you out so you both stood under the moonlight, kissing each other softly.

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starogeorgina · 7 months

Text

Kepa

Paring: Daemon Targaryen x reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, oral sex, fingering, handjobs, p in v, Daemon being a dickhead

1.01

“What does the winner get?” You ask, a smirk pulling on your lips.

Harwin's lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Whatever they want.”

“Fuck, Harwin!”

Harwin adds another finger to pump inside you while he uses his mouth to suck on your clit. He won the silly game you played while sneakily drinking in a tavern together in the street of silk while being dressed in a disguise, and what he wanted was to hear his princess beg, and beg you would.

“Please let me cum.”

Just as you’re about to reach your peak, Harwin removes his fingers. Chuckling to himself, seeing the frown on your face, he says, “You can do better than that.”

Not wanting to give in so easily since he refused you, you roll your eyes at his comment and lower your hand to attend to your own needs, but Harwin quickly snatches both your wrists and holds them above your head, one of his large hands holding them together with ease. He uses his free hand to rub his leaking cocks against you, slitting them over your clit and sending a tingling sensation through you.

A small gasp leaves your mouth. You want to beg, but chew on your lower lip instead.

Harwin leaves gentle kisses over your face. “My stubborn little princess, I know what you want, and I’ll give you what you want as soon as you say, please.”

His lips trail down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your hard nipples into his mouth and gently bites down on it, causing you to moan. Between the mixture of pain and pleasure, it causes you to loudly plead with him, “Please, please, please!”

“Please what?” Harwin asks before gently biting on your lower lip.

“Please fuck me!”

“Anything my princess wants, she gets,” he says before sliding inside you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he finds a steady rhythm as he thrusts inside.

What would all the ladies and the lords of the realm think if they knew the beloved second daughter of King Viserys and sister to the heir to the throne was being fucked by her sworn protector? Although it sounded completely scandalous, your husband, Prince Daemon, knew what was going on. Once your betrothal was announced, you and Daemon came to an agreement. You would do your duty by continuing your family’s bloodline, but you would also have lovers on the side.

You did love Daemon and were glad he would one day be the father of your children. But Harwin made your heart feel warm in a way you’ve never felt before.”

“Gods,” you squeal when Harwin pinches your clit. “I’m so close!”

“Cum for me. I want to feel you soak me.”

Doing as you’re told, you soak Harwin’s cock, which triggers his own orgasm when he feels you clench around him.

Harwin pulls out of your swollen pussy, watching as his cum slowly dribbles out. He reaches for a damp cloth and gently cleans you up before pressing a kiss on your soft lips. “Do you want to stay for a while?”

You look outside, then let out a deep sigh. “I do, but I should be heading back.”

“I understand,” he says, kissing your forehead before standing to redress. “I’ll make sure you get back to your bedchambers safely before turning in for the night.”

—

Your legs dangle over the edge of the table you’re sitting on as you flick through the delicate pages of the book in your hand. You were waiting for your lady-in-waiting to return; she had gone to fetch you moon tea from the maester before you bathed.

You jump when the door to the bedroom suddenly slams shut. You lift your head to see your husband storming into the room. You could see the fury burning beneath his eyes.

“Daemon, is everything okay?”

He snaps his head in your direction and stares at you for a moment. His fingers twitch by his side, and his jaw is clenched slightly. You gulped down; it made you nervous, not knowing what had made him so angry.

He stands in front of you, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table and begins kissing your jawline. You wanted to embrace Daemon, knowing that touch, sexual or not, was one of the things he craved most, but it felt wrong when you still smelled of Harwin.

When you feel his hands traveling to the bottoms of your skirt, you mumble, “Valzrys... I still need to bathe.” You push his hand away while feeling his gaze burning into you.

Incoherent words pass his lips; his anger has shifted in your direction, and eventually you understand what he’s saying. “Is it too much to wish that I come to my wife at night and she’s not full of another man’s seed like a common wh-”

He cuts himself off before finishing the sentence.

“That’s not fair; you fucked your way through half of the streets of silk, and I’ve never once said anything. I’ve only ever had one lover, and it doesn’t make me a common whore when it’s more than a physical connection. Harwin cares about me.”

He snorts out a cruel laugh. “Yes, I’m sure he cares about Rhaenyra in the same way.”

Your lips begin to tremble. The rumors of Harwin and your sister having an affair had hurt you deeply, since Rhaenyra knew everything. To you, it would be a betrayal you could never come back from; it would break your heart, and Daemon knew this more than ever. You clear your throat. “You’re just saying that to hurt me. Rhaenyra wouldn’t do that.”

“Perhaps there is some truth in the rumors circling the keep, and you’re the only one who doesn’t believe it.”

You jump down from the table, your bare feet hitting against the ground. “Unless you wish to share what is wrong with you, I suggest you stop talking.”

You knew of Daemon’s harsh nature, but not once had he tried to hurt you before. His words had left you feeling conflicted; he was being unnecessarily mean, but something must have happened for him to be lashing out so badly.

“Maybe I’ll visit Rhaenyra’s bedchambers as well, then me and the sworn protector can discuss who’s a better fuck.”

You slap him hard across the face and say, “Don't ever speak of my sister like that again!”

Daemon steps back; regret spreads across his features, but he says nothing. What if he was right? What if you were just a fool who couldn’t see what was going on? Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, you storm out of your bedchamber, ignoring your husband as he calls after you.

—

The walk you had gone on intended to clear your head had done the exact opposite of calming you; it had completely shattered you. You had gone to her sister to seek her comfort and saw Harwin leaving her bedchamber, and you couldn’t think of a reason aside from them fucking for him to be there. You didn’t know what hurt worse—being betrayed by two people who meant the world to you or the fact that Daemon knew and let you become a laughing stock. If he had any respect for you, he would have told you as soon as he found out. An anger you’ve never felt before burns beneath your skin. All you wanted to do was lash out and set the world ablaze.

Soon as the door opens in front of you, you barge past the knight and enter his private room.

It was clear your knocking had startled him, which is why he was clutching his sword so tightly. Criston narrows his eyes and says, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You pull him into a feverish kiss. He grips your shoulder with his free hand before coming to his senses and pushing you back.

“Get out.”

You lean against the wall, waiting to see how serious he is. If the knight tosses you from his room, then so be it; you would just find another way to get back at your sister and husband.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” he says sternly.

When you don’t move, Ser Criston steps into the hallway to see if anyone is watching. He comes back in and closes the door behind him. He tosses his sword to the side. “What is it you want, princess?”

It was no secret the knight hated most, if not all, of the Targaryens, as his loyalty was with the Greens, but he was still just a man, and you were sure he wouldn’t refuse your offer. “It appears my husband’s made a fool of me.”

“And you want me to help get back at him?”

“Yes,” you say, taking Criston’s hand in yours and placing it over your breast. When he gives it a tight squeeze, you lift your dress, then move his other hand up towards your already wet cunny, but when he doesn’t do anything, you plunge two fingers into your tight hole. “If you want me to stop, I will. Just tell me, and I will.”

He lets go of your breast and cups your face gently for a moment. “Oh princess.” His grip suddenly becomes tight. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to destroy your spoiled little cunt.” You withdraw your fingers as he quickly spins you around so your face is pressed up against the wall. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

He spreads your thighs open with his knee and pulls your skirts up so your ass is almost on display. He rips your small cloth off and tosses it to the side. He pulls down his trousers enough so his cock springs free, then roughly pushes inside of you. He was much larger than you expected, and you whimper at the stretching sensation. Criston pounds into you without mercy until he spills his load inside you.

“You feel amazing,” he whispers in your ear before pulling out.

You use the fabric of the inside of your skirt to clean the seed off your sensitive cunny and the inside of your thighs. Feeling awkward, you say, “Thank you, Ser Criston; you’ve been most helpful.”

He grips your jaw. “Next time you wish to come here to act like a whore, I’ll not be so gentle with you.”

—

You’re surprised to see Daemon still awake when you enter your shared bedchambers. He still seems as flustered as before. You keep your head low and avoid his gaze, so he can’t see that you’ve been crying.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asks. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I’ve been looking for you all night.”

“Is that so?" you say. You walk to your side of the bed and begin to remove your clothing, which makes you feel nothing but disgust. You thought sleeping with Criston would have brought you some satisfaction, but it didn't; it only made you feel worse.

“When I couldn’t find you, I sent Ser Harwin along with some other knights out to look for you. They are searching for you at this very moment. I only came back on the off chance that you might return. I’ll need to send word to Rhaenyra, who had gone to Dragonpit looking for you; she will be relieved to know you are safe.”

You say, "She's the last person I want to see.”

“What?”

You toss the last article of your clothing to the side, pull the covers back of your bed, climb into it, and face the window so you don’t need to look at your husband, whose gaze you could feel on you. “When I left here, I went to see my sister and saw Harwin leaving her room.”

A few moments of silence pass, and then you feel the dip in the bed as Daemon gets in beside you. “I’m vaoreznuni. Harwin swore to me that there was no truth to it.”

“You asked him about it?”

He presses a kiss on your bare shoulder. “We may not have a conventional marriage, but you are my wife, my dragon, and I didn’t want you to get hurt. However, I shall feed him to Caraxes first thing in the morning.”

You chuckle at his words. He was saying it in a joking manner, but you knew Daemon would do that if you actually wanted him to. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference. Dead or not, I’d still be second best to him.”

You both remain silent as Daemon repositions himself so he’s curled up beside you, his bare skin pressing against your own, which causes tears of guilt to spill from your eyes.

“I did something I regret,” you whisper.

He places a kiss on the side of your head, “as did I. I took my anger at learning that the lady Laena was betrothed out on you, my beautiful, gentle-hearted wife.”

“Is that why you were so upset earlier?”

“She refused me when I insisted our affair didn’t need to end when she got married, but she said it does.”

Daemon craved acceptance from those he loved and most likely took your rejection as a sign you didn’t love him anymore, and with his ego already bruised, you could see what triggered his anger.

“Forgive me?”

“I will. Will you forgive me if I tell you what I did?”

“Dōna ābrazȳrys, I don’t wish to know what you did.”

His hand that was resting on your stomach moves to cup your breast. He pinches your nipple while kissing and sucking on the back of your neck, his hard cock pressing into your ass cheek.

“…Daemon…”

"Don't; I do not wish to know. I just want to feel close to you.”

His breath hitches slightly when you remove his hand from your breast, but Daemon smirks when you place his hand in your warm core. Immediately, he begins fingering you while using his thumb to rub at your clit.

You lick your palm before leaning your arm back to stroke his cock. You lean your head back to capture his lips with yours. After a few moments, Daemon slides inside you while maintaining his rubbing motions on your abused little pearl. It doesn’t take you long to reach your peak, with Daemon reaching his own shortly after you do.

Instead of pulling out of you, he holds you closely and kisses the side of your face. “I will never talk to you as I did tonight again, I promise.”

“I do love him, but I love you in a completely different way, Daemon. You’re never going to lose me; I will always remain by your side.”

I’m sorry - I’m vaoreznuni

Sweet wife - Dōna ābrazȳrys

Husband - Valzȳrys

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enkvyu · 9 months

Text

5:22pm — gojo satoru ;

there's a kind of urgency in your steps that parts the crowd of onlooking guests, and they split in half to avoid the trailing hot path you leave in your wake. cold, hard shock twists your stomach and wrings it out, heaving about the wine and finger foods you had consumed when you were still ignorant.

the clicking of your heels echos in the silent ballroom, the bottom of your gown sweeping up the marble floors and the frantic clacks only enhances your horror. if only someone could talk and shatter the silence so you no longer had to be suffocated in your own traitorous thoughts, if only someone could laugh away the situation, though you're sure you'll forever see this scene illuminated on the back of your eyelids for weeks to come.

"let the celebrations resume," a voice answers your prayers, but it is the person who says it that causes you to clamp a hand over your mouth.

even now, you can hear the beginning whispers of small talk and chatter, gossip spreading through the lavish room. it trails after you like a pungent smell, and you're certain the morning news tomorrow will have your name lined in big, bold letters on its front page.

footsteps chase after you, and you curse your gown for slowing your pace. it's inevitable that he catches up to you, just as you exit the grand hall into the balcony, and his hand closes around your arm, pulling you back.

loose strands of your hair whips across your face as you're forced to turn to your pursuer. "gojo." you swallow hard as the foreign syllables leave your mouth. "what do you want?"

the crown prince has grown over the last few years, you think. there's an aura of arrogance he lacked when he was younger, a certainty that straightens his back and the kind of confidence that allows him to chase an older lover out into the night.

gojo's eyes are haunted when he looks at you, really looks at the person you've become in his absence. the hand holding your arm trembles and falls. "why aren't you happy to see me?"

you bark out a cruel laugh. out of all the things he could ever say to you, after the raw anguish that you've never been able to express, after all the silent midnights, interlocked hands pressed tight together praying to the moon that his death was all a big, cruel joke, that was all he could say?

"do you seriously believe i would feel happy seeing you, after all this time?" it's hilarious, and you don't hesitate to let your laugh show it.

"all i could think about was you." he confesses but it's too late, years far too late.

"why didn't you tell me?" you ask instead. "did you think i could see you again and forgive you? on the spot, after leaving me in the dark for so long?"

gojo is still frowning, and you hate that he can't ever see the errors of his ways. perhaps that was the single thing that remained the same. "i couldn't put you in that kind of danger."

"gojo, i thought you were dead!" you finally explode, and the relief it feels to finally tell someone overwhelms you. you choke on the raw emotion, balling your hands by your side. "you still are to me. what did you think i would feel? i finally, finally, got over you, i finally accepted that you were gone and now you're back? now, of all times? i was going to get married, gojo! i was going to have a family, and kids, and finally live my life again. why did you have to show up?"

"your husband is a gambling addict." he says drily. "i wasn't going to let you marry some bastard like him."

"well, thanks." you say, voice flat. typical of him to only hear what he wants to hear, what he can find a response to. "thanks, gojo, is that what you want me to say?"

gojo clenches his jaw and when he grabs a hold of you again, it hurts a whole lot more. "listen to me, i didn't have a choice."

and again, you shake it off. "fuck you, gojo."

"i came back as soon as i could. i prepared all of this for you!" his voice raises and raises, and it's such a contrast to the sweet nothings he'd whisper in your ear when you were only two secret lovers hiding in the stables. “you were the only thing that kept me going and this is what you have to say now that i’m back?”

"and i would throw it all away if it would mean you had told me you were still alive."

"i didn't have a choice." he says again. "if i did you know i would have come back for you."

"do i know that?" the wind picks up and you shiver. "i waited for you. for months i thought this was just another scheme. you would find your way back to me again, because you always did. you always survived, no matter what."

"i did survive."

"but i didn't know, gojo, don't you see?" was it really so hard to understand? had it ever been so hard to convey your feelings to him like it was now, two strangers seeing a different image before them?

there's a creeping sense of foreboding that starts in your stomach and overcomes your mind, a sense that things will never be the same again. even if you were to meticulously piece back a broken faith, even if you were to abandon all sense and throw yourself into a deceitful love, the memories you crave will never be re-experienced, you will never know the pure love of gojo again.

too much has changed.

you shiver and it isn't the cold that shakes you.

gojo takes off his coat at the sight, throwing it over your shoulders and holding it tight in front of your throat. once, your heart might have leapt out at the warm gesture, but now it feels like a noose around your neck.

"i don't need your coat." you say, past all the memories. "what would your wife think?"

gojo groans, brushing back his hair as the wind rustles it in front of his eyes. "is that what it is? me being married?"

you flare up and the cold no longer seems an issue. "of course not! god, gojo, you would be the only one who would think as shallowly as that. you were dead! i saw your corpse tonight at the ball and you have me to believe that all my tears, all those sleepless nights, was because i was jealous?"

gojo breaks away, exhaling deeply. he shoves his hand into his pant pocket and shakes his head. "sorry. i just, you didn't seem happy to see me."

"you sound like a broken record." you remark. with his hands away from the coat, the sleeves flap away in the wind and it's less suffocating, but also less warm.

“i came back for you tonight.”

you were already shaking your head before the last of his words leaves his mouth. “it’s too late.”

“you don’t get to tell me that.” he growls and it’s the second time in one night that he has shown you this feral, aggressive side. “i won’t let you let me go.”

you want to cry. how long had you wanted, needed even, to hear those words? words you were sure would heal the wounds of your heart, words that would fix the world as you know it and lunge you back into the joy of past memories.

those memories are dead now, a part of you whispers, mockingly. you can’t seriously trust him again. can’t you see how he’s aged into a person you no longer know?

you curl your fingers into your dress and pierce your thigh through the fabric. “why did you chase after me?”

maybe gojo senses his chance because he answers the question without another thought. “i needed to talk to you. i needed to see you again and have you see me back.”

“well, we’re both here now. don’t miss your chance.”

gojo takes a step forward. "i'm here to tell you i'm alive. that i've been alive for the past ten years."

"i know."

"and that i'm the crown prince now."

"i know."

"i'm also married now."

"god, you're really bad at apologies." you sniffle, taking a hold of the coat and pulling it tighter. it's because the wind was getting to you, you reason. "but, i know."

"do you, do you have someone you like?" gojo coughs out, feigning indifference. your jaw drops at the topic of conversation.

"gojo, i haven't even forgiven you yet."

"i just wanted to know! the man you were meant to marry tonight, do you...?"

"no."

"okay." gojo says, and exhales. "okay."

"is that everything?" you ask, and you painfully wish that it isn't. you want him to chase after you, to hold onto your hand and keep you there by his side, to want you again. because god knows all you've ever wanted was him.

gojo raises his head at your words, searching your eyes for permission. there's a hard tint to his face you don't recognise and the blue you've once called your sanctuary is duller, lacking light. an aged scar runs across his neck, and a shoot of bitterness surges through you as you realise it had healed in the time that he was without you.

still, you let him take a step closer. closer, you can see everything that has changed at the hand of time. it makes his unfamiliar, different, your old lover wearing a stranger's skin, but it's still the gojo you know.

you have to believe that.

so when he reaches up to caress your cheek, running a thumb over a falling tear, you subdue the shiver that runs its course through you.

you bite your lip and it draws blood. gojo sees it, tracks it with his eyes and even when your tongue has swiped across and licked it away, his gaze still lingers.

"i really did miss you." he whispers and you feel his breath against your wet lips. "you were all i could think about."

"me too." you confess and his eyes flicker up to yours.

"does that mean you forgive me?" and though he smiles, there's a nervous quirk to it that you're sure only you would recognise. this was a side of him that only you saw, only you were allowed to bask in.

"what about your wife?"

"i'll divorce her. i was already planning to, we never married out of love. you know you're the only one for me."

“i know.” you lie. what did you even know about him?

“i love you.” he says and you nod, not trusting your voice to answer. “god, i love you so much.”

when he dips to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, you fight the urge to push him away when he no longer taste like how you remember.

i know you guys want that part two of the gojo imagine but listen to me, 2.5k is a lot to edit when there are tears in your eyes from chem 😮‍💨 i promise i'm not ignoring you guys i js have a lot of studying to do so !! i wrote this quick thing as a filler

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo drabble #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo hcs

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dutchess-of-fear · 7 months

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Confession At Midnight

Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Masterlist

It was hard to leave Zeff and the restaurant but I wanted to see the whole world with Sanji, and my new friends are a delight to me.

I knew Sanji since you two were kids, and you both had stayed by each other sides since then, Sanji had always had your back and protected you like a big brother, but as time past and as I gotten older I couldn't help but look at Sanji in another way.

I began to form some feelings for your blonde hair friend, but you knew it won't ever be more than friends, so I try to accept that, but still your heart aches whenever he would flirt with other girls that would come into the restaurant, after all I were just a waitress so.

As I stared off at the sea as the boat set sail to adventures unknown to me, my mind wonder about Sanji, about his dreams, seeing the all blue, I wonder what is my dream.

I then felt a hand placed gently on my shoulder, I jumped slightly and quickly glance over but was relieved it was just Sanji, he chuckled for a moment as I smiled at him, "so this will be an amazing adventure (Y/N)" Sanji said as he light up his cigarette looking up as the moon shined down upon us,

"Well it'll sure be so much fun!" I giggled, we stayed there in silence, no one else was awake except for me and Sanji, the only noise that can be heard in the background is Luffy snoring,

"You know, you never told me what your dreams were?" I looked at Sanji confused for a moment before he explained, "well, my dreams is finding the all blue, Luffy is to become a pirate king, so what about you?" I had never thought about, I mean I want to see the world but that wasn't a dream,

I thought really hard, but realise that your dream was to be with Sanji, I blushed for a moment before looking away from your friend as he held your hand, "don't worry, if you want it as a secret I won't pry into your business" I was relieved when he didn't press on to that part of the topic as he continue to smoke his cigarette,

"What about you, if its wasn't the all blue, what would be your other dream?" Sanji had thought for a moment, smoking his cigarette, before he turned towards me lifting my chin so I look directly into his most beautiful blue eyes, didn't expected to get an answer from the question

"Well for one I hope right now one of my dreams would come true" as Sanji leaned down and captured my lips into a passionate kiss that had taken my breath away,

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as we continued the sweet kiss, as we enjoyed the sweet moment we have.

We pulled away for a moment but lean our foreheads together realising in the feeling and knowing he felt the same thing as I felt towards him, "well its looks like yours and mine dream had came true" we both laugh before he finished his cigarette, throwing the finished cigarette over the boat,

I began to yawn as Sanji picked me up bridal style, I yelp in surprise before giggling, "come on my darling, you need your beauty sleep, with your prince"

#sanji vinsmoke #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x you #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece #one piece netflix #one piece live action #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji #sanji opla #taz skylar

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oddduckthatgirl · 8 months

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Pray For Us Sinners

Title: Pray for Us Sinners

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Warnings: religious guilt, religious themes, discussions of sexual themes, smut

Summary: Aemond thought himself to be a devout servant of the Seven. Until her.

A/N: I tried. Really. Don’t hate me.

Aemond rolled over, restless in his bed. He growled in frustration. Sweat covered his bare torso, the sound of his own breath was ragged in the darkness. His thoughts drifted to his betrothed; even his darkest ones. The brush of the cover over his hardness made him groan.

He was beyond frustrated. His stones ache with the memory of her laughter. He longed to hear all the sounds she could make.

Tossing the covers off his overheated body, he begins pacing the floor of his bedchamber. He never felt temptation like this before. He is a faithful servant of the Seven, despite the wrath he would love to unleash.

Lust was a new affliction to him, but he’s seen through his brother exactly the ruin it can bring. Aemond had decided long ago he would not be seduced into depravity like weaker men. He always kept proper distance with any woman he encountered. Never letting his gaze linger too long or speaking in a manner that would be offensive.

Deep down, he did not believe women to be less. They are mothers, sisters and daughters and should be treated with dignity. He couldn’t understand why anyone who called himself a man could hurt these precious gifts from the Seven. It was true he had seen a few women he thought were attractive but he put them out of his mind. They were allowed to just be beautiful without him imposing himself on them.

It was so simple. Until her.

Aemond thinks of the day they were introduced. He was convinced this would be a marriage of convenience. To keep the peace. Her family were very devout followers of the Faith and his grandsire thought the match to be amenable. Mother believed this girl to be an ideal match based on her faith and her love of reading. Aemond thought she sounded pleasant enough according to the letters; that her portrait was pleasing.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of her leaving the carriage that day. The way her golden hair shone in the sun. The shade of pink that painted her cheeks when her dark eyes met his pale one. Her voice saying “my Prince” was the finest song he had ever heard. The way her dress accentuated her shape without it being vulgar. Everything about her is exactly as it should be and more.

Then this feeling began. He was always hot blooded, fire beneath his skin. This, however, was different. Every word she spoke, every shy glance his way, and every touch burned through him. No woman he had ever met had this effect on him.

He decided that he would have to devote himself even more to the Seven. He needed guidance and strength. He knew he deserved it. All he needs to do is ask and the Seven will grant him all he needs.

He doesn’t wish to insult his lady or her virtue. He wanted to be the husband she deserved. She is a pure lady and shouldn’t even be in such lecherous thoughts.

Their wedding was in a sennight but it might as well be six moon turns away. He longed for her presence beside him but it was agony. He wondered if she felt this burning as he did but of course he couldn’t ask. That would be improper. He was sure she felt something. Her face flushes when he kisses her hand. Her breath catches when he pulls her close.

….but his lady wouldn’t trade in depravity. She spends much time in prayer, which he has taken to accompanying her to the Grand Sept. However after seeing her kneel in prayer, that pose has been imprinted into his mind. He had great difficulty concentrating on anything but how tight his breeches had become.

Ashamedly, he has used that image of her kneeling to sate his lust. He imagined standing in front of her, fingers tracing over her perfect face. The way her breath would catch when he said her name. Asking her to show him her devotion. The way she would accept his thumb pushing past her lips. The feeling of her hand unlacing his breeches. How warm her mouth would be as she took his cock. The sounds she would make.

Aemond played these thoughts out time and time again. Especially at night. Sleep would elude him for hours and even if he did drift into slumber he would dream about taking all the pleasures of the flesh with her. He would take his cock in hand, hissing with the first stroke. Never had he been so hard that it hurt. He wanted her, every way he could. Pumping himself while thinking of her lips on him instead of his hand made him a simpering mess. Writhing against the cool sheets of his bed, his moans echoed off the walls. Once the tightness would begin to coil, he would cup his stones while he fisted himself with a tighter grip. His peak would wash over him in moments; her name falling from his lips.

He could find sleep after that but when he would wake shame gripped him. He hates himself for his thoughts and actions. He would pray to the Father to not succumb to this weakness and to be forgiven for wasting his spend on his own pleasure. He would find it difficult to meet the eyes of his Lady the rest of those mornings. She would smile shyly at him and he was once again lost.

He was desperate about these feelings, so he turned to Aegon. Thinking that perhaps just once his brother would give helpful advice.

“Claim her, brother,” Aegon whispered, “all that needs to happen is ceremonial at best. The only way to get rid of temptation is to give into it.”

“We must be wed first. I will not tarnish the good name of my Lady or her house!”

“You fucking virgins. So consumed with your purity and chastity. It’s just fucking.”

“It is NOT just fucking. You give a piece of your soul to them. Every time. Perhaps that is why you have none left.”

“Save your lecture. The only other option is to relieve yourself anyway you can. There’s always the street of silk….or you do it yourself.”

Both options were not what Aemond wanted. He wouldn’t lower himself to visit a pleasure house. Relieving himself was the only suitable option, even though the thought filled him with shame.

It began only at night, after he was alone. Then he would find the need arising after breaking his fast with her and then again after any time spent together. It was affecting his training; he was distracted. He didn’t even read as much as he once had. His thoughts were consumed with her and his need to claim her.

He gripped the edge of his desk tightly now just to keep his hands away. His need is throbbing, begging to be touched. He slammed his fist down against the wood. Why was he so weak? Then she would drift into his mind: her hair falling over her shoulders, the look of complete devotion she has, the cut of her dress…

No! Aemond shakes his head as if to throw the thoughts away. He tries to think of anything else. Small council meetings, mother’s singing, time…yes, what time has it become?

Aemond gathers it must be near the hour of the wolf. The city is sleeping soundly while their Prince suffers. Lust has a hold on him: mind, body and soul.

His soul. That’s it. Now would be the best time to pray. Surely with the world asleep the Seven could hear his prayers without question. He hurriedly dresses, puts on a dark cloak and makes his way from his chambers down the secret passage that leads out from the Keep.

The streets are nearly empty except for a few beggars sleeping there. Aemond is careful to ensure his face and hair are obscured from view. No sense in any passerby to question the presence of a Targaryen Prince at this hour.

Concentrating on his journey to the Grand Sept keeps his mind busy. The need still burning in his veins feels less desperate for the moment. Thankfully the distance was enough for him to calm himself. He’s grateful that he will be able to have his wits about him for this.

He opens and shuts the doors as quietly as possible. Not that he believes anyone would be here, he still wouldn’t want to disturb them. He stands in the entryway and takes a breath. His mind is more quiet now.

He walks towards the altars, confident in what he will ask for until he hears a sound that stops him.

Her. His Lady. Begging.

“Please Maiden, I wish to be pure for him. These desires are consuming me. I do not want him to reject me. I carry such affection for him in my heart. But my thoughts….,” she lays prostrate while sobbing into her hands.

She does feel what I feel. I also carry much affection for her in my own heart, Aemond mused. He cannot bear the sound of her tears. His chest aches to hear her in such pain. He wants to rush to her side, take her in his arms, and hold her until the tears abade.

He slowly approaches. He doesn’t wish to startle her, “my Lady?”

She pulls herself to her knees and turns to face him, “my Prince! Why are you here at this hour?”

He rushes to keep her from standing and instead kneels beside her, “I was restless.”

Her breath catches as he wipes the tears from her eyes, “thank you,your Highness.”

“It’s just us and the Gods. You may call me by my name here.”

Her cheeks flush, “as you wish Aemond.”

His resolve nearly breaks at just his name from her lips, “what troubles you? I would be happy to listen if you wish to unburden yourself to me.”

She begins to speak but silences herself for a moment, “I cannot tell you. This…it’s not befitting a proper lady,” tears well in her eyes again.

Aemond pulls her into his arms and holds her while she cries. Even though the sound breaks his heart, he will not leave her to her tears. Running his fingers through her hair, he presses a gentle kiss against her temple, “all will be well ñuha jorraelagon. I’m here.”

“Not if I unburden myself. You will be completely repulsed.”

He takes the edge of his cloak and begins to wipe the wet trails on her face dry, “you would be amazed at my resolve.”

“I have no doubt of your resolve Aemond,” she wheezed as new tears threatened to fall, “it’s so shameful I fear you will find me to be unworthy of marriage.”

“No more tears. Please. It wounds me to see you so distraught,” he takes her hands in his, “perhaps we can just be still for a few moments. Find peace in this Sept together. Will you try for me?”

She frantically nods her head.

“Good. Let us close our eyes and just breathe together.”

He watches as her eyes close and she bows her head. It caused the fire in his blood to heat once more. He quickly closed his eye and began to concentrate on keeping his breath steady. He also listened for her. He tried to not think of how warm her soft hands were in his. He needed to be strong for her. To help her.

They sat quietly, hand in hand for several moments. Aemond noticed when her breathing became calm. Tension rolled out of his shoulders knowing that at least he could help calm her.

“Aemond,” she whispered in the silent chamber, “why could you not find sleep?”

He opened his eye to see her soft expression. It was one of concern. He kissed her hands before meeting her gaze, “sleep has been elusive as of late.”

“Are you well? Is it,” she glances at his scar, “perhaps the maesters….”

“All they will wish to do is give me essence of nightshade to help me find sleep. Or worse believe I have pains and wish to give me milk of the poppy. Those are not the reasons I do not find sleep.”

“If it is not physical, may I guess you believe something weighs on your soul?”

He swallows thickly, “Something does indeed.”

“And I have kept you from your prayers. Forgive me.”

She begins to pull away but he grips her hands tighter, “please. Stay with me.”

A soft smile accompanies her words, “of course Aemond.”

“I would like to propose something. First I swear to you that no matter what you may say, I will never judge you or wish you gone from my side. Can you make me the same promise? To not judge me or wish me gone?”

“Yes. I swear.”

Her tongue wetting her lips nearly has Aemond lunging for her. He shifts his focus back to their joined hands, “I did not intend on anyone else to be here. When I entered and heard a voice, I thought….it isn’t important. I heard the last part of your prayers.”

Hanging her head in shame as he mentions her prayer, “I am not worthy of you.”

He leans forward so their foreheads touch. Aemond feels a hot tear slip down his cheek, “it is I who isn’t worthy of you.”

She shakes her head, “impossible.”

“Ñuha jorraelagon, the things I have wanted…from you…someone must know what I have imagined. What I have done.”

“Aemond,” her voice waivers, “it is shameful. This sin...”

“We are all sinners my Lady,” he states simply, “we are asked to unburden ourselves with confession. It is only then we can begin to do penance and seek absolution. It should not matter who we give our confession to, just that we make it known and seek to atone for it.”

“You are correct,” her gaze shifts to the face of the statue before them, “I don’t even begin to know how to atone for this.”

“Would it put your mind at ease if I told you of my sin,” a plea in his voice. He needs her to hear him. That is the price of his lust.

“Could you tell me what is your sin?”

He nods, swallowing his fear before he speaks, “Lust. Lust for my betrothed.”

She draws a shaky breath. Her eyes drag over his body, “I too have lust for my betrothed. I have tried so hard to not think of you that way…”

“In what ways do you think of me, sweet girl?”

“That you are a good man. You are kind, despite what you would have others think. You are a man who values his family and those he holds dear. Unlike other Targaryens, you are a man of the Faith.”

“You are too kind to me,” a genuine smile is on his face, “but that is not what brought you to the Sept at the hour of the wolf. I swore not to judge you. I will not.”

She closes her eyes, “it’s just….your hands. I find myself thinking of them. How it feels when you take mine in yours or how safe I feel when you hold me. Then I wonder about your hands on….other parts of me.”

Despite her confession, Aemond takes her hands in his. His chest is heaving; he can feel his heart pounding. The fire is back, “Other parts?”

“Yes,” her own ragged breath sounds too loud in this place. She places his hands on her thighs, “everywhere. In my weakness, I have imagined what your hands would feel like on my bare skin. In….inside me.”

“Tell me,” he flexes his fingers away from hers while dragging them toward her center, “you are a lady of virtue. What do you know of a man’s fingers touching a lady?”

She bravely meets his gaze, “My sister….she never wanted for me to suffer at the hands of a cruel lord. She told me things about my body, of pleasure. Things I now imagine you doing to me.”

“What things,” he felt as though his senses had left him. He’s now so depraved that he’s harder than he’s ever been, on his knees in a Sept alone with his betrothed.

“Things,” wetting her lips before she continues “I have done with myself alone in my chambers at night. I would imagine you touching me instead. I’m so lost to my sin that I wait for the night to come so I can revel in my depravity. It consumes me.”

Aemond gently cups her cheek. He does not trust himself to leave his hands on her thighs, “You desire me.”

“Yes,” no second thoughts to her answer.

“Then I have nothing to fear. For I have desired you from the moment we met,” he brushes his thumb over her lips, “this very moment I am fighting the desire to capture your lips with mine.”

She gasps, parting her lips. His fingers trace a line down her neck and along her collarbone. His eye focused on the swell of her breasts and the small hint of cleavage.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms and you are mine. You don’t even know how beautiful you are. The hold you have over me. I would burn every city in Westeros if they dared to speak against you.”

“Aemond….”

“I want to spend every moment with you but I am weak. Even the most innocent way you smile makes me think of all the ways I wish to let this realm know you’re mine. My shame doesn’t end there my lady.”

She kisses his fingers and takes his hands in hers as if they were folded in prayer, “unburden yourself to me, my love. Although my love sounds much better the way you say it. I wish I could say it well enough.”

“You will learn,” he suppresses a groan at the thought of hearing her speaking High Valyrian, “the reason I could not find sleep is I was trying to resist my desire. Today, while we had walked in the Kingswood, that rider passed too close to you. Do you recall what I did?”

“You pulled me back against you, to keep me safe.”

“I did. However, in doing so, my thoughts were not innocent. The friction of your body against mine was too much to bear. When we returned to the holdfast, I excused myself from you. I was worried that I would no longer be able to control myself. I went back to my chambers and lost myself in the thoughts of claiming you. In truth, when I felt your body against mine, I wanted to bury myself inside you.”

Her mouth went dry.

“I went back to my chambers because I needed to relieve myself, as I have done every night. So, I fisted my cock while thinking of how warm and wet you would feel around me. About the sounds of pleasure you would make as I touched your pearl while thrusting myself deep inside you. I can think of nothing else. I have my hands on my cock more than my sword.”

It felt too hot in this stone building. Both of them flush with color from their shared confessions.

“Whatever are we to do Aemond,” pressing her knees against his, “we are not yet wed. We cannot let this control us.”

He nodded and cupped her neck in his hands, “it will not control me any longer.”

Aemond stands and offers his hand to help her from the floor. As soon as she is standing, he pulls her body against his. Her eyes dart around the room, “Aemond!”

“Did you make the journey here alone my Lady,” he purrs in her ear. She can only meekly nod in response, “good.”

He presses his lips to hers and both of them moan. Luckily their sound is muffled. He was desperate and wanting. She was pliant in his arms. His hands explored the curves of her body, squeezing the parts he enjoyed the most which elicited a gasp from her.

He silences her with his lips again, swallowing every groan he makes. Her hands travel along the lean muscles of his torso and chest, then up his arms, only to land in his hair. When he slipped his tongue between her lips, her grip tightened in his silver locks. It only seemed to encourage him more.

He pulled away suddenly, “we shouldn’t be doing this here. Someone will find us. Surely the Septa’s will be here for their morning prayers soon.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Come. We should return to the Keep while we still have the cover of night,” Aemond pulled his cloak back over his head and ensured she also concealed her identity. He watched for anything out of place, “stay close to me.”

She could feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. It made her center ache with want. She knows she cannot give in but she would like nothing more.

They quietly made their way back to the Red Keep. Thankfully no one was yet out in the city to have seen them. Aemond led her up the stairs to the passage back to his chambers.

Once inside, he removed his cloak and saw her taking in his space. Soon these would be their apartments in the holdfast. He stands behind her and whispers, “let me take your cloak my Lady.”

She watches his hands slip to the clasp of her cloak. He was painfully slow opening it but once he removed the fabric, his lips were on her neck. Soft, warm kisses up to her jaw line. He pushed himself against her backside, “see the effect you have on me.”

He spun her around and again captured her lips. He couldn’t get enough. It was like he had been starving. They both held so tightly that she hardly noticed his hands pulling a leg over his hip until she felt her skirts rise.

“What are you,” yelping in surprise as he lifts her with ease to the foot of his bed. Shame burns within her as she whines, “Aemond…please…we cannot.”

He climbs over her body as she lays against his bedding, “I will not take your virtue this night. But it would please me to hear more.”

Before she can ask what he meant, he grinds his manhood against her clothed center. Their shared moans ring through the chamber. He repeats the motion to much the same result.

“Do you wish me to stop,” his eye meeting hers as he kisses the swell of her breasts, “I will ensure you get back to your chambers without being seen.”

“Please continue,” she rasps, “I fear I might die if you stop.

He chuckles darkly and continues, “gods…I can feel your wetness through all of our clothing.”

She attempts to cover her face but Aemond claps his hands around her wrists, pulling her arms over her head. He kisses down her neck as he rolls into her, “Gieve. Just like this. Never hide from me.”

She wails when his movements become faster. She locks her legs around him. She feels the way her body begins to tighten. She has never felt this, even when she is by herself, “Aemond…what’s…I feel strange…”

“All is as it should be,” panting as his pace is beginning to falter, “don’t fight it. Give into it.”

He kisses her again, the want evident in the way he captures her lips. They are both a whining mess of sound and heat.

Aemond feels her hands tightening against him, “let go for me. Don’t fight it.”

His eye goes wide as she falls over the edge of pleasure. The sounds she makes goes directly to his cock. Soon after he shouts her name as he spills into his breeches.

He pulls himself to lay beside her. He takes her hands and presses soft kisses on her fingers, “please forgive me. I have forced this upon us. I thought I could control it. Instead…”

She watches as panic paints on his face. She quickly reaches for his face; he doesn't shrink away even as she is touching the scarred side.

He pulls himself into her and sobs, “please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I told you I was not worthy of you.”

She strokes his hair, “we promised not to judge the other. I am not judging you. You asked if I wanted you to stop and I did not. We should seek the forgiveness of the Seven for failing this small test.”

He nods as she rocks his body, “we should pray. Now.”

“I agree.”

He sits up and offers a hand to her. He kneels first. Looking up at her he sighs, “you are far more than I deserve.”

She kneels in front of him, “you are more than I deserve my Prince,” shame heats her cheeks, “what if someone hears?”

“Not here. The walls are quite thick,” his gaze fixed on her.

“We should begin,” she bows her head and begins her prayers with thanking each of the Seven.

Aemond joins her, repeating the same words he’s heard since he was a boy.

He also offers his thanks when they have finished, “I wish to thank the Maiden for sending this perfect wife to me. I’m sorry that I would let my lecherous thoughts taint her purity. Forgive her slight as I was the one who enticed her. I seek the Father’s forgiveness for my weakness. Give me the strength to not tempt her or myself further.”

“I thank the Father for sending me a man of Faith as my husband,” she smiles at the words, “forgive his slight as he did nothing to sully my virtue. He is but a man and I, a woman. I seek the forgiveness of the Maiden for my vile thoughts. Help me to not be a temptation. Let my virtue warm him until we are wed.”

The silence between them is broken by Aemond, “we shouldn’t…we cannot do this again even though it was…”

“Yes. Even though,” she agreed, “I should go.”

He nods in agreement, “at least let me lead you back through the passages. They can be confusing.”

She grabs her cloak and allows him to escort her back. She more than likely would have lost her way on her own. He pushes the hidden door open and listens for any sounds, “it is safe.”

She enters her chambers, “it will be morning soon.”

He presses a soft kiss against her forehead, “then you should try and find rest. We will have long days and longer nights ahead of us.”

“Go before I ask you to stay,” sighing as he releases her.

He takes one look back at her before disappearing into the passageways. Now that he is alone with his thoughts again, he relives what has occured. If he can endure this night, six more days should be far more simple.

Aemond settles himself back into bed as quickly as he can upon entering his chambers. He nearly drifts off when a sweet smell drifts to him. Her. The fire in his veins is rekindled.

“Seven help me.”

#aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #oddduckthatgirl #prayforussinners #aemond x you

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

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It starts really…really stupid.

The Apollo cabin is having a movie night. Will’s DVD collection is bigger than his textbook collection, which is saying something, because he is a nerd. They baited Nico with a pirate movie: then, when he was comfortable and moon-eyed and unable to keep his mouth shut for a good twenty minutes after the end credits, they started phasing in the rom-coms.

Evil. Manipulators, the lot of them; so incapable of lying that they’re masters of bending the truth. Nico would leave, except they literally barricaded the door and keep all the lights on so there are no shadows for him to duck into (something he should have questioned from the very beginning, but unfortunately as soon as the Pirates of the Caribbean theme started playing, his reasoning skills hopped on a train and fled back to the Lotus Casino in 1938. So).

“This is stupid,” Nico grumbles, not that anyone is paying him any attention. Every single one of Will’s siblings stares at the TV with their chins in their hands, completely ignoring any and all of Nico’s (very valid) criticism.

Not that it stops him. “This is less realistic than Davey Jones,” he insists, largely just so his grievances are Known and Aired Out. The leading man says something stupid and cheesy, and three seperate doofuses in his company genuinely swoon. Nico scowls as hard as he can, pulling a blanket over his head. “Idiotic and cheesy.”

Nico pointedly isn’t following the plot — not that there is one — so he has no idea what’s going on. He squints. The leading man is wearing some ugly suit, too tight, and the leading lady collapses tearfully in his arms, thanking him about something.

Will sighs dreamily. Nico scowls harder.

“When is it my turn,” Will laments.

Kayla reaches over blindly and pats him on the head. She ends up more smacking him gently and lovingly on the face, but Will doesn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t we all want to know.”

“You don’t understand,” Will says dramatically. He flops backwards, hands flailing. Nico peeks over from under his blanket. His Head Medic camp shirt has ridden up in his dramatics, showing a sliver of skin. Nico flushes and intentionally looks away, focusing on his friend’s face.

“When will a rich, attractive older man come waltzing in here and offer to put me through med school, huh? When will my dream come true?”

Nico is 90% sure that Will is joking, but without his permission, be blurts out —

“You’d run off with some guy you don’t know?”

“Without hesitation!” Will cries. He yanks himself back upright, making Nico jump, arms thrown up and forehead creased. “You know how broke I’m gonna be when I’m done school?”

Nico doesn’t answer, but Will doesn’t wait for one.

“Very! I grew up on a pullout couch, which, I love my mom, and I love our apartment, but I want — I want —”

With his long, lanky limbs and flushed face, he begins to remind Nico of a kettle. He refrains from pointing this out. His siblings, on the other hand, openly snicker at him, dividing their attention between the movie and throwing popcorn at their eldest brother’s head.

“I want an Alaskan King! And — a mahogany desk! With lots of drawers! And windows! Floor to ceiling windows! And a rooftop garden!”

He glares playfully at his siblings, who are all giggling now, pointing fingers at them all.

“Lemme tell you right now. A man walks in here offering me that and a cheque for any school I want and it’s over for you people. I’m gone. You can fend for yourselves.”

“Yeah right,” Austin snorts, disbelieving. He reaches over and pinches Will’s thigh, cackling when he squawks. “We can’t even get you to leave the infirmary at the end of your shift. You’re stuck here forever, Rapunzel.”

“Just you wait! My prince will come!”

“As if he even wants a prince,” he hears Kayla whispering to a giggling Gracie, who responds with a cheeky, “Not when he’s got a king!”

Nico doesn’t know who they’re talking about, but the fact that there’s someone — his vision goes green. He has to tamp down a genuine snarl which is — ridiculous. And out of nowhere.

He cuts another glance to Will, who is still muttering petulantly. Every few minutes, he hears something about an “open floor plan” and “high pressure showers”.

He gets a very, very stupid idea.

———

The first mistake (because that’s what it is) is easy to explain away — the Hades cabin is still under renovation.

Well. Mostly.

“Please,” Will is begging, eyes big and pleading and painfully, beautifully blue. “Please? I’ll bring movies! And Yan’s Wii! And get Cecil to lend me some of the games he — uh, acquired! Pretty please!”

Nico has to bite back the you could be toting a pack of Lastrogonian giants with you and I’d still let you in that so desperately wants to come out of his mouth.

“Bring snacks and I’ll consider it,” he says instead.

Will beams. His eyes nearly squeeze shut, when he smiles like that, and there’s nothing Nico can do about the sharp inhale that rips through his chest. He blinks the spots away from his eyes, everything suddenly a little brighter, covered in golden sunlight.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pumping his fist and jumping up and down like a lunatic. Nico is so endeared that it aches something awful in his chest, and his cheeks smart from the size of his smile. “Sleepover! After my shift, di Angelo, I won’t be late!”

Yes, you will.

“I lock my doors and set a skeleton guard to watch it at eight,” he warns with a throat suddenly dry. “I mean it, Solace. I’ll sic the harpies on you.”

Will laughs as he jogs towards the infirmary, clearly not believing him. Nico watches him go the whole way, jumping when a hand lands on his shoulder.

“You,” says Drew Tanaka, blowing a bubble with her gum, “are a humiliating case, di Angelo.”

He shoves her, scowling. His face feels sunburnt. “Shut up.”

He absolutely does not spend the day moping after the infirmary, despite whatever rumours Drew’s lying mouth might spread. He has a job, thanks. He runs three separate sword fighting classes, and the younger kids are insane, so he doesn’t have time to be distracted.

Not that he is. But. Hypothetically, if he were to be distracted, he isn’t. Yeah.

He sits with Percy and Jason at dinner, distractedly wolfing down his food. Some kind of barbecue. He is not paying attention.

“No, Jase, we can say whatever we want, he’s not listening —”

“If he decides to stab you I am going to let him —”

“What’s going on?” Nico interrupts, looking up for the first time.

Percy smiles angelically, placing his hands under his chin.

“Nothing, Nico dear.”

Jason bangs his head on the table.

“I’m gonna…leave,” Nico says, slowly. “Y’all…do whatever you’re doing.”

“You said y’all,” Percy says gleefully. “You said y’all.”

Nico flushes hotly. “I did not. Shut up before I summon Jules-Albert to run you over.”

Percy cackles. Even Jason laughs. Nico throws his plate at them as he stomps away, sprinting extra quickly past the infirmary for no reason at all.

Time seems to slow down after dinner. For all Nico knows, it actually does. It wouldn’t make a difference. By the time there’s a knock on his cabin door, the sun has well past set, and Will is smiling sheepishly.

“I didn’t hear my shift alarm,” he says, the second Nico opens the door.

Nico sighs. He bites the corner of his mouth, hard, so it doesn’t do something stupid like turn upwards or something.

“There’s ADHD, and then there’s you, Solace.”

Will leans into his personal space and presses an over-exaggerated, smacking kiss to his cheek before he can stop him. Nico goes scarlet.

“But you love me anyway!”

There are no thoughts left in Nico’s brain to refute him. The only thing shaking around up there are alarm bells and KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! repeated over and over again like a gong.

“Hngh,” he says, intelligently. Will doesn’t seem to notice, striding confidently right into the cabin.

“I brought the Wii and movies and stuff, like I promised, and I’ve been saving this chocolate I bought last time I went into the city — woah, when did that get here!”

Will freezes in the middle of the cabin, gaping. Nico nearly walks right into him.

‘That’ is the giant, brand-new bed tucked snugly in the far right corner — an Alaskan King.

Nico clears his throat, shrugging.

“Remodelling, remember? The coffin beds had to go. And no one else but me sleeps here, so. Hazel has her own bed on the other side.”

He gestures to the other corner, where Hazel’s — smaller — bed sits, empty, coral pink comforter straightened neatly. Will barely even glances at it.

“What! But I thought you already renovated the beds —”

“Temporary.”

Will squints at him for a moment. Nico squirms, trying to hold his gaze. He’s not lying — they were temporary. Of course, he only made the decision that they were temporary a week ago, but. Well. Truth is truth.

Evidently, Will decides that he isn’t going to get a real answer out of Nico or he doesn’t care to get one, because he quickly turns away and, with a running start, jumps and sprawls himself on the gigantic bed.

“Oh, gods,” he groans, and oh, gods, indeed, is Nico ever going to get a fucking break or is his face just going to be stuck like this all the time. “Gods, Neeks, I am going to move in here. I don’t even — look! I can stretch all the way and I don’t touch the edge!”

“I see that,” Nico says weakly. His shirt has ridden up again. Nico bites back the confessing comment he wants to make about undershirts and how Will should invest in them.

“Man, I feel like I could pass right out,” Will sighs, eyelashes — they are so long and so blonde who decided that who gave him that right — fluttering shut. He grabs on of Nico’s pillows and curls around it, content. Nico stares. And stares.

After too much time has passed, Will cracks an eye open, smiling slightly. “Well, don’t just stand there, Death Breath. Bed’s more than big enough for us both, now. Get over here.”

Miraculously, Nico does, managing to unglue himself from the floor and look anywhere but the long, languid stretch of Will’s body.

(They play four straight hours of Mario Kart — or, rather, Will spends four straight hours losing. When they finally fall asleep, they’re so far apart on the giant bed they might as well be in different countries — but Nico wakes up in the middle of the night with his arms around Will’s waist, and practically throws himself on the ground for the rest of the night.)

———

The next thing he does is just…embarrassing.

“I think you look hot,” Mitchell, Piper’s brother, assures him kindly. He pats Nico’s flaming cheek. “Honest. And it’ll work wonders! Will’ll be struck.”

“Why do people keep saying that,” Nico croaks. “I don’t even like him!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

With Mitchell’s unwavering — if teasing — assurance, Nico finds the courage to step out of the Aphrodite cabin and into the waning sun. He’s grateful he waited until after the summer ended to do this — the fewer people around the witness, the better. His reputation is hanging on by a string as it is.

A wolf-whistle rings out the second he steps off the porch, making him scowl. Cecil, unfortunately, is far too used to being on the receiving end of it and does not even flinch.

“Looking spiffy, Ghost King!”

“Bite me,” Nico growls back, and is only aware of the trap he’s walked into when Cecil gleefully says, “I believe that’s Will’s job, actually —”

He wisely scampers away before the skeleton Nico summoned can murder him.

The second he’s out of sight, Nico slumps.

What is he doing.

“Aw, jeez, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Lemme tell you the gar-bage I had to endure tod — Nico?”

Nico whips up to face the voice. Will stands a few feet in front of him, unmoving, wearing his scrubs today — heavily stained, yikes — and his favourite pair of ratty cargo shorts. The expression on his face is oddly inscrutable.

“Are you…going somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Nico says, flushing and repeating himself when his voice cracks three separate times. “Yeah, I’m. Um. Ambassador of Pluto duties, you know. I’m expected in New Rome in a couple hours.”

It’s not quite the truth — he is going to be in New Rome in a couple of hours, but his reason for being there is fabricated. Literally.

“I didn’t know you were visiting today.” Will steps forward, almost trance-like. His eyes are glued to somewhere around Nico’s chest, and he reaches out — hesitantly, although he’s never been hesitant to touch Nico in all the time he has known him — to brush his fingers over Nico’s collar. “This isn’t what you usually wear.”

Nico swallows. No, it is not. Usually, his Ambassador of Pluto uniform is his black toga. (It still is. If he was actually on duty and showed up in anything else, several Romans would have his head. Good thing he’s full of it.) But right now, he’s wearing a tailored, black silk suit made by hand by some dead Byzantine seamstress whose name Nico could not pronounce if he tried. Diamonds glitter in the lobes of his ears, freshly pierced, and his rings are more polished than usual.

“Special occasion today.”

Will doesn’t say anything for a long moment. His hand still curls at Nico’s collar, millimeters away from his neck, heat boring into his skin.

“You clean up nice.” An expression Nico can’t name flits across his eyes, and Nico’s breath catches, and then he’s grinning, too-wide and teasing, reaching up to dig a hand through his hair. “But maybe ditch the hair gel, Wilbur Robinson, and just let —”

“Gah! Get off of me! You’re the worst!”

Will stumbles back as he shoves him, weak from laughter, and Nico’s stomach flips.

———

The third thing is maybe the most ridiculous out of all of them — and almost gets him killed.

“I’m starving,” Will complains, apologizing to the random New Yorker who just walked into him. (Nico rolls his eyes. Will would get eaten if Nico wasn’t here — he is too soft for the city. He’s gonna get shoved into a puddle or something; he’s so unwilling to elbow his way through a crowd that Nico has to hold his hand so as not to lose him. Definitely not a city boy, that’s for sure.) “And we don’t have to meet Argus for another two hours — can we stop for food? I want something fried. Desperately.”

“I guess so,” Nico sighs, pretending to be more put-out than he is. Will doesn’t buy it for a second, rolling his eyes hard enough to hurt.

“C’mon, Nicholas Hoult. There’s gotta be a diner around here somewhere, and I still want to go shopping after this.”

He lets Will pull him around, even though they’d probably get somewhere faster if Nico leads. Will stops every three seconds to listen to a busker, or observe particularly interesting graffiti, or attempt to pet a pigeon. It shouldn’t be cute, it should be embarrassing because Will truly never gets out, but it is — endearing. A little. Even if Nico can feel his stomach eating itself.

Will brightens when he finally stumbles across some gaudy, mint-green painted, hole-in-the-wall family restaurant, beaming back at Nico like he won a sparring match rather than stumbled upon somewhere to eat. But his eyes are squished shut, the way they are when he’s genuinely excited, and some early January snow dusts his golden hair, and his nose is red from the cold, and it’s just —

It’s a lot.

They find a booth tucked in the back corner. Will slides in next to Nico, not across from him, and it makes him — flush, for some reason, cheeks glowing as bright as Will’s massive, dorky scarf.

The waitress brings them sodas. Nico doesn’t remember ordering them, but it’s cherry coke — his favourite — so he must’ve. Will has a water, because he’s annoying and pretentious, and he tries to blow his straw wrapper at Nico but he’s too fast and catches it. Will pouts.

“You’re no fun.”

“I’ll show you fun.”

He’s balled up the wrapper as tiny as possible and flicks it at Will’s face before he can stop him, except it hits him in the — eye, and Will shouts in surprise, and Nico jumps and rushes to apologise but he’s laughing too hard for it to be sincere, and Will scowls playfully at him, and Nico bangs his knee on the rickety table trying to move it and it only makes him laugh harder, and Will cracks soon, too. And he can’t sing for shit but his laughter is musical, low and baritone and a little raspy on the edges, like the country music he loves so damn much. And all the laughter gets sucked right out of Nico’s lungs as he watches him, bright-eyed, red-nosed and freezing, still wearing his stupid parka even though it’s barely below forty degrees, and he is suddenly achingly truly and obviously the most beautiful thing Nico has ever seen in his life, and he thinks oh, no. But it doesn’t hurt.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

———

(After the diner, they go window shopping, and Nico feels like he can’t function. His chest aches with new knowledge that he doesn’t know where to put. New York air is disgusting but Will smells like eucalyptus and sunshine, always, and the look on his face when they pass a dusty antique shop is blinding. He’s rambling about old anatomy textbooks and gods knows what else and Nico nods along with a stupid, endless smile on his face that he couldn’t tamp down if he tried.)

(In the back of the shop there’s a big, ancient, beautiful mahogany desk. It has a divot for an inkwell and more drawers than Nico can count. It’s nine hundred dollars. Nico pulls out the credit card his father gave him for emergencies, buys it before Will can stop him, and shadow travels all three of them — himself, Will, and the unbelievably massive desk — back to Cabin 13, passing out immediately after to the sound of Will’s shout.)

(His father is the first thing he sees in his dreams, arms crossed, legs tapping.)

(“I believe I told you that card was for emergencies,” says the Lord of the Dead, “not crises over cute boys.”)

(“You were down so bad you kidnapped your wife instead of talking to her like a normal person,” Nico blurts, and immediately wishes he would melt into shadows.)

(He wakes up to another arms-crossed, foot-tapping figure: Will lectures him for two and a half hours. He times it.)

(But Will does all his paperwork in the Hades cabin, now, skin glowing amber under the Greek fire torches, often falling asleep on the smooth wooden surface. He hasn’t spent a night in the infirmary in months. Often, if Nico can wake him, he’ll crawl into Nico’s massive bed, curling all six-two of him into a ball around the centre and puffing tiny little snores into his pillow.)

(His cabin smells like eucalyptus and sunshine all the time, now.)

———

He tells himself that this will be his last thing.

(It isn’t.)

It takes him four separate times to muster up the courage. It’s — humiliating, is what it is, and he’s never been a coward except for maybe about this one thing.

“Dude,” says Katie Gardener, the fifth time he walks by her cabin without saying something, “this is getting embarrassing. Pull yourself together.”

“I’m — pulled,” he defends, wishing he didn’t get red so damn easy. “And — what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at college, or something?”

“College ends in April, stupid,” she says, as if Nico has more than a fourth grade education and would somehow know that. He refrains from sticking out his tongue because that is Undignified, and clearly he is the more mature one of the two of them. “What do you need, flowers for Will or something? You don’t need to bother. He likes dandelions.”

“I know what flowers he likes,” Nico snaps, and wallows in immediate despair as she snickers. He should consider having Will remove whatever part of his brain is responsible for Stupid, Emotional Outbursts. Or just get a lobotomy. Whatever’s faster, honestly.

“I need — a garden.”

“…A garden.”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” he begs.

Perhaps college has somehow made her merciful — which he doubts, anyone who sustains a relationship with Travis freaking Stoll stopped worrying about mercy long ago — or perhaps he truly is that pitiful. But she relents, rolling her eyes and muttering something about stupid teenagers and refusal to communicate, blah blah blah. Nico knows he’s a mess. He would appreciate it if everyone else politely pretended he wasn’t. She comes back minutes later with a truly massive bucket of soil, a handful of gardening tools, and several packets of seeds.

“Well, you don’t have a lot of space for it, kid, seeing as your cabin is kind of tucked —”

“I want it on the roof,” Nico interrupts. He manages to keep his face in check. “Uh, that would make the most sense, anyways. It’s flat and I can get there easy and — yeah.”

She narrows her eyes at him. Years of Hermes cabin pranks have left her with a truly magnificent BS detector, but after a moment she sighs.

“Whatever, kid. Let’s go. Nothing will grow for a couple months, anyways.”

———

The last thing is what, eventually, gives him away.

The issue is that camp is crowded in the summer. And, really, he would have gotten it done in the spring, except he needed help — he needed an architect.

And he only really knew one, and her school year was kind of packed.

“You want,” says Annabeth slowly, “to entirely restructure your cabin.”

Nico squirms. “I just want to change the windows,” he mumbles.

She stares at him, fingers steepled, for what feels like ten solid minutes. At minimum.

“Kid —” Nico scowls, she is barely three years older than he is and technically almost a century younger — “installing floor to ceiling windows in your cabin will restructure it — entirely.” She pulls out a paper and pencil out of, as far as Nico can tell, absolutely nowhere, and begins to sketch. “There are foundations here, see? So everything has to be moved and reorganized to keep the structure standing. I can’t just, like…knock out the wall. It doesn’t work that way.”

Nico slumps. “So it’s not possible?”

“I didn’t say that,” she snaps, offended. “I just said it won’t be easy. Gimme a couple hours, I’ll have blueprints.”

She barely hears him as he thanks her, nose already pressed to the paper. Nico smiles at her anyway. She’s the best and brightest of them for a reason, after all, and he appreciates her help.

The walk back to his cabin is a surprisingly pleasant one. A lot of his friends (which, woah) are finally back, and Nico is realising he’s missed them, and it’s nice to see them again. It’s also nice to see camp as busy as it is, as much as he likes the quiet chill of the winter months. All the cabin doors are wide open as people sweep out the dust, shake out sheets, air out the staleness that has been locked inside some of them for months. Chatter fills every corner, and the air smells like strawberries.

His small smile widens as he approaches his own cabin — the flowers he and Katie planted a few months back have started to bloom, and with them comes the memory of Will’s gasping excitement when he’d seen them, the smile that lit up his face. They’re regular plants, but Katie — enchanted them, somehow, protected them; even when Nico is having his worst days, they don’t wither. (And they keep growing, too. Nico has taken to picking a flower every morning and leaving it in his (Will’s) desk — to brighten up the room, on paper, but the flower always ends up whenever Will is by the end of the day. (And, more often than not, tucked behind his ear, locks of golden hair caught among brightly coloured petals; a crown of his own making.)

The cabin is empty when he walks in, unsurprisingly considering how often Will is usually locked in the infirmary for the first week of camp.

(He’ll be back tonight, to do his paperwork before heading back to his cabin. Nico’ll have to be sure he actually makes it back to his cabin — Chiron has been turning a blind eye, because Will needs more sleep and Kayla and Austin can handle themselves, but the little kids need their counsellor. Well, most days.)

Nico stands in the door and realises: things have changed.

Maybe a silly thing to think. But — a year ago, this place was unliveable. Dark, and dreary, coffin-shaped and miserable, it was no wonder it had never felt like home. But the sight of Hazel’s bed (and the sketchbook she left on it last time she was here) fills him with warmth, and the windows are always open, now, so even the air feels lighter. Dozens of Will’s textbooks are strewn around the room, Lou Ellen’s jacket hangs on the back of the desk chair, a deck of cards is sprawled on the floor. A sun lamp is plugged into the wall. Nico’s giant bed is unmade. He’s got laundry peeking out of the closet doors, and he needs to clean his bathroom. A pair of obnoxiously patterned flipflops sit by the door.

It looks lived in. It looks like somewhere that can be lived in, and most of all, his friends — Will — have been living in it with him.

He swallows the lump in the back of his throat, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

It takes him time to tidy up. He leaves Hazel’s sketchbook where it is, along with most of Will’s stuff — although he shoves a couple textbooks in random drawers when he trips over them. He puts the rest of his friends’ stuff by the door so he doesn’t forget to return it, and makes his bed (which, frankly, he hardly does, because it’s a massive pain — he tucks in one corner of the mattress cover and has to freaking summon Jules Albert to get to the other. But it was worth it). He barely makes it to dinner, too distracted to hear the horn.

“Finally,” bursts a voice sometime around nine, throwing open the door and flopping on the bed. Nico smiles, setting down his game and running light fingers through Will’s frizzy hair. He groans, leaning into it.

“I hate the first week of camp!”

Nico snorts. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! It’s miserable! It’s all —” he contorts just face, mocking — “‘Will, do this.’ ‘Will, do that.’ ‘Will, I forgot how hard the climbing wall was and incinerated myself.’ ‘Will, we need you to treat the group of kids Clarisse beat up.’ Will, Will, Will! Constant!”

“How dare they take up all your time,” Nico says, grinning.

“Right! They should be less — I dunno, disastrous! I am one person! I can only be pulled in so many directions at once!”

Despite all his complaining, the slightest of smiles pulls at Will’s mouth — as Nico would expect. He’s exhausted and perpetually overworked, sure, but there’s nothing in the world Will relishes like being needed.

“I just —” He sighs, leaning further into Nico’s touch. Nico’s throat goes dry. “Man, I’m so glad we have this place to ourselves. It’s the only privacy I get. Sometimes I just wanna close the blinds and never come out, you know?”

Nico freezes. “Uh.”

“And it’s — nice, in here. Smells like you. And it just, well —” He smiles, broad and soft, and, suddenly, Nico understands his father on a level he never thought he would. If Will looked him in the eye and asked him for all the riches under the Earth, asked him to defy Zeus, asked him to rule the dead — Nico would bend time and space to do that for him. He understands, abruptly and wholly, why loving mortals ends in tragedy, why the gods promise more than they can give. He wants to give Will everything. “I like when it’s just you and me sometimes,” he says, softly. “It can be nice to disappear.”

There’s so much love bursting out Nico’s chest he doesn’t know what to do with it. He feels like every part of him is screaming his affection, every molecule is straining to meet with Will’s. He’s dizzy.

“I,” he starts, then freezes again. He doesn’t know what — what. Every thought he’s ever had hits him at once, and he can’t pick one out, can’t think with all the clutter in his head.

Will perks up. “Yes?”

“I have to. Cancel. My plans. With Annabeth.”

Will deflates. “Oh.”

There is something here, something charged, something about to change — and Nico is losing it. He panics.

“I asked her to restructure the cabin!” he shouts, startling Will. He squeezes his eyes shut instead of looking at those wide, wide blue eyes. “To! Make. Floor to ceiling windows.” He waits a bit. “Apparently you can’t just bust down the wall. You have to. Restructure.”

It’s silent for so long Nico is half-convinced Will left, if it weren’t for the faint sound of him breathing and the heat Nico can always feel leeching off of him. He peeks his eyes back open.

“Why?” asks Will quietly when their eyes meet.

Nico swallows. It takes several tries to moisten his throat enough to speak. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to…have floor to ceiling windows?”

“Same reason I wanted this massive bed,” he admits, quiet, whispering, near silent. “Same reason I — changed my Ambassador uniform. Same reason for the desk and the —” he stumbles over his words, blushing — “the garden and the flowers and — this, right now.”

“Nico,” says Will, very very quietly.

“I just. Well. You were joking, you know? And, gods, it’s been a year, now, but I think you were telling the truth? A little bit? And anyway, I want you to have the things you like, and —”

“Nico,” Will says again, louder this time, a particular quality to his voice Nico can’t name. He falters.

“…Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Nico doesn’t even have the chance to be offended. He doesn’t even have the chance to think. Before he can rationalize the situation and connect the dots in front of him, Will’s hands are sliding into his hair, his face is inches away, and then they’re kissing.

They’re kissing.

Will tastes like Blistex, like mint gum, and like the breath he sighs into his mouth. His eyes are closed, and for a full six seconds before Nico recovers enough to close his, he has the best view of his pale, fanning eyelashes that he’s ever seen — long enough to think: oh, this is a child of the sun. He smells familiar and — intoxicating. Nico never wants to know pure air again, never wants to move without the brand of Will’s over-heated hands on the back of his neck. Never wants to forget the rough scrape of Will’s chapped lips, the tiny little sounds and sighs he makes every time Nico moves their mouths, the slightest curl of his lips when he smiles, unable to hold it back. The rapid beat of his heart, pressed against his own chest.

“Nico,” he says again, slightly more urgent, pulling away just enough that their lips still brush every time he speaks, “Nico, I love you to death.”

“I would do anything for you,” Nico chokes out. He meets Will’s eyes and tries to — communicate it to him, tries to beam his thoughts into his head. “I would — move the moon and stars for you, do you understand that? Do you know how precious you are to me? My tesoro,” he says, feeling Will’s breath hitch. “Il mio cuore. Il mio cuore battendo, sole.”

For a second Nico frightens himself. He’s never spoken words like that to anyone in his life — not his mother, not Bianca, not Hazel, nobody.

But Will’s smile is radiant. And he still holds Nico, gently, and says over and over, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Something slots back into place in his chest.

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marthawrites · 10 months

Note

May I please request smut with Aemond and afabfem reader saying "tie me up and fuck me hard" and OOP Aemond didn't know he'd enjoy this a lot

AND CONGRATS!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much sweet anon 💖 You absolutely can have that! I hope you see and like this dirty lil story!

Leather and Silver

Aemond Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 2.3k+

About: There's something about your prince husband's belt that successfully drives you mad with lust.

Includes: Explicit sexual content featuring vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, improper use of a belt, praise kink, spanking, hair pulling, adult language, breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! Why does Aemond's waist look like that? Why! As always, please enjoy! ❤️

There were a hundred insignificant things you adored about Aemond Targaryen. From the first day of your arranged courtship, to the day of your wedding, and through the moons that followed, you eagerly, and patiently, peeled back the layers of your dragon prince. Quiet, calculating yet impulsive when struck just right, sharp, dutiful, and fierce.

Oftentimes, especially in the beginning, you found yourself overwhelmed by the Targaryen’s and their grandeur. It was during those times you learned of Aemond's softness. The realm would likely not believe it. For how could Aemond One-Eye, the cruel prince, be loving when he coldly disregarded anything that didn't make him stronger, more clever, and better than those around him?

Together in the court you two made a handsome pairing. A graze of his hand there, a touch of his fingertips there, and a shared gaze anywhere, had you feeling like you were the only one in the room.

Perhaps more surprising than anything you learned, however, was the discovery of Aemond's eagerness for acceptance. Behind closed doors he only wanted to be good to you, to make you think him the best; to send your pretty eyes rolling closed in bliss before staring up at him in dazed wonder, his name a tremble on your lips. A thing he'd never tire of.

Aemond Targaryen was an exemplary lover.

Before him you never shared your body with anyone. So, it wasn't as if you had past experiences to go by. But, judging from conversations with fellow noblewomen in regard to their marital bed, you made out like a bandit. You were sure to tell your husband, of course, and he wasn't quite convinced until you were putty in his arms and peacefully snoring the night away.

"I swear if I have to talk to one more lady, or bat my eyelashes at one more lord, I will go absolutely insane," you said exasperatedly, running a hand down your face in dramatic exhaustion.

An amused chuff sounded from Aemond, and a little smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. "How many times must I tell you, my darling? You needn't be so busy with everyone during these events." His voice was its normal softness as if wholly unaffected by the day's, and evening's, conversations. "Let me help loosen your hair."

"One of us has to make an effort in mingling with the fellow Houses," you retorted as you sat in front of your vanity.

"Mm… you are tired," Aemond cooed knowingly, long body easily stepping up behind you so his fingers could begin unlacing the braids and ties of your hair.

Through the mirror you smiled at him apologetically. "I'm sorry," you sighed. You relaxed against the back of your chair, enjoying the delicate tugs and featherlight stokes of his fingertips against your scalp. "Someone has to show interest and express opinions about Casterly Rock and the Lannister's decorati–"

" –it is such a bore," Aemond droned with a most unceremonious roll of his eye.

You giggled, light and happy, at your husband's reaction. Standing, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and laced your fingers at the back of his neck. "Know what isn't a bore?"

"Hm?"

"You," you proclaimed, kissing him gently. Instantly he melted against you. A sigh escaped your lungs at the feel of his arms around you as his hands slowly trailed, pressed, and held along your body. You broke the kiss to instead look up at him, coy. "Particularly with this belt. Is it a new one?"

He quirked a brow so subtly you almost missed it. "No. 'Tis the same one I always wear."

"Hm… perhaps it's the tunic that brings it out." Indeed, he'd been donning a new black leather tunic with gold embellishments. It suited him very well. "Either way, it's been driving me wild. I think I should take it off before it makes me positively insane." You left him little choice in the matter as you began to take it off. It looped here, and buckled there, and the delicate swishing noise it made while sliding out, somehow, sent a pleasant chill down your spine.

Aemond's silhouette was a thing to behold, truly: his entire body lean and sharp like the swords he wielded, with a trim waist powerful as the rest of him. How he managed to look so effortlessly dangerous and good was beyond you.

Mirroring you, he began to unlace the belt from your waist. "Seems only fair," he said with a grin, leaning down to nip your bottom lip. Without leaving your mouth or neck unattended he began to work open the back of your dress. It pooled around your feet until you were donned in only your smallclothes and stockings. He pressed up your ribs to your bared breasts, reveling in the weight of them in his hands. "These alone make my cock twitch. Can you feel what you do to me?"

"Yes," you answered as you arched into his touch. You sucked in a breath when he pinched each of your pebbled nipples. As eager for more as you were, you were more eager for his clothes to be off. Tunic. Undershirt. Trousers. You opened and pushed everything off until his attire lay scattered across the floor, lips scarcely leaving his in the process.

"I love when you're this eager. My perfect little wife. I bet you're soaked too, aren't you? My needy girl," he growled as he yanked your smallclothes off, not bothering to unlace the ribbons of your stockings.

You hissed inwardly when the pads of his fingers brushed up through your slippery folds. He grazed your clit skillfully. Patiently. You whimpered into his chest, dragging your teeth and biting any part of his porcelain skin you could. "All for you, husband."

"That's right. All for me."

He meant to only play with you. The night was still young and he had no intentions of wearing you out too early. It had been a long evening, yes, and he was sure you had pent up stress to be released before it boiled into anything ugly. With you, he had learned, a slow release was much more effective than explosive suddenness. He knew how you worked. Despite how absolutely fucking wet you were, he still went slow.

"Aemond…," you breathed, eyes bright with delight and something he wasn't quite sure of. Bashfulness, perhaps? "I…," you started, trying to find your voice amidst the nerves your question brought and the delicate pressure of pleasure. "I want.. would you.. would you tie me up with your belt? And fuck me? Hard…"

That got his attention. He regarded you with curiosity, eye bright with challenge. He gripped onto your hips and turned you around – your back to his front – stepping towards the bed. "You want me to do what, now?"

This whole time you'd been holding his belt. Now, you dragged it between your hands as a blush bloomed across your face. The underside of his cock nestled against the small of your back, searing, and the space between your thighs throbbed. "Tie me up with it. Please..! Gods, how can a stupid belt look so sinfully good on you? It's just a dumb piece of leather but I find myself staring at it, and you, too often than I care to say!" Words erupted before you could hold them back. You blushed deeper and felt half silly. "I want… I want to feel it tied around my wrists. And.. and you, using it to use me.."

"My darling little wife, this is new," he said by your ear. He took the belt from your hands and slowly pulled it up the front of your abdomen, breast, and shoulder – mindful to let you feel every inch of leather and silver alike. A secret grin dimpled his mouth at your shuddering reaction. "So sensitive. Have you thought about this often?"

"A few times…"

He continued trailing it along your body. He did love that belt. So much so that the wonderfully worn leather felt like butter across your skin. "Put your hands in the small of your back… yeah, there, just like that. My good girl. Listening so well." He muttered soft praises as he wrapped the belt around your wrists, looping and securing, before testing the buckle of the bind. Fully secured. "Mayhap I should buy you leather garb. You look so lovely bound by it," he whispered hotly by your ear as he shoved you forward onto the bed.

You gasped, easily falling onto the mattress. Using your knees for support beneath your body, you were effectively face down and ass up for your dragon prince. The position had your cheek squished against the soft quilts. "Please, husband, I need you," you simpered, quivering, knowing your most private areas were on full display for him; wrists folded and tied together at the small of your back.

He tutted. “And here I thought I would build you up nice and slow tonight after being such a good wife in court. So charming and pretty. Dazzling everyone with your smile…,” he smirked with a tilt of his head, regarding you with adoration and lust alike. “Eat your sweet cunny real nice and slow… only after making you peak on my fingers.” His voice was lower, now, and somehow it seemed all the louder. “But that’s not what you want, is it? You greedy little thing. You only want to be bound and used as a silk whore. Like a cheap thrill.”

From your angle you couldn’t see him. Alertness trickled your skin. You yelped as his palm slapped down against your upturned ass – once on each cheek, and twice on one for good measure. Your spine arched lower; slick glistened on your inner thighs. A fourth made the back of your throat burn with unshed emotion.

“You are sooo wet,” he mocked, tugging on his cock. “All from me and my belt? I wonder what my boots do to you? My gloves?” He lined up with your pink, glistening folds. The swollen head of his cock sunk easily past your drenched opening, your walls clamping on him as if to guide him right where you wanted him to be.

Honestly you’d never given much thought to his boots or gloves, but now your mind was wandering with lewd images of both in increasingly depraved ways. “Yes! More, husband, fuck me hard,” you whined as your toes curled in beautiful anticipation. Your breath trembled in your lungs; you were shuddering beneath him.

The fingers of one hand sunk harshly into the soft meat of your hip while the other gripped your bound wrists as if he were flying. In a single movement he rolled his hips forward and wholly filled you. He was barely nestled in you for the briefest part of a moment before he pulled back, cock almost slipping out, and shoved back into your desperate cunt. Again. And again. Firmly. Harshly. Roughly. Each time his lean pelvis slapped against you his stones grazed your clit and you thought you were going mad from the sensation. If the Gods were indeed real, they were here. Surely this is what their grace felt like. Bliss, pure and simple and breathtaking, glowed within you.

Using the leverage he had over your body he pulled you into each of his thrusts. “My good girl. My cock hungry wife. Taking me so well. Fuck– you’re taking all of me so easy. My very own slut,” he growled through his words, abdomen flexing and tightening with the effort of his movements.

Your wrists swirled in their restraints, fingers flexed into and out of fists, and the back of your thighs burned from being in this position for so long. Your eyes rolled into your head as Aemond fucked you ruthlessly – just what you wanted – using your body for his own pleasure. Your mouth hung agape. Head empty. Only incoherent babbles and pleas came from you amidst the obscene slapping noises of your crashing bodies.

He finally released your hip only to squeeze into your hair. He relished your little whine as he fisted his hand, tension pulling at the roots of your hair. “Gonna plant my seed right here in this pretty little womb. Gonna fill you up with silver haired babes,” he panted, his hot breath almost cool against your skin. He was rutting into you as deep as he could, now, motions sloppy as he chased his high.

“Yes! Please, Aemond. I want all of your babes.. Fuck–!” You squeaked.

With one final snap he nestled fully into you. A series of twitching throbs echoed throughout his entire manhood and your dragon prince groaned through his orgasm. You were gifted with one at the same time; your moans of release like music to Aemond’s ears, heart, and ego. Sweat sheened his skin. His hair was skewed and messy.

Slowly, easily, he pulled free from you. “Are you okay?” He asked as he began to unbind your wrists. “You got me carried away there.” You didn’t have to see him to know a blush burned the tips of his ears, a shy grin on his face.

Once unbound, you rolled over to your back and smiled up at him, eyes glazed as you basked in the post-orgasm sensations. “More than okay,” you said with meaning.

He leaned down and kissed you with all the softness he possessed. “Good. I didn’t think I’d enjoy that so much, and I want to make sure I didn’t hurt you.”

You giggled. “I’m sure I will be sore, but it will be a good sore. Thank you for indulging my silly wish.”

“Keep thinking about my boots and gloves, my love, mayhap you can pick a favorite.” He pulled your naked body against his and buried his nose into your neck, content to lay there and pepper you with lovebites until he stirred, ready, for a more gentle second round.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ❤️

Masterlist

To be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @targaryenbrainrot @ruby-dragon @chompchompluke

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @teamaemond @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond imagine #request

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sefinaa · 5 months

Text

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮.❞

Your future lover message to you.

YouTube | Masterlist

Tips | Paid Readings

Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.

18+ readings | Divider

Pile 1:

My patience for you

my dearest, please take care of your needs and heal your inner child. I cannot see you go forth without you caring for yourself.. please, if you cannot for yourself, at least for me.. take care of yourself.. because I love you too dearly for you to waste your time doing nothing that shall help you in the near future.. and I cannot let you do that; I want to see you—I want to kiss you and whisper sweet nothing into your ears after we make love.. I want to see you smile every time I say something silly, in reality those stories are real, but I make it stupid just to see you smile.. so please for me and to see each other quicker, please take care of yourself.

I shall be waiting for you,

Your prince charming –

Pile 2:

Proud of you baby

HI I HOPE YOURE DOING ALRIGHT, IMAGINE ME YELLING IN EXCITEMENT, HEHE.

SOOO YOU GOT A PROMOTION, THAT’S AWESOME! CONGRATS BABE, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU AND I HOPE YOU WORK HARDER TO ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS AND KICK ASS OF THOSE SEXIST MEN IN THE STEM MAJOR. ALSO ILL KICK THEIR ASS TOO.

UMM, I THINK MY MESSAGE TO YOU IS TO MAKE SURE YOU EAT PROPERLY BECAUSE I KNOW YOU STAY UP ALL NIGHT, PULLING AN ALL NIGHTER TO GET YOUR ASSIGNMENTS DONE BUT FOOD IS ESSENTIAL AND HYDRATION. SO YEAH GET THAT FIXED SO MAYBE YOU CAN—DURING YOUR BREAKS EAT SOMETHING PLEASE AND PLEASE SLEEP BETTER FOR ME.

THANKS SO MUCH AND ILYVM XOXOXOOXXOOXXOOXOXOXOXOX

Pile 3:

I won’t give up on you

I can see you changing your life and I see that you met someone you don’t trust.. and that’s okay, I know you struggle with trust issues, but please know—that’s me. Its okay not to trust me now, and please don’t until you feel comfortable enough to open yourself up to me. I know youre an introverted person and that’s okay. Ill be the boat you will sail on and find that treasure on your map. I will be your rock when you play .. rock, paper, scissors.. ill be your armor when youre sobbing and ill be the one saving you when you start drowning in your trust issues once more.. and I’ll fight for you when you try to push me away again.

So go ahead and try but you cannot get rid of me because we are meant to be and that’s final.

Pile 4:

You’re the reason why I became so romantic

When the moon shines onto the river, we see a beautiful reflection shining, letting the people see the beauty and that is what I see within you, my love.. youre one dashing love and I cannot get enough of you especially during love making, but this isn’t a love letter I suppose.. this is my message to you and you shall receive it after I say what I love about you.

Youre one beautiful lover, the way you smile at me as I write and do my homework, waiting for me to be finished so we can cuddle and watch your favorite, us both laughing as it gets to the funny scene and then both saying we wont watch that same Disney movie once more, but we do. An endless loop of laughter.

From those to when we take a shower together but there is never any thoughts of doing the deed, only thinking of making sure the other is okay and properly cleaned, your innocence is the most beautiful as this world is truly a mess, but I shall never ever take advantage of your pureness as it floats my heart anew when I think of you and wishing I could give you flowers for all of eternity.. that is the love we shall cherished as this is what our love shall be.

So my message to you my dearest is, please keep being the most beautiful that you are and keep your pureness as it is the most beautiful of them all. As you are the most tantalizing flower one can pick and cherish, let it grow and feed it with water and sunlight as you watch it grow into the magic you wished you had seen the first time you lay your eyes on.. and that is you. you are my flowers and you are the magic within that I truly didn’t know I deserved or needed, so thank you my dearest and thank you for accepting me for who I am.

- Your dearest.

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beiq2y · 1 year

Text

NEW YEAR’S KISS¡! ❞

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀ ༊*·˚ Warnings - they kiss lol, bachira follows u arnd 😭 not in a creepy way tho!

༊*·˚ Characters - isagi, bachira, rin and sae!

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀

ISAGI has been waiting for u! Just like the wonderful best friend he is, isagi will be by your side the entire party. Making sure no one spikes your drink, ensuring no creeps are staring at you weird, and most importantly of all, keeping your lips for him and only him. When the time comes he turns you to face him gently, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he looks you in the eye.

five.

“ i guess there’s no one else around here but us, huh?” isagi murmers, giving a nervous giggle as you simply smile back

four.

“ well; i supposed i wouldn’t be against my best friend stealing my first kiss” you beam, grinning as you lean in closer

three.

isagi can smell you everywhere, the scent of your perfume filling his senses and intoxicating him. it makes him sweat, nervous to make the next move, you’re just so.. you! so perfect and so sweet, the thought of even touching you making his guts twist and turn.

two.

you lean in closer and he thinks, “this really wasn’t how it was supposed to go..” he was supposed to be the one in charge, the handsome prince charming who would sweep you off your feet and capture you in his arms before claiming your lips as his. So.. why were you the one taking the lead instead?

one.

isagi barely has anytime to think before you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick peck on his lips before pulling away, a teasing smirk gracing your face.

Instead of feeling euphoric and over the moon like he imagined himself to be, isagi’s flustered state quickly transitions to disappointment and then confusion. were first kisses usually this.. anti climatic?

but as he stares at your slightly rosy cheeks and small fidgety movements, isagi can’t help but bring out his ego.

it didnt matter if this one was quick, there would be more in the future. much, much longer ones, and he would ensure to savour them all. after all, a new year meant change, right?

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀

BACHIRA chases you around. he needs to be your first kiss, he has to be! he watches you from afar(not in a creepy way ofc), following your every move and occasionally making small talk - after all, he needed to make sure you liked him enough too! he strikes while the iron is hot, leading you to a place where he’s certain you’ll be alone, just in time for the new year to begin.

five.

now that you were here, bachira doesn’t know what to do. he had never included a reason for dragging you to a secluded corner in his little plan, and now that you were with him,, well it was just a bit awkward, he would say.

four.

surprisingly enough, you don’t seem to be too opposed to his antics, tagging along almost as if you were grateful to be in this position, never even questioning his motive. if bachira didn’t know any better, he was sure that was what he would’ve assumed, from that gleam in your eyes to the pinkness of your cheeks.

three.

three seconds left on the clock. at this point, there was no turning back, might as well follow through with his plan! he gives you a close-eyed smile, knowing that if he couldn’t see you, it would at least make some of his nerves go away.

two.

he opens his eyes after a while, giving himself a moment to take in all your beauty - the way your dress perfectly outlines your body, the body that would fit oh-so perfectly in his hands. the way your hair had been done perfectly, looking so smooth and silky that he would give up all the money in his possession to run his hands through them. and your makeup, so well done by those delicate hands of your’s, and he can’t help but wonder if your lipstick would leave a stain after the kiss. he would look good with some lipstick, wouldn’t he?

one.

the clock hit 12 and before he could even think about making a move, you leaned in, looking him straight in the eyes as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. With that, you were quick to dash, leaving a slightly confused and very red Bachira behind,

Oh well, a little more chasing without hurt, he supposes.

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀

RIN would be tricked into it. It had been pretty obvious that the boy had been crushing on you, HARD. With the way he stared at you in the hallways, to the look in his eyes when you were mentioned, there was no other way to describe it. So when isagi and bachira realised New Years was coming, they crafted a plan to get the two of you together.

Five.

Both you and rin were still slightly flustered from suddenly being trapped in a room together. Who would’ve expected that a casual talk with bachira would lead to a dark isolated room, before being ditched to fend for yourself when Rin itoshi showed up? It was almost the new year, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t wishing for rin to be your new year’s kiss. But the fear that he may have had someone else on his mind, that your feelings weren’t reciprocated held you back from looking for him, and stealing that kiss right off his lips. But maybe like this, you would have a chance!

Four.

“Rin, um if you don’t mind, could you possibly be my new year’s kiss? The door here is locked and i.. well I really wanted to have a new year’s kiss yk? Start the year right and all” you blurted out, a nervous grin appearing on your face. It wasn’t the best excuse, but with only 4 minutes on the clock, you simply had to make do with what you had.

Three.

To your surprise, he nodded, almost without hesitation. Could it be that.. he wanted this as badly as you did? You didn’t want to get your hopes up but just the notion of it set your heart ablaze, a sudden burst of confidence warming you from your head to your feet.

Two.

To say he was elated would be an understatement, to rin, this is practically a dream come true! At this moment and this moment only, as rin looks your form up and down, he just might be willing to throw away his pride and thank his two um, friends for giving him this opportunity.

One.

Rin’s still too out of his head to realise the clock’s hit twelve when you go up on your tippy toes, cupping his face in your palm and you press a kiss to his lips. ”she’s gentle and warm,” rin thinks as he reaches out for you when you pull away, desperate for more. Now that he’s had a taste of you, rin itoshi simply can’t get enough. And you’ll let him pull you back for as many kisses as he pleases.

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀

SAE would be next to you simply by luck! Now it’s no surprise that Sae itoshi the prodigy and japan’s national treasure would be surrounded by girls on new year’s date, an unspoken battle between them to steal his kiss on the start of every year. Unluckily for them, Sae has seen this coming from miles away, and before anyone can notice, he quickly slips away from the crowd of girls starting to surround him.

Five,

There are only 5 minutes left on the clock when Sae thinks he’s finally safe, seeking shelter at the poolside, currently vacant of any people. Well, at least that’s what he thinks. All feelings of false security from before had come crashing down when he saw a tuff of hair across the pool from the corner of his eye. Sae cursed under his breath and was about to dip when suddenly, he heard a silent “Sae?”.

Four.

Sae thinks he’s dreaming, after all, it wasn’t uncommon for him to hear your saccharine voice ringing through his head even at the most random of times. However, just to check, he whips his head around and there you are. The dazed look on your face quickly transitions to a smile and he feels one start to form on his face as well, after all, if there was one person he wouldn’t mind kissing, it would be you.

Three.

Sae starts to make his way to you, all the while checking that there was no one else around to disturb the two of you. It would be fine if someone stole his kiss but he didn’t think he could handle it if he saw some other rando connect his lips with yours. Just the thought alone made him pick up the pace, taking larger steps and reaching you in record time.

Two.

Sae hardly has time to catch his breath before you hold his hand in yours and he has to use every inch of his self control to resist blushing a bright crimson red. the feel of your smooth porcelain like skin against his calloused hand and the bright smile of your face makes him light up, a soft smile adorning his features.

One.

Seeing that the clock had struck twelve, Sae quickly gathers his composure as he begins to ask, “Can I ki-“ before he can finish his sentence, the auburn haired man is cut off by a small peck on his lips but before you can let go, he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you closer, while your hand wraps around his neck.

Well, this year certainly started off with a blast.

❀——————❀——————❀——————❀

A/n: hello everyone! Happy new year 🎆 I hope 2023’s been treating u all well 🫶 also this most likely will not have a part 2 lest someone asks for one but I hope u enjoyed it! It really was so tiring writing this in a day 😭 I’m last min cramming my hw rn btw bc sch starts in 2 days, so I’m sorry if I’m not very active here. Still, I hope u all had a great hols and a very good 2023 💗 also I’m once again begging for people to interact w me, I don’t bite I promise

tags : @noheartsfromsie , @geeerage , @enraa-ged (ily pookies i hope y’all have the best year)

#beiq2y #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi Sae x reader #Sae itoshi x reader #Sae fluff #Isagi fluff #bachira fluff #rin fluff #blue lock hcs

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