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wileys-russo · 2 months

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putting the ex in sex II j.hermoso

18+ mature content, minors DNI!! - alexia and jenni never dated in this bc i said so. this is my first time posting anything 18+ so be nice (i may end up deleting it who knows) but strap in my friends, she's a long one at 12K.

putting the ex in sex II j.hermoso

when you finally broke up with jenni after three years together it felt like your entire life came crashing down and your world shattered around you.

you'd fallen in love hard and fast with the tall tattooed striker and from the moment you were introduced it had always been near impossible not to be drawn to her enigmatic charm and wolfish grin.

her charisma and effortless self confidence could just as easily be written off as arrogance to someone who didn't know her, not helped by the often cocky smile plastered to her face.

though you couldn't deny you'd found her attractive from first glance, your best friend alexia introducing the two of you when you finally signed for barcelona a season after jenni had returned.

you'd briefly known of jenni before you'd properly met her, having seen her scattered across your friends social media posts and stories over the years.

you'd grown up with alexia and though you were a couple of years younger than her you were incredibly close, and you found yourself often looking to her like the sister you'd never had.

which is why she'd been nothing short of devastated when despite going through the academy together you weren't offered a professional senior contract with your home club like she was.

you instead signed with atlético madrid and alexia had been heartbroken when you moved across the country. but despite that the two of you stayed just as close and you slowly climbed up the professional ranks, using your rejection from barcelona to only push your football to new heights.

you bounced between a few different clubs through spain as you grew up, even making the move over to germany to play for wolfsburg for a couple of seasons later on in your career, the different style of football helping your development even further.

and it paid off as finally in the same year you'd received your first national call up for spain you were offered a contract with barcelona, alexia having caught wind before you'd even had time to consider, calling you and yelling at you that if you didn't accept she would personally fly to germany, forge your signature, kidnap you and bring you home in her suitcase.

and so signing with barcelona in 2020 you were delighted that you already knew a few of the girls from your various other clubs. mainly having played alongside both ingrid and fridolina in germany before they'd moved, as well as maría, or mapi as she preferred to go by, for a couple of seasons during your time at atlético.

so welcomed in with open arms and unable to shake alexia from being stuck to your side even if you wanted to, it didn't take long before your place within the team felt cemented and secured.

but there was always just one thing lingering at the back of your mind day by day, jenni.

from the moment you'd both been introduced the older girl had kept an eye on you, unable to quite put her finger on what it was that had her so drawn toward you.

though the more time you spent together, even mostly in small groups, the closer you both became.

everything started to shift when after a particularly lavish win over real madrid and eight days between your last match and the next you all decided to go out that night as a team.

one or ten too many tequila shots consumed jenni was unable to keep her hands off of you as you pulled her with you to the dance floor, grinding your body against hers now it was flooded with liquid courage and too many shots of your own.

it was safe to say one thing lead to another and you found yourself waking up that next morning in a bed that wasn't yours, trapped by muscular tattooed arms that also weren't yours, and with your naked body pressed against another that also was not yours.

before you had time to panic and think of an escape route to avoid any awkwardness jenni had stirred beside you, one bright green eye cracking open tiredly as her lips curled into a lazy smile.

"so, does this mean i can take you to dinner tonight guapa?"

it didn't take many of those little dinners, lunches and drives to and from trainings with her and some certain added benefits, before you came to the abrupt and sudden realization that you wanted more, you wanted her.

though jenni beat you to the punch appearing on your doorstep that week with a large bunch of flowers and the signature bright eyed cocky smile you swooned for, asking you to be her girlfriend.

the striker was barely able to get the words out before you were nodding eagerly and launching at her, her laughter at you silenced as you'd smashed your lips to hers, flowers discarded on your kitchen counter as she was quick to carry you off to the bedroom.

and for the next couple of years you continued to only fall harder and faster for her, moving in together after a few months and rapidly ticking off the boxes one by one toward building a life together.

but everything came to a screaming halt when one night she'd sat you down and came clean about her intentions to move to mexico once her contract was up with barcelona at the end of the season.

you wanted to be mad, you wanted to yell at her and hit her and cry out about how she was leaving you and leaving the life you'd built together behind.

but you couldn't, you loved her far too much to ever be that selfish knowing that over the last couple of months that twinkle in her eyes when on the pitch had dimmed just a little.

so you promised it didn't change anything as you started to help her pack her half of your shared life together into boxes, spending nights curled up in bed together planning about how you could continue this on opposite sides of the world, blinded by the fierce love budding in your hearts for one another to even consider otherwise.

the day she finally moved you'd never deny she took a piece of your heart with her which you trusted she'd look after, your girlfriend having made your best friends promise to look after you in her absence as she left behind her own half a heart in your safe and trustworthy hands.

and for the first six months things seemed to be okay, they were far from perfect as your relationship did its best to career over the inevitable speed bumps of the now permanent distance between you two, but they were okay.

but in all your forward planning what you hadn't accounted for was jenni's jealousy turning from something you found endearing, to something far far more toxic when it inevitably began to rot at the foundation of your now long distance relationship.

at first in the honeymoon stages of getting together you'd found the older girls jealousy quite flattering knowing it came from a place of sheer adoration and infatuation with you.

you'd melt when jenni's hand would firmly wrap around your waist or sit on the small of your back when out in public together, part of her skin always needing to be touching you no matter what. the way that her lips would graze the back of your neck or your shoulder blade as she pressed her taller body against yours.

but when jenni moved to another country and suddenly she wasn't able to seek out that physical assurance you were hers and only hers, it started to eat at her much more than she felt able to communicate, the fear of how others might perceive you without her there to assert that you were a very happily taken woman eating away at her.

you'd go out with friends and be bombarded with call after call from your girlfriend, demanding to know a list of who you were out with and proof that you weren't lying.

you'd tried time and time again to ask her where this sudden distrust came from, the questions dismissed as jenni noticed through videos on your friends stories a few of the newer signings gawking at you in ways only she was allowed to, your body hers and hers only to fantasize about.

the rampant calls and constant need to know where you were and who you were with then shifted into trying to police what you wore. the moment you even hinted at leaving the house for a social commitment jenni would be face timing you and ordering you to allow her to pick your outfit.

of course this need of jenni's to seemingly control every little aspect of your freedom and autonomy didn't sit well with you, and you often found yourself lying about plans just to avoid the arguments you knew would arise when you didn't give into her every single demand.

this in turn only meant your fights became uglier, more personal, both of you knowing exactly where to hit the other where it hurt. then suddenly that fierce love which had kept you connected, that invisible string which was always drawing you together despite the distance, snapped.

you still loved jenni, you really really did, and she would always have that piece of your heart you'd given her to take when she'd left for mexico.

but you just couldn't continue on like it was between you both anymore.

when you'd initiated the conversation about how you were feeling and she'd for once made no move to argue with you or fight for the relationship, it hurt like hell but you knew you'd made the right choice as you both confirmed your split.

jenni had already been playing in mexico for a season when the two of you parted ways so at least it removed the awkward possibility of playing on the same team anymore and having to see one another near daily as you adjusted to life now properly apart.

unsure if it had been a blessing or a curse an invisible game of tennis seemed to occur, with you and jenni seeming to bounce from injury to injury between you, paths never crossing for months as you weren't called up to national duty at the same time.

you'd barely spoken since the break up bar a few very basic congratulations on achievements or apologies for injuries exchanged over instagram before you'd made the first move and unfollowed her which she followed suit, numbers never deleted from one anothers phones but texts threads long gone.

despite how much it hurt to see them one thing you couldn't seem to bring yourself to do was delete your pictures with jenni, instead moving them all to a locked folder in your camera roll which alexia had put a password on and refused to share with you 'for your own good'.

despite her obvious long term loyalty to you as your best friend for more years than could be counted on both hands you knew alexia and jenni were still friends, as your ex still was with most of your current team mates both for club and country.

which lead for the first few months following your break up to a series of icy interactions at social events for these shared friends, both of you refusing to even acknowledge the other despite your friends attempts to ease the tension which you both flat out denied was there, claiming you'd moved on and all was fine.

you hadn't of course, not even close.

you'd tried time and time again to be with other women but found yourself loathing your ex even more for the fact that no matter what you tried jenni still rented a permanent space in your mind, and no one compared to the way she knew you and your body.

you had no idea but it was the same situation for jenni, the striker throwing herself into countless situationships and hookups as a coping mechanism for the gaping chasm you'd left in her life since you exited it, but nothing came even close in satisfying her the way being with you had.

when it had hit almost a year since your split you were invited out for mapi's birthday, eager for a night of drinking and dancing after you were finally cleared medically after suffering a small tear in your hamstring.

since jenni was in town visiting friends and family she too had been extended an invitation, something you'd had no idea of given neither of you had the other on social media and jenni hardly felt obliged to send her ex a text message with a spontaneous heads up of her whereabouts.

"you didn't tell them!? por dios maría!" alexia smacked the younger girl upside the head when she'd revealed the truth as they got ready together, you running late as you'd had some car troubles, something in the past your now ex girlfriend would have been your first call for help, though now single you'd had to rely on a mechanic instead.

"you said you told them amor!" ingrid groaned in agreement as mapi shrunk under the disapproving gazes of the taller women in front of her.

"i want them both to come! if i told them they might not have gone, and it is my birthday. do i not get a say in who comes?" mapi tried to defend herself to no avail, shrinking further as both her best friend and girlfriend lectured her tirelessly.

but they were cut off as the buzzer went, mapi quick to dart away and punch in her code letting you into the building, grinning as you flipped her off through the camera and disappeared into the elevator, knocking on the door a few minutes later.

"feliz cumpleaños puta!" you sang out happily as the defender opened the door, nearly falling onto her ass as you launched at her in a bear hug.

"why do you two look so miserable? i know you hate fun ale but tonight is not about you." you dropped down from mapi's back and squeezed your best friends shoulder sympathetically who huffed and pushed you away making you grin.

"jenni is going tonight." alexia blurted out as both mapi and ingrid winced and you gave them a strange look, handing the birthday girl a bottle of tequila as she kissed your cheek gratefully and zoomed off to grab shot glasses.

"and this is why you both look so nervous? está bien amiga's, we're both big girls i'm sure we can be in the same room for a few hours." you chuckled, everyone surprised at your reaction but deciding not to push it further.

well, two out of three did as mapi returned and clapped calling for shots.

"alexia i will be on my very best behaviour, promesa. now stop scowling you will get wrinkles abuela!" you teased as mapi handed you both a shot and the brunette hummed. "you better be, i do not feel like breaking up a boxing match tonight." your best friends eyes rolled as you bumped your shoulder into hers.

"hey the only person who wants to fight me when i'm drunk is maría." you pointed out as you all downed your shots and the birthday girl laughed, clinking her shot glass against yours with a wink

"sí, and i always win!"

the room full of your friends cheering as mapi entered you and alexia broke away from the group which surged toward the birthday girl to greet her, heading toward the bar as jenni spotted you and nearly choked on her drink, misa hitting her on the back with a concerned look.

though as laia poked her and nodded in your direction everything suddenly made sense.

"what? i swallowed a bug." jenni dismissed the knowing looks from her friends, a slight blush coating your cheeks as her eyes couldn't help but note the very short dress hugging your curves in all the right places, something stirring in her stomach at the way alexia's arm wrapped around you as you both ordered a drink.

but she swallowed it down as quickly as it reared its head, turning her body away from you and making an effort to converse with the small group she was sat with, perfectly content with pretending you didn't exist.

you managed to avoid one another for most of the night, the group now halved as nearly everyone was tipsy to say the least and twirling one another around on the dance floor, poor ingrid left to babysit a very drunk mapi who had already been threatened with being kicked out as she tried to get up on the tables and dance.

"hola." jenni tensed a little at your voice as you finally appeared beside her, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar as your ex sent you a polite smile. "hola." she greeted back, fingers drumming anxiously against the counter top.

"cómo has estado?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as jenni looked back to you in surprise, assuming the simple hello would be all she'd get out of you which she'd been fine with.

"eh fine, and you?" she asked as you smiled, something which actually seemed sincere as it met your eyes. "only fine? you just won the league, no?" you laughed, a melodic little noise which jenni had forgotten how much she'd missed.

"sí, maybe a little better than fine then." jenni grinned, both of you falling comfortably into conversation as a few of your friends watched on cautiously from afar as if awaiting a bomb to go off.

but when after around ten minutes you hugged and parted ways their worries eased, both of you assuring everything had been friendly and you were just catching up, reminding that just because you'd not worked out romantically didn't mean one day you might not be able to be friends.

and in the moment both of you had truly believed that might be possible.

nearly a year of build up and finally it happened, the squad roster for the world cup and prep camp was announced and both your own and jenni's names were on it, you'd be playing together again for the first time since your split.

not having spoken since mapi's birthday an olive branch had still seemingly been extended, jenni following you again on instagram as after a couple of days you'd done the same though you'd not interacted bar a few odd likes on posts.

despite alexia's obvious concern you waved off her worries, assuring you had both come to an agreement of sorts at mapi's birthday that you'd like to try and be friends if not at least civil and polite with one another.

your best friend was suspicious but supportive, the two of you arriving to camp together and embracing all of your national teammates you'd not seen in months now as everyone spent the afternoon catching up.

and much to everyones surprise the entire camp and tournament you and jenni seemed on good terms, you'd not hung out or interacted very much one on one but given you were all quite close with the same small group when away on national camp you'd had no issues spending time together in that setting.

as you all flew to new zealand and the tournament kicked off you hugged one another after victories and consoled each other after the loss against japan, any lingering tension melting away as you settled into this new normal building between you both.

everything had been fine and it seemed like you were well on the right track to indeed being friends again, but then you'd won the world cup.

the night of celebrations following your victory had been hazy to say the least, alcohol flowing like water as you all danced and drank and celebrated late into the night.

you had no recollection of going to bed and so waking up with a body beside you you'd assumed it was likely alexia. given it wouldn't be the first time your best friend had dragged you to bed with her when you were far too drunk to walk there yourself.

but as you shifted and groaned quietly at the way your head pounded, an arm settled over your torso pulling you a little closer and you cracked one eye open, very quickly realizing you were half naked and there was an all too familiar ache in your lower body.

and the arm currently holding you was in fact not alexia's.

"oh dios mio. por favor no!" you groaned a little louder this time, burying your face in your hands as small snippets of last night flickered through your mind.

"oh sí, buenos días princesa!" jenni now lay awake beside you, arm retracting from your waist as she stretched with a grunt and flashed you an infuriatingly smug smirk. "do not call me that. get out!" you huffed, in denial that this was even happening right now.

"get out of my room?" jenni chuckled, rolling onto her side and pushing herself up a little, looking down at you as the smirk never left her lips and you continued to hide your face in your hands.

"this never happened. i was drunk, i didn't know what i was doing and you should have stopped it!" you sat up suddenly and shoved at your ex who scoffed as you bent over the edge of the bed, rummaging around the pile of clothes on the floor and pulling out a shirt quickly tugging it on and covering your naked top half.

"me? i tried! but you jumped me like a saltamontes, started grinding on me and dry humping my leg over and over like-" her words fell short as you filled with both rage and embarrassment lunged at her, hands raining down slaps on any inch of her you could connect with, jenni making a strange noise and shielding herself with her arms against the attack.

"vale! vale! this never happened." jenni finally caught your hands in hers as you scowled and pulled them free, slipping out of bed grateful you still had underwear on, clicking your tongue disapprovingly at your ex whose eyes roamed your bare legs.

"it never happened and it won't happen again." you warned, grabbing a pair of jeans which you thought were yours and wriggling yourself into them as jenni rolled her eyes.

"how would it never happen again if it did not happen once?" sitting up properly still half naked the older girl clearly had no shame as she ran a hand through her raven black hair, pushing it to one side of her head.

jenni stretching properly her breasts sat to attention and she caught your eyes flickering toward them as the smug smirk returned to her lips and heat crept up your neck as your gaze wrenched away.

but as you went to leave you heard her clear her throat, slowly turning back around and raising an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest.

"you have something of mine." jenni grinned holding up the other shirt which had been on the floor, turning it to show your number as you glanced down at the one you had on and sighed seeing it was indeed hers.

gesturing for her to toss your shirt to you she shook her head, still grinning at you only boiling your blood. "you first." she gestured for you to return her own top, knowing full well you had nothing else on underneath as your jaw clenched.

with a huff you stripped it off and hauled it at her with all the strength you could muster, the material hitting her in the face as you stormed over and snatched yours from her hand, quickly pulling it on and making a beeline for her door as jenni peeled her top from her face.

"hey chica!" you paused with another deep seeded sigh, hand on the door handle as you again turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"your ass still looks perfecta in those jeans." your ex grinned as you withheld the urge to launch at her again, simply flinging her door open and yanking it closed with an angry slam.

jenni only chuckled and tossed her own shirt back to the floor, getting comfortable in bed intending to sleep for another few hours until you all needed to leave for the airport later in the day.

for the entire plane ride back and the rest of the post win celebrations now home in spain you steered well clear of your ex, using your hangover as an excuse which seemed to fly with the team who were too busy with their own post win endorphins to pay your odd behavior any attention.

it seemed despite that slip up jenni had agreed that in fact that night never happened, as the months passed and you didn't hear a word from her, not telling a single soul about where you'd woken up that morning.

you didn't see your ex again until a couple of months later toward the back end of october, both of you in london for the week with media commitments for adidas and the ballon d'or ceremony.

you knew from the schedule you'd been emailed that you'd not be able to avoid her, and with nearly all of your friends gushing about how great it was you and jenni were so mature and able to be so friendly despite everything, you knew you had to save face.

so you touched down in london with the lingering hope that maybe you could rectify the mistake made back in august in australia and try to get back on track as friends with the older girl.

the first time you saw her had been at a shoot with adidas for their newest boots, you and jenni of course booked in for the same morning session as the english girls also sponsored clenched the later slot with media of their own to attend to.

it seemed that jenni could in fact be mature when she wanted to as there was no jokes made about either your ass or that night you spent together, the striker truly nothing but friendly and professional.

what you failed to notice however was the way her eyes roamed over you as it was your turn to be photographed, clad only in bike shorts and a sports bra as jenni keenly noticed the new tattoo littering your back, knowing your body so well you could have had a new freckle and she would have picked up on it.

you tensed as the shoot was called for the day and a cold finger absentmindedly traced the dragon which wound down your spine. "i like this." jenni hummed, touch gone as soon as it had arrived as you pulled on a shirt and turned to face her.

"gracias." you smiled politely, called away by your agent before she could say another word, jenni's own attention also needed elsewhere. and for the next couple of days you avoided one another, none the wiser that in fact you were staying in the same hotel as your busy schedules kept you away for most of your time in london.

both of you having taken a few group photos together and exchanging pleasantries the night before at the ballon d'or ceremony, surrounded by other friends and teammates it was easy enough to avoid one another even if that hadn't been intentional.

it came as a surprise as jenni entered the bar of the hotel she was staying at, having waved off her management agency after the last meeting of the trip with now the final night in london to herself, and she spotted you already sat inside at a table by yourself where you'd also just wrapped up your final meeting of the trip.

"hola!" you looked up from your phone and sighed at the toothy grin which greeted you, jenni sitting herself right down opposite you before you could even say another word. "oh claro, do sit down." you chuckled with a roll of your eyes.

"gracias, have you eaten?"

the two of you again seemed to be mature enough not to bring anything up as you ate and drank, jenni of course making jokes about other things to pull any laughter from you she could.

the sound was addictive to her like a drug and you'd always teased her for being quite the jester, egging on she just needed to get a red nose tattooed next to which she'd just rolled her eyes at in amusement.

"i should go, early flight." you excused yourself politely once your plates were cleared, jenni signalling for the check as she caught the waiters eye.

"mine too, but this was nice." jenni smiled sincerely which you returned, a comfortable silence settling before the check was placed down and your ex grabbed it before you could, slipping her card in and handing it back.

"jenni!" you protested with wide eyes, a tattooed hand waving off your protests as her card was returned and you both stood to your feet, your arguments falling on deaf ears as you walked together to the elevator.

"you are so infuriating sometimes hermoso, i could have paid!" you rolled your eyes as the doors closed. "sí you could have, but if you wanted to then you should have been faster." jenni smirked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall of the elevator.

as she did your eyes couldn't help but roam her body, the girl clad only in suit pants and a matching vest top leaving her tattooed muscular arms out on full display as something stirred within you and you cleared your throat looking away.

meanwhile jenni's own eyes wandered down to your exposed cleavage of the tight corset top you had on, jaw clenching as you inhaled and exhaled deeply sending your chest bobbing up and down which her gaze followed.

without either of you saying a single thing the energy in the elevator suddenly shifted, the floors seeming to slow as they passed one by one, both of your rooms on the upper levels as jenni's bright green eyes met yours.

though you'd only had a few wines at dinner you could feel the alcohol buzzing at the tips of your fingers and before either one of you could blink your lips smashed against one another.

the kiss was messy and clumsy as jenni's hands gripped your hips pressing you against the wall, yours cupping her jaw and grabbing the back of her neck deepening the kiss further.

tongues clashed against teeth and you withheld the urge to moan at the faint taste of red wine and spearmint gum in the older girls mouth, her tongue shoved down your throat as your breath hitched a little.

but just as quickly as you'd latched onto one another you pushed apart, chests heaving as the doors opened and jenni placed her foot across it to stop it closing right away.

"ven aquí." she rasped and pointed to the floor in front of her as you stepped forward and her hands fell either side of your face, her thumb carefully wiping away your now smudged lipstick as your heart rate accelerated again at the oddly tender gesture.

as the taller girl leaned down you puckered your lips assuming she'd kiss you again, only hers curled into their usual smug smirk as they ghosted your own.

"7012." was all she said, her touch disappearing as she stepped out of the elevator and turned, walking away from you without a single look back as you frowned and the doors closed.

you were stunned to silence as the elevator continued upward to your own floor, your skin burning where her hands had been just mere seconds ago.

the ghost of jenni's touch lingering against your body you loathed the way you craved for it to come back, and it was almost as if you blacked out as within what felt like seconds you were outside her door and knocking furiously on it.

"hola." she pulled it open and sang out with a cocky smile, leaning in the doorway as you huffed and forced your eyes not to drop down to where she'd unbuttoned her vest top, conveniently not wearing a bra.

"i don't want to get back together." you started firmly, jenni's smile never dropping from her face as she hummed. "neither do i." she shrugged, hands reaching out to settle on your waist.

slender fingers traced the slivers of skin which protruded from the slits down either side of the top you had on meaning you shivered a little causing her smirk to widen.

"so are you coming inside or would you like me to fuck you in the hallway?" the casual tone in which she said the words had your eyes widening as you looked around and slapped a hand over her mouth pushing her inside.

"nobody is around! relajarse." jenni laughed pulling your hand away as the door closed behind you. "this-" you gestured between the two of you. "-means nothing, sí?" you warned as sternly as you could manage with the predatory way she grinned down at you.

"i have missed the way you think you can boss me around." jenni smirked, advancing slowly toward you with a shake of her head as you huffed.

"we both know who really called the shots when we were together jennifer." you bit back, undeterred as her body met yours and walked you backward until your back hit the door, muscular arms caging you in as her large tattooed hands splayed against the wood either side of your head.

"maybe. but inside the bedroom that was not you, was it?" jenni tutted condescendingly, leaning down as her breath fanned your face. "oh and look where we are cariño? a bedroom." her cocky chuckled vibrated against your neck.

"so are you going to do something then?" you challenged as her head pulled back and she quirked an eyebrow, accepting the bait dangled as her hands grabbed your thighs and easily hoisted you up into her arms, your legs wrapping around her hips as you pressed your lips hungrily against hers.

with her hands occupied yours gripped the back of her neck, dominating the kiss for once and smiling against her lips as you sucked on her tongue and she moaned quietly only spurring you on further.

which is why when your back met the mattress you were quick to push her off of you, straddling her instead and connecting your lips again, only breaking apart as jenni tapped your hips and you pulled your top off as she did the same, both items tossed to the floor.

"hola mis chicas." jenni grinned at your decision to also not wear a bra as her veiny hands squeezed teasingly at your breasts and you groaned. "don't do that! mi dios you are like a horny teenage boy talking to them and that is not a turn on." you warned with a roll of your eyes.

"so bossy." jenni teased as her hands kneaded at them, lips millimeters from yours as suddenly her cold fingers sharply pinched your nipples causing a moan to fly out of your mouth and your head to flick backwards.

"i know how to deal with that though, don't i amor?" jenni cooed as her fingers teasingly tugged at your nipples and you could only nod at the mix of both pleasure and pain as her lips softly kissed at the column of your throat.

"what would everyone else say if they saw you right now hm?" jenni questioned as your hips began to rock against hers subconsciously and her large hands switched between both squeezing and pinching at your chest as her teeth tugged playfully on the lobe of your ear.

"jen no marks!" you warned with a gasp as she nipped at your neck, but her tongue was already licking over the fast forming bruise to soothe it by the time the words left your mouth.

"told you this ass looked perfecta mm? even better in these tight pants tonight cari." you moaned again as her hands trailed downwards to cup your ass instead, squeezing suddenly before you surged forward and captured her lips in a messy kiss.

"less talking more touching." you mumbled out as your hands rubbed across the strong muscles of her back. if you wanted to you could have traced each and every tattoo there from memory, the way your nails dragged against jenni's skin with a slight sting encouraged the girl under you to continue what she was doing.

you fought her to take over the kiss though with a sudden and sharp smack to your left ass cheek a small gasp was all it took for her to win dominance, other hand grabbing your jaw to hold your head still.

your bottom lip trapped between her teeth she tugged on it and gave you that trademark smug smirk, sucking it sharply back into her mouth as you exhaled and jerked on her lap, needing more.

"such a big mouth and bossy attitude but when it comes down to it bebita it is only good for one thing, sí?" jenni mocked, the air stolen from your lungs as suddenly you were beneath her again, shifting uncomfortably as you felt wetness gathering in your underwear though still trapped in the pants you'd worn to dinner.

your pupils dilated even further as her hair which was for once out fell down to frame her face, bright white teeth baring down at you as her strong tattooed hand came to wrap around your neck, squeezing gently to test the waters rewarding her with a small moan which had her ego inflating to the roof.

"but i will put your mouth to work a little later. now i think you need me to take care of you amor, tan impaciente y tan necesitado."

jenni wasn't surprised to wake up to an empty bed the next morning as you'd left for the airport already, every single trace of you gone from her room bar the few marks you'd left on her body and the slight ache between her legs which caused her to smile lazily at the memories of last night.

it was safe to say after that night the two of you fell into an understanding of sorts.

meaning that night was not a one time occurrence, both assuring one another each time that it meant nothing, jenni's eyes rolling as you reminded her over and over you had no intentions of getting back together despite her never asking you to.

you'd managed to keep everything between only the two of you, as far as you knew anyway as you'd not breathed a word to anyone of the late night encounters. sleeping together an additional four times as the months passed until you were both once again called up to spain for national duty and the nations league games.

but knowing there was dozens of your close friends around at all times, none of which were stupid, you had to be cautious not to alert them to anything. so the two of you remaining friendly you'd again and again brushed off jenni's attempts to get you into bed with her during camp.

though you couldn't resist her completely after delivering a crushing 7-1 victory over switzerland, your needs surpassing perhaps your logic as you caught jenni's eye in the change rooms after the match when the celebrations started.

neither of you needed to say a word to know what was going to inevitably follow later that night, but that didn't mean you didn't reap some joy in making her work for it.

all throughout the evening your ex had tried to again catch your eye to hint she'd like to head upstairs as the team celebrated in one of the conference rooms of the hotel.

family and friends welcomed as well you'd found yourself pulled into conversation with your best friends younger sister, alba chattering your ear off and introducing you to a few of her friends which had come to watch.

one of them in particular seemed to take a liking to you, and jenni found her patience wearing thin as with alexia distracted with the presence of her girlfriend nobody stepped in to pull your attention away from alba's incredibly handsy friend.

but knowing she had no claim over you or your focus anymore jenni did her best to distract herself, dancing until her feet felt they might drop off as misa tried time and time again to shove shots down her throat.

but jenni still hopeful of the night ending the way she wanted it to did her best to remain mostly sober, managing to palm off drink after drink to whomever of her teammates was closest at the time.

but as the night started to slowly wind down jenni didnt miss the way various other couples all disappeared together one by one and her yearning for you grew, her patience finally wearing thin.

watching you run a hand through your hair and tilt your head to the side with a loud laugh at something that was likely not very funny, jenni's blood ran cold knowing all too well that was how you flirted.

it was within seconds jenni had a scary realisation as emotions she'd kept bottled up all rose to the surface and she felt lightheaded.

jenni wasn't over you, not even close.

with that in mind the older girl knew the best and smartest move would now be to call it a night, take herself up to her room and recognize that these new feelings heavily complicated whatever arrangement had fallen between you both.

but no, that was far too logical and still with a yearning to follow through on what she'd planned, she made her move.

"hola." you looked up in surprise hearing jenni's voice as she stood behind you, alba's friend you'd been talking to giving her a curious look as jenni's hand squeezed your shoulder.

"you are?" the girl questioned jenni as you shook your head with a small smile at the way her hand stayed on your shoulder. "jenni, her girlfriend." but it was wiped away at that as your head whipped around to glare at her.

"ex girlfriend." you clarified firmly as alba's friend chuckled and pushed to stand up. "sounds complicated. maybe i will see you around barcelona!" she tipped her drink to you before wandering off as you pushed away jenni's hand and stood.

"you cannot help yourself can you?" you accused with arms crossed over your chest. "who, me? she looked like she was making you uncomfortable! i was just being a good friend, really." jenni smiled charmingly, fear causing her stomach to clench as you placed down your drink and walked off without a word.

"well, are you coming or not jennifer?" you called out over your shoulder, anybody within earshot far too drunk to care as jenni near tripped over her own feet in her haste to follow you out of the conference room.

not unlike that night in london the moment you were alone in the elevator your lips connected, though albeit a little more cautiously well aware that if the doors did open anyone could walk in.

you sprang away from one another the moment they did, attempting to straighten yourselves out as she walked just behind you toward your room which was closer than hers.

even with nobody around to see you were nervous as you opened your door and let her in, eyes scanning the empty hallway with a nod before you closed the door, her hands and lips right back on you the moment you did.

"you enjoy this, don't you?" jenni pulled away to question, one hand gripping your neck as the other rubbed small circles into your hip. "making you work for something? very much so." you hadn't answered the question she'd really been asking, too horny to catch onto the hidden meaning as you flashed her a grin.

your smug smile only grew as jenni pushed your body against the wall with a thump, veiny tattooed hands firmly clasping either side of your face and tilting your head back so her tongue could explore every single inch of your mouth as her lips pressed hungrily against yours.

"why did we break up again?" the taller girl pulled away and rasped, both your chests heaving slightly before her lips attacked yours once more.

"you’re stubborn, controlling, argumentative and immature." you mumbled out in between kisses, your own hands slipping up her shirt and pressing against her abs.

"oh is that all?" jenni let you go with a chuckle, grabbing your hands where they were wandering and pinning them against the wall by your sides with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"no you also have jealousy issues, shit tattoos and a superiority complex." you smirked up at her as the older girl snickered and shook her head, letting go of your hands and instead grabbing at your thighs as you jumped on instinct.

"mm princesa now you are just hurting my ego." jenni pouted sarcastically, the two of you now at eyeline as she spun around and walked you both toward the bed, a small hiss leaving your lips as jenni nipped sharply at your neck, tanned skin trapped between her teeth.

"did I mention that’s also grossly inflated?" you breathed out as your back met the mattress and the striker hovered over you with a wolfish grin, jet black hair falling around the two of you like a curtain.

"maybe once or twice." "bien, someone has to keep it in check."

"again with that big mouth cari." jenni tutted, eyes roaming your face with a smirk as your own lips curled upward and you shrugged. "you've always loved it, its not nice to lie." you exhaled, eyes fluttering closed as her hands slipped up your shirt.

"sí, but i much more enjoy the pretty little sounds i can pull from it." jenni teased as you gasped, her hand suddenly slipping down into your shorts and gently caressing you where you needed her though over your underwear.

but right as it seemed your needs would be met her hand retracted and she sat up, shuffling back a little to sit against the headboard of your bed.

"fuera de." her fingers tugged at the bottom of your shirt, making no move to undress herself as you raised an eyebrow but moved to stand, pulling off both your shirt and your bra as your ex watched on through hooded eyes.

"todo." jenni clicked her tongue and nodded to your shorts as you tried to join her on the bed again, rolling your eyes but pulling them down to your ankles, a little slower than really needed as you smirked at the way her eyes never left your now bare chest.

as much as jenni always appreciated your ass, she would always be a boob girl at heart and you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage to get what you wanted.

"you now." you spoke up as jenni smiled and looked like she wanted to say something but stood none the less, ridding herself of her shirt but keeping on both her shorts and sports bra.

"todo." you mocked her earlier word, pointer finger snapping teasingly at the waistband of her shorts with a grin as she towered over you her head shook and she let out a chuckle.

"no." was all she spoke before suddenly you were pinned beneath her on the bed, hands either side of your head and hips pressed to the mattress under her own.

"remember guapa, you like to think you are in charge but that is never the case. is it?" jenni cooed, face hovering just above yours with a teasing grin, letting go of your hands in favour of playing with your chest instead as your eyes closed.

but jenni knowing your own body perhaps better than you did with a sharp tweak of your nipple in her left hand and her mouth sucking at the right a loud moan left your lips as your hands now free tangled in her hair.

your breath caught in your throat as without warning her other hand pulled down your underwear, pushing herself up and off of you for a moment to allow her to kick the black lace away from your ankles in one simple maneuver before she settled herself back on top of you.

"jen por favor!" you breathed out, now uncomfortably wet and needing her to do something about it. "mm what? use that big mouth to tell me what you want and maybe you will get it querida." jenni teased, your mouth opening and closing as her hand trailed slowly down your bare stomach.

"need you." you managed out as her other hand found its home wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly as you moaned and the sound was music to her ears, rewarded with a kiss that had your head spinning for it.

"need me..." jenni cooed in your ear as she pulled away, teasingly pushing one finger inside you as your hips bucked but she pushed them back down into the mattress with her own, squeezing your neck again when you didn't answer.

"normally so much to say hermosa, no problem running your mouth to your little friend tonight no?" jenni teased, slowly pumping the single digit in and out only causing your need for her to grow as you moaned again.

"do you wish it was her here instead of me? her fingers inside you and her tongue in your mouth? zorrita." jenni hissed in your ear as another finger joined the first and her pace sped up slightly.

though not anywhere near close to what you needed from her you tried to grind upward, the hand which had been wrapped around your neck moving to press against your bare stomach forcing your body to sink deeper into the soft mattress beneath you.

growing impatient of her teasing and with cheeks flushed red your hand flew to tangle in her hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging on it with a huff.

"cállate y fóllame!" you ordered, though it came out much less stern than you'd hoped as your head pushed back into the mattress when her fingers pumped faster.

"mi niña buena. there's that little mouth!" jenni grinned as a string of curses left your lips and you squirmed beneath her, the coil in your stomach starting to tighten as her skilled slender fingers pistoned rapidly in and out of you.

"i'm close! jenni i'm gonna come." you manged to gasp out, nails scratching down her back as you neared the edge. "no, hold it." your eyes flew back open at her words, staring up at her in disbelief as she smirked down at you.

"i can't." "you can." "no jenni por fav-"

"be a good girl and wait." jenni growled as she felt your walls clench around her fingers, feet twitching as you let out a pornographic moan.

"who makes you feel like this? who knows your body best preciosa?" jenni questioned, grinning as her fingers slowed and you whined needily. "answer me." you hissed as her teeth clamped down on your nipple and your hips bucked.

"you, fuck you jenni!" you managed to spit out, wolfish grin widening as she kissed between your breasts and sped her fingers up again.

"so close, jen please!" you begged, unable to hold on much longer as her fingers pumped in and out and in out, her spare hand kneading your chest and tweaking lazily at your overly sensitive nipples as you slipped and tripped not to fall over the edge without her say so.

"sí, such a good girl. come for me amor!" with her permission it barely took another two seconds before your body spasmed under hers and jenni gently coaxed you through your orgasm, slowing down the thrusts of her fingers.

but you barely had time to recover before suddenly her tongue was replacing them and your hands tangled in her hair with a moan. "jesus!" you hissed out as she pinched your clit and her tongue skillfully darted in and out of you, and within what felt like seconds you were on the brink of coming again.

this time jenni made no move to stop you as she shamelessly ate you out, her mouth never leaving you and you were sure she would coax a third orgasm from you but incredibly oversensitive you pulled at her hair and she retracted.

"vale?" jenni questioned as she moved to lay beside you instead, her voice now softer and with an air of slight concern as you nodded, just needing a moment to collect yourself as you caught your breath.

once you had it was no surprise to your ex girlfriend when now you moved on top of her, stamina restored as a smile curled into your lips and her hands palmed at your ass with a grin.

"my turn."

“so cariño since I am the only woman who makes you feel so good. can I take you out for dinner tonight?” jenni grinned with a victoriously cocky glint in her eyes at your words from last night as you only smiled and stepped forward so you were chest to chest with the taller girl.

“oh jennifer when will you learn that the things i say when you are holding my orgasm hostage-“ you leaned up even closer, warm breath fanning her lips which never strayed from the widespread grin as she leant in to close the gap.

“-don’t count.” and with one small push to her chest you sent her stumbling backwards out the door which promptly closed in her face.

“so is that a maybe to dinner then?” the older girl called out hopefully, receiving only silence in reply as she huffed and lightly kicked at your door.

glancing to her right jenni deflated further seeing misa, laia and alexia of course only a few feet away all headed downstairs for breakfast.

“do not say it.” the tattooed striker grumbled as misa sent her a knowing smirk and laia looked on in a mixture of amusement and surprise, both girls hurrying to catch up with their friend as alexia hung by your door to yell at hers.

when the rapid knocks sounded you rolled your eyes assuming it was yet another dinner invitation, jenni having spent the morning trying in a variety of different ways to con you into a 'friendly meal'.

"venga jenni i told you that-" you started as you pilled it open, the words dying in your mouth at the blazing hazel eyes which bore back at you.

"oh. hi ale!" you chirped with a charming smile, your best friend humming clearly unimpressed and forcing her way inside, shouldering past you as you sighed and closed the door after her.

"dios mio it smells like sex in here." the blonde scoffed bluntly as you cringed and alexia started to sit on the corner of your bed before noticing the messed up linen and quickly thinking better of it.

though as the older girl went to sit on the arm chair in the corner you subtly shook your head. "aquí?" alexia asked in disbelief as you grimaced lightly, shaking your head again as she went to lean on the desk, recoiling away with a face of disgust.

"everywhere? increíble!" she gasped with wide eyes as you winced, you and jenni having made much use of the variety of different surfaces in the room last night alongside your shared high stamina.

with a guilty smile you gestured to the bathroom as alexia rolled her eyes but none the less you followed her in there, your best friend sitting on the edge of the bath as you pulled yourself up to sit on the vanity counter.

"explain, now." alexia ordered sternly as you sighed, mind racing to try and find a way out of this. "we....caught up?" you tried with a hopeful smile, face falling as alexia's own remained unwavering, lips pursed into a thin line.

"your ex girlfriend just stumbled out of your room before breakfast and it smells in there like a fifteen year old boy who has just discovered porn!" alexia observed as you winced, opening your mouth to explain but the older girl held up a finger and grabbed out her phone.

"ale what are you-" "hola?" a voice mumbled tiredly as alexia clicked speaker phone, the girl on the the end of the line clearly half asleep as you rolled your eyes.

"really? why do we have to involve her!" you groaned as alexia quickly caught your other best friend up on what she'd walked into. "puta furtiva!" mapi gasped now much more awake at the new information.

"you are getting back together with jenni?" mapi asked as alexia raised an eyebrow clearly also wanting to know the answer. "no we are not getting back together!" you answered with a firm shake of your head.

"but you are sleeping with her again?" mapi questioned as again alexia raised an eyebrow making your eyes roll. "it was one time." you lied dismissively as both your best friends somehow hummed in sync making you give alexia a strange look as if she had grown a second head.

"okay it was a few times. its no big deal!" you scoffed dismissively as mapi gasped again and alexia's eyes narrowed. "when did it start?" the girl questioned as mapi echoed the question curiously.

"the world cup." you mumbled, looking down to the floor and whining as alexia suddenly smacked your thigh and fixed you with a glare. "hit her again for me!" mapi piped up on the phone as you kicked the older girl away as alexia leaned over to do just that.

"in my defense i do not remember that time! i was very drunk as we all were that night. i woke up in jenni's bed the next morning and everything else is still a blur." you sighed honestly, rubbing your face tiredly.

"so if you do not want to get back with her then why are you sleeping with her amiga?" alexia asked accusingly.

"well ale. normal human beings have these feelings called needs, and when you have needs it is sometimes more pleasurable to satisfy them with another human being and not by yourself. but i would not expect a robot like you to understand that!" you pouted sarcastically and jerked your knees up to your chest as your best friend scowled and tried to hit you again as the other one cackled on the other end of the phone line.

"adios maría." alexia huffed in annoyance at the assumed betrayal. "hey wait wait no don't-" but the defender was cut off as alexia clicked end call and slid her phone back into her pocket.

"are you mad at me?" you sighed as the blonde stood up from the bath. "no, a little disappointed you did not tell me but you're an adult who can sleep with whoever she likes." alexia shook her head as she stood to her feet.

"but?" you encouraged sensing she wasn't quite finished, your best friends hands falling either side of your face. "but please be careful, i do not want to see you hurt again, sí?" her eyes now shone with concern as you nodded.

"good. i cannot handle the lack of sleep it would take to be on the phone with you all night while you cry and cry and cry over her again." alexia kissed your forehead and let you go.

"hey!" the affectionate gesture distracted you for a moment before her words sunk in and offence followed, a smile curling into her lips as you pulled yourself off the counter and followed her back into your room.

"now por favor clean this up and spray some perfume or something, even the poor hotel staff do not deserve to deal with this." alexia's nose crinkled in disgust as your eyes rolled and you shoved her.

"honestly putellas you are so dramatic."

right up until that point you were sure that you didn't want to get back with your ex girlfriend, quite content with the current arrangement you had going on.

but a small freak accident the next day at lunch following training put a lot of things into perspective.

you were so exhausted after a brutal gym session that you hadn't paid enough attention to the food put on your tray, following after alexia to a table and sitting down wedged between her and irene.

near starving you hastily shoveled food into your mouth, ignoring your friends attempts to speak with you much to their amusement as laia, misa and jenni took the other vacant seats at the table.

you'd barely swallowed two mouthfuls of food before something felt funny, and you tried to swallow again but started to panic when you couldn't, your fork dropping to the table with a clatter as you began to wheeze.

"hey hey hey, breathe!" alexia tried to help but you shook your head, your throat starting to swell up as panic set in and you began to make a strange honking noise.

"there's peanuts in this, she has eaten peanuts." jenni was the first to realise right away what was going on, eyes wide in fear as they met alexia's who could only open and close her mouth.

"mierda." jenni hissed, on her feet and sprinting off in seconds as both staff and your team mates all hovered by unsure how to help you as the medical officers arrived and you clawed at your throat, moved to sit on the ground as your face began to go blue.

"move!" jenni ordered sternly, elbowing her way in and dropping to her knees, a bright orange epipen in her hand as she rolled up the hem of your shorts and stabbed it into your thigh, clicking the top as the epinephrine entered your system and started to fight the allergic reaction.

"estarás bien amor, estarás bien." jenni promised softly, pushing your hair out of your face as your hands grabbed hers and squeezed, the swelling starting to ease as someone pushed a bottle of cold water into your hand, jenni snatching it and pressing it against your throat.

the staff now having shooed most of your team mates away as to not crowd you only jenni and alexia remained by your side, your best friend gently rubbing your back as her own body trembled with fear and jenni softly caressed your cheek as your breathing began to even out again.

"okay chicas, some space please." one of the medical staff asked gently as alexia backed up and jenni tried to but you grabbed her hand and shook your head.

"vale, i am right here." the girl promised, helping you up to your feet as your body sagged into hers and both her and the medical staff member guided you out of the cafateria and toward the makeshift medical office, where jenni had ran off to in order to grab the epipen.

helped up and onto a padded med bench you sat back and sipped slowly at some water, your blood pressure tested and a quick check of the back of your throat showing the epinephrine was working as the swelling was near gone.

you were aware of jenni in the room still, talking quietly with one of the medical staff as your eyes remained closed and you sucked on an ice cube, working on evening out your breathing.

"gracias." you managed to wheeze out with a small smile as the staff member stepped out of the room, jenni pulling herself up to sit beside you on the padded bench.

"how did you know?" you croaked out after a few minutes of silence passed between you, turning to look up at her as she smiled. "because i know you. and had i been near you when you were getting food i'd have known not to let you get the noodles because they have traces of peanuts, estúpido!" she teased, gently bumping her shoulder into yours.

"but how did you-" "i still remember. all the foods you can and cannot have, even with just traces." jenni admitted, a slight blush coating her cheeks at the admission as she avoided your eyes.

at that small confession a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you and you sat there in silence trying to process them, jenni not pushing you to speak but staying by your side as she'd promised earlier, though if you asked her to she would leave.

it was then that you realised with her small admission of even just such a simple thing as remembering your allergies, the obvious care from the older girl had forced you to no longer ignore what had been glaringly gnawing at you for months now, you weren't over jenni, not even close.

"jenni." you spoke up as she hummed, turning to look down at you as now you avoided her eyes. "i do not think i can do this anymore. the sleeping together, the sneaking around, i do not think it is a good idea." you forced out, expecting her face to fall but missing the way she paused.

"why?" she asked softly, trying not to get her hopes up as you sighed. "its...too complicated." your answer somehow filled her with even more hope, a hand settling cautiously on your knee but when you made no move to push her away she relaxed a little.

"hey, look at me." you did as she asked, her eyes searching yours for a moment before speaking again. "i still love you cariño, more than i have been willing to admit to myself." jenni confessed, the words terrifying her but knowing no matter the outcome she needed to get them off her chest.

"i know i did not fight for you when we broke up, and i think that will always be my biggest regret." jenni continued, spurred on as your hand gently settled on top of hers which still sat at your knee, a small nod encouraging her further.

"but i think-no i know. i know now that i needed this time to realise that you are what matters, not how other people look at you in a club or what you wear when you go dancing or who is around you when i am not there. i lost sight of what mattered when i let other people take priority in our relationship over you." jenni exhaled shakily, your thumb gently rubbing over her knuckles, frown on your face though not one of judgement.

"i know we live on opposite sides of the world, and there is still a lot of work to mend what was broken but, and perdóname for being so forward, but if i do not say this now then i will not say it. is there a chance for us to...well, be us again?" jenni laid everything down in front of you, not pushing anymore than that as another silence fell between you both.

"i think you are right, there is still a lot of work to be done and it will take a lot of time to get back even close to how we used to be. i do not want to be hurt again and to build that trust back will take time as well." you started softly, jenni nodding along hanging off your every word.

"but i think, i think maybe we could start to get back to the basics. i love you too jenni, actually i do not think i ever really stopped."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

and fin! there shall be no part two to this, you can use your imaginations to dream up if they did/didn't get back together. meanwhile i will continue to be an overthinking nervous wreck about taking the jump of posting smut for the first time. will i wake up tomorrow and delete this? maybe, who knows! only time shall tell

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #woso blurbs #espwnt

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cowyolks · 1 year

Text

YOUR GRACE,

PART ONE OF THE KING AU (Part Two Here)

Pairing: King! König x Female Reader

Prompt: As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told.

Words: 3k

Warnings: The dirtiest thing I’ve ever wrote— voyeurism, public sex, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, cum eating, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex, biting.

A/n: König literally means king in German, so we shall play this to our advantage. I’ll be in the corner where I belong if you need me.

MINORS DNI

It was simply disgusting outside. Mud had caked upon your boots, and the blood of your enemies you viciously killed still painted your armor. You looked every bit as wild on the battlefront as you did after victory.

Your breath frosted in the air, a shiver overtaking. You looked forward to taking a warm bath heated by the fire you had already started back in your tent.

That was before you were interrupted by one of the King’s servants, his face reddened upon glancing at your bare breasts, your armor long stripped. Luckily you hadn’t slid out of your trousers, but it was simple to say you were irritated.

You hastily pulled your furs back over your upper half, grumbling at the feeling of clothing upon your back and not hot water.

You shouldn’t have let frustration get the best of you, yet as you marched towards the other side of camp, everything managed to piss you off. Screaming soldiers fighting for rations, horses nickering too loudly, and men that couldn’t help but stare.

“You got a fucking staring problem?” You snarled at a particularly small soldier, who gulped in alarm when he caught the vicious glare you sent him.

A little chuckle broke out from behind you, and your heart leapt out of your throat when you realized it was your King.

His massive form was always a sight to see, except this time he looked even more terrifying. He seemed taller in his armor of glowing silver. Unlike most Kings, he fought amongst his men, so instead of untouched metal, his breastplate was splattered in red and mud. Even his signature hood he wore in battle was smeared with drying blood.

His arm was flexed upwards, holding up the cloth door of the council’s tent. Several men were already inside, all councilors of the senate, none that fought in the battle. You curled your lip.

“Play nice, Maus…” he purred, ushering you inside. You had to admit that the warmth of a fire felt nice against your face, the small shiver of your back disappearing.

“Right…” Your king sat upon his makeshift throne of forged steel, large enough to fit his massive form and have plenty of room to spread his legs wide before him. You sat next to him, and if it wasn’t for the bluntly obvious General’s cloak you wore, it could almost be assumed you were in a Queen’s throne. You sat close together, as you always did in briefings.

It wasn’t hard to guess the affairs the King had with you. Often times the guards would catch you sneaking out of his quarters, your sloppy gait and wrinkled dress being enough evidence to guess the steaming affair. He found joy in the hunt, something he made very clear when his face was pressed to your weeping cunt as his hand muffled your screams of pleasure.

“Are you listening, Girl?” A senator broke you away from your inner turmoil, your sour mood coming back in full force.

“I apologize, sir, but I think you meant General. Not Girl.” Your bite didn’t go unnoticed by the other senators, they shifted uncomfortably in their seats. König let out a little sigh of amusement.

“At ease… we are just starting. She has not missed anything important.” König diffused the situation, and you fell back into your chair with a huff. You’d rather be anywhere than speaking politics with these slimy pricks. You were a warrior, not a peacemaker.

“What is not important is a woman among our ranks. Let alone one that simply serves purpose to warm your bed.” The senator seethed, and you merely smirked at his comment. König would not tolerate this insolence, it would be fun to watch this play out.

Panicked whispers broke out amongst the senators as König stood. His height was scary in its own, but as he towered in a silent anger, he looked even more menacing. His steps were calculated, stalking towards the conquered sand table right in front of the unruly senator.

“You’re so tense.” König joked as his palms fell upon the little man’s shoulders, like claps of dark thunder. Your eyes twinkled as he clamped down.

“I apologize, sire.” The senator squeaked, although the bitter laugh that escaped the giant’s throat made him even more pale. “I shouldn’t be the one you apologize to, but I doubt whatever you come up with would be sincere.”

“I can apologize to the General…” he squirmed, the situation already making you revel in joy, but when your King bent his knee you grew more satisfied, your mouth watering.

“I won’t hurt you… tell me something, senator?” König’s voice cut across the tent, eerie silence replacing his growl.

“Anything.”

“Have you ever felt a pretty woman’s mouth against your cock?”

It was silent, you felt your own heart rate pick up at the question. The silence was enough of an answer, König laughed, deep and threatening. He crouched lower, his eyes level with the senator, his hood still terribly covered in blood. He reached down, pulling a singular dagger from his boot, before placing it against the base of the quivering man’s throat.

“I’m pretty big, she chokes on it most times, but occasionally…” König tilted the dagger down, against the hollow of the man’s throat. “I’ll open her up just right, and her pretty, tight, throat can take all of me to here.” He tapped the flesh, a wicked glint in his eyes as he stood straight again.

“Everyone out! Except you…” His blade stayed planted against the senator’s throat. His eyes happily watching as the council scrambled out of the tent.

“Don’t go far… I plan to have a meeting after I take care of this issue,” he yelled as they left. He sheathed his dagger, a soft pat was placed on the senator’s shoulders.

König stalked back to his throne, his eyes uncharacteristically soft as they met your own steeling ones.

“Come here, darling.” He purred again, you imagined the plunge in your gut was a lot different than the one the senator had felt. You rose from your chair, casting a quiet glance at the senator before stopping a few inches in front of the King.

You knelt respectfully, a gesture that made König’s eyes flash as he glanced down on you through his hood.

You could practically see his teasing smirk through the dirty canvas.

He reached out, his palm resting upon your cheek, then lower to the warm skin of your neck. His touch was like glowing embers, always the one to set you on fire.

“You see this? So very loyal to the King, something I wish for my councilmen as well.” His eyes burnt holes into the senator, a wicked swirling of pleasure beneath his commanding eyes. His palm rubbed smoothing circles against your skin, keeping you grounded and focused on his massive form. You hummed at his compliment, allowing a chuckle to escape the King’s throat.

“She likes to be praised and she treats me so well. Say something nice about her, senator.” König demanded from his throne, his legs still spilled wide as he pulled you gently between them, slotting your kneeling form against the tight muscles of his inner thighs.

“She fights well.” He squeaked like a timid mouse, König tutted, obviously unhappy with the response.

“No, no. About her appearance, like how sweet her cunt tastes, or how pretty she looks kneeling.” His words made you clench around nothing, but you didn’t dare move from your position, your eyes still locked and wavering at his hood.

“She has pretty eyes…” he mumbled, barely loud enough for König to hear. He laughed slightly, a gruff chirp that shook his wide chest.

“Such a pathetic compliment, it’s a wonder why you’ve never got your cock wet, hmm?”

The senator whined, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, but you didn’t pay much mind, your stare falling to your King’s open thighs, where his cock lay tight against his pants.

König chuckled again, the sound musical as he petted upon your hair. “Those pretty eyes are staring at my cock like she’ll go hungry. I feed her well, keep her satisfied and by my side.” His hand patted upon the crown of your head repeatedly—a waiting game.

“But you won’t get to look at her pretty eyes.” König reached to his face, pulling upon his battle-worn hood, he dropped it to the ground with a dull thud.

He was ethereal in a way, simply like a God you had bent your knee for. His messy hair a color of the sun when it set— a dull warm orange. His nose was long and crooked, likely from breaking the cartilage in battle. His face was angled and stern, as if he was a spring ready to snap. His pupils were blown, you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or lust.

He fumbled with his belt, pulling upon the leather material until it hung loosely upon his waist. Finally, he leant back against the chair, his eyes finding the senator’s in disgusting pleasure.

“You know what to do, Maus.”

It was all you needed as a sign to reach your nimble fingers beneath his waistband, pulling down upon his trousers until his half-hard cock displayed in front of your face. You felt no shame as you clutched upon his massive shaft, your fingers barely wrapping around the sheer girth of him.

“Don’t look away, senator… I’ll spoon out your eyes if you do.” He rumbled, just as you pumped him once.

König was definitely putting on a show, releasing a deep sigh that came from his stomach. You knew then that he wouldn’t go quietly, your King was going to be loud, and no one would dare stop him.

“She’s good with her fingers, but near euphoric with her tongue.” He glanced down to you, cradling your jaw before lowering you down to his weeping head, a soft bead of precum leaking from him.

“Come now, darling… you’re being shy.”

With a amused huff you parted your lips, running your tongue down the shaft of his cock, nearly smiling as König hissed. That was real, not just a loud and absurd noise of punishment for the senator.

His hips pushed against your mouth, impatiently rutting his cock deeper down your throat, barely giving you enough time to open wide enough that your teeth wouldn’t scrape against his warm skin.

He pressed against the back of your throat, despite his battle worn body, he’d always tasted of bittersweet cherry wine, maybe it was because he drank so much of it. Always a goblet in his hand when you’d be in his quarters, a book slotted in his other hand. He’d often enjoy a glass while you sat on his lap, doing his best to read you the passage as you warmed his cock.

He jerked up again at your dazed expression, the fleshy walls of your throat gagged around his throbbing head, not being able to take the stretch.

“Shhhh… you hear that senator? Hear her struggle on my cock?” His massive paw wrapped around your head, pulling you back slightly, letting you catch your breath.

“Say she’s beautiful. Say she’s the most gorgeous woman in the whole kingdom. I want you to look at her when I cum down her throat, so every time you stroke yourself with that pathetic hand, you’ll think of my cock…” he brought you down upon him again, except this time you were ready.

“Fuck…”

Your nose hit the soft edge of his pelvis, tears welling in your eyes as he stretched your jaw to an extreme he hasn’t ever reached before.

“She’s beautiful…” the senator quietly squirmed as König’s fiery stare glared back at him. “And she’s all mine, the only woman that warms my bed.” With a final thrust, and your ears ringing at the praise, you tightened just enough for him to spill his seed against the back of your throat.

Your King’s soft whine of pleasure the only thing that propelled you to swallow every last drop of him, despite how much it truly was.

“What a good girl, she swallowed all of me. Not like some common whore you’d have to pay for, hmm?” His fingertip traced under your lip, gathering up your sticky saliva and a drop of him you missed. He fed it to you in a satisfied stupor, obviously his orgasm had fatigued him. Yet, his eyes still swirled with lust, you knew this was far from over.

“Leave, senator. If I hear you even breathed a slight word about my General again, I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs.”

The senator sighed in relief, eyes lowered to the ground as he hastily bowed, leaving the tent in such an embarrassed state you hardly noticed as König hauled you to your feet before settling you against his knee, his eyes playful as he regarded you.

“I think my most prized subject deserves an award, no?”

You pretend to think about it, your mind airy from all of the praise you’ve just received. With a sure hand you reached out, connecting with his jaw. Auburn stubble had begun to sprout amongst his cheeks, showcasing the time spent fighting amongst camp instead of his warm keep.

“There will be others, a lot more distasteful than him.” You warned. König sighed, paws squeezing upon the soft furs bunched on your waist.

“Let them talk. Let them listen…”

His hand wrapped upon the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest until you were tight and straddled against his waist, the cold armrests of his throne digging into your legs.

He wasted no time in kissing your swollen lips, reveling in pleasure as he tasted himself upon your tongue.

He was hot and warm, a summer day in the contrast of the icy battle that had raged earlier. It made you yearn to be under his furs in his bed back home, tucked into his side like some precious jewel. Shivers erupted down your back when he nudged his nose against your chin, allowing him space to sink his teeth lightly in the flesh of your collarbone. You ground down against his bare cock, he grunted at the friction.

You gasped when his hands squeezed underneath the soft parts of your thighs. Effortlessly, your King pulled you up in his arms, never breaking away from your neck as he sucked against the flesh. Still, he knew exactly where he was going, because in a few steps he had you laying flat against the sand table, pieces of wooden carved castles and crests scattering across the surface.

“You looked so pretty sucking my cock, Maus. Never wanted to fuck you more, fill you until you cried,” you gasped, and in one fluid motion König had your trousers down and thrown on the dirty ground. Your bottom half exposed to the nipping cold.

“Never done anything like that with someone looking…” you mumbled, not that you felt self-conscious, but the fact that König would display to the world that you were his.

“Think I’m embarrassed of you?” He teased, before falling to the dirt just as you had previously done. You clenched, watching as the man you served would now serve you.

“Of course not.” You aired out, tilting your chin down to glance at his eyes, rounded in dark sultry glow.

“Good. Because they’re going to hear you, and they’ll know just how good I make you feel,” he growled, before snatching your hips, pulling them against his awaiting lips. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you release a humiliating moan from the warmth of him.

He set to work immediately, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, just as he sucked down hard upon your clit. You jerked, slamming your eyes shut while whining unapologetically when he crushed your pelvis back down against the cold table.

“Sit still, Maus…” he pulled away a moment, slick glistening to his lips as he licked them greedily. He hummed, “you taste divine, you want me to continue?”

“Yes, Your Grace…” you mumbled in a drunk euphoria, barely hearing his growl as heaved your legs upon his shoulders and dipped lower, licking and suckling upon you again. Enough that you were seeing stars, vision nearly black as he added a thick digit against your clenching walls.

It squelched against the tightening flesh, causing a deep moan to flex from your throat, and a hum of approval to fall from König’s lips, the vibration sending you over your edge. He added another finger, wallowing in pleasure as he stretched you.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, “that’s it darling, cum around my fingers, I want to taste it.” You tightened around him, seeing black as you felt yourself unravel, pure bliss falling from your lips as he lapped up everything you gave. He kissed the inside of your thighs, the touch like fire, burning and burning until you were nothing left but ashes.

He slipped his fingers away, the loss of contact making you whine pathetically. Oh, how easy it was to fall into the spell of him.

He laughed, a joyous sound, if it wasn’t for your quivering form. You needed more than just his fingers, and judging by the twinkle in his stormy eyes, he knew it too. He stood tall, his shadow falling over you like a blanket.

“What’s wrong, Maus?” He quipped, sharp canines glowing against the roaring fire in the distance. He knew exactly just how much this was getting to you. How his own fingers were shaking with primal desire, how he needed to plant into you and seek delicate shelter.

Your legs instinctively spread wider, allowing his hips to slot between them. With a slow hiss he stroked himself, your own eyes growing wide at the sheer girth of him, fully hard and wanting. He was always one to split you in two, a precious stretch just for him.

He taunted, gliding back and forth against your slick, up and down, again…again. Just as you were about to tearfully beg he breached your hole, a grunt leaving his lips before his head fell back in desperation.

“Fuck darling… so tight.” He pushed in slightly, half of him clamped and yielding to you. The burn was delicious, just as his hands were when they found purchase of your clothed breasts. He kneaded, just as he pulled out slightly again.

A sharp cry echoed the tent as he pushed back in— a wicked snap of his hips that made you moan. He rutted deep, one hand pressing into the table near your head, his eyes locked on your furrowed features.

“Eyes open, Maus.” He commanded, and you did as you were told, eager to please the King. Your teary eyes flooded with a jerky thrust, the tip of his head hitting your womb. It was pure instinct to wrap your legs around him, allowing him a deeper angle to ravage.

He was every bit a King. His size, his intelligence, his cock. It all dulled in comparison to any other man or woman. A true man of unwavering power.

“You hear her crying on my cock?” He yelled out into the tent, releasing a growl of his own as his cock began to twitch your gummy walls.

Whispers erupted from outside of the tent, some of the senators even commenting on how they did hear, just to please the King’s ego. It only made you moan louder, as his hips snapped even faster at their whispers.

Your hands found purchase around his cloak of woven velvet, roughly pulling at the material until you reached the warm skin of his shoulder blades, the high nearly reaching you as you rose upwards, your nails tearing into his flesh.

The only wound he’d received from his conquest.

“That’s it. Cum on your King’s cock,” he growled, losing himself just seconds after you began to clench, seeing stars in the most delightful way.

You were never one to disobey his orders.

He was never one to deny you pleasure.

With a cry, your walls closed around him, just as he pulled you tight against him, his thrusts sloppy as he rode you off your orgasm. Only seconds later did he pull you into a bruising kiss, your own mouth swallowing his moan as he spilled warm seed inside you, coating your walls in a way of pure unadulterated bliss.

He kissed you, long and slow, not daring to break your connection until he wiped your tears built from shared pleasure.

He was simple nirvana in the form of a man.

You silently whined when he pulled back, his little hiss of relief only making your eyes grow wider in admiration. He knelt again, his stare falling between your legs to your battered cunt, completely and utterly full of him.

He chuckled, reveling in ecstasy at your spent state, and all you could do was stare. With a curious finger, he pushed his seed back into your womb, a glint in his eyes as you moaned out to him at the breach.

“Love to see you full, darling. Maybe the seed will take, hmm?” His words jarred you, so crude yet delicious at the same time. Just as he was.

“They’d be bastards.” You couldn’t help but slur, eyes finding your ripped trousers in the mud.

König’s eyes twinkled as he did up his belt again, an amused look on his face as he tossed you his cloak. It would be enough to get you back to your warm bath. Forget the fuckin’ council.

The giant’s swollen lips quirked upwards, his steps sure as he reached against the table, pulling a long piece of parchment from a draw. With an outstretched hand, he gave it out to you.

You read it over, again and again. Eyes widening more each time you reread. In shock you stood, attempting to ignore the shake in your legs from excitement and from earlier pleasures.

A declaration.

“Marriages are sacred in Royalty. You know that. But being a King also makes you a conquerer, conquering means new land. Land means area to rule. I can make whoever I want royalty on said land,” He rumbled, his chest pressed to your back, just as he pushed back your hair, placing a searing kiss upon your neck.

“How would it feel to be a Queen? My Queen.”

Tags: @mykneeshurt @soapyghost @fante-di-denari

#fuck I don’t know how to end smut #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #König #konig #könig x reader #könig smut #konig x reader

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missblissy · 6 months

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Little Things! Astarion x Reader HCs

A/n: 😤😤 I’m just gonna say it, ya’ll don’t have enough casual domestic relationship headcanons in these tags. To much smut. Y’all need some water, come up for air or something good god I love y’all but drink some fucking water 😂 So have some HCs of Tav and Astarion in Act 1. GN! Tav with no class/race as always UwU Also thank you so much for all the likes and kind words on my last post! I plan on opening my requests soon so be sure to follow to stay updated on when that happens. 💖☺️ Enjoy!

Was it even possible for someone to be annoyed… and pleased at the same time? Could a contradiction even exist? Yes. It could. And it baffled Astarion. Sure you had a pretty face, a nice laugh, a way with words… A shimmer in your eyes… a crooked grin that barely broke a smirk… The faint and unmissable sound of your heart beat… A smell so signature he could pick it up in the subtle breeze.

Just with the shift of wind and now he was tossing and turning in his tent. Huffing and throwing his blanket over half his face. Thoughts racing with you now, all the way on the other side of camp and no where near him. Not even in his sight. And still you were in his mind.

How annoying. This was just a misguided, maybe even a malicious attempt at forging an alliance. So why did he feel so… bad? His red eyes couldn’t close so he just stared at the fabric wall of his tent. A blank but also bitter stare on his face.

Out of all the books he read, and he read a lot, none of them actually showed him what real was. What was real passion? Not the mask he wore. What was real conviction and adoration? All he knew was what he’s done for centuries. And this was nothing but uncharted and unfamiliar territory.

So why was it your delightful and diluted scent in the wind alone just enough to send him reeling? He couldn’t know, or didn’t dare to wonder.

These little things didn’t stop there. During the day you’d bounce up to him with a skip in your step… that equally would send a skip right into his ribs and tore up his lungs. With big bright eyes you’d show him something random, something you found, something you made… it didn’t matter.

Just the way you beamed with a radiant smile the sun could be jealous of, it was enough for a snide back handed comment that could be confused for a flirt, “Oh darling, for me? You shouldn’t have, you might just be one of my most devoted fans,” Normally a line like this worked. Either it would send the conversation towards the bedroom or someone left standing alone.

Neither happened. You just rolled your eyes, gave a little laugh and said, “A fan? In your dreams,” And go on chatting like before, unfazed by his little remarks. You were an enigma to him.

Especially during times after a battle. It was always such a gentle touch, when you’d place a hand on his shoulder and praise him for his good work and efforts in the battle.

If vampires had blood to blush he would. He didn’t understand why he wanted to hear more of it, “That was a good job you did out there today,” or maybe it was the way you said, “You did amazing,” He could listen to praises all day. He never knew how much he enjoyed them before.

Let’s not forget, he could hear your heartbeat. Not yours alone. Everyone had a different rhythm and rhyme. For instants Shadowheart, her heart was slow, sad, faint but still beating away with life. Astarion could hear it, just the same as Lae’zel who seemingly had no heart beat at all until the surprising thumb of it came every hour or so. He could hear yours too. Rattle away within your bones. And he paid close attention.

Normally these ‘skills’ of listening to hearts were used to hunt out a target for his master. But with no master and a band of fools, he still used these skills unbeknownst to himself.

He’d listen with eyes glued to a book. You’re heart pitter pattered like any other. But sometimes it’d start racing, picking up speed. Not to long ago a racing heart was the first step into picking a target, since the heart never lies and when a fool looked Astarion’s way if their heart sang that song he knew who would be his unfortunate soul.

But no, this time he just peered from over his book and watched you stare off into the distance, into the darkness of the woods. To his surprise there wasn’t a glance his way or even at anyone. Your heart only raced for fear it seemed. Even when you looked at him or shared a conversation, the same steady beat flowed.

It was something little like this, these little things only he knew as they festered in his mind. They ached within him. He hid it well but it wretched at his organs and plucked at his fibers every time. It was annoying. It was… wonderful…

It was terrifying. The way his breathe would catch when you’d ask him to join you. The way he actually felt anger, as petty as it was, when you asked him to stay back at camp.

Or maybe when he’d hear just the sound of your voice, distant on the other side of camp, muffled, not even loud enough to hear what you were saying but just enough to hear your voice. How strange that something so little as that was enough to ease him into sleep.

#x reader #fanfic #fluff #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion headcanons #hc #astarion bg3 #sobbing violently #I love this man #he has me in a choke hold but when I call him daddy we both cry

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storiesofsvu · 12 days

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Decadent Desires Ch 4

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexually charged conversations and situations, minor kinks slightly explored. Happy (early) Birthday @d33pd3sire-blog !! I hope you have a wonderful day!🩵🩵 (thank you for the kofi)

Emily was blessed with gorgeous weather when she woke up the following Friday, the sun cascading though the sky, flooding the city with the perfect warmth that would last through until the evening. She was pleasantly surprised that she was feeling considerably less nervous about tonight than she had been about your original meeting. Not that she had any better idea what she was doing or about to get herself into, but that she knew you were going to be a much better match. On top of finding you physically attractive she also enjoyed spending the evening with you, the conversation had flowed smoothly, you were smart, quick witted and there was an underlying hint of sexuality that you’d kept just beneath the first layer, ready to reveal once the discussion had finally shifted in that direction. And that was one she was more than eager to explore.

She made sure to arrive at the Conrad with more than enough time to spare, checking in and dropping off whatever she didn’t need in the suite before heading back down to the Summit. The rooftop lounge had an extensive cocktail menu, delectable food offerings and incredible views of downtown D.C. and The Capitol. She grabbed a table and ordered a glass of wine while she waited, looking through all the options on their menu.

The sound of your infectious laugh was what pulled her attention upwards a few minutes later, looking up to find you chatting with the hostess, gesturing in the direction of her table. You had a simple yet gorgeous plum cocktail dress on, the top dipping down to show more cleavage than the last time she’d seen you, the bodice nicely fitted while the skirt flared out. Your hair was loose, curled nicely and your makeup darker, more seductive as you gave her a little wave with a grin before walking over to the table.

“Hope I wasn’t keeping you.” You smiled.

“No, not at all.” She stood from the table, giving you the opportunity to take in her full outfit, form fitting dress pants and a gorgeous red blouse that showed off the curve of her chest perfectly. Her hand landed on your elbow as the two of you leant in, kissing cheeks before you slid into the other chair.

“How was the week?” You asked, picking up the cocktail menu to look through.

“Surprisingly good.” Emily replied, nearly confusing herself at the realization, “got a few of our snags figured out and the pile of papers in my inbox is finally smaller than the outbox.”

“Sounds like you need an assistant.” You teased from across the table, and she huffed a laugh.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think the bureau would like it too much if my signature was forged on everything.”

“Well at least you managed to catch a break.” You offered and she nodded.

By the time the server came by the two of you had managed to shake off any early jitters, slipping into an easy rhythm of conversation. You got a glass of sangria and Emily ordered the cheese and charcuterie plates, tempura shrimp, and scallops to share.

“So, I know you’ve been all over,” you started, taking a sip of your drink, “why choose D.C. to settle?”

“It’s a long story.” She chuckled, “but there were people I wanted to be close to, a few things to keep an eye on here. Just so happened to be close to Quantico.”

“Were you always interested in some form of law enforcement?”

“It was more about helping people, learning how to fully understand the whole psychology of it, why they do what they do. I was always interested in more than just chasing down the bad guys.”

“I’m curious then… why return to the BAU from Interpol?” You asked and Emily’s head titled.

“You know about Interpol?”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to run a background check.” You chuckled, “you may be the fed, but I still like to vet who I spend my personal time with, especially behind closed doors.”

“You’re smart.” She smiled, “I like that.”

“So?” You raised a brow, “what made Washington so much more appealing than London?”

“I missed it. That team had been my family for years and I wanted to come back to them. I knew there was a potential offer hiding in the wings that wouldn’t demote me in a sense and I wanted to help out an old friend. He only trusted me with the job, and I didn’t want the team to fall into jurisdiction of someone who wouldn’t do it justice or only wanted to disband them.”

“How’d you like Unit Chief compared to now?”

“Honestly I think I prefer it.” She laughed, “though I wouldn’t dream of stepping back down into it for the same reasons I took it in the first place.”

“Last thing you want is Bailey directly in charge of your team.” You grinned and she rolled her eyes.

“He’s got his claws deep enough in already.” She groaned.

“Too many politics involved with Section Chief I assume?” You raised a brow and she nodded, a look of near melancholy in her eyes as she switched her gaze to look out on the horizon. “You miss being out in the field, don’t you?”

“Paperwork is menial. And tedious. And so much of it seems entirely fucking pointless. When we were all mainly working from home still, it at least kept me occupied, tied to the job, like I still had a purpose. But now we’re back in the office, my team gets to run off into the face of danger and I’m stuck with the pencil pushers attending meetings that are entirely redundant. The only time I end up opening my mouth is to remind them the BAU is an integral part of the bureau, and they shouldn’t shut it down.”

“Sounds like it’s definitely about time you have yourself some fun.” You rested your chin on the back of your hand, a smirk on your lips and Emily chuckled. When she looked up at you, you could see her eyes darkening just the slightest.

“I suppose it is.”

You were interrupted before things could move further, plates of food now scattered across the table that you were both picking through, loading up your own side plates to get a little bit of everything.

“You mentioned UCONN last time.” Emily started, taking a sip of her refilled wine, “are you from Connecticut or did you just go to school there?”

“Born and raised, figured I may as well take advantage of a rent free college experience while I could.”

“Did you know Heather back then or was it just sheer coincidence?”

“Our parents ran in the same circles.” You replied with a huff, taking a bite of food and you noticed the very brief change of expression on Emily’s face before she managed to conceal it and you laughed. “Before you ask, no I’m not drowning in wealth. The Dunbar’s come from very old money and they’ve always been smart about it, they know how to invest, how to make money into even more money. I’ve never been able to understand it.”

“I assume your parents didn’t either?” She asked and you practically snorted.

“Not in the least. They liked to pretend they knew wealth, shove their way into all the fancy places and while the façade was enough to win over most people, it all came from an inheritance my mother got. Could have been worth something if my father wasn’t blowing it all away on fast cars while mother spent all of her days at the casino chain smoking, binge drinking and consistently losing.” You sighed, taking a large sip of wine, “I’m lucky there was enough left for my college education.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shrugged, “the discrepancies between our bank accounts doesn’t mean the Dunbar’s were better parents or anything.”

“Oh, I’ve heard.” Emily chuckled.

“What about you? Good relationship with your parents?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“So, no?” You laughed, pulling one from her.

“Mother travels a lot for work, she isn’t based here. We tried to kinda work through things when I was younger but between our careers it just never happened, and I’m fine with that. Spares me the lecture about still not being married or giving her grand kids.”

You let out a louder laugh, “why does it seem that that’s any mom’s only concern with their kid’s lives? There’s more than one way to succeed and be happy and in my opinion that’s all that really matters.”

“Exactly.” Emily smiled across at you, “there’s so much more to be concerned about.”

“Mmm!” You suddenly changed gears as you took your first bite of a scallop, “these are incredible.”

“You haven’t had them?” She raised a brow, “I assumed you’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, Conrad’s a pretty high choice of stay for any visiting politician but I’ve only ever had time for drinks. Try them.” You urged, breaking off another piece on your fork and holding it up to her, your other hand cupped underneath it so it wouldn’t drip on the table. She barely hesitated, lips wrapping around the fork as you gently pulled it out of her mouth, not even blinking before scooping up the last bite into your own mouth on the same utensil.

“Oh my god.” She mumbled over the food, “you weren’t kidding.”

“You’ll learn to trust my suggestions sooner or later, I’m sure of it.” You grinned at her across the table.

“I have no doubt, you wouldn’t guide me astray, now would you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You smirked across the table at her, and Emily felt a tingle shoot through her body.

A few minutes later the server came by to clear the dinner plates and offer a dessert menu that you turned down, feigning to the server that you’d had enough, and Emily asked for the cheque.

“Not a sweets fan?” She asked, polishing off her wine and you chuckled over the rim of your glass.

“I prefer to get my sugar a different way.”

“So you are interested in moving this upstairs?”

“Well, I sure hope so. I was bargaining on more than just dinner tonight.” Your lips turned upwards in a sly smile that Emily returned, slipping her credit card back into her wallet.

She guided you up to the ninth floor, letting you into the suite first. A small entry way opened up on the left into a large studio space, a breakfast bar splitting up the counter where the microwave and fridge were and the sitting area. A circular table with two chairs, a small sectional that faced the television and a thin divider that hid the bedroom space, the bathroom connected to that.

“Help yourself.” Emily gestured toward the bottle of wine on the breakfast bar, and you wasted no time in pulling down two glasses from a cupboard to fill up. Sliding one across the counter to her you settled in on a stool, unsurprised when she returned with a file folder in hand. “To be completely honest, I’m not even really sure how to do this part.” She let out a slightly awkward laugh and you hummed.

“Don’t overcomplicate it. Think of it as a business transaction with a little bit of negotiation.”

“I guess that’s actually a good place to start.” She took a sip of wine, “I think the first step should be letting you know that this is exactly that, a business transaction. It’s casual, and I don’t want you to think of it as an exclusive relationship. I’m busy, we’re both busy, if you happen to see someone else that’s more than okay as long as everything is done safely.”

“Understood.” You slipped a sheet of paper from your purse, sliding it across to her before resting your chin on the back of your hand. “I figured you’d want a clean bill of health.”

“Thank you.” She tucked it into the back of the folder, “I guess money would be the next step?”

“I’ll save you the headache.” You snagged the agreement from her, eyes scanning the page until you found the blank lines to be filled in about allowance and picked up a pen. “I’m also giving you one hell of a deal, considering I don’t need to do this for money my rates are extremely low.”

“Noted.” She laughed.

“Considering our schedules I’m going to veto the allowance and say we just do a price per date, there’s likely weeks we’re not going to see each other, and I want things to be fair. One hundred for casual dinner and drinks or something of the equal amount of time that’s simply companionship.” You began to scraw notes out on the agreement, “two hundred for a date night and sex. Three for anything longer than a standard date and if you drag me to any of those horrendous FBI galas, I’m tacking on another hundred.”

She barked out a laugh, “more than understandable.”

“I expect you to pick up the tabs most nights, but if there ever is a day that I plan or invite you out onto, don’t feel obligated. Then treats and gifts are obviously welcomed and encouraged but that is up to your discretion, think of them as rewards.”

“And you’re sure about those rates?”

“Considering the costs hotel rooms like this will run you? Absolutely.” You laughed softly.

“Do you have preferences when it comes to gifts?” She asked and you scrunched your nose.

“Not particularly? Gift cards and cash obviously work, I could use a few new pairs of shoes, a dress or two, jewelry’s always nice, standard date type gifts. Could definitely use some new lingerie sets, and I mean…” you glanced over to her, that sly smile back on your cheeks, “new toys are always fun.”

“I do not disagree with you there.” She grinned back, “so let’s talk sex.”

“I am curious, is this about you needing to get off, relieve some of that stress and relax for once, or will you be the one fucking me into next week.”

“Christ.” Emily muttered, the tingling in her body moving lower, surveying you with a gleam in her eye. “I was thinking a mutual benefit but to be blunt I’m the one wearing the strap more often than not and I have no qualms with fucking you into next month.”

It was your turn to feel the fire prickling under your skin, heading south as you tried not to shift too obviously in your chair, “a confident woman with a cock? I love it.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” She assured you and you huffed a small laugh.

“I’m sure I won’t.” You took another sip of wine, “so let’s talk kinks. I’ll tell you right now the hard off the table ones are piss play, scat play, major pet play, age play, I’m not really into anything involving food in the bedroom and please nothing involving feet.”

“You can count yourself safe from all of that.” Emily laughed, pulling a warm smile from you, “I personally don’t like being restrained or blindfolded, but I have no issues tying you up.”

“As long as you’re not using work issued cuffs.” You noted.

“Do I dare ask?” She raised a brow in your direction.

“I dated a local cop in college, those things hurt.”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed back, “I’m partial to silk ties, it’s nice to keep things pretty.”

“Agreed.” You smiled at her before glancing back down at the agreement, flipping through the pages and she watched as your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“There’s nothing in here about how to address you.” You looked back up at her.

“I thought we went over that last week.” She laughed, “just Emily is fine.”

“No ma’am?” You asked and she was very quick to shut you down.

“God, please no.”

“Most women like the title mistress, or mommy.”

“Oh…” Emily’s nose scrunched, “I guess I hadn’t thought about that….”

“I mean some do go with daddy if you’re more inclined.”

“Is that like, an all the time thing? Or just in the bedroom?”

“Could be either. I’ve heard of relationships where it’s constant and I do find that over the top but every once in a while in bed, it’s kinda hot. I mean after all, one really just wants to be a good girl for mommy.”

Emily paused, letting your words sink in for a moment as she tried to figure out how she felt about the whole thing, especially considering she was about to be your sugar mommy. “Let’s… bookmark it for later.” She looked up at you, catching a small nod but it was the wicked smirk on your face that caught her attention first, “what?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, “I’m just not that surprised you might be intrigued. I heard you had quite the fun time entertaining Benjamin Reeves last month.”

“Oh god…” Muttering, she dropped her head, running her hand over her face and you let out a playful laugh.

“Walls really do talk.” You teased, flipping through the rest of the file, “speaking of…there’s no NDA in here?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary.” She shrugged, “there’s a piece near the end saying anything involving my work that comes up in conversation isn’t to be publicly aired anywhere but that’s all I really need.”

“Well,” finding the piece you scrawled your signature under it, “you don’t have to worry about me running to the press. Your secrets are safe with me.” You flipped the papers back in order and closed the file, sliding it back across the counter to Emily before scooping up your wine glass to walk around the counter. “Now… I do believe we’re done with the boring part…”

You approached her where she sat on the stool, your wine glass coming to rest on the counter only an inch from her own as her body turned toward you. Her hand found your waist, nudging you closer to her so you could slot yourself between her legs while she leant forward, her free hand brushing your hair back from your face. You could feel her breath hot on your skin, lips parting ever so slightly as you leant in, eyes flicking from her own down to her mouth, the distance about to be closed when there was a sudden, very loud, and repetitive buzzing on the counter.

Emily groaned, her eyes falling shut as her head fell back and you let out an annoyed huff.

“I swear to god if that’s fucking Heather I’m resigning.” You reached towards your phone at the same moment she did.

“Nope, it’s me.” She opened the screen, groaning again as she read the text messages, “and I have got to go.”

“Political crap or serial killer?”

“Serial killer.” She stood from the stool, her hand squeezing your wrist while she leaned, kissing your cheek quickly.

“Go save the world.” You raised your wine glass in a salute to her as she grabbed her bag from the couch.

“Please, finish the wine, feel free to stay.”

“I’ll take the bottle home.” You replied.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need.” You assured her with a soft smile, “next time.”

“Oh. Guaranteed.” She nodded, “get home safe. I’ll text you when we’re back.”

“I look forward to it.”

With another apologetic smile she was gone from the suite, leaving you to dump the remnants of her wine glass into yours, wandering up to the window to take in the city views as you finished it.

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #emily prentiss fanfic

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moongreenlight · 7 months

Text

More on Soap and his f!demon!reader because you guys forced me like oooookay I get it you’re horny on main

Just kidding everything I do is for you. All you have to do is vaguely imply that you want something and I’m all over it baby anything you need.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Johnny’s demon who follows him everywhere after his first kill. Bound to him the moment the bullet left his chamber. A partnership of sorts. Cast into the pits and valleys of his soul. Gifted to him in the few intimate moments where the deafening blast of his rifle slowed time. Kept a secret even from him. A partnership between this world and the next. Quite literally a give and take. You sworn to him so long as he kept up his end of the bargain. Kill or be killed.

You stayed concealed in shadows for years. Flitting from corner to corner to make sure you always had an eye on him. Silently coaching him through little whispers carried to his ears on the wind. Watching him grow as a soldier under your care. Honing and refining his skill as you saw fit. Leaning your chin just over his shoulder during missions. Voice leading him through to victory like siren song.

Protecting him when it was necessary. Wrapping your big wings around him to shield him from an onslaught of bullets. Leaving his side only for a moment to gore a sniper with their sights on him with your blackbuck horns. Curling your fingers around his to force the trigger of his pistol back if he hesitated and put himself in danger.

It was a bit dirty in principle. Like forging his signature on the deed that signed his soul over to the devil, but he didn’t seem to mind. The cost of invincibility coming at a relatively low price all things considered. The only drawback was his ego. Sizable before, now bloated into something almost grotesque. Cocksure and arrogant but not without his charms.

Not to mention, you’d almost taken a liking to Johnny in your time together. Like a parasite slowly becoming fond of their host. He keeps you fed. Bringing you with him to the field, letting you gorge yourself on blood and carnage and pain until all you can do is drape yourself over his broad shoulders and lazily flick your magic around when it’s required. And he’s decently entertaining for a mortal. Has to be the best company you’ve been forced to keep in at least a few hundred years.

Though you found yourself getting increasingly irritated each time he came home from a mission and thanked God of all people. Letting him pick up a few more scrapes and bruises than you usually would on his missions after that whole bit started. Each murmured ‘Thank you’ making you hiss and howl down at him from your perch in the shadows. Wanting to show him just who he should be thanking for his survival.

Tired of his baseless belief and wanting to teach him a lesson on saying thank you; you revealed your human form to him during midnight mass on Christmas Day. Can’t say you didn’t have a sense of humor.

You sat alone in the pews. Feeling when he entered the church minutes after you. Skin erupting into goosebumps, hair standing on end, a heat starting under your skin like you’d been dropped into a pot of water being slowly brought to a boil. You watched from the corner of your eye as he and his family slowly made their way down the rows of pews, finding yours was the only one with enough room to hold the lot of them together. It all seemed too perfect when you and Johnny ended up knee-to-knee.

You felt his energy shift. He could feel you as much as you could feel him, but the sensation was foreign to him. The same discomfort you’d been plunged into when you took your human form. Trying to cooly fold the sleeves of his dress shirt up at his elbows and seem attentive to his mother who was harping on him about his hair up until the moment the priest stepped to the pulpit.

You didn’t get a chance at him until the congregation was finally prompted to greet one another. Some love your neighbor nonsense.

Johnny turned to you immediately. Standing from his pew with the rest of the crowd. Unable to sit still in such discomfort. His skin hot as yours. Buzzing just under the surface like he was inches away from a live wire.

You blinked up at him through thick lashes, wetting your lips with a flick of your tongue before pushing to your feet. Letting him shift his weight for a few more moments as you looked him over.

Standing in front of him, he dwarfed you. Always had- but especially now when you didn’t have your wings or horns to compensate. Not the tallest in the room, but carried himself like he was. Chest puffed out, arms subtly flexed by his sides, dress shirt hugging his muscled form just right.

He stuck a hand out. Brow cocked as he sized you up with glittering blue eyes.

“Peace be with you.”

He spoke first. You fitted your hand in his. Barely blinking when the meeting of your skin elicited something like a static shock. Relieving both of you from your discomfort.

“And with your spirit.”

You responded through a coy smile. He looked reluctant to take his arm back. The shock hadn’t deterred him. Instead he wrapped his fingers all the way around your hand, hanging on to you for a beat longer than was necessary.

“Alone on Christmas?”

He still didn’t let go of your hand. A sharp smile. Almost predatory.

“Nobody to spend it with.”

You shrugged, still gazing up at him with big doe eyes. Finally allowing your hand to drop from his and immediately feeling pins and needles in the absence of his touch.

“Don’t believe that for a minute.”

You caught his knee inching toward yours on more than one occasion as the mass carried on. Like he was testing the waters to see if you were truly the reprive he was seeking. Fidgeting slightly where he sat. Teeth clicking softly as he ground them. Cracking his knuckles. Clenching and unclenching his jaw. Shifting his hips slightly forward on the bench. To his credit, he showed an impressive amount of restraint. Never touching you. Not that it would have done much through his trousers.

The one true pitfall of your being bound to his soul. Forgotten until now in its seeming insignificance. It was near agony for the both of you when you took human form. Like your life force being torn in two and dangled temptingly close but just out of arm’s reach. A kind of pain that didn’t need to land blows on either of your physicalities. Felt divinely through each you. Not used to being separated, you had an almost instinctual need to be together. You’d known beforehand and he seemed to be picking up on it quickly. Skin needed to touch skin in order to provide either one of you any relief. Give both of your spirits space to knit themselves back together.

For being so tightly braided in the fibers of his being, you found it almost shocking that you hadn’t noticed how desperate he could be when he was looking for release. Body tense in his increased discomfort. No doubt grappling with the effects of your separation. Sweat beading at the back of his neck. Tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. Bouncing his knee. Looking up toward the rafters before fixing his gaze on you in an attempt to pass it off as a sweep of the room. The way he brushed your arm reaching over you for a bible nestled in a pocket just in front of you. Making contact with your exposed skin for a fraction of a second and nearly whining when the both of you felt your unease settle for a fleeting moment.

Trying to push up against you when you were down on the kneelers, murmuring a clipped apology each time. Still somehow finding time to rake his eyes over you. Nails digging little half-moons into the back of his hands where they were clasped in prayer.

On the tail end of the service, communion was given. You followed behind Johnny and his family. Just behind him like you had so many times before. His normal prowl substituted for a more casual saunter. Subduing his ego for something a bit more reserved in the presence of not only his family but also the good lord. Nodding his thanks as he took his bread and wine. You had to fight back the distasteful curl of your lip at the motion. Even now he was thanking God.

You saw the way he tried to casually turn his gaze back to you when you stepped up to take your Eucharist. Tongue laid out flat and long, head tipped back a few degrees. Intentionally pornographic in your acceptance of the wafer. Nearly tripping over his feet when he caught you staring straight back to him. You made a show of pulling your tongue back into your mouth, your best attempt at a demure smile curving your lips.

He tailed you closely on your march out of the church. You lingering on the walkway. Seeing the way his eyes flicked back to you as he walked his parents to their car. Mother still going on about something or the other. He needed to visit more or he needed a proper haircut or he needed to call more. He cut her off with a kiss on the cheek before closing the car door. Shook his father’s hand. And as expected, crossed the parking lot quickly to get back to you. Grinning wolfishly as he saw you stood with your winter coat folded neatly over your arms pretending to look around for who knew what.

“Still alone, are we?”

He queried, standing in front of you, folding his arms over his chest. You didn’t miss the way he flexed just barely, making the dress shirt bite into his bicep.

“You worried about me?”

You cocked your head slightly to the side, chewing the inside of your lip to dilute the smile threatening to curl your lips.

“Ken I oughta be, pretty lass like you.”

He chuckled softly, blue eyes glittering under the warm glow of the lights outside the church.

“Aren’t you sweet.”

You deadpanned.

“You’ve got no idea.”

He’s used to getting what he wants, that ego of his. And you’d made the mistake of not outlining exactly how quickly you’d play into his game beforehand. Mind now clouded from not being with him. Walls came crumbling down embarrassingly quick.

He’d somehow persuaded you to let him give you a lift back to his place. You making up some excuse about not being from the area, staying with a friend who must have fallen asleep instead of picking you up after church. Somehow allowed him to keep his hand fixed on the small of your back up two flights of stairs to his flat. Somehow wound up with a tumbler of whiskey in your hand, pushed onto the couch with Johnny sandwiching you against the arm.

Awfully smart for a mortal man. Figured out what it took to keep him comfortable and ran with it. His fingertips ghosting along the hem of your dress. Delighting in the goosebumps both of you got when he brushed your skin with his. The insatiable heat crackling within each of you dying down each time only to be fanned with a renewed fervor when he drew back. Eventually settling on not pulling away at all. Resting his hand on the top of your thigh, running the fabric of your dress between a few fingers. Careful to keep his palm flat against you. Infuriatingly comfortable with you seeing as you were a complete stranger to him. Chatting like the two of you were old friends. Flirting like you had done this time and time again.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Couldn’t be arsed to play the fool and try and skirt around the subject. A dog after a bone, really. Practically drooling over you as you made idle chitchat. And the worst part was that it was working. You’d try to blame it on your addled state. Not in your right mind. Only you knew how flimsy those excuses were. Trying to curb his advances with little success. Trying to keep the ball in your court.

You were still looking to assign blame to something when he grabbed your hips and tugged you under him on the couch. Circumstance. Mindset. Whiskey. Church. God. You couldn’t even remember what the two of you had been talking about. Something insignificant. Very well could have been the weather. You had a feeling it didn’t really matter.

Hovering over you close enough to feel his feverish heat all over. His knee forcing its way between your legs like he felt some kind of right. Using his big paws, still clamped around your hips to grind you against his thigh. A sharp laugh when you tried to hide the soft mewls that bubbled up inside you.

You felt smaller than you had in eons. Not used to being jerked about. Reduced to something resembling a true human under Johnny’s touch. Not having been material for centuries would do that, you supposed. No room to think about the needs of your physical body if it’s something that’s been shelved until now. And- fuck. It’s like somehow your body had found room to store up thousands of years of repression. Bursting at the seams. Somehow, the heat in your belly rivaled that of being separated from him. A feeling that couldn’t be sated like your bloodlust. Like a hunger that could claw its way up out of you if left untreated.

He was grinning at you like the cat that ate the fucking canary. Properly giddy. Tickled with himself for snatching you up. You wanted to snap at him. Hiss and spit like you had when he’d thanked God instead of you after a mission. Remind him that he wasn’t the hero he thought he was because this was all part of your plan, but the words died in your throat.

“Jesus. Thought you’d be a good girl. Meetin’ you in a church and all.”

His voice wasn’t doing anything to help your case. Nearly sending you feral under him. Unable to help the wetness gathering at your sex. You tried to press your thighs together. To buck his hands off of you, but it only made him snap his teeth in your face. His fingers bit in just a touch harder, pressing you down into the couch.

“Thought you said you were sweet.”

You bit back, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Dinnae know s’what you wanted. Don’t seem like it.”

“Funny.”

You shot back, voice a bit more obviously breathless than you would have liked. He’d let go of your hips, leaving you to grind yourself against the muscle of his thigh that was pressed tightly against you. He looked down, watching the way you moved. Whining at the sight. You were much too lost in your mind to notice the small damp spot that was forming on the leg of his trousers. Rolling your hips lazily against him.

“You like funny? Cunt get this wet for any funny bastard that comes along?”

You couldn’t muffle the high keening sound that tore from your throat in time. His filthy words taking you by surprise. Blinking rapidly and making a vain effort to still your hips, but he was quick to the kill. Snorting a laugh and tugging you up off the couch. Bullying you down the short hallway and into his bedroom. Walking you backwards using his legs to guide you. Puffed-out chest knocking you in the direction he wanted, kicking at your feet if you were going to run into the wall or a corner. Herding you like some sort of farm dog. There was a nasty look in his eyes now that you weren’t touching anymore. Even a few seconds apart seemed too much.

He shoved you backward onto the bed, not giving you time to adjust the awkward angle at which you’d landed before he was knelt before you on the ground. Yanking you forward by the backs of your knees which caused your dress to bunch at your hips. Leaving your dripping sex exposed to him. The thin panties doing little to hide your arousal. You yipped softly, trying to twist away from him. Give yourself the high ground, but he wasn’t having it.

He wasn’t the light, arrogant, charming Johnny you’d seen before. Nor was he the dark, rough operator you’d seen him be on the field. This was something different entirely. He looked like a predator that had finally caught some elusive prey. A flash of his teeth through an infuriatingly smug smile. Eyes raking you over like he was about to tear into you. It made something deep within you coil tightly. The heat in your belly now at a roaring boil. Your plan long forgotten. Lost somewhere to swirl among the fog that took over your mind.

Given the animosity he was exuding, he took his sweet time warming you up. Kissing, nipping, sucking, licking his way up your legs. From knee to hip on both sides. Leaving small, dark marks on your skin. Marking his territory. Panting softly over your barely clothed cunt. You making your situation even worse when you twitched and mewled softly under him. Cheeks burning a deep scarlet.

It was entirely too much and somehow not enough. The visual of him knelt between your legs that were hanging off the bed. His artful way of touching you. Your thundering heartbeat and the blood rushing in your ears. It nearly pushed you over the edge without him even needing to touch you.

He was a dog pulling on a taught leash. Doing everything he could to restrain himself. His breathing was ragged. Eyes steely. Pupils blown out. Unable to look away from the damp spot on your panties. Humming his approval at the sight. Working his calloused fingers under the fabric and guiding them down your legs. His muscles were tense, impossibly so, threatening to burst the seams of his shirt. Swallowing hard when he finally got a look at your drooling pussy.

“Jesus, bonnie. Fuckin’ perfect.”

He shifted slightly on his knees. Cock pressing uncomfortably hard against his pants. The muscles in his jaw twitched slightly. Sat stilled for a moment with his hands at your thighs with a white-knuckle grip.

You whined. A choked sound. Trying to squirm out of his eyesight. A bit uncomfortable being ogled. This sent him back into action, strong hands yanking you back toward him. Snapping his teeth in your face in warning.

He then spent more time working you out. Like he had nothing else he’d rather be doing. His mouth hot and wet. Touching anywhere but your clit out of some torturous principle. Spreading you open with his thumbs. Lolling out his tongue and allowing drool to drip down off it and add to your gathering slick. Blowing cool air on you. Watching your every twitch and shake with lust-glazed eyes that somehow seemed more attentive than normal. Committing you to memory.

You were nearly in tears. He’d ruined your plan. Turned you from an all powerful being into some shivering, whimpering thing. Overstimulated without him needing to wreck you with an orgasm. Sweating and whining and yelping at his touch. Trying to tangle your fingers in his hair and jerk him closer, but he just swatted your hands away or sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh to shut you up. Unable to be put off of his path even after you’d stooped well below your status and managed to ask nicely a few times.

And when he finally, fucking finally, showed you a bit of mercy; he only sunk one finger into you. Enough to make you let out a low, throaty growl, but not enough to satisfy you. He pumped in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. Biting his lip and panting as he watched the way your drooling cunt swallowed him so perfectly. You tried to roll your hips into him like you had on the couch. Tried to grind into his knuckles to give your swollen clit some friction, but he rewarded your efforts with a mean slap on the leg. It took you by surprise. Pain like that- physical pain- had been so rare that it made you cry out and jerk your head up to stare at him wide eyed and open mouthed.

“Yer gettin’ bratty. Take what I give you.”

He shrugged, still unable to tear his eyes away from where you were clenched around him. Though he didn’t bother hiding the smug smile he was sporting.

“N-not enough. More.”

You whined, tossing your head back onto the mattress.

“Hell of a way to say thank you.”

He chided, tutting his tongue softly.

“You’re out of your mind if-“

He put a quick stop to your impending tirade by stuffing you full with another finger. A soft squelching sound as he began to pump faster that sent you reeling. Unable to form a coherent thought, you were left to fall apart on his bed. Legs hanging lamely off the edge as he had his way with your cunt. Treating it like you weren’t even there. Cooing pure filthy words of admiration to your sweet cunt. Pinching around your clit for a moment before sliding back down to hold you open between the index and middle fingers of his free hand.

Fuck. So pretty. Look how she sucks me in, mm? Needy thing. Never been treated this good? Need‘ta get you ready, yeah? Bet she’ll be prettier all stretched out.

By this point, you were sobbing. Fat tears rolling down your cheeks and creating little stains on the comforter on either side of your head. Rolling down your neck. Something coiled so tightly under your belly that you were certain you would implode. Turn yourself inside out before he ever granted you release. Pained and overstimulated and under-stimulated all at once. Rendering you useless in doing anything other than moaning and fisting the sheets weakly in your hands.

He stayed like this for a few minutes, until he could tell that you were getting pushed to your breaking point. Working up his pace. Curling his fingers more and more. Letting his breath fan you. Still uttering filth like it was prayer. Fucking reverent. Slowly adding drops of water to a reservoir until the dam burst. It sent you careening over the edge when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit and gave a gentle suck. Lewd, wet noises coming from the both of you. It took all of a few seconds for you to reach your orgasm. Whatever had been furled tightly within you finally snapping and exploding outwards. Wiping your mind clean. Only allowing you to focus on your release. Walls clenching and spasming around his fingers that did not relent. Crying out and moaning and gasping much louder than you’d meant. Clapping a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. Bucking your hips up into him and re-starting the entire process when your now hypersensitive clit grazed his teeth or tongue.

He stayed latched on to you for much longer than was appropriate. Lapping up as much of your spend as he could. Working his fingers into you well past the point of exhaustion. Keeping you spread open and on his view the entire way. Paying no mind to the way his knees began to object to his position or how tight his cock was pressed against his pants. Obsessed with the way your body reacted to him. Obsessed with your pleasure.

It felt like he was trying to make you come completely undone. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you were nothing but a puddle on the bed. He spared you no mercy when he finally pushed himself to his feet. Hands flying to his belt and tearing it off. Too impatient be bothered to shed his trousers completely, opting to tuck the waistband just under his heavy balls. Shucking your dress up over your head. Using the slick gathered on his hands to lubricate his cock before he started fucking into his hand.

His leaking tip bumped against your clit each time he thrusted forward, sending you spiraling. Seeing stars. And now that he was certain he’d gotten you to come, it seemed the only thing he could focus on was his own orgasm. Yanking off his dress shirt with one hand. Working his needy mouth across your chest, up your neck, over your jaw until finally he met your lips. Leaving a slick trail of spit in his wake. Meeting your mouth with such a desperation that your teeth bumped together. His tongue sloppily working it’s way past your lips and further into your mouth.

He continued to fuck into his hands, eyes rolling back each time he brushed against you. Hypersensitive by nature, amplified a thousand times by the throbbing hardness of his cock. Dipping into you just a centimeter at a time. Driving the both of you insane. The scalding heat of his skin pressed flush against yours. The taste of yourself still on his mouth and chin. Sweat on sweat. Your head spinning. Mind still clouded with blinding pleasure. You wanted to tear him to shreds. So frustrated with him and his effect on you. Ruining your plans. Like he’d taken a seam ripper to your edges and was pulling you apart without even needing to try.

He hummed something filthy that you couldn’t quite make out. Sound muffled by the blood thundering through your ears. Letting out something that resembled a scream when he finally sheathed his cock deep within your walls. No longer satisfied with the stimulation of his hand. Bottoming out on his first thrust. Finally slipping himself out of the collar that was choking him in his rabid attempt to bury himself in you. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth, and you found yourself truly connecting the dots as to why he was so insistent on stretching you out with his fingers and loosening you up with multiple orgasms.

Your back arching impossibly further up into him. His sweat-slick forehead pressed hard against yours. Noses bumping together as he set a punishing pace humping into you. His eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Groaning and whining about how good you felt around him. He was beating hard against your cervix. White-hot pain popped spots behind your eyes. Your body trying to adjust to the feeling of him buried so deep.

“Fuckin’ perfect. Takin’ me so good.”

His tone was stuck somewhere resembling a growl. Rumbling so low you swore you could feel it in in your chest. Teeth clenched. Huffing in sharp breaths as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly. All you could do was mewl and cry under him in response.

He reached his orgasm relatively quickly, burying impossibly deeper into you when he finally came. His face buried into the crook of your neck, teeth sunk into your collarbone. It irritated you that he didn’t think to ask if he should pull out. But that was yet another boundary he didn’t seem to care for. Like he knew there was no way you could deny him. Like he felt that same entitlement to any part of you that he wanted. And honestly- that thought rang dauntingly true.

He thrust lazily into you, riding out his high before collapsing down next to you. Still sporting that infuriatingly smug grin. Fucking glowing. Tugging you over into his big arms and wrapping them around you. Tucking you under his chin and suffocating you with his smell. Sex and whiskey and cologne and incense. You hated that it worked to calm your aching body and mind.

“Oughta keep you around.”

He mused, chuckling breathlessly over you.

You simply hummed your response. Sighing sharply and resigning to the fact that revealing yourself to him at all may have been a mistake. You were at his service indefinitely.

#this took me forever to write because writing smut is so hard I kept having to take giggle breaks #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x you #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap call of duty #soap x reader #John soap MacTavish smut #soap smut

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 months

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Napoleonville [Chapter 9: Clarence House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, Adventures with Aegon (ft. Sunfyre the Ferret), Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, and no more hints for you, start reading!!!

Word Count: 8.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Only 1 chapter left!!! 🥰🧁

He returns in an afternoon of inescapable golden sunlight, hot and muggy, bumble bees and ladybugs wheeling lazily above tall grass, cumulus clouds like tufts of cotton in a sky the color of Aemond’s eye. You hear him talking to Cadi—she’s out in the front yard making mud pies, earth for sugar and sprinkles of stray pelican feathers—and then the weight of his footsteps on the sinking, sloping porch. He opens the door, never locked, and walks through the living room into the kitchen. From behind, his arms circle around your waist; and you’ve missed him so much—dreaming of waves and storms, chains and blood—that you have nothing for him but softness, gentle smiles and a voice hushed with relief.

“How was Norway?” you ask as you roll out dough on the counter. You’re making a buttermilk pie.

“Fine,” Aemond says, resting his chin on your shoulder. But he sounds tired, low.

You turn around to look at him, raising your fingertips to his unscarred right cheek; he won’t tolerate you touching the left. You leave a dusting of flour across his skin like snow, which you have never seen in person and likely never will. The air conditioner is humming. The little pink Panasonic boombox is playing Africa by Toto. “Did something happen?”

“I just missed you.” Then he brightens. “But I was greeted by some very welcome news when I got back to the house this morning.” He’s wearing his neon teal duffle bag. He drops it to the floor and unzips it; inside you glimpse several Nintendo game cartridges, presumably for Cadi. And you think: I’m always here making things, he’s always bringing them from far away. Aemond takes two small dark blue booklets out of a pocket in the inner lining of the duffle bag and gives them to you. On the front of each is embossed in gold lettering, along with an emblem of a bald eagle: Passport, United States of America.

“…Aemond?!”

“There’s one for you and one for Cadi. I submitted the forms a month ago, but even with expedited processing it took this long. Ridiculous. What does the government do all day besides hunt down social programs to defund?”

“But…but…” You open one of the booklets. A photograph of your own face gazes back at you, serious and serene, taken against the white wall of your bedroom before you knew about Aemond being a Targaryen, or Christabel, or Amir’s exodus to San Franscisco, or the profound futility of everything, it seems. “How…?”

“I took the pictures, obviously. The rest was easy enough to find. You store birth certificates and social security cards the same place where you keep the business records that Amir showed me. Typically people have to go to a passport agency in person, but Criston and I have ways around that. Your signature might have been forged on the applications…but I suspect you won’t be filing any police reports.” Aemond grins, pleased with himself. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It’s definitely surprising.” You stare down at the passports, amazed. “Aemond…this is a lot. But you already know that.”

“The whole time I was gone, I was wishing you could be there too. And now I can take you anywhere.”

Your heart is pounding, helpless childlike exhilaration. “Where are we going?”

“Clarence House in London.”

London: it’s another world, a distant planet, a constellation whose name you don’t know, the lost city of Atlantis.“Clarence House? Is that a hotel?”

“It’s a royal residence,” Aemond says, amused. “It’s officially the home of the Queen Mother, but the whole family goes to Balmoral in Scotland every summer, and while they’re gone they often rent out one wing to guests, not just anyone, trusted people like distant cousins or longtime, aristocratic friends. And the Targaryens…”

“You’re marrying Christabel, and she’s nobility. So you’re basically nobility now too.”

“Yes,” Aemond admits, a little guiltily, perhaps. “But you’re the person I’m inviting.”

“And Cadi.”

Now he’s genuinely puzzled. “Of course. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

Maybe I can handle this. Maybe I can make this work.

And you climb onto your tiptoes to circle your arms around the back of his neck, embracing him, thanking him, thinking: Christabel will have his ring, his last name, his family’s mansion, his acquiescent kiss at the altar of the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens…but I have what he’s made of, dreams, soul, bones in the abyss of an ocean of blood. Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~

First class, cheerful stewardesses, an array of magazines purchased from a gift shop in New Orleans International Airport: the National Enquirer and Food & Wine for you, The Face and Smithsonian for Aemond, and National Geographic Kids and Zoobooks for Cadi. The Zoobooks animal this month is the eagle, how quintessentially American. You are served antipasto Italiano, shrimp cocktail, Perrier, and champagne (Cadi gets a Shirley Temple) over the Atlantic Ocean. Aemond shows you and Cadi how to chew gum to pop your ears as the pressure builds to pain. When there is turbulence and he leans in close to tell you everything is fine, Aemond smells like Wrigley’s Doublemint, cologne, Marlboro cigarettes like the logo on his red and white jacket. You press your palm to the cool window, and clouds float by through the gaps between your fingers. The world is older than anything you could fathom; the world is brand new.

There is a black limousine waiting outside Terminal 3 of Heathrow Airport. The driver gets out to load the sparse luggage: Aemond’s teal duffle bag, a frayed and battered rolling suitcase that you borrowed from your mother, a Super Mario Bros. backpack that you found for Cadi at Kmart. Aemond doesn’t have much time to spare, only 4 days, practically a long weekend; but it feels like an eternity stretches out in front of you as the limousine zooms through the narrow, winding streets of downtown London, Starship’s We Built This City piping from the radio. You have never had more than a few uninterrupted hours with Aemond before. Now you will have a hundred.

The London air is cool, grey, misty; fresh rainwater bleeds into puddles, dark pools of mirrorlike reflections. With the windows rolled down and clean slate-colored air unfurling in your lungs, Aemond points to the landmarks you pass: Gunnersbury Park, Chiswick House and its gardens, cathedrals, museums, shopping districts, centuries-old cemeteries, stations of the London Underground, the River Thames, Hyde Park, the Ritz Hotel, Buckingham Palace, Saint James’ Palace, and at last Clarence House. It is a boxy white four-story townhouse with columns at the entranceway that remind you of the Targaryens’ estate on the shore of Lake Verret, the beautiful yet temporary home they call The Last Desire.

Aemond says that the entire first floor will be yours for the duration of your stay. There is the Lancaster Room, red and gold, and the Morning Room of creams and weak watery blue. There is the Library, the Dining Room, and the vibrantly pink Horse Corridor named for its ample equine paintings and sculptures; Cadi immediately proclaims this to be the best part of the house. She lingers in the hallway examining the art pieces as you and Aemond proceed to the Garden Room, which looks out upon a sea of lavender and shrubs meticulously shaped into a maze no higher than your waist. It has a golden harp and a grand piano, and a vast bed large enough for at least five people, in your estimation. I wonder if Aemond has ever tried that, you think distractedly. I wonder if there are temptations I can’t satisfy for him.

“You and Cadi can have this room,” Aemond says. He keeps wincing and bringing his hand up to the left side of his face; you doubt he’s even aware of it. “I’ll sleep on one of the couches.” Of course he will; Cadi thinks you’re just friends, and she’s aware he’s getting married to someone else. He knew exactly what it would mean when he bought a passport for her. “Queen Elizabeth and her husband Philip lived here before she ascended to the throne. They loved it so much that at first they refused to move to Buckingham Palace, which is the traditional residence of the reigning monarch. But their insolence was worn down. No one gets to break the rules.”

I shouldn’t be in this place, you keep thinking as you gaze around at the portraits on the wall, the stiff unnatural photographs of royals, the vases, the chandeliers, the fireplaces, the plush intricate rugs, the garden on the other side of the windows. People like me don’t belong here. “Aemond, are you alright?”

“It’s my eye,” he confesses with an uneasy, apologetic smirk. “Sometimes flights…the altitude changes…it aggravates the nerve damage. It’s like needles in my skull. But I’ll be okay.”

“You fly a lot for work, don’t you?” You hurt yourself for Viserys, in body and soul.

“I do,” he agrees. He unzips his duffle bag and produces a bottle of Percocet. “Why do you think I carry these around?”

“Take one,” you say. “Lie down, rest. Cadi and I can entertain ourselves for a few hours.”

He’s relieved, he’s grateful. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You can even borrow the bed.”

“Back between your sheets, huh?” Aemond says, in pain but smiling through it. He draws a semicircle from the part in your hair down to your chin, a weightless sweep of his fingertips like a kind breeze. “You are incurable. You can’t resist me.”

“I have my own scheme in mind.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” You grab the front of his Marlboro jacket, appropriate for the overcast London weather. He belongs here, this house, this city, this way of life. He wasn’t made for the primordial heat of the swamplands. You fold into him, close enough to tease, to quicken his heartbeat and momentarily clear the wounded furrows from his brow. “I want my pillows to smell like you. I want to breathe you in all night. It’s how I sleep best.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Aemond says, a little stunned; but he’s elated too. For a moment, you’ve distracted him from his suffering entirely. “I’ll roll around all over them. I will mar the bedding irrevocably, the Queen Mother will never invite me back.” And he watches as you leave, his gaze transfixed and meditative and—more than anything else—hopeful.

“Hey, honey,” you say when you find Cadi in the Horse Corridor, poking a 100-year-old oil painting that she is definitely not supposed to be touching. “Let’s go explore and grab some dinner. Aemond isn’t feeling great, but we’ll hang out with him later.”

“Is it his face?”

You are startled. She knows so much. “Yeah, actually, it is.”

“He showed me,” Cadi says casually, still peering up at the horse; and you remember the day when he took her out to the front yard after she said she wished you were more like her friends’ mothers. “He even let me touch it. Radical, right? It’s so gross, but super cool too.”

Aemond couldn’t stand for me to see how he was maimed, but he forced himself to endure it for Cadi. “What did he tell you?”

“That I should appreciate having a good mom, because not all parents treat their kids right. He said his dad let his eye get crushed. And he told me he’d bet $1 million that you’d snap someone’s neck if they hurt me like that.”

You reach out to skim your fingers through her dark disheveled hair, smiling faintly, fondly. Cadi doesn’t seem to mind. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“Can we get fish and chips?”

“Totally. I have 50 British pounds in my wallet, I assume that’s enough for dinner.”

“Wow! How much is 50 pounds in dollars?”

“I have no idea,” you say. “Let’s go spend them.”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the evenings, you, Cadi, and Aemond gather around the television in the Lancaster Room and help yourself to the extensive VHS collection stocked for guests. You let Cadi pick: Raiders Of The Lost Ark, The Terminator, Firestarter, the Karate Kid, Aliens. You make popcorn in the extravagant kitchen in the basement of Clarence House and the three of you devour bowlfuls of it as you giggle on the couch, engulfed with throw pillows and playfully kicking at each other beneath the blankets. One night at Cadi’s request you bake Betty Crocker’s Party Rainbow Chip cupcakes with mix purchased at a Tesco down the street; on another you make hot chocolate to sip from antique tea cups. Each day, Aemond has new destinations picked out to tour. You ride the Underground like true Londoners to the Hampton Court Palace, the British Museum, Westminster Abbey, the Natural History Museum, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, Tower Bridge, the National Gallery, the Kew Gardens, Imperial College where Aemond received the petroleum engineering degree he never wanted.

As he shows you the classrooms where he attended lectures and seminars—you aren’t sure what the difference is, though you can sense that there is one—Aemond doesn’t talk about math or oil drilling. Instead, he tells you and Cadi about the people he learned about in the history classes he managed to slip into his exacting schedule like splinters into flesh: Sir Harold Gillies who pioneered plastic surgery in his treatment of World War I veterans, Phillis Wheatley who was enslaved as a child and became a renowned poet and abolitionist, Boudicca who led a rebellion against the Roman invaders and upon her defeat succumbed to some tragic, enigmatic doom. Aemond loves stories like this, you can see the light that sparks into the crystalline blue of his right eye. There is nothing he deems more heroic than people who took circumstances beyond their control and made something worthwhile out of them.

The night before the flight back to New Orleans, you’re staring at the crown molding of the Garden Room as Cadi snores softly from the other end of the massive bed and silvery moonlight covers the world. You can’t stop your thoughts from roiling like the North Sea; you can’t stop thinking about desks and chairs and books and clever blue-blooded girls jotting down in their notebooks not cake orders but mathematical equations or dates of conquest. When you breathe in the smoke and cologne Aemond left on your pillows, it tastes dark and forbidden. You climb out of the bed, roomy Bob Dylan t-shirt, pink cotton shorts, hair loose and wild, bare feet.

He is outside pacing around the sundial in the center of the garden, puffing on a Marlboro cigarette and pondering the full moon. “Can’t sleep?” Aemond asks, exhaling smoke as he glances over at you.

“You must think I’m stupid.”

“What?” He stops pacing. “Why?”

“Imperial College,” you say. “And the sorts of people who go to places like that. You must have known a lot of women who could recite Shakespear and name all the kings of England, all of Jupiter’s moons. Things I never learned. Things that I have no use for. I don’t write books or design machines or study the secrets of the universe. I bake cupcakes.”

“And they’re brilliant,” Aemond says, smiling. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“No?”

“No,” Aemond insists. “I think that if you’d been born where I was, you would have done far more with it.”

“Aemond…” You walk across the wet cobblestones to meet him by the sundial. It’s been raining again. The night air is chilly, foggy, painting you with goosebumps. “You still have time to become who you want to be.”

“No. I don’t.”

It’s coming from somewhere, distant but still audible, a parked car or a nearby building: Kyrie by Mr. Mister. Aemond chuckles, flicks the end of his cigarette into the lavender bushes—surely against the rules—and takes your hands in his.

“I remember this,” he says as he dances with you slowly, clumsily; you don’t know the steps. Still, you don’t want him to stop. “In your kitchen.”

He remembers everything. “Right before we went to Olive Garden for the first time.”

He sighs, pretending to be exasperated. “Of course that’s the part you committed to memory.”

“I’ve held onto a few other details too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like how small the back seat of your Audi Quattro is.”

“A limousine would be far more comfortable. I should invest in one.”

You laugh as he twirls you and you trip over your own feet; he pulls you upright before you can fall to the slick cobblestones. And you think: This is real. No matter what happens between him and anyone else, what we have is safe and extraordinary and real.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cupcake,” Aemond murmurs through your hair, holding you without seeking more. “You and Cadi.”

You want him again, or you’re so close to wanting him that the line is less of a boundary than a quagmire, indistinct edges and quicksand that can drag you down to drown in it. “I never knew that this was possible. Thank you, Aemond.”

“It can be like this all the time.”

Not all the time, you think, knowing that there will always be Jade Dragon, the Targaryens, the stock market, the world, the past and the future, Christabel. But some of it.

Is that enough?

~~~~~~~~~~

Willis agreed to you and Aemond taking Cadi out of the country on one condition: that you return her to him the second you arrive back in Napoleonville. It’s late Tuesday afternoon when the plane’s wheels hit the runway and squeal to a halt. Aemond has left his red Audi in the Park-and-Ride lot. You collect the car and soar west on Route 10 into the red-gold horizon, chasing the setting sun.

“Daddy!” Cadi bellows when she throws open the front door of the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office, waving his gift bag excitedly. Inside is a refrigerator magnet, several packages of McVitie’s Digestives in different flavors, and a miniature red-coated Queen’s Guard to keep on his desk, perpetually covered with disorganized papers and crumbs from innumerable desserts. From her poster on the wall, Heather Locklear simpers at you. At the center of the dartboard, poor Tommy Lee is impaled in four different places.

“Comment ca va, cherie?!” Willis opens his arms to hug Cadi when she barrels into him. He guffaws, his eyes are shiny; he has missed her. “Ya had a real good time, I reckon?”

“It was totally tubular. But I’m glad I’m home now. Can I get a horse? His name is Patches and I love him.”

“Huh? What the hell ya need a horse for?” He peeks around Cadi to look at you, a curious blue gaze beneath the thick dark bangs of his mullet. “What’s she talkin’ ‘bout, sugar?”

Beside you, Aemond groans irritably. Then you hear a voice from one of the holding cells, almost always empty: “Hey, cake lady.”

“Aegon?!” you and Aemond say at once, and sure enough, when you check the last holding cell there he is: unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, blue shorts, rainbow flip flops, hair like he’s been in a hurricane, a new eyebrow piercing.

Aemond asks Willis: “What did he do?”

Willis picks up a clipboard from his cluttered desk and begins reading. “Possession with intent to distribute cocaine—”

“I told you, I wasn’t distributing anything! It was for me!”

“Aegon, shut up,” Aemond pleads.

“Possession with intent to distribute marijuana, possession of drug paraphernalia, possession of methamphetamine less than 28 grams, operatin’ a vehicle while intoxicated, possession of MDMA, possession of alcoholic beverages in a motor vehicle, operatin’ a vehicle with a suspended license, resistin’ an officer…” Willis flips the page. “Speedin’, reckless drivin’, disturbin’ the peace while in an intoxicated condition, possession with intent to distribute Xanax, theft—”

“What the hell did you steal?!” Aemond demands.

“Burritos. I forgot my wallet at home.” Now Aegon is indignant. “But I saidI’d get them back! They didn’t need to call anybody about it!”

“Aegon, Taco Bell does not offer payment plans!”

“I can release him to ya, I guess,” Willis tells Aemond in a slow drawl.

“I really appreciate that. I’m so sorry about him, I’m absolutely mortified, I’ll pay whatever fines you want—”

“Wait, no,” Aegon says, panicked. His hands are gripped around the iron bars. “I don’t want to leave.”

Aemond stares at him. “You’re asking to stay in jail…?”

“I can’t go home. Stephanie’s there.”

“Of course she’s there. You knew she was flying in for the wedding.”

“Please let me stay here until she goes back to Monaco.”

“Definitely not. How’s everything else?”

“There’s something wrong with one of the Lake Verret rigs. Viserys mentioned a…a…I don’t remember, a dirt dump or something.”

“A mud pump?!”

“Yeah! That’s it. That’s what he said. It exploded.”

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses, then remembers that Cadi’s still there. She gives him a sly grin. You messed up, she means. Aemond looks to you, apologetic, disappointed. “I’m going to have to drop you off and then head straight home. There are messes to be mopped up.”

“No,” Aegon moans as Willis unlocks the holding cell and then wrestles him out of it when Aegon resists. “No, I’m a felon! I’m a danger to the public!”

“Don’t,” Aemond snaps, and this time his brother listens.

You say goodbye to Cadi—she barely notices—but as you go to follow Aemond and Aegon out of the Sheriff’s Office, she has a question. “Aemond?”

He stops. “Yeah, Cadi?”

“Can I go to the wedding?”

“Weddin’?!” Willis exclaims. “Already?!”

“Not mine,” you say.

“You really want to go?” Aemond asks Cadi with some reticence. But he seems to be considering it.

“Well, yeah. Mom said she and Amir are going. You’ll be there. Lots of cake will be there. And I’ve never been to a wedding before. I want to see what it’s like.”

Aemond turns to you, then to Willis, searching for permission. “It’s alright with me,” Willis says. “As long as someone there is keepin’ an eye on her.”

“It’s your choice,” you tell Cadi. “If you’re interested, I have no objections. But you have to be nice to Christabel.”

“Christabel?!” Willis says.

“That’s Aemond’s fiancée.” And there is a collective uncomfortable silence: Willis nodding slowly as he squints at you, Cadi chewing on her thumbnail, Aemond looking down at his Adidas sneakers, Aegon staring vacuously at the Heather Locklear poster on the wall.

With Aegon squeezed into the back seat, Aemond drops you off at the home Cadi calls the Fall-Down House. The new house hasn’t closed yet, but probably will in the next week. The adolescent gator is sunbathing in the last of the daylight in one corner of the yard; you can hear the pink Panasonic boombox inside playing Another One Bites The Dust.

“Ho, you’re back!” Amir cries, jubilant. He hugs you energetically, staining you with the flour on his hands; he’s been watching the bakery while you’ve been gone and keeping every cent of the profits in recognition of his labor, as agreed upon. “How was London?”

You give him his souvenir: a purple t-shirt with Princess Diana’s face on it. “Rainy. Wonderful.”

“Did you have any kinky sex in the royal grandma’s bed?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “But it was…I don’t know how to describe it. Calm. Normal. Easy. Like we could live that way forever.”

“So you’ve decided to be his Camilla.”

“Some moments I have. Other times I haven’t. But more and more, I just…” You try to decide what you mean. “The thought of giving him up feels impossible. And Christabel…they’re so distant with each other, so disconnected, so platonic. Their relationship doesn’t feel real. Maybe I can ignore it. Maybe this is the best I can hope for.”

Amir pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose and raises an eyebrow. “It might feel more real in three days.”

The rehearsal dinner is on Friday; the wedding is only 24 hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You really should consider writing a cookbook, dear,” Alicent says from where she sits across from you. The dining room table is covered with flickering pink candles, bouquets of wildflowers, drinks garnished with cotton candy and Pop Rocks. Balloons bump against the ceilings, their long ribbons streaming down like the tentacles of a jellyfish. The stereo is thumping out Caught Up In You by 38 Special. Everything is pink and red: the colors of love. Yet just like at the engagement party, no one is talking about the couple getting married tomorrow. You could almost forget that there’s going to be a wedding. That makes it easier; and if denial is the terrain you live on now, so be it. That is far less agonizing than the alternative.

“Oh, no,” you demur, taking a sip of a cotton candy cocktail. You exchange a glance with Aemond, sitting several seats down from his mother. He is in a suit—black and white, fitted, faultless—and smiling, proud of you. “A book?! I couldn’t. Not in a million years.” I never even finished high school English.

“But all of my friends from home are captivated by your recipes, darling, and it would be so much easier if I could simply send them a copy of a cookbook rather than trying to describe every dish to them! Please consider it. Do you promise?”

“That I’ll think about it? Not too taxing a commitment. I suppose so.”

“Good,” Alicent chirps, then turns to whisper something to Criston, who drapes an arm briefly across her shoulders and gives her a reassuring little embrace. Amir is chatting with Aemond about San Franscisco. Christabel is talking to Helaena, who has been forced into a voluminous, magenta taffeta dress that she clearly despises; her chameleon Dreamfyre lurches around the table, occasionally stealing tastes of people’s food. Daeron, with Tessarion perched on the back of his chair, is trying to discuss something called seismic testing results with Viserys but getting ignored. Viserys is deep in conversation with Christabel’s father, the marquess, a large loud man whose booming voice drowns out everyone else. The two of them seem delighted, celebratory, very much in their own world. Their schemes have come at last to fruition. Christabel has several younger sisters in attendance—her bridesmaids—but no mother. You gather from pieces of dialogue you’ve overheard that her mother died when she was a child, a terrible and irreparable loss. Otto is so bored he’s flipping through a picture book about Kiribati. Aegon’s wife, Princess Stephanie of Monaco, is a headstrong, charismatic, and rather critical woman with short dark hair. She notifies Aegon each and every time he fails her, which happens frequently: You’re using the wrong fork. You missed a button on your shirt. You haven’t fucked me properly in over two years. You didn’t send flowers to my grandma’s funeral. This is evidently Aegon’s worst nightmare; he has disappeared upstairs in an effort to escape her.

Dinner is finished, and dessert has been brought by the servants. It turned out more like a crepe cake than a Napoleon cake—the layers of puff pastry didn’t want to fluff up as much as they should have—but no one seems to notice. This time, you and Amir knew the dress code expectations. You are both wearing black to fade into the backdrop like shadows, like distant memories. You are invited guests, but you are also locals, inferiors, recipients of charity.

“Where’s Aegon?” Helaena says. “He has to try this cake, it’s delicious! The cherry jam cuts the heaviness of the cream and pastry dough and makes it a perfect dessert for summer! And the color is delightful! It looks just like blood!”

“Where the hell is he?” Viserys demands, looking around, twisting in his chair. “It’s his brother’s rehearsal dinner, for Christ’s sake. One night of this importance and he can’t handle it? I swear to God, if he’s snorting or smoking anything up there I’ll have him committed to an institution—”

“I’ll find him,” you offer as you stand from the table. You have to visit the bathroom anyway, too many glitzy pink cocktails; two birds, one stone. You depart from the table and Aemond’s gaze follows you, a low heat that is building towards incineration, a baiting promise of dark euphoria that you can no longer pretend you don’t want desperately, defenselessly. Christabel gives you a sweet little wave. She is dripping in gold—dress, heels, jewelry—and seems happier tonight, more self-assured. Perhaps with the wedding so close, her trepidation concerning Aemond’s commitment has evaporated. Surely it is too late to call off the ceremony now. Tonight they feast, tomorrow they recite their vows, and then…

But no, you don’t think about the honeymoon. You will not allow yourself to. It can’t exist to you, and that is how you’ll survive this. Christabel will be in one universe, you in another, two timelines that never cross like something out of Star Trek. And the way she and Aemond interact is so impersonal, so untactile, that it is not so difficult to treat anything beyond chaste pecks on cheeks as an impossibility.

At the top of the staircase, Vhagar is lurking. She wags her long twiglike tail when she sees you and licks the knuckles of your left hand. You give her a pat on the head—and then several more when she whines as you try to leave—then at last she lopes off down the hallway.

Aegon is exactly where you’d assumed he’d be. He’s in his bedroom hunched over his computer and hammering furiously at the keyboard. There’s white powder on his fingers and in his thin mustache. On the screen, bizarrely, is what appears to be neon green grass and an ox-drawn wagon like the ones from the pioneer days. Sunfyre the ferret is stretched out across the bed napping, his angular face resting on his paws.

Aegon whirls around to face you. He is wearing a lime green satin suit but has forgotten to put on a shirt under it. “What? What? What do you want? I’m playing Oregon Trail. I have dysentery.”

“You have what…? Never mind, it’s not important. You need to come downstairs and eat some dessert. People are wondering where you are.”

“I’m busy.”

“If you don’t make an appearance on your own, Viserys will come looking for you. Also there are some Cap’n Crunch treats I left on the kitchen counter that you might be interested in.”

“Consider me tempted. I’ll be down momentarily.”

“You better be,” you tell Aegon, then retrace your steps back to the kitchen. Amir and Christabel are both there getting cans of Pepsi from the fridge and making very cumbersome small talk…or perhaps only Amir thinks it is that much of a burden. Christabel is chattering blithely away about different types of wildflowers. He gives you a look like Oh thank God, an excuse to escape and wastes no time heading back to the dining room.

“Did you notice what’s playing now?” he asks you just before he vanishes, then points towards the stereo in the grand foyer. You listen; it’s Money For Nothing by Dire Straits. “You think they know this song is about class warfare?”

“You should tell them,” you joke.

“Yeah, if I want to end up on Unsolved Mysteries.” Then Amir is gone.

“How are you doing?” you ask Christabel to be polite. You open the refrigerator and start hunting for your own can of Pepsi. “Excited? Nervous? You seem a little more relaxed than the last time I saw you. Are the wedding jitters finally dissipating?”

“They are,” she says, and when you glance back at her she is wearing a bashful sort of smile. It’s not an expression you can read. You resume digging through the refrigerator for a can of Pepsi; Amir and Christabel might have taken the last ones.

“That’s good,” you say noncommittally, hoping she’ll leave. But Christabel doesn’t leave. She seems to have something she needs to say. Just as you spy a lone can of Pepsi at the very back of the refrigerator and lean in to grab it, she proceeds to unburden herself.

“Well, you know, I was so concerned about me and Aemond before. I had no conviction that he especially liked me, and we never had anything to talk about, and he was so dreadfully undemonstrative…I was just beside myself, truly. I didn’t know what to do. But I feel much better about everything now. Norway was so good for us.”

Norway?

You close the refrigerator, your ice-cold Pepsi can clutched in your hand. You’re going cold all over. Slowly, you turn towards Christabel, glittering in her gold dress.

Norway???

“He took you on the North Sea trip.” You hear the words, but it doesn’t feel like you’ve said them. They sound flat and dazed.

“It’s a bit of a secret,” Christabel says; and again, her smile has no cruelty or sharp awareness in it, but her cheeks are pink. She’s blushing. What does she have to be embarrassed about? “My father doesn’t know. He wouldn’t approve. But I just felt…I felt ready, you know? I’m sure you understand what I mean. You aren’t so clinical and aloof about everything. I had to know if Aemond and I really had something between us before we got married.”

“You felt…ready?” Ready for what? Ready for WHAT, Christabel?

“I asked Aemond to take me with him. I begged, actually.” She giggles. “I won’t try to be proud about it! And finally he said yes. We stayed at a lovely hotel in Bergen, and during the day he would have to fly by helicopter out to the rigs, but at night…”

You’re staring blankly at her. You can’t believe what you think she’s going to say. Surely it must be something else, anything else—

“It wasn’t my plan to ever be intimate with a man before marriage, but sometimes…things change. Minds change, circumstances change. And I knew I wanted it. And it went so well! Now what do I have to be nervous about? All the uncertainties are resolved. Now we just sign the paperwork and start our lives together.”

He took her to Norway.

He slept with her in Norway.

“I hope it was just as good for him,” Christabel muses, a compulsive sort of oversharing. But she has had a few cocktails and she thinks you’re nonjudgemental and there’s probably not a single other soul she feels she can be truthful with…so why not the girl who got knocked up at prom and had a baby at seventeen? Surely she’s in no position to judge. “It’ll be even better once we can…you know. When we’re officially trying for a baby and there’s no need to worry about any precautions. I want Aemond to enjoy himself as much as possible. I want to be a good wife to him.”

You feel dizzy; you feel violently ill. And now you see everything: Aemond kissing her with his mouth open and ravenous, his hands between her legs, his hips pressed to hers, peeling off her clothes and learning how to make her moan, make her wet, make her come, and you think of how careful he must have been with her, a girl with no past, no ex-husband, no childbirth that nearly killed her, no stretchmarks and no baggage, just a smooth pristine rivulet of flesh that was so pure and uncontaminated it was weightless, and you can hear—though you don’t want to, though it feels like it will kill you—how tender he was, how encouraging, not a dominant who drinks down fantasies like a vampire sustained by blood but just a man, and a man who has at last found a woman he doesn’t need to grab, bite, bruise, handcuff to a bedpost to feel satisfied with.

He took her to Norway and he never told me.

You are saying something, and Christabel is nodding appreciatively, accepting the sage wisdom of a tarnished life. Your words don’t matter. They are folktales and charms, the croaks of bullfrogs, the whispers of the wind through Spanish moss, the Morse code of ripples in the water of the bayou. You are a novelty and your counsel is a souvenir; one day when she is living in California or Argentina or Australia or Alaska or her ancestral castle back in the U.K., Christabel will tell Aemond’s children: Once I met a nice single mom from Napoleonville Louisiana, and she told me to follow my heart and not let anyone shame me for wanting to be close with my soon-to-be husband.

Vhagar trots into the kitchen and begins nudging her massive head against Christabel’s bare knees. “Hi, big girl!” Christabel coos as she pets the blue merle Great Dane, clearly accustomed to this. “Who’s a giant gorgeous girl? You are!”

What did I expect? I knew they were getting married. I knew they were going to sleep together.

Yes, you knew it, but you hadn’t felt it, and now you have.

I can’t do this, you realize. I thought I could but I can’t.

“Christabel?” Alicent is calling like a windchime. “Darling, there are just a few more things we have to discuss before tomorrow, will you come back to the table please?”

“On my way!” Christabel replies obediently, and she gives you a quick, impulsive hug before vanishing.

I’m going to be sick. I’m going to have a heart attack. I’m going to drop dead right in the middle of this fucking kitchen.

Leaving your can of Pepsi forgotten on the countertop, you escape to the living room and then out the French doors into the garden. You run past the pool all the way to the pond full of multicolored fish you once hadn’t known were koi. You drop to your knees, then lie down on the cold cobblestones, and when it hits you again—Aemond touching her, Aemond loving her—you rupture into sobs that are breathless and shuddering. You try to stifle the noise with your palms; you clasp them over your mouth and smother your wails. It feels like you’re being ripped apart; it feels like you’re in labor, but there is no end, no consolation of a new life, no point at which your body chooses whether you live or die. It is only a razored wheel that turns in you again and again and again, shredding muscle and splitting bones.

There is a hand on your shoulder; someone is patting it awkwardly. You look up to see Aegon standing there. “Sorry,” he says. “You look…not good.”

“I’m really not good. I’m fucking terrible.” Your face is soaked and stinging with tears, your voice is strangled.

“Do you want some coke?”

“No, Aegon.”

“Do you want a ride home?”

“From you? Yeah, for sure, getting impaled by a stop sign would be a great next move for me.”

“I’m totally fine to drive.”

“Can you just pull Amir aside without anyone else noticing and tell him to say his goodbyes and then meet me in the driveway, please? He drove me here. I need him to take me home.”

“Okay,” Aegon says, and then: “Thanks for the Cap’n Crunch Treats. Thanks for remembering something I like and caring enough to bring more. No one really does that around here.” And he’s gone before you can think of a reply.

To get to the driveway without going though the house, you climb over a 5-foot wrought iron fence swarmed with rosebushes and ivy, no easy feat in a black Kmart dress and matching ballet flats. You acquire a dozen shallow gashes on your hands and forearms, but make it to the Ford Escort just in time for Amir to meet you under the full, cloudless moon, tossing his car keys from one hand to the other.

“What did—?” Then he sees your face. He gasps, knowing how bad it is. He’s never seen you like this. He didn’t know it was possible for you to look like this. He unlocks the Ford Escort and joins you inside, turning the key in the ignition. “What the fuck did Aemond do to you?!”

“I have to go home. It’s over, it’s over, I can’t do this.”

Amir is spinning out of the driveway. “Did he hurt you, did he—?!”

“He fucked Christabel in Norway,” you say, sobbing uncontrollably. “And I know I have no right to be jealous, I know we don’t have a conventional relationship, I thought I could handle this but I can’t. I can’t stop picturing him with her, and hearing it, and I…I…I don’t understand why this hurts so goddamn bad.”

“Babe,” Amir says gently, a palm on your trembling thigh. “You’re in love with him. That’s why.”

“This is killing me,” you whisper. You’re shaking all over. You feel like you’re battling for every breath.

Your best friend—your only friend—is quiet for a long time. “Don’t go tomorrow,” Amir finally says. “You don’t need to see the wedding. You shouldn’t put yourself through that. I’ll go, I can handle the cake alone, especially if Cadi’s with me to help with carrying plates and stuff.”

You don’t say anything. You stare out the nightscape window and mop tears from your face with McDonald’s napkins you find in Amir’s glovebox.

“Did you hear me? I don’t think you should go to the wedding tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” you agree hoarsely. “I can’t watch them have my wedding.”

“Willis is dropping Cadi off in the morning, right? I’ll pick her and the cake up from your house and bring her back when it’s over. You can tell her whatever you want…you have another cake order to work on, you’re sick, you’re injured, your mom needs a ride to the doctor, whatever.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

“Hey, look at me.”

You do, sniffling, shivering, in agony.

“You don’t deserve this. You deserve better than this.”

I don’t think I do. I think if I did, it would have happened by now. But you know Amir will not accept this answer. “Okay,” you say again, trying to make yourself believe it.

In the gravel driveway of your sinking house, Amir asks if you want him to say. You tell him no, you want to be alone, you have to think, you have to plan. Really, you just don’t want anyone to see you this shattered. It’s humiliating, it’s like you’re an animal, like something less than human needing to licks its wounds in a dark place. You walk into the Fall-Down House and flip on the kitchen light, artificial yellow luminance. You don’t start the air conditioner. You don’t touch the Panasonic boombox. You stand there mindlessly in the sounds of the bayou: cicada screams, owl hoots, the far-away hissing of gators. The wedding cake is in the refrigerator, banana bread, cream cheese frosting, a kaleidoscope of wildflowers painted by Amir’s expert hand. He’s leaving. Aemond’s leaving. Everyone is leaving.

There are tires crunching on gravel in the driveway, there are footsteps on the sloping porch. He is able to yank the door open because you never lock it. He blows in like a storm that kills.

“What the hell happened?!” Aemond shouts. “Why did you leave?! You didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye to me—”

“You took her to Norway.”

Aemond’s face goes from furious to lost. “Why would she tell you that?”

Not That’s not true, not Let me explain, not It didn’t mean anything. Your stomach sinks, a basket full of stones. “Because she thinks I’m her friend.”

“It wasn’t…” Aemond sighs. “It was a last-minute thing, and it was her idea. She really, really wanted to go to Norway, and I figured…you know…what’s the difference between the wedding night and a few weeks before it? So yeah, it happened—”

“Oh God,” you whisper, starting to sob again.

“And then I came home to your house, to your doorstep, because I missed you the entire time. The entire time, every hour, every minute, and there are no exceptions, okay, are you listening to me? I took her to Norway because I had to. I took you and Cadi to Clarence House because I wanted to. What I do with her is a reflex, an obligation, I’m on autopilot, I’m thinking of you to get myself hard, I don’t know how else to express to you how completely different these situation are in every single goddamn way.”

“She said it was good,” you say huskily, tears snaking down your cheeks that are raw from trying to dab them dry.

“Of course it was good for her!” Aemond flings back. “I’ve had a lot of casual sex, I know how to make women come, it’s a math equation, it doesn’t mean we’re soulmates!”

“I know I have no claim to you, but I…” You gaze out the kitchen window, dark and still, nothing to see but stars and lighting bugs. “I can’t do this.”

Aemond asks, kindly now: “What do you want?”

I want to not have to beg you to choose me. “I want this to be over.”

“No,” he says, panicking. “No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“You’re going to give this up as soon as it gets painful? I’m not worth fighting for, what I can do for you and Cadi isn’t worth a little pain? Because I’m no stranger to it either. You think I’m not hurting, you think nothing ever keeps me awake at night?”

“You could leave your prison any time you want to. But instead you built a brand new one around me.”

“You don’t understand what the kind of responsibility I’m beholden to feels like.”

“Yeah, a town named after Napoleon is the right place for you,” you seethe, enraged. “You’ve felt so fucking small your whole life that now you’re starving for what it tastes like to be in control. But I can’t let you destroy me. I can’t let my daughter grow up watching me settle for less than I need from a man. She’ll learn to live the same way.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Aemond,” you say, and you wait until he looks at you. “Do you really want children?”

When he answers, his voice frayed and his right eye misty. “I love Cadi.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want children of your own with Christabel?”

“I have to,” he says, miserable.

“No,” you plead. “You cannot have a baby with that girl. You can’t, Aemond. You are going to ruin so many lives, not just your own.”

“I have to,” he says again.

“Then get out. Viserys owns you, and Viserys wouldn’t want you here. He would want you back at the mansion impregnating your child bride.”

“She’s a legal adult, she’s 19, and she wants me, she begs for me, I’m not twisting her arm—”

“Then go!” you roar, striking him hard, both palms to his chest. Aemond doesn’t budge. “Get out, go home, go have kids you won’t give a fuck about just like Viserys never cared about you. Go repeat the cycle all over again. I’m done. I can’t be a part of it.”

“I won’t be like him,” Aemond swears.

“You will be. You already are.” You shove him again, but still, Aemond doesn’t move. You know what he’s waiting for, you know the right word to say. But you can’t get it to launch from your lips; it catches in your throat like a blade through the windpipe. “Get out!”

Your fingers hook into the lapels of his black suit jacket and stay there; you can’t let go. You’re both breathing heavily; you can hear it, you can feel the heat in the air. You keep his jacket gripped in your hands, he can move no closer, no farther away. When he leans into you, you breathe in his smoke and cologne; when his hands cradle your face, you feel the benevolent power that once gave you peace.

I want him. I need him. Not forever, no, I understand that’s not possible. But just for right now.

You look up at him and Aemond kisses you, his lips and tongue claiming you like untouched land; he puts down roots, he slits the jugulars of trespassers.

Here. Now.

You drag him down with you. When you drop to the floor, you strike the back of your skull against the scuffed, sloping wood and bite back a yelp.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aemond says, though it isn’t his fault; he reaches for your head and cushions it with his right hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You’re tearing open his white shirt; tiny translucent buttons go flying in every direction. Your palms glide over his chest, up to his throat, to his jaw, to knot in his hair. He reaches beneath your dress to slide off your panties, then buries his fingers between your legs. You moan helplessly, needfully, spreading your thighs wider for him. No man has ever been able to do this to you before: to make you forget everything, to make you feel—if only for a moment—beloved, worthy, chosen. He’s kissing you like he knows this is the last time. You’re touching the left side of his face and he doesn’t even notice, he won’t realize until later that there was a time when he was cured.

Aemond pulls his wallet out of the pocket of his suit pants, flips it open, and roots through it until he finds a condom. He starts to rip it open, moving with desperate speed, dire impatience.

“No, don’t,” you say. “Please don’t. I want all of you.” And I won’t get another chance.

He exhales in deep, ecstatic relief; he wants it too. You’re soaked, you’re ready, you’re aching for him like mending bones. He eases himself into you, gasping, and you are stunned by how good it feels already, how close you are, every rope of nerves and muscle glimmering with an opening heat that builds higher and higher, the reverse of a tornado finally touching down on earth. His hands are linked with yours and pinned to the floor above your head; he’s kissing you, he’s moaning into you, he thrusts deeper and harder when you beg him to do it.

Aemond untangles one hand from yours and reaches low to stroke you. Your fingers find his again and catch him, capture him, bring his hand back to the floor where it can be entwined with yours and his weight can hold it to the scraped wood. “I don’t need it, I’m close. Stay here. Stay with me.”

“I’m here,” he whispers, panting; and the friction of his body against yours overtakes you, and when you come it is blinding, bone-breaking, a whirlpool that traps you for what feels like over a minute, soaring highs punctuated by the illusion of fading over and over again until you think you can’t stand it, and only then does it end, Aemond collapsing on the floor beside you covered in your sweat and your wetness, you feeling the remnants of him bleeding down your bare thighs.

You drag yourself upright—muscles sore in your belly and back and thighs—and roll onto your knees so you can stagger to your feet. You tug on your panties so he doesn’t drip out of you onto the floor. Then you straighten the skirt of your black dress, turn on the little pink Panasonic boombox—it’s a U2 song, Where The Streets Have No Name—and begin washing a muffin tin that was left in the sink.

Aemond stands up and runs a hand through his hair, getting his bearings. He looks down at his pants and fixes his zipper and belt. He tries to close his shirt and then remembers you tore off the buttons. They lie scattered across the floor, useless.

As you scrub the muffin tin, you hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you. His palms begin at the small of your back and then skate around your waist to encircle you.

“Stop,” you tell him; and immediately his hands fall away. Aemond waits for you to say more, but you don’t. You don’t even look at him.

He walks to where the kitchen becomes the living room—you can tell by the creaks in the floor—and again, he waits. After a while he says: “I’ll call you when the new house is ready.”

“No. Have Criston handle it. I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

“You get that I’m in love with you, right?” Aemond forces out, and when at last you turn to him there is the metallic glistening of tears on his right cheek. “I never feel this way about anyone. I don’t know how to handle it, I didn’t even know it was possible. But it’s true.”

“It’s not enough,” you say simply, and resume scrubbing the muffin tin.

He waits in silence, thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes. Then the door opens and shuts—like the jaws of a beast—and he’s gone.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond

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aziraphales-library · 4 months

Note

Do you have any recommendations for accidental marriage fics between Crowley and Aziraphale.

I loved marriage lines and was wondering if you knew of any fics similar to it.

Here are some...

Ineffable Husbands by ImprobableDreams900 (G)

Aziraphale finds an old marriage certificate in one of his books, and it has two very familiar signatures at the bottom...

Sealed by Aethelflaed (G)

London, Three weeks after the Apocalypse: Crowley finds a certain document tucked away in a forgotten book. Mercia, 1020 CE: An angel and a demon meet to finalize an Arrangement... “I’m still not sure,” Aziraphale said slowly, “that the Arrangement need be so…formalized.” “Fifteen years ago,” Crowley snapped, sweeping his wing behind him, “you said you weren’t sure you were comfortable with a nebulous agreement. I don’t know what more you want from me, Angel.” “But it’s hardly appropriate for an angel to enter into a contract with Hell.” Aziraphle carefully placed the document to the side.

Slow by write_away (T)

It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it. It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

Vows by Bookwormgal (T)

Crowley certainly didn't do it on purpose. It wasn't something that he exactly planned. But a moment of desperation and stubbornness gave birth to the creation of something new. A bond forged of power, hope, devotion, love, and promises that he would never break. It isn't often that a demon metaphysically half-marries an angel.

The Next Time We Wed by seashadows (T)

“Guys, I’ve looked at the marriage license,” Anathema said, “and I’ve gotten copies of our notices and everything. The names on the documents aren’t Newt’s and mine anymore. Apparently they never were. They’re yours.” When a drunken attempt to help a friend gets Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally married, their decision to fake it instead of fix it changes their relationship in a way neither of them realizes the other wants. Over the course of a few short months, two supernatural beings discover that there are plenty of things they don’t know about each other, two humans finally get married (again), and everyone learns how to be a little braver.

Legally Binding by Valvopus (M)

Aziraphale wakes up and wishes he wasn't naked in a bathtub with Crowley. He really wishes he remembered what happened the previous night. Crowley just wants to fix things and make sure Aziraphale doesn't stop speaking to him again, because they seem to have done something truly stupid. An accidentally married AU. This fic is mostly set before said marriage. Each chapter is immediate aftermath of waking up married, alongside the backstory of their developing relationship.

And I assume this is the one you mentioned (but please include authors and/or links!)...

Marriage Lines by Bil (G)

Crowley said, voice very carefully even, “So, were you ever planning on telling me that we were married?” In which Aziraphale finds an unexpected surprise, contemplates parchment and copperplate, visits a picture framer, and eventually gets his happy ending.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #accidentally married #mod d

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luellasplanet · 1 year

Text

18. (georgia stanway)

word count: 1.3k

this is a stanners fanpage now btw xx

based on anabor’s song ‘18’

in which matching tattoos end a friendship but spark a relationship

You had met Georgia at the mere age of twelve, been best friends since thirteen, and had done everything together since fourteen. “Troublemakers since the beginning” as your mum would say.

You two stole a bottle of her mums wine, at fourteen, and finished the bottle in a random feild. Stole your older sisters makeup and gave eachother makeovers infront of your bathroom mirror at fourteen and a half. Hijacked their fishing boat for a midnight boat ride, at fifteen, when on holiday with the stanway family, Gave each other food poisoning at fifteen and a half after a not so great reenactment of ‘The Great British Bake-off.’

And at sixteen the two of you made the stupid decision to get matching tattoos, forging your parent’s signatures and stealing some money out their wallets, the two of you headed off into Manchester.

You had gotten a tattoo on your collarbone while Georgia opted to get one on her rib, both of the tattoos could be easily hidden from the view of your parents.

Both of your tattoos read ‘troublemaker,’ written in each others handwriting.

i know it’s just a phase

you’re not in love with me

The two of you had managed to keep your tattoos hidden from everyone, you often spent nights in eachother rooms while Georgia left hickeys scattered in a trail, starting on your neck and making its way down until they were littered around your tattoo.

It was merely fun for the both of you, no feelings, purely just friendship with a little bit of kissing here and there.

As you started to fall asleep your fingers delicately traced her tattoo, while your legs were entangled together. No words were exchanged as your touch sent shivers up her spine. Your shirt was lifted slightly which allowed for the side of your stomach to be pressed agasint hers, the skin grazing against skin made your heart beat slightly faster than normal.

Regardless of how many boyfriends or girlfriends the two of you had, somehow you always found yourself in this position, time and time again.

so if you wanna piss off your parents

One night while Georgia was away on a football camp she calls you extremely panicked, at around one in the morning, “what’s wrong stanners?” You question as you rub your eyes trying to adjust to the very little lighting the stars and moon offered.

“My parents saw my tattoo! Well erm they didn’t actually see it. Lessi saw it, and then just asked me about it as my parents came round the corner. And they heard and fuck y/n, they’re so pissed.” She quietly told you, although you were surprised that the brunette had managed to keep her voice quiet for more than ten seconds, you couldn’t focus on that. “Shit, they’re gonna hate me,” you mutter. “What did you tell them?”

Your voice came out in shaky tones as you tried to control your racing. Millions of thoughts flew into your head at once.

What if you weren’t allowed to see Georgia again? What if her mum hated you? Or her dad, or her brothers? Would she ever invite you round for tea again? Would her mum tell yours? Were you never going to be allowed to see your bestfriend again, just because of a stupid tattoo?

“Y/n? You there?” The voice of the brunette on the other end of the line broke you out of your train of thought. “Mhm, yeah you were saying?”

She paused before answering, “erm, well I told them that we had matching tattoos and now they’re just a little mad… but it’s fine they’ll get over it. I hope.”

Your worst fears were coming true, Georgia’s parents definitely despised you. They’re sweet innocent child had been influenced by you to get matching tattoos.

When your parents found out about the tattoo, they banned you from seeing Georgia again. Claiming that they’re daughter could not be seen walking around with ink splotches engraved on her body.

You had to wait to see her at school on Mondays, but after awhile her appearances at school became less and less frequent, until she barely ever showed up to school as she was too busy with football.

You watched her footballing journey from the sidelines, instead of being there to support her.

There was a little piece of you that would always resent your parents for overreacting about the tattoo to this extent.

Of course, ignoring your parents wishes you got more tattoos. On your ankle, neck, wrist, spine and behind your ear. But you kept them all hidden away from your parents sight with the best of your abilities.

if long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby then you’re in luck

Your hair was carelessly placed in a messy low pony tail, showing off the tattoo on the back of your ear and neck, while your denim shorts and cropped shirt showed off the tattoos on your collarbone, spine and wrist.

You were watching Georgia’s game, along with some of your classmates. Lotte, who you’d had the many encounters with in the past pointed you out to Georgia as they warmed up. You offered the girls watching you a smile and a little wave as they focused back on the task at hand.

When the long game that had eventually gone into penalties was over, Georgia finds comfort in your arms, as your chin rests on her head until she was finally ready to let go, “come back to mine please, my parents aren’t here for the weekend and my brothers won’t care?” She asks looking up at you, although her arms never left their tight grip on your waist. “You look really pretty today by the way, I like the new tattoos.”

You laughed at her before telling her that, “flattery will get you no where my girl, but yes I’ll come over. I’ll just tell my parents I’m staying and Emilia’s house.”

date me to scare them

The two of you were sprawled out on her bed, after eating random leftovers you had found in the Stanway fridge you decided to watch a movie underneath the comfort of her duvet cover.

What was watching a movie turned into you reading a book, holding it with your one hand, while you mindlessly twirled Georgia’s hair in your other hand.

Holding the book and turning its pages with one hand was extremely difficult but you didn’t mind as you could feel Georgia’s breathe fanning against your neck as she read the book over your shoulder.

The peace was disturbed as she softly spoke, careful not to startle you due to the close proximity. “Be my girlfriend y/n, I can’t go on acting like not being able to see you is not affecting me. I’ll treat you better than anyone else I promise.”

You smile at her little speech before turning to face her, “but what about our parents? They’ll absolutely kill us if they find out I’m at your house right now, let alone the fact that we’re dating!”

Completely ignoring the first part of your sentence, georgias attention was focused on the last part. “So we are dating then! Perfect it’s settled, no further comments are allowed!”

Her random energetic behaviour was not unusual in the slightest but her smile literally could light up a whole room as she happily snuggled into your side, placing a kiss against your collarbone (where your tattoo was) before she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

#woso #woso x reader #football #england #england lionesses #georgia stanway x reader #georgia stanway imagine #luella’s fics

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wileys-russo · 2 months

Note

Hey could i request a fic?

Maybe one where teenreader who plays for barça or arsenal gets a nose piercing behind alexia or leahs back ?

just putting this in the same universe and reader as stuck tiny silver flash II barça femeni x teen!r

"there is one other place i wanna go!" you piped up as jana had her car keys in hand, both her and bruna's arms laden with shopping bags as you motioned for them to follow you.

"pollito is this going to take long? i think my arms are going to fall off!" bruna groaned as you rolled your eyes. "nobody told you to buy half the clothes in here bru, sounds like a you problem." you quipped making jana snicker and her best friend kick at her with a scowl.

"what are we doing here? are you getting a hair cut?" jana questioned with a frown as you stopped outside a local salon. "oo you should get bangs! or dye it pink, or blue, or purple, or red, or-" bruna started to ramble before jana's free hand covered her mouth with a sigh.

"not exactly." you smiled innocently as both of their eyes narrowed. "why do i get the feeling we're being dragged into one of her little trouble making schemes." bruna mumbled to jana once her mouth was freed again, jana nodding tiredly in agreement as they both continued in after you.

"wait here, i won't be long." you promised as a worker guided you off and out of their sights. "should we have let her go off with a stranger? is that bad babysitting? was that responsible?" bruna questioned after a minute had passed, jana just shrugging as the two of them took a seat just outside the store on a bench in the middle of the shopping complex.

though when you finally resurfaced it confirmed her question that yes, this was in fact bad babysitting.

"dios mio what is that in your face pequeña!" you rolled your eyes as jana dropped her bags and hurried over to grab your cheeks, turning your head left and right with wide eyes.

"its just a nose stud compañero!" you brushed off both her and bruna's fussing. "how did you do this? did you forge someones signature?" jana questioned again in disbelief. "fraud is a crime pollito, you could go to prison!" bruna added on with a gasp as again your eyes rolled.

"relájese! está bien chica's. you have to be eighteen for a tattoo, sixteen for a piercing." you corrected with a grin, having been planning this for awhile now.

"they are going to kill you so i hope it was worth it pollito." bruna sighed and she didn't have to drop a name for you to know exactly who she was talking about. "i will hide it till it heals, then if they make me take it out it will not close, ningún problema." you shrugged carelessly.

"but you cannot take it out for a few weeks while it heals, sí? what about games? training? you also live with capi!" jana asked, crossing her arms and staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

"engaño." you smiled patting to your shopping bag full of makeup, patting them both on the cheek and striding off toward the exit.

"dios mio jana i was right. she has dragged us into one of her little schemes! estamos tan muertos." bruna moaned throwing her head back and dragging her hands down her face.

"hey! listen to me amiga." brunas eyes widened as jana balled her top in her fists, holding her tightly and yanking her forward so they were nose to nose, the fear obvious in both their eyes.

"the story you posted today? delete it. the ticket for the parking? burn it. the new clothes you bought? hide them. nobody can ever, ever, ever know we brought her here bruna. vale?" jana warned sternly as bruna nodded frantically and her best friend let her go as they hurried after you.

"oye, compañero i think this might be worse than when we got her and vicky drunk at bowling and they threw up everywhere." "imbécil! bruna what part of 'never speak of it again' do you not understand??"

you'd managed to keep your secret for a whole whopping two days by the time training rolled around, which was a god given miracle considering you lived full time with your hawk eyed captain.

careful makeup blending and a flesh colored band aid you'd cut into a tiny circle had served well to hide your new addition, making sure to keep alexia at arms length so she couldn't get close enough to really look at you.

though she was so busy preparing for the weekends match and all the media that came with the el clásico it wasn't hard to slip under her radar for once.

but there was one person you worried might be able to see through your attempted deception, and of course she was the first person you ran into that morning at training, considering she had a nose piercing of her own.

trusting you enough to find your way to the change rooms once inside alexia had left you to your own devices as she hurried off for a quick meeting with all the captains, as was tradition the last session before a game.

"bon dia pollito!" you tried not to tense as aitana appeared beside you, having parked a few cars down in the lot from alexia. "hola tana." you greeted her with a smile, quick to snap your head back forward, grateful she was on your left side and the hidden stud on your right.

the two of you made small talk about your days off as you wandered through the training complex toward the change rooms, the girl of course taking every opportunity to tease you were shorter than her, something that was not very common for the midfielder in a team full of leggy spaniards and scandi's.

but as you turned to push her away and she tried to grab you in a headlock, you gave yourself up by accident.

"espere." the smile dropped from her face and you deflated as she grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back and immediately spotting the backing of the stud in your nostril with a small gasp of surprise.

"tana!" you whined trying to pull away as her grip tightened and she shook her head before letting you go. "estúpida, is this new?" aitana questioned, sending you a warning glare not to be dishonest.

"maybe." you mumbled, giving her a smile as charming as you could muster as she hummed and went to walk off. "don't tell anyone, por favor tana por favor! i will do anything." you zipped around to block her path and begged, clasping your hands together.

"anything?" "anything, promesa! just do not tell, especially not alexia." you pleaded desperately. "vale pollito, i will keep your little secret." aitana started as you breathed out in relief.

"but, for a price." aitana smiled and the twinkle in her eyes had your guard up a little but you knew she had you against the ropes. “and what’s that?” you asked albeit apprehensively.

“no more messing with my things, no more letting mapi mess with my things, no more waking me up on the bus or the plane or the train with the ‘oh tana im bored entertain me!’, no more kicking the ball at my head or the back of my seat, no more squirting water at me and no more giving me the finger with the ‘oh look tana a bird!’. vale?” the older girl raised an eyebrow sternly as you nodded rapidly.

“vale, vale, vale. gracias!” you sighed in relief, squishing her in a hug as she chuckled and patted your back before you let her go, the two of you resuming your walk to the change rooms.

entering the change rooms you flashed a few smiles around as you sat at your cubby, pulling off your trainers and stashing them away as you rifled through your training bag trying to find the medical tape you knew was in there, your ankle a little tight today.

"bon dia pequeña mentirosa." a body dropped next to you, mapi grinning and kissing your cheek as you gagged jokingly and pushed her away, her locker next to yours.

"stop that. i will do it!" mapi rolled her eyes at your attempts to tape up your ankle, pulling your leg up onto her lap as you handed the tape. "something troubling you pollito?" mariona dropped down on your other side with a concerned frown.

"no, just a little tight today." you shook your head as now both older girls gave you a look, mapi strapping up your ankle. "está bien. if it feels off at all i will go see the physios, happy?" you looked between them as they nodded, mario messing up your hair and heading off for the pitch.

eyes roaming around the now half empty change rooms you caught aitana's eye who was talking with keira, and judging from the very slight narrow of the english womans eyes as they studied your face for a mere second or so longer than normal, you knew right away what they were discussing.

you shook your head at the midfielders, aitana sending you an apologetic smile and hurrying off before you could say anything, dragging keira along with her as you prayed to the high heavens both girls kept their mouths shut.

"what?" mapi chuckled seeing the strange look on your face, finishing up your ankle and glancing over her shoulder to try and see what you were looking at. "nothing, gracias maps." you smiled, pulling your leg back down.

"ingrid!" you called out to her girlfriend who was passing by, the norweigan raising an eyebrow as you held up a hair brush and smiled charmingly. "you could not have asked alexia at home?" ingrid chuckled as mapi kissed her cheek briefly and headed off to the pitch.

"alexia cannot even do her own hair, takes her about half an hour to slick it up into a ponytail." you rolled your eyes as ingrid started to brush through your hair, a comfortable silence falling between both of you as the rest of the team slowly filtered out.

"the baby can't do her own hair? awww." lucy teased, playfully kicking at your ankles with a grin as you tried to grab at her but winced as ingrid tugged on your hair in warning, still halfway through braiding it.

"oni!" you called out to your friend who turned around. "your girlfriend needs her leash and collar, she's acting out again." you sniped, lucy squaring up to you before ona rolled her eyes and pulled her away, chatsizing her quietly as lucy sent you a menacing glare as you gav her a fake scared face.

"you need to stop hanging around with maría so much liten, she is a bad influence." ingrid tapped your shoulders as she finished your hair. "she's your girlfriend!" you laughed as you stood, tucked into her side as the taller girls arm draped across you.

"i know, and every day she gives me reason to question why." ingrid sighed as you bumped into her. "no way, you two are so in love its disgusting." you gagged as ingrid playfully reached round to pinch your cheek.

"you will be in love one day liten, and i will be sure to remind your future partner that you think love is disgusting!" ingrid teased, letting go of you as you both smiled and gave a good morning to the social media admin filming the training arrivals.

"how do you know i'm not in love now? or that i will need a future partner?" you gave her a cheeky smile as her eyes widened. "are you-" you'd raced off before she could ask her question, the girl yelling after you that this conversation wasn't over.

"hola!" you launched yourself and near took jana down to the ground, her hands grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up into a proper piggyback with a grunt.

"i was thinking things were too quiet pollito, i was hoping you were sick and we might get a day off from babysitting." jana sighed dramatically as you scoffed. "babysitting! you need babysitting not me." you accused making her chuckle.

"i have to say pollito, you did a good job. if i did not know that you had the stud, i would not notice." bruna marvelled as jana promptly dropped you and grabbed the pair of you by the shirt, dragging you away from the rest of the group.

"what part of we do not speak of it did you not understand? nobody can know we took her there or that we knew about the stud!" jana warned bruna sternly who huffed and tried to pray her hands off her top.

"and you will not tell a soul we knew about it amiga, vale?" jana turned to you now, letting go of bruna and raising an eyebrow when you didn't speak, a roll of your eyes and a nod following.

"perfecta. remember compañero's, when in doubt; deny, deny, deny."

now your makeup and band aid combo may have done the trick for training, nobody batting so much as an eyelid of suspicion toward you.

but what you hadn't accounted for was your teammates being...themselves.

case in point; the water fight which broke out after training was finished.

you didn't think much of it at first, ducking out of the way of mapi's attack and launching your own on cata, laughing as patri and pina used you as a human shield, spraying lucy and mario over your shoulder as you copped the brunt of their own counter attack.

"vale! that is enough for today." alexia yelled out over the squabbles, though there was a hint of a smile on her face and you hadn't missed her spray her own bottle at a few of the younger girls when they weren't looking.

distracted by the feeling of your now soaking wet training top clinging uncomfortably to your body you snatched a towel off mapi, drying your face and arms and not giving it a second though.

that was when there was a tiny silver flash as your stud caught the sun and all hell broke loose.

"what is that?!" "a piercing?!" "who did that to you?!" "what did you put in your face?!" "you put a hole in your skin?!" "who said you could do that pollito?!"

your eyes widened at the questions fired at you one after the other, shrinking into yourself and starting to back away as the older girls advanced, mouths moving at rapid pace.

"don't you dare!" paños grabbed the back of your collar, snagging you as you tried to bolt, a hiss of pain leaving your mouth as alexia grabbed your ear next, dragging you inside and all sorts of angry spanish leaving her mouth.

"sit!" alexia pushed you to sit down at your cubby, flanked by ingrid, paños, irene and frido all glaring down at you. "when?" irene asked sternly as you huffed. "when what." you tried, the stony glares causing your stomach to flip.

"acting cute won't get out out of this one älska. the truth! now." frido warned sternly as you sighed, catching a few of the younger girls watching on curiously, but they all scattered as alexia met them with a hard stare.

"i got it on monday." you answered, looking down at the ground and pulling one knee to your chest, picking at your laces. "where?" alexia asked sharply. "a hair salon." you shrugged still refusing to look up but feeling their eyes burn into you.

"why?" ingrid questioned next. "looks cool and i can." you mumbled with a roll of your eyes. "don't you roll your eyes, drop the attitude." alexia warned as you huffed and mocked her quietly under your breath, whining as her hand smacked the back of your head.

"that hurt!" you rubbed it with a scowl as she now rolled her own eyes. "cannot have hurt more than putting a needle through your face pequeña." irene added on with a scoff as you fell silent again.

"i think it looks badass pollito." pina piped up from a few seats down, paling at the looks it earned her and hurrying over to hide behind patri.

"sí i agree, makes her look tough. which is hard with this cute little baby face!" mapi cooed as she appeared now, pinching your cheeks and admiring the small stud with a nod of approval that had you grinning.

"maría! stay out of it." alexia barked as the girl rolled her eyes, one of the few who wasn't scared (most times) of your fierce captain. "why? she is sixteen now. i had ear piercings at five!" mapi brushed off the issue ignoring her girlfriends eyes baring into her.

"ear sí, not face!" alexia scoffed crossing her arms across her chest. "its not like i got a forehead piercing, so dramatic." you muttered, shrinking and shuffling across a little closer to mapi at the glares which met it

"would you like to say that a little louder?" ingrid sent you a challenging look as her girlfriend wrapped an arm around you. "leave the nena be, it is one little stud. relajarse!" mapi waved them off again.

"who took you to get it nena? you do not drive." paños asked firmly as you couldn't help but let your eyes flicker briefly to jana and bruna who were frantically shaking their heads and waving their arms about. "deny, deny, deny!" jana mouthed at you.

but all it took was that brief millisecond for irene's head to snap around, catching both younger girls in the act as they froze. "you went shopping with the idiotas on monday!" alexia realised as now her head snapped around.

"we didn't know she was gonna do it we took our eyes off her for like a minute and she came back with it! promesa!" bruna blurted out as jana winced and smacked her hand against her forehead.

"you are the worst secret keeper ever!" jana hissed, both of them sprinting off as paños and irene chased after them. "you are taking it out älska." frido stated bluntly as you frowned. "no way!" you protested with a shake of your head.

"yes way. we can do this the easy way or the hard way älska, your choice." the swede warned as alexia and ingrid hummed their agreement and seeing them start to advice mapi's arm left you and she slid slowly away.

"mapi!" you gasped as she darted away. "traitor and a coward!" you yelled after her as she made a heart with her hands and hid behind lucy who rolled her eyes and pushed her away.

"easy or hard nena, choose." alexia warned firmly as you shook your head. "its not coming out, i paid for this!" you decided firmly, standing and holding your head high, hearing a few of the other girls whistle and shake their heads at your words.

"you get her legs, i get her arms, ale takes it out." frido instructed, all three girls nodding as you attempted a getaway, trying to climb up and over the small retaining wall of your cubby but being promptly dragged back down and restrained.

"did you even wash your hands! this is unsanitary alexia i could get an infection!" you yelled trying to squirm away but with no luck as alexia held your head still with one hand and you winced as with one little twist she'd plucked the stud from your nose.

"when we get home i'm searching your room for any other studs and they are being flushed down the toilet. get your bag!" alexia warned as you kicked away ingrid and frido with a scowl. "you're both on my list." you warned seriously, cata and salma oooohing at your words.

"you don't scare us liten." ingrid laughed unbothered, frido mirroring her expression with a smirk. "remember when mario lost an eyebrow? she was on my list." you spoke calmly, packing your belongings up.

"or when pina's cubby had that awful ant infestion? or patris car tyres kept magically deflating? also on my list." you slung your bag over your shoulder, smiling at the somewhat apprehensive looks now present on the tall scandis face.

"adios, traitors." you patted their shoulders as you passed, following after alexia. "pollito are we still on for-" mapi fell silent as your head whipped toward her. "you are also on the list, maría." you warned calmly, narrowing your eyes.

"i helped you create that list!" mapi gasped in disbelief. "sí, and now the student has become the master." you pointed at her menacingly, alexia growing impatient and grabbing you by the straps of your bag hauling you out of the change room.

"vamos pequeña, stop threatening everyone." alexia chuckled dragging you out with her to the carpark as you waved goodbye to a few of the staff, the older girl amused at how quickly your demeanor changed.

"they were not threats, they were promises." you huffed with a deep frown, kicking at a rock. "are you going to be moody and pouty all afternoon over a tiny little stud? estúpida." alexia cooed as you glared at her, sliding into the now unlocked cupra and tossing your bag in the back.

"do you want to be on the list ale?" you warned, shrinking at the fierce glare which it rewarded you with. "discúlpame?" the blonde asked scarily calm with a raised eyebrow. "nothing, lo siento." you mumbled sinking into her seat as she smirked and started up the car.

"buena nena, thats what i thought you said."

#woso community #woso #barca femeni #barca femini x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #fcb femení #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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am-i-interrupting · 2 months

Text

Baby Shark | Vox x OATSH Reader

No prior knowledge of the series required other than reader is an overlord & Vox is new to Hell.

Summary: Vox has plans, big plans, that he finally tells you. Of course, this is only after he procured a hammerhead pup.

You were curious, intrigued by what Vox had in store. All you’d gotten was a slightly cryptic phone call where he’d sounded nearly giddy, promising a surprise. If you’d meet him at his home.

You waited outside the building. Vox’s home currently wasn’t too luxurious. It was rather simple but nice. He was doing well for someone who’d only been in Hell for seven years.

He’d gone up rather quickly. He started as a commercial actor. Then he’d gotten bumped up to doing guest star roles in shows. Now he was a night show host, just like he’d been in life.

You knew he was working on things. Things he wasn’t exactly telling you. He would let you read documents over his shoulder as he worked on them in his office but would never answer your questions when you asked. He would claim that you’d figure out soon enough.

Maybe this was one of those things.

He pulled up in front of the house in an electric blue thunderbird. He got out of the car and spun around as the door closed, a big grin on his face.

“You are not ready for this,” he said as he went to the passenger side.

“What is it?” you asked as you moved behind him but he turned you around.

“Go inside,” he said. “I’ll follow you in a moment.”

Your smiled at him, a bit bemused by his behavior. It was a truly rare thing to see him look and act so excited. Still, you followed his request and pulled out your copy of his key.

Going inside you were immediately confused. There was an empty aquarium against the wall which hadn’t been there before.

What exactly was he doing?

He didn’t give you long to ponder as he came inside with a basket. It was filled with blankets. Wet blankets.

He closed the door with his foot but he didn’t let it slam like he normally would. Instead it clicked softly.

He leaned the basket so it tilted towards you. “He fell asleep on the car ride,” Vox said.

You looked down in the basket and put your hands over your mouth to stop any noise from coming out. “You got a pet shark?”

His smile expanded.

“Where are you putting it?”

“In the aquarium,” he said with a motion to the new addition.

“It’s gonna get big, Vox.”

“I know, but I’ve been doing the calculations,” he said as he gently placed the basket on his coffee table. “I also have a plan. At the rate I’m currently going though, it’s only a matter of time before I can climb the ranks to be if not as high as you then almost.

“I’ve managed to get several contracted souls—“

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“—and I am currently working on pitching several movie adaptations of your books. I hope you don’t mind that I forged your signature. Getting those green lit will bring eyes on not just you but the up and coming director who you allowed to adapt your books to film. Therefore it’ll bring eyes to other works of mine and by proxy myself. Bringing in more people who are likely to be interested in a contract for certain benefits.”

“You’ve been forging my signature?”

“Unimportant.”

“You are aware you could have just asked. Why didn’t you tell me any of this? These are big things, Vox.”

“I just wanted to surprise you,” he said.

The silent “impress you” was left just that, silent and unspoken.

You shook your head as you walked closer to him. “Well, you’ve certainly succeeded,” you told him.

You grabbed onto his jacket lapels and pulled him down into a kiss. He wrapped his hands around your waist. He tugged you closer.

A tiny little yawn sounding through the air broke your embrace. You looked down at the pup. It stretched out on the wet blankets. You acted on impulse and ran your finger down it’s smooth torso. It sniffed your hand.

“And how exactly do you expect to have the space for a fully grown shark?” you asked. “Maybe it’s a land shark but they still need a lot of water.”

“I’ve been plotting some ideas,” he said. “There is an overlord or two on that darling little list of yours, isn’t there?”

You thought of your list. Your list of people who toed the line of your moral code. There was an overlord on the list. Not yet bad enough to eliminate but getting there.

“Perhaps.”

“Why don’t you let me take care of that one, hm?”

You looked back at Vox. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“And I don’t plan on it.”

It was Vox’s turn to reach out and pet the pup. He scooped it up and looked at it with awe covering his features. He had always loved sharks.

“His name is Vark,” he said as he placed the pup on a rock that sat above the water level.

Immediately though he dove underneath the water and began stretching his fins.

“Vark,” you repeated. “As in shark or bark?”

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #one author two show hosts

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seresinhangmanjake · 2 years

Text

More Than What We Are

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: You and Jake are friends with benefits, and you have one rule: No feelings! Jake decides that rule doesn’t work for him anymore.

Warnings/notes: 18+ angsty, sort of fluffy, happier ending, sexual references, almost smut, cursing, love confessions, emotional denial before acceptance. You know when you read something so much you start to hate it? Well folks, here it is. I reread this so much and I can still guarantee there will be mistakes. I tried not to make it too long.

Words: 2890

His arms were tight, wrapping you up like a cocoon, your back against the chest that caged his thumping heart. You could feel it beat strongly, lively through the layers of clothing.

Breath was hot on your neck, teeth making little nibbles, tongue giving slow, short, licks that turned into thin, wet trails.

Surely if you could feel the pace of his heart, he could sense the aftershock of the tingles he forced up your spine from his continuous tasting of your skin.

You giggled when he finally met that sensitive spot below your ear. More tingles followed that affected each nerve ending and extended through to your fingers until the tips felt numb. Your elbow instinctively bent, hand reaching to the back of his head to hold him and keep his mouth from releasing you. Vibrations from his moan danced from his throat to yours where he sucked hard.

“I’m not going to be able to find my key,” you choked out between his bites and kisses, “if you’re distracting me.”

“That’s a shame,” he whispered against your skin, hands moving down, fingers slipping into the front of your jeans. “Guess we’ll have to fuck out here.”

That sobered you.

Your eyes snapped open.

“On my front porch? I don’t think so,” you said firmly. You lowered your hand to smack at the wrist that was starting to fiddle with the button securing the denim around your hips.

He snickered. “No hitting.”

And though you didn’t turn your head to catch a glimpse, you knew that signature smirk—the one that was so sinfully arousing it practically made your jaw fall open when you first met—was plastered on his handsome face.

“Be a good girl or you won’t get what you want,” he nipped at your earlobe, “and then you’ll have to beg for it.”

By his forearm you pulled his hand from your pants and twisted to face him. His arms circled your waist again, encasing you within the heat of his body. He squeezed your ass, holding you still as you had done so he could create the friction that hardened him within his own pair of jeans.

Impressively, your eyebrow managed to raise in question, despite your thoughts being ripped away from caring for anything other than how thick he was against you.

You’d slept together before, so many times you lost count, and you already knew how perfect he was under his clothes; how frustratingly flawless. Knowing that was the only thing keeping you from staring at the outline of his cock. If you looked now, you’d fall on your knees before you had the proper brain functioning to stop yourself, to drag his zipper down and take as much of his length into your mouth as you could.

But that would mean he’d win for the night, and you couldn’t have that. You loved seeing who would be the first to lower themselves before the other. Not that you kept count, but there was a competitive edge between you. A competitiveness that had tripped you both into bed after three drinks at the Hard Deck surrounded by your friends and some thrown comments about who could get who to cum harder. The unprompted hypothetical argument very quickly bled into reality, and you’d found yourself drunk more from the feel of him inside you than from the alcohol.

Neither of you knew for sure who won that first night, so you decided the only fair way was to call it a tie.

You held your risen eyebrow in challenge. “Oh, I won’t get what I want?”

You let your purse fall to the wooden flooring of the porch. Your palms forged a path upwards from his stomach to his shoulders, feeling every valley and hill that defined the muscles that stiffened and clenched under your touch.

“Jake,” you tsked, “I think we both know that of the two of us, you are more likely to do the begging.”

“Is that so?”

You loved that look on his face; the playful one that he never seemed to show anyone else. It held a million promises of your pleasure. Promises that he always fulfilled as if his life depended on doing so.

“It is,” you said, walking your fingers up the length of his neck, along that throbbing vein. “See, I may like your cock, Jake, but you are in love with my pussy—”

His grin widened as you spoke, green eyes flaming with adoration.

“—I don’t think you could deny me what I wanted if you tried.”

He continued to stare, the curve of his lips never faltering, arms not even slightly loosening, even as you struggled to reach down for your purse to attempt the hunt for your house key once again.

“Am I wrong?” you asked when you realized he still hadn’t spoken.

He shook his head slowly. “You’re never wrong, Y/N.”

You would have reveled in his admittance had you not clasped your fingers around your keys in the same moment. Relief flooded you. Not finding them would have likely had its repercussions come morning, since Jake would undoubtedly wear you down until he was rutting into you at a torturous pace against your front door for all the world to see. Darkness in the sky or not, you had some nosy neighbors that had no issue peering out windows and holding grudges.

A satisfying click sounded after you slipped the key into the lock, and the door was open in record time, your bodies fumbling to get on the inner side of it. Jake slammed it closed with the arm not around your waist as you tossed your purse somewhere to your right. It thudded against…something, but you didn’t care what. His lips were on yours; that was all that mattered.

He was so fucking delicious. Tongue like silk as it played with yours. So good. He tastes so, so good. Unlike anyone else you’d been with, Jake had his own taste, his own scent, his own way of touching you, that worked so perfectly well together to drown out everything else around you. He had the power to encase you in a bubble along with him. A bubble that kicked away the care of time and space and the existence of others.

He licked along your bottom lip; tangled his hands through the mess of your hair. You whimpered. So good.

You only broke your kiss to rid one another of your shirts, then your mouths were glued again, your fingers unbuckling his belt as you stepped backwards and pulled him along until your bottom hit the edge of your kitchen table.

“You weren’t wrong,” he got out when you took a second to breathe, though those breaths where heavy. His chest was heaving, and his hands cupped your face. “You did miss one detail though.”

“Oh, yea?” You snorted, doing your best to shimmy out of your jeans.

“I’m in love with more than just your pussy.”

You froze just as you kicked your pants to the side. The blood began rushing so fast the clarity of your hearing was starting to fail you. Repetitive pumps filled your ears; the only indication of promises that you were still alive.

“I’m in love with all of you,” he said, foggy words fighting their way through a layer of fuzziness. “So no, Y/N, I would never deny you anything.”

You swallowed. You could hear that swallow. You could feel it strain your throat, almost painfully so. What was he doing? Why was he doing it?

“But…” But, what? you thought. “But we agreed,” you said, finally meeting his eyes, “No feelings.”

“Yea,” he drew out the syllable, “sorry, honey, but that agreement didn’t end up working out for me.”

“Jake that’s…” You tried to step out of that bubble. Tried and failed. He wouldn’t budge. “You’re not supposed to be in love with me. That’s not how this works.”

He chuckled.

God, how many times had you heard that chuckle? How many times had it brought you peace, or a smile to your face on a day when you needed it. And now it was so wrong. So wrong…and he didn’t even know it. He wasn’t getting it. He didn’t understand.

“Believe me—” he chuckled again.

Stop it!

“—I’m well aware of the shit situation I got myself into,” he said. “It wasn’t exactly the plan, but it’s ok because I—"

“I don’t feel the same.”

Those words did more than interrupt whatever he was planning to say; They seemed to cut off his oxygen supply entirely. His mouth closed, but then it opened again, he paused, and it closed again as his brows pinched.

“Y/N—”

“I don’t!”

An invisible force shoved him away from you with the ferocity of your tone. His lower back met the kitchen counter. “Um,” he ran his hand through his hair as he shook his head. He crossed his arms over his bare chest; looked at the tiled floor. “O-Ok.”

His belt buckle hung down. It clanked against the undone button and zipper, further weighing the flap open to better reveal the band of his underwear and the trail of hair that disappeared into it. Your fingers itched to touch, but you knew you couldn’t now. The bubble was gone. It was gone because you stabbed a needle into it, and now the world was around you again.

“Well, this is obviously over,” you said.

His head snapped up. “What?”

“We have to stop seeing each other.”

“Why?”

Your hands covered your face, slowly rubbing up and down as if to wash away your expression. You didn’t have to see your reflection in the mirror to know that you looked pained, but you couldn’t stop yourself from what you were doing.

Palms falling to your sides, you said, “Because we have to if you’re going to have these feelings. It shouldn’t be much of a problem. It’s not like we crossed paths before we started doing this, and had it not been for Bradley and Nat we wouldn’t have met at all, so…”

A part of him must have thought you were joking because it wasn’t until your last words that he stood straight as a rod, arms dropping to his sides. “What, are you just going to disappear from my life? Cut off all communication?”

His eyes as they searched yours begged you to be playing a game. A stupid game. One he would mischievously scold you for in the form of a few hard slaps to your ass once you surrendered to understanding just how little humor he found in it. But you weren’t playing, and each second of silence was solidifying that.

“You can’t be serious,” he said. A demand or a plea, you couldn’t tell. He made quick steps your way and took your hands in his. “Y/N, you can’t do this to me.”

“Jake, I—”

“Baby, please.”

“I…” You sucked in a sharp breath. You didn’t know what you were doing, why you were fighting, but you’d done it now and you couldn’t take it back. “I need you to leave.”

-----

For the first time in your life, you hated sleep. Being awake meant being at work, getting things done. There were responsibilities, routines, practices that you could throw yourself into to distract your brain from the memory of that night. You had to get up, brush your teeth, shower, dress, eat, focus. But when asleep, you had no control over your body or mind, and apparently your mind decided to lash out.

It was the tone of his voice that infiltrated your dreams, twisting them into nightmares, night after night that made up a full week.

Baby, please.

Those two words each sunk their teeth into the halves of your heart and ripped it straight down the middle.

Baby, please. Baby, please. Baby, please.

Over and over and over in your unconscious until a night came when you woke and screamed for him to shut up. But he wasn’t there to hear you. He wasn’t there because you turned him away.

He would be in your bed now if he could be. You knew he’d stay in it forever if you let him. And something in you, somewhere deep, could have guessed this long before he spoke the three words that confirmed it.

Unrightfully so, it swelled an anger in your gut. A knot grew tight in your chest as you sat up in your bed. You didn’t even notice yourself grinding your front teeth with your lip between them.

You couldn’t take it.

-----

“Why did you have to say you love me, huh?”

Jake heard the furious question before he was able to register that it was you standing in front of him, shivering in your sleep clothes at two in the morning as tears crafted rivers down your reddened cheeks.

“Why?” You took a step forward and shoved at his chest. “Why now?”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside the darkened apartment, shutting the door behind you, then he quickly yanked his Navy hoodie over his head and tugged it down your body. “What are you doing here?”

“Answer my question first,” you snapped as you slipped your arms through the sleeves. “Why. Now?”

“Technically, I’ve said it before,” he replied. “You’ve just been asleep.”

He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d spoken it aloud, but he’d never felt ashamed in doing so, despite being well aware of the possibility of you not handling it well if he told you. You proven him right on that front. But of every scenario he came up with, you kicking him out of your life hadn’t entered his mind once.

“You can’t just go around dropping bombs whenever you want, Jake,” you yelled, the intensity of the sound drowning out the noise of the television in the next room. “We drew that line when we started sleeping together and I had to figure out how to stay on my side of it, but now for some reason you can’t do the same? That’s not fair!”

“I’m not going to keep something like that to myself forever for the sake of an imaginary line we drew months ago!”

“Why the hell not? I’ve had to!”

Your mouth snapped shut.

A beat passed. And every miserable thought Jake had halted in that moment. The horrible feelings that had been eating him alive for a week dissipated, replaced by the blooming of hope in his chest.

“You’ve had to?” he asked. His eyes narrowed as he carefully observed your face, searching for the slightest tick or twitch of dishonesty.

You groaned and mumbled, “Forget it,” as you turned away with a shake of your head. But he grabbed onto your hand and twisted your body back to his before you could stray too far.

“Absolutely not. What do you mean, you’ve had to?”

“Nothing.” Your eyes avoided the laser-focus of his stare.

“You love me?”

You looked down to your hands as you fiddled with your fingernail. “I didn’t say that.”

“That’s what it sounded like.”

Crooking a finger under your chin, he lifted your face until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. And he saw it all. All the vulnerability was right there, stripped bare and real before him; so close to the surface he thought maybe he could reach out and touch it as if it was of solid form.

It was shock as it dawned on him, pure shock mixed with the realization that he had missed it when it was right in front of him. He’d have stumbled back a step had his legs the ability to move properly, but he stayed rooted in place. “You love me,” he said.

“I know, alright,” you hissed a tad too harshly. A long second weighed heavily between you. You sighed, rubbed at your brow, then muttered, “I know I do.”

He wanted to know how long. The thought immediately rushed to his mind, a slight twinge of anger behind it. How long had you been stubborn in admitting it to yourself? How long had you been keeping it a secret from him? You’d had him hooked for what felt like a lifetime, but then again, maybe it didn’t matter how long you had felt the same so long as you did.

Large hands cupped your cheeks and he pulled you into a kiss. His mouth was pressed hard against yours, branding you with the imprint of his lips. “Don’t lie to me about how you feel ever again,” he growled when you separated, but he knew he failed to disguise the desperation behind his tone, “Ever. I mean it.”

Your lips curved upwards, and an exhausted laugh left your mouth in the form of a thick puff of air. “You just going to yell at me all night now?”

“No, I’m not going to yell at you. I’m going to fuck you,” he said, thumbs stroking back and forth along your cheekbones. He kissed you again, soft, sweetly this time. “And then you’re going to explain to me what the hell you were thinking when you decided to leave me with a broken heart for an entire week.”

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Text

Bride and Joy

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, interrogation, dirty talk, name-calling, rough sex, creampie, table sex, oral fingering, cnc roleplay, roleplay, dark Mycroft Holmes

Word count: 2k

Kinktober Day 8: Breeding Kink

A/N: Mycroft seems like one of these people who would be extremely possessive of his lover so that's the angle I'm taking here. I'm glad to see people requesting all the pretty Yuumori men for kinktober.

You already knew it was all over for you. You got caught, detained and placed within an interrogation cell waiting for who ever the set on you. Betraying the Queen is no small crime after all.

The room door opened and a tall man in a black suit and a cigar walked in. You knew him to be Mycroft Holmes, one of the Queens best and most trusted men. And the most ruthless.

"Well you got yourself in quite a bind there haven't you little missy?" He took a drag of his cigar as he walked to where you sat and placed the file on the table in front of you, exhaling the smoke as he did so. "Stealing documents, forging signatures, weapon smuggling and a plot against the Royal family. You've been quite busy haven't you?"

You narrowed your eyes and clenched your fists, "If you know all of that already then why am I here? You've got your evidence, why not charge me with treason and be done with it?"

Mycroft chuckled, closing the file and tapping his index finger on it, "That's certainly an option." He took another drag before he put the cigarette out, "But we could use someone of your talents. Of course you'd still be under our surveillance but you'd still be a free woman. In some ways at least. I haven't spoken to her Majesty yet but I'm certain she would agree. I only need you to say yes to marrying me."

He looked at you like it was the most obvious solution to your problem. You on the other hand looked at him like he had just lost his mind. "Excuse me? Why would I do such a thing?" You felt his gaze sharpen as a blush spread across your face.

"No one would ever agree to let you roam free without supervision. I'm afraid not even I could negotiate that. But if I were to take you as my wife, well it would grant you a certain favor and immunity as a spy." He walked around the small table and grabbed your chin, his eyes staring into yours, "Surely you're aware of how beautiful you are. You would make a fine wife. And..." His fingers trail lightly across your throat and across your side, making you shiver, "A fine mother I'm sure."

His smile widened as his fingers started to skim the edge of your shirt, giving the barest hint of touch on your thigh. You gulped under his gaze, feeling like an a small animal looking at their predator. Both fear and adrenaline rush though you as you stammer out, "W-What? But I'm... I don't think this is a good idea."

"No? Any why not? You get a pardon, you get to keep your job, you get a nice husband. I promise to treat you right and love you for as long as we're together." Although his word was meant to be comforting you could sense a darkness behind them. "I will make you feel so good. Just give yourself to me my sweet."

A high gasp tore from your throat when you felt his fingers rubbing you through your panties.

"H-Hold on. This isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this. I don't even know you." His eyes softened for a moment, his lips closing in on yours.

"Oh you will. We'll get very familiar with each other." Mycroft pushed his lips against yours, they were softer than you expected but his tongue was quick to remind of you how rough he could be, pushing past your lips, swallowing your little soft moan and brushing against your tongue. "You're getting wet already. Are you sure you don't want me?"

"You're my enemy. I shouldn't..." Hi moved your panties to the side and moved two fingers up and down in a slow manner, spreading the wetness evenly before pushing them both inside with no warning. You screamed at the intrusion and buried your head in his chest to muffle your moans, fisting your hands into his suit, "God." You whimpered and shifted in your seat as he moved his fingers in and out, taking them out all the way to the tip and then burring them all the way to the end.

"You're beginning to loosen up. If you're already this wet I can't even imagine what you're gonna feel like around my cock." He took your hand in his placed it over his bulge. The cock throbbed under your touch, warm even though the material of his pants, "See how hard I am already? That's all for you. All for this cunt."

Upon hearing the possessive growl in his voice you couldn't help but spread your legs. He paused for just a moment and then laughed.

"Well would you look at that. Little whore wants it now does she? That didn't take long. You need to make it for fun for me miss." He slid his fingers out, pulling your panties off in the process. "Start by cleaning these for me."

He offers you his fingers, still looking rough even while covered in your juices. When you didn't immediately go for his fingers you heard him scoff next to your ear as he pushed them against your lips, "I told you to suck. You need to follow my orders to the letter if you want this to work out for you." You let out a whimper as you open your mouth for him, allowing him to slide his fingers in and fuck your throat, "Good girl. You'll learn fast don't worry. I'll make you into my little cockslut before you know it."

You moaned around his fingers at his words, a fresh flood of wetness gathering below as you start bucking your hips forward, clouding your senses, "Please, I can't..."

"Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Tell me you're a horny slut who wants to be breed. Say it." He was very rough when taking his fingers out and grabbing your chin with his still wet hands, "Well?"

It was embarrassing how easily you were being broken by him. How easily he managed to get to you just by using his words and fingers. How badly you wanted it. Wanted him. "I'm a horny slut... who wants to be breed." Mycroft grinned, wide and pleased at your confession.

"Interesting. I wasn't being serious with that one but it's nice to hear you admit to it." Another blush spread across your face and down you neck, "Well how can I refuse my future wife." He gave you a brief kiss, humming at your the lingering taste on your tongue. He chuckled as he tapped your cheek lightly and turned to give you some room. You could hear him unbuckling his belt. "Why don't you bend over and present for me, I want a good look at you."

You gulped in anticipation as you stood up on shaky legs, your slick running down your thighs and dripping onto the floor. You felt like you're in heat, ready to be taken and fucked. That feeling only intensified when Mycroft turned around and lets you see his hard dick, standing tall between his legs with his hand at the base. Your cunt pulsed with need to be filled and stretched open by it. Maybe you were just a bitch in heat after all.

And like a good bitch you presented yourself for him, bending over the edge of the table and hiking up your shirt, revealing your cunt and your ass. But not before getting a glimpse of his muscular body as he undid his bowtie and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

"What a lovely sight you are. So ready for me." You hear his footsteps approaching followed quickly by his hand smoothing over your left ass cheek before gripping your hip in a tight, sure to bruise grip. "Are you ready for my cock?"

"Yes." You breathed out, even catching yourself off guard with how needy and breathless you sounded.

"And have you earned it? Do you promise to be a good whore for me whenever I ask? To get on your knees and suck my cock at the snap of my fingers." He leaned over to snap them next to your ear as the tip of his cock nudged at your opening.

"I promise. I'll be good. I'll be so good." Mycroft laughed at your eagerness, pushing his fingers into your mouth as he tilted your head a little for easier access. "Fuck. Fuck me. Please, please, please." You could barely talk with your mouth sucking on his fingers but you wanted it so much that you don't care how desperate you were.

When he finally does slide in you don't care that this was supposed to be an interrogation, that he's your enemy, that he basically blackmailed you into marrying him, all you care about his how his cock fills you up over and over.

"You take me so nicely. You were made for me weren't you. Just for me and my cock. I'll fuck you every day I can promise you that, breed you like you need to be bred. You're gonna look so pretty when you're full of my cum you little slut. My pretty cumslut." He thrust his hips into yours, his fingers playing in your mouth, dragging them over the flat of your tongue.

You whimpered and moaned for him, bucking your hips backwards, your wet cunt clenching around his throbbing dick, making him hum and go harder and faster at every jolt of his hips. The room was filled with wet, needy, lewd sounds of him fucking two of your holes at the same time, your moans muffled but still very audible.

He was ruthless in his pace, shoving his cock as deep as it could go, dragging along your front wall every time he pulled out. You were starting to get dizzy with pleasure, your cunt so full yet so empty. You needed more. You needed him to fill you up properly.

"Please come. Please. Fill me up." You struggled to talk around his fingers, your words barely coherent.

"What ever you say sweetheart." He was so amused by the state he's brought you to that he decided to have mercy and give you want you wanted, "But you're gonna have to come first." He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and once again places them next to your ear, "Ready?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice. You heard his fingers snap next to your ear, and something snapped inside you as well, a flood heat rushing though you as you bucked your hips wildly and came all over his cock.

"Good slut. So good for me. So damn good." In one last, hard thrust he buried his dick deep inside of you and flooded your womb with his cum, his hips twitching as he groans through his release, your name falling from his lips as he leans over you. You both took deep breaths to relax your bodies and let the combined pleasure flow through you, "Did you enjoy that my love?"

"Fuck Mycroft. I mean just... holy shit." You breathed out hard at which he lets out a slow chuckle.

"That good I see. I'm glad. Thank you for indulging me in this. And for the suggestion to roleplay. I bet it would have been fun to break you." His lips skimmed the area of your neck, pressing slow kisses as you relax under him, "Do you want to stay like this a little? And don't worry about anyone walking in on us. I made sure we have more than enough time. Maybe even for a round two if you feel like it."

"Hell yes." You squeezed around him as he pulled you back against his chest and took a seat on the chair, his cock comfortably snug inside of you, keeping most of his cum inside. "How about we try for a round three after we get home?"

He laughed loud against your neck, "Are you taking the roleplay seriously? You don't actually need to take my cock all the time."

"No. But what if I want to?" You rolled and pushed your hips downward, feeling him twitch inside you.

"Then who am I to say no to my wife." With a soft touch he turned your head towards him to give you the sweetest kiss of the day, but not the last.

#yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #yuumori x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes imagine #yuumori fanfic #yuumori smut #kinktober

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fenricken · 6 months

Text

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 1/7

Ao3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

Summary:

Danny has been getting the hang of this whole “Ancient of Doors”, “Apprentice to Clockwork”, “Dad to the Chaos Gremlin Dani” thing, and he’s really starting to find his flow! Sure, he sometimes misses the life that could’ve been, but overall everything has been great! Sure doesn’t need anything throwing a tangle in things.

Bruce is suffering. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or what the hell is going on. All he’s running on is instinct and strange forces propelling him towards some end he’s not entirely certain of.

Basically, Danny tries to help Batman over the course of events covered in Batman:Return of Bruce Wayne

Chapter One:

“Clockwork? Are you here? I got your message.” Danny floated up the tower, peeking behind cogs and pendulums, hoping to find a glimpse of his teacher’s signature purple cloak.

It had been a long time since certain… events had led Danny to become a far more permanent resident of the Infinite Realms. Of course, he wasn’t alone, as much of Amity had also followed him here to carve out a new life all together, his friends and family included.

Danny had since reached maturity and been recognized as Ancient of Doors for his actions. When faced with his evil future self, he strove to find another path where he didn’t become that future self. When Dani was revealed to be with the enemy, he chose to love her still, rather than hate her as many would. When he was faced with a reality where he was famous, and accepted by his parents, he chose to undo all of that for the peace and safety of his friends and family. While he now knew his parent’s acceptance would always come, he still had to make the choice then to put his trust in them and reveal himself so his friends could be saved when the GIW came to destroy Amity Park. And so, for his commitment to forging new paths, always finding another choice, and braving the unknown he was named Ancient of Doors.

Sam had also found her own mentor in Undergrowth, working hard as his apprentice to aid him in his duties as Ancient of Wild Growth. Tucker and Technus had quickly formed a rivalry, both competing to see who would reign supreme as the Infinite Realm’s ultimate tech master. Jazz had found her purpose in the Department of Lost Souls, as an advisor to those who weren’t certain about their afterlife, and what they wanted to do with it. After Jack and Maddie’s change of heart with regards to ghosts, it was not long before they found new purpose in investigating and researching the many mysteries of the Infinite Realms and beyond.

While he and his friends had reached their own maturity, Dani had remained a child. Something about “It’s easier to cause chaos this way” and “No one ever suspects the baby”. Danny’s fondness for his clone only grew until he saw her less as a cousin and more as a daughter. Ultimately, it was only a surprise for Danny and Dani when the ghost-bond snapped in place, formally cementing her as his daughter, to both of their suffering.

Currently, she was out in one of the universes, chasing after some hybrid spider-pig, Danny thinks. Unless she got distracted and went to hang out with Klarion again, in an effort to “maximize joint chaos”. Tucker and Sam were both busy with their respective duties, Jazz was at work, and last he checked Mom and Dad were elbows deep in a mech suit they were hoping to get working off an Infinite Realms Corn-based fuel Sam had created. Danny had been feeling quite bored before he got the summons from Clockwork, and had jumped on it right away, hence his surprise at not being able to find his Mentor anywhere.

Danny had finally reached the top of the tower. He could see a table set up with a small tea service, but still no Clockwork. Figuring there’s nothing else to do, Danny pours himself a cup of tea, and settles in to wait.

—

Who is he? What is this place? His hand rests against a cool, smooth surface that appears so at odds with the rest of his surroundings-rocky ground, a red sky, and the water lapping against the cliff-side. There is nothing, and no one else that he sees, except – a cave. He stumbles in, visions of symbols surfacing in his brain- two “W”s, an “S”, a bat. He carves these into the rock-face desperate to have a visual trigger that would help him remember anything, but nothing comes.

A rock clatters against the floor of the cave, followed by someone’s voice. He approaches, steadily, entering into the light. Four men stand before him, weapons raised. They say something else, but he can’t understand.

“Where am I? What is this place?”

They do not answer him, but pull back their weapons. They introduce themselves, and speak some more. Names, he realizes- Man, Boy, Giant, Surly, Joker. This last one gives him pause, tickles something in his brain that upsets him, but soon his eyes lay on the structure from before, and he stumbles back to it, certain it must contain some clue.

The men he walks past continue to converse amongst themselves, but he has only one destination in mind. He digs through, looking for anything, but comes up only with a large swath of fabric. That same “S”, that calls to him but gives no answers.

The men set up camp, cooking as they go. They invite him to join, and he does, his hunger for food now outweighing his hunger for knowledge.

—

“Danny, I’m glad you came as soon as you could.”

Danny’s teacup clatters as he jolts in surprise. He turns to face Clockwork, “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself. What did you need my help with?”

Clockwork’s face turns a bit grim. “There is… something twisted in the time stream in one of the Justice League universes. While I can tell it is meant to happen, I am still uncertain about what is actually happening, and fear that I am unable to see with any certainty the outcome. I need you to venture to when this is to investigate on my behalf.”

Danny nods, his concern growing. “Of course. Is there anything in particular I should be prepared for?”

Danny swears he sees the corner of Clockwork’s mouth twitch up into his signature sly grin, before his face is quickly schooled and he says “No, just observe for now. Your destination is through here.”

Danny watches as the cog begins to glow before he ventures forward.

Immediately he is met with the sight of violence. It seems one group of cavemen has taken to attacking another during their dinner. Danny watches, cautious against intervening, trying to figure out who he is meant to watch for. He sees one man, dressed in black bottoms, escape the field of battle with a young boy and hide in the bushes. The battle quickly turns against the four who had been eating dinner, and Danny looks at the leader of those attacking, surprised that the leader’s face is familiar to him…though he can’t quite place who.

The man from before rejoins the fray, quickly beating many off before ultimately being subdued himself. The leader of the attacking cavemen crows in victory, before the army collects the man they’ve now taken prisoner and any other spoils, and returns to their home base.

Danny follows, trying hard not to focus on the bloodshed beneath. He may have lived a long time, but the kind of person willing to commit such violence is not someone he goes out of his way to find. He watches as the chief holds the man they took captive above his head.

“Conquering Chief Savage brings gifts from the forbidden land!”

“Shit,” Danny thinks, “I can’t believe I’m witnessing Vandal Savage’s villain origin story. Or is he already a villain at this point?”

Danny continues watching as they tie up the captive, who they’ve been calling ‘Man-God’ underneath a giant bat pelt. He takes a closer look, before reeling back in shock.

“I thought his pants were weird, but those are pretty 21st century” he thinks, before glancing around at hearing a shuffle. He sees a shadow lurking beyond the camp, crouched down. Danny approaches, recognizing the boy that had been rescued from the fight. He wears what looks like a yellow utility belt, and has painted a bat-shaped mask over his eyes.

“Wait… bats, a yellow utility belt…” Danny glances again to the Man-God strapped to the ground.

“What is Batman doing here..?” Danny pauses, thinking. He should only be here as an observer, but it has never felt right to just stand on the sidelines when he can make the choice to do something to help. Maybe he doesn’t have to do too much. He floats over to where the Boy is crouched, clearly wanting to help but paralyzed with fear and indecision.

“Go to him. Help him as he has helped you. There has been enough bloodshed this day, will you wait around to see more?” Danny whispers to him, watching the boy’s eyes harden as he comes to a decision.

The boy is quick to act now that he’s made a decision. He approaches Batman, and frees him from his bonds. Danny watches as they collect themselves. Batman dons his utility pelt, and the bat pelt that had been hung over him. By the time they’ve finished their preparations, the sun has risen and the men who captured Batman are rising.

“Should I cause a distraction?” Danny wonders, but before he can do anything, Batman and the boy spring into action, taking out fighter after fighter, until Batman is left facing Vandal Savage.

They charge towards each other, but Danny’s attention is caught by a shadow that begins to pass over the battlefield. He looks up, noting an eclipse is starting. He can feel the energy changing, knows that something is going to happen when the sun has been completely blotted out.

But Clockwork has instructed him only to observe, so observe he will. He turns back to the battlefield, noting that Batman and the boy have managed to push back Vandal Savage, but are still being chased off by the remaining caveman. They drop over a waterfall, but when Danny follows, he only sees the boy surface.

The sky is dark now, as the sun has been completely covered, and there is energy concentrated underneath the water. Danny focuses, in the way Clockwork has taught him, to figure out what lies beneath and where Batman has gone.

“A strong amount of time-manipulation energy…No Batman, not in this time anymore.” Danny looks around to see the boy has realized Batman will not follow, and has left to find shelter.

“Did he make another jump through time? But how? I didn’t see that he had anything on him capable of such a jump?” Danny thinks. He’s considering if he can piggy back off the residual energy to jump to when Batman is, but a portal opens behind him and Clockwork steps out.

“Danny, I think it would be best if we return now.” he says, gesturing for Danny to follow.

—

Back at his mentor’s lair, Danny explains the situation to Clockwork. Clockwork inclined his head in thought, only speaking after some time, “I can’t say for certain whether or not Batman was meant to be in that time period. However, there is something suspicious about the way he’s been traveling through time. Did you notice anything off with the time manipulation energy, Danny?”

“I can’t say for certain,” Danny starts, “Though I did notice there was a build-up to the event, in line with an eclipse. Then again, I’m not familiar enough with the way dimensional energy manipulation feels in the universes with the Justice League to say for certain.”

Clockwork hums, before turning to rifle through a cupboard that popped up behind him. He pulled out a glowing orange orb. “Here, it’s a record of the time-manipulation energy gathered from one of the Flash’s misadventures. Can you compare and feel any difference?”

Danny closes his eyes before focusing again. “I can feel there are some significant similarities, but it feels like both have an added component that is different from each other? I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

“The energy reading from the sphere I handed you will likely contain energy both from the time-manipulation and the Speedforce the Flashes use to travel between time. If we assume the time-manipulation energy is the constant in both samples, then…”

“There’s some other energy added into the mix that is propelling Batman forward through time?” Danny finishes.

“That is likely the case. Until we know what it is, it would be best to exercise caution. We don’t know how it interacts with the time-manipulation energy, so we can’t predict how it might affect you Daniel.” Clockwork pauses in thought once more, “I’ll spend some time figuring out where Batman made his next jump. In the meantime, take a rest and prepare yourself.”

“I’m not totally familiar with the universes containing the Justice League. I’ll spend some time researching for now… and maybe I’ll ask Dani what she knows when she returns.”

Clockwork smiles slightly, before nodding. “A fine course of action, it might be best to gather all the information we can before proceeding.”

A/N:

At the time of plotting this, I haven’t read A Glitch in Time. I know that there are some time periods in common that Danny and Bruce travel to, so I want to address that at this moment I’m not planning to reference A Glitch in Time.

As for actual writing, I feel a bit stuck on how much of Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne to actually reference, as I’m aware that most people in the dp x dc fandom are more familiar with Danny Phantom, and from other references I’ve seen to Batman’s travels through time it might not be a story many are familiar with. That being said, I don’t want to just directly repeat details from the comics. I guess if you feel I didn’t provide enough background from the comic series to understand what’s going on, or that I should maybe try referencing less, please let me know so I can make corrections.

On that note, I do recommend reading Batman:The Return of Bruce Wayne if you get the chance. There are so many interesting layers it adds to the mythos and history of Batman and the Wayne family, and it’s really a great read. It helps that you don’t really need too much knowledge of what comes before– except maybe that Batman had crafted a god-killing bullet he shot Darkseid with, before Darkseid retaliated and “killed” Batman. Even this is alluded to in the story in enough detail that you can understand what’s going on, though.

#dpxdc #spirit halloween ship #batman comic rewrite basically #Stared at this for an 2 hours like “hm one more change”#post already you coward #icarus may have fallen flying too close to the sun #but the sea spray will weigh down your wings if you fly too close to it #Danny being a dad to Dani makes me soft #So I'm putting all of that next chapter >:)#dp x dc crossover

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