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xjoonchildx · 2 months

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kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap.

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames.

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet.

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand.

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on.

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool.

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances.

He’d finished you.

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white.

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters.

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts.

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.”

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face.

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side.

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way.

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.”

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once.

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire.

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth.

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her. She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth.

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for.

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.”

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.”

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles.

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger.

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri.

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers?

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours.

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her.

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks.

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman.

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face.

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she?

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice.

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear?

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes.

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that.

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it.

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again.

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark.

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike.

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel.

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.”

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs.

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire.

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed.

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.”

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown.

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover.

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone.

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him.

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance.

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this.

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation.

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin, watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury.

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration.

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope smut #j-hope x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader

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reidingandwriting · 15 days

Text

Speak Now (Hotch’s Version)

Chapter Two: i can see you

“I could see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission”

Word Count: 2,200 words

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: Criminal Minds level of violence described, definitely Not how solving cases goes but!!, some cursing and some suggestive themes

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: SOOO sorry for the delay in posting! I was at a convention this weekend and my queued post didn’t post for whatever reason :’) Chapter 3 is still scheduled for tomorrow so I hope you enjoy the back to back update!

“We’ve got a case,” JJ said and you stood up from your desk to walk to the conference room. You had only been a part of the BAU for two months or so now, but the novelty had yet to wear off yet. Every time JJ announced a new case, you got a rush. A wave of a familiar cologne enveloped you, and you felt an arm brush against your own.

“Sorry,” Hotch’s voice filled your ears, the single word causing a chill to go down your spine.

“No problem,” Your voice came out quieter than you expected and you internally cursed. Where did you begin with Aaron Hotchner? Ever since you met at the FBI Banquet, he had occupied your mind. Your first day, you were pleased that he remembered you and since then, he’s seemed… not quite distant but not quite friendly with you either. Not like he was at the banquet. He was professional as his reputation said he would be, but you were wishing there was more to your relationship. You wanted to lean into the brushed shoulders, you wanted to initiate contact with him, but you didn’t want to jeopardize anything with him, especially being so new to the team. But you let yourself wonder, what would happen if you acted on your impulses? If you let yourself think about it long enough, you could see him waiting down the hall for you. Ideally pressed against the wall, but you digress. You shook your head slightly to clear your thoughts as you walked into the conference room, and you took your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Alright, my pretties,” Penelope greeted once everyone was seated and you looked up at the screen behind her. “Houston has reached out for our help and this one is a bit of a doozy.” Pictures flashed behind Penelope and you felt your stomach turn a little at the pictures.

“Hello, overkill,” Emily muttered and you hummed in agreement.

“We’ve clearly got a very angry person on our hands. There’s been five victims over the last two weeks, and their kill rate is starting to pick up.” Penelope said.

“They’ve killed men and women, no obvious preference for gender,” JJ said and you nodded.

“Can’t say for certain if they’re victims of opportunity, though,” you said. “I don’t know the exact area they’re acting in, but the victims all seem eerily similar. Hair color, skin color, similar builds… Someone is the object of their aggression but our unsub hasn’t gotten to their target yet.”

“And the kills are getting rushed, more violent,” Derek said.

“Wheels up in twenty,” Hotch said as he started to stand.

“You know,” Spencer started and you glanced over at him, “they look similar to you, Y/N.” The room froze and you felt everyone’s eyes turn to you.

“Don’t even say that about my lovely,” Penelope gasped dramatically and you rolled your eyes playfully at her antics.

“There are some similarities,” Rossi said and you looked up at the pictures.

“Similar features, sure, but I don’t think I’ve done anything to piss off anyone to the point of murder in Houston,” you drawled and the room started to disperse. Hotch stayed in the room, his gaze locked onto you.

“If you feel uncomfortable on this case at any time,” Hotch trailed off and you shook your head.

“I’ll be fine, Hotch. I’m not worried. But I promise, I’ll let you know if I get uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nodded in dismissal and you slipped out of the conference room.

A week later, you held an ice pack to your head where you sat in the back of an ambulance as you waited to be cleared. Turns out, they don’t call Spencer a genius for nothing. You were a perfect victim for your unsub- Officer Josh Hann- and you found yourself ambushed by him a few hours ago. You were lucky to only get away with a concussion and a few bumps and bruises. Derek stood beside you, his phone held to your ear.

“Yes, Pen, I promise I’m fine.”

“And how is our Boss Man doing?” Penelope asked and you barely repressed a cough.

“Fine, Pen.” Said Boss Man was currently a few yards away, his gaze glued to you as Rossi talked to him.

“Sounds like the perfect excuse for him to watch over you,” Penelope teased and you felt your cheeks start to burn.

“Bye, Penelope.” Penelope cackled as she hung up and you rolled your eyes then winced. “Ow.”

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear any of that conversation,” Derek teased and you kicked out at him, and Derek laughed as he narrowly missed your leg.

“You're lucky my vision is still a little off or I would’ve got you,” you huffed. The paramedic chose that moment to clear you and you slowly stood, grabbing onto Derek to steady yourself.

“Easy, pretty thing. Hotch is already glaring at me,” Derek lowered his voice and this time, you made contact when you stomped your foot. “You know Penelope can’t keep her mouth closed after a little wine. You’re lucky it was just me she spilled to.”

“I would resign immediately if he knew. Just throw my badge and gun as far as I could and run,” you said and Derek laughed.

“You know there’s a wager going on when he’ll find out.” Another stomp to Derek’s foot silenced him as Hotch walked over. Derek dismissed himself when Hotch was a few feet away

“Are you ready to go?” Hotch asked and you nodded, only wincing slightly after.

“So ready. I want to sleep so bad,” you admitted and Hotch hummed in response. You both started to walk to the cars, where the rest of the team had started to load up. “Not ready to be woken up every few hours to make sure I’m still coherent. I think a little risk of brain damage is worth the uninterrupted sleep.” You huffed and the corner of Hotch’s lip turned up into a small smile.

“I’m sure you’re not much worse than Jack is waking up,” Hotch said and you turned to look at him. Sensing your questioning look, Hotch spoke again a second later. “If you’re fine with me checking on you. I just… I’d feel better if I was the one to check on you. You already got hurt on my watch.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Hotch. But thank you.”

The rest of the night was relatively calm, what bits you remember clearly. You would sleep for a little, be woken up and asked a few questions by Hotch, and he would return to his bed a few feet from your own to repeat the process throughout the night. God, his morning voice would live in your memories forever. You weren’t sure what happened that night, but something changed between the two of you. And you had to admit, you liked the changes.

You found yourself paired with Hotch more often when the team split up. Hotch’s shoulders would brush against yours more often, and when Hotch laid his hand on your shoulder one day, you swear your brain short circuited. Not that you would know because you genuinely think you blacked out briefly from the contact, but Emily and Derek would never let you forget it. As time passed, you noticed you were watched by the team more often, especially when you were near Hotch. The day Hotch sat beside you on the plane, you swore you heard a squeal come from Emily before she was shushed by JJ. And this extra time spent with Hotch was great for you, but so bad for your imagination. You found yourself lost in thought more often, like a lovesick teenager. Imagining things with Hotch you know you’d never get to do, knowing he would never reciprocate your feelings. You’d stick with daydreaming for now; pretending he was waiting at the end of the hall for you when you left work. Pretending it was his suit jacket thrown on the floor instead of your own, his want for you high enough to discard his jacket like it was nothing. You could only dream… or so you thought.

You had been working on paperwork from your last case, when Hotch dropped a folder onto your desk as he walked by. You furrowed your brows as you opened the folder, and you could barely keep your expression under control as you read the sticky note inside- Meet me in my office tonight.You had to read over the note a few times for it to really set in and you glanced up, watching as Hotch went upstairs to his office as if nothing happened.

The rest of work passed by agonizingly slow, and you busied yourself with paperwork you had put off from the week. Slowly, the rest of the BAU agents had trickled out; even if it took all your self control to not push Spencer out of the building when he finally left ten minutes ago. You took a deep breath as you stood, and you made your way upstairs towards Hotch’s office. His blinds were already closed and you knocked on his door.

“Come in.” Hotch’s voice was muffled by the shut door and you slowly opened the door. Sweet Jesus, he wanted you dead. Hotch’s jacket was off, tie slightly loosened, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and you swear your brain once again malfunctioned at the sight.

“I, uh, got your note,” You said dumbly and you fought the urge to run out of the building. “Obviously,” you added and Hotch graced you with a smile, a huff of laughter leaving his lips. The sound helped you relax a little and you smiled softly at Hotch.

“You’re nervous. You’re usually not nervous around me.” The observation was surface level, but it felt like you were being studied. “If you’d rather go-”

“No!” You blurted before you cleared your throat, and you took a seat across from Hotch’s desk. “No. I guess I’m just, I’m wondering why I’m here.”

“Do you have any idea why?” Hotch asked and you leaned forward.

“I have an idea. You could even say I have a desire for why you called me here, but,” you propped your elbows on his desk, “why don’t you clear the air, Agent Hotchner?” A few moments passed in a deafening silence, your eyes locked with Hotch’s.

“I’ve tried to ignore it,” Hotch started. “I felt something different when I met you at the banquet, and I didn’t know what that feeling was. Intrigue, for sure. Then you showed up one day, and Strauss introduced you as my new agent.”

“What can I say? I like being a mysterious entity,” you said.

“And you continued to be one, and it’s gotten stronger since that case you were injured. You’re constantly preoccupying my mind,” Hotch said and you slowly stood up. You rounded his desk and sat on top of it, and you slowly reached out. Your hand found its way to his tie, and you gave it a firm tug, pulling him closer to you.

“Wanna know a secret?” You asked, leaning down closer to him. You were so close, you noticed some gold flecks in his eyes you hadn’t noticed before. “You’ve been on my mind since we first met.” You weren’t sure who closed the gap, but suddenly lips were on yours, and Hotch’s hands were on your hips and you gasped as you were yanked into his lap. You grabbed at his shirt with one hand, your other finding its home in his hair, and you felt a surge of pride when a groan slipped from Hotch’s lips. “Fuck, Aaron.”

Hotch backed away slightly and you almost whined at the loss. “What was that?”

“Aaron..?” You hesitantly repeated and Hotch pulled you closer.

“Fucking hell.” Hotch’s lips were back on yours and you lost yourself, preoccupied with him. You didn’t know how long had passed before you pulled apart, breathing heavy, and Hotch’s forehead rested against your own.

“Penelope will have a field day if she finds out about this.” You breathed out a laugh and Hotch shifted so you were looking at him.

“And what exactly do you want this to be?” Hotch seemed… nervous? Vulnerable? Something different from the confident man you had become infatuated with.

“As much as I loved making out with you, ideally?” You ran your fingers gently through Hotch’s hair. “I’d like to try getting dinner with you. Maybe spend some time together, not hidden in your office.” You smiled at Hotch. “I believe that’s what they call dating these days.”

“I haven’t dated in a while,” Hotch said and you shrugged.

“We’ll figure it out, yeah?” You asked and Hotch nodded. You pressed a gentle kiss to Hotch’s cheek and you let your head rest against his shoulder.

“I think I can work with that.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #hotch x reader

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hyperfixatedimagines · 4 months

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Home for the Holidays Chapter 2

Summary: Your family didn't take your coming out well....and instead of spending the holiday alone you join your roommate for Christmas dinner. While Aemond wishes you set your sights on his sister Helaena, your tastes skew much older.

A/N: This chapter is not quite as smutty as I may have promised so I apologize but hope you all still enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: I also apologize for the massive massive delay but as always I appreciate those of you who've stuck around patiently waiting. Happy Holidays!

You walked into the study, and revealed yourself as the peeping tom.

“Oh it’s you,” Alicent said, a bit of surprise in her voice.

“I’m so sorry Alicent. I just couldn’t sleep so I came down for a drink of water then I saw the lights on and wondered who else was up but then I heard you crying and tried to leave you alone but then you heard me so I-,” you rambled, your face getting warmer with every word that left your lips.

Alicent put a hand up to quiet you.

It worked.

“It’s alright (y/n)," she said, her voice a bit hoarse.

You noted her eyes looked tired but her smile was just as warm as it had been earlier.

“I’ll uh- leave you to it then,” you said sheepishly.

You turned to leave but Alicent called out to you.

“Won't you join me for a drink?”

You turned back to her, eyebrows raised. “Are you sure?”

Alicent nodded.

“Only if you want to though,” she added.

“I do,” you replied.

So you walked over to where Alicent stood.

You sat down in the armchair opposite her in front of the fireplace.

“Pick your poison,” Alicent said and gestured to the bar cart next to her.

You eyed the options she had in the cart. Nothing you really liked but you didn’t want to be rude. So you went with the drink you least hated out of the alcohol she had available.

“I’ll do just two fingers of whiskey,“ you told her.

Alicent raised her brows. “I didn’t peg you for a whiskey girl.“

You smirked. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Alicent chuckled. “That is true.”

Then she turned to the bar cart and started to pour your drink.

You cleared your throat. “Is it alright if I ask why you were crying?”

Alicent finished pouring your whiskey.

Then she handed it over to you. You took it.

Alicent leaned back in her seat. “It’s not some big secret. My family can be...a lot, but the estate is so lonely when they aren’t all here. I get a little emotional when they leave.”

"I get that," you said, then took a sip of the whiskey.

It was horrendous but you did your best to hide your disgust.

You figured you didn’t hide it well enough by the laugh that escaped Alicent’s lips.

Your face went hot with embarrassment.

Alicent quickly recovered and changed the topic. “So, why couldn’t you sleep?”

You set the glass of whiskey aside. “It’s a bit pathetic really,” you replied without meeting her gaze.

Alicent frowned. “I’m sure it’s not...but I won’t pry if you don’t wish to share.”

You looked over at the fire, and got lost in the crackling flames before you answered. Alicent watched you, rapt.

“It’s my family. I checked my mother’s social media and she already has a bunch of vacation photos up.”

Alicent nodded softly. “I can imagine that hurt to see.”

You met her gaze. “It did, but what really hurt was that she didn’t even acknowledge a family member was missing. In one of the captions it said it was good to have the ‘whole family’ there.”

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes again so you turned away from Alicent and blinked them away.

"That’s so awful. I don’t understand how a mother could do that to her daughter. I can’t even imagine doing that with Aegon...and you know how he is," Alicent replied then took a long drink.

You let out a small laugh and turned back to face her.

She set her drink on her lap and laughed along.

The pain in your chest dissipated hearing Alicent’s laugh.

You smiled.

“Thank you,” you told her.

She tilted her head to the side. “Whatever for?”

“It hurts less, being here with you,” you confessed.

When you realized what you had said you quickly added, “- With your family, I mean.”

This time it was Alicent who blushed. She looked down at the drink in her hands. “You say the sweetest things (y/n).”

Butterflies started to tickle your nerves. No funny or witty retort formed in your mind. So you just smiled.

Alicent looked back up at you, and smiled back.

It started to get quiet as neither of you knew what to say next.

Once again it was Alicent who broke the silence.

“How is Aemond doing at uni? He tells me he’s doing well but I know my little dragon. I worry about him. He’s never been one to have many friends,” Alicent said as she swirled the alcohol around in her glass.

You took a steadying breath. “He’s doing alright. He’s a really nice guy.”

Alicent nodded without looking up from her glass. “That’s good. I’ve always hoped he would be. Does he have a girlfriend?”

You shook your head. “Not that I know of, and Aemond and I tell each other everything.”

“I see,” she replied, then looked up at you. “You know, the first time I saw you in the background during a facetime call I hoped you were his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “Me? Really?”

Alicent laughed along with you. “Yes, I guess I just hoped he had someone caring for him y’know?”

You nodded. “I do."

"Besides, you seemed like a nice girl and I thought we would get along well," she added, a tinge of pink in her cheeks.

"I don't think Aemond would classify me as a nice girl,” you said with a laugh.

Alicent took another drink, but she smiled as she peered over her glass and looked at you. “Is that so?”

“I don’t think Aemond would be my type, if I was into men, or I his in all honesty,” you replied and shrugged.

Alicent’s smile slowly disappeared, and was replaced by slightly pursed lips. She eyed you up and down before looking back down at the amber liquid in her glass. She cleared her throat.

Your gaze shot back towards her.

“What is your type?” She asked, swallowing hard.

Your eyes narrowed a bit at the question.

Why would she want to know? Is she flirt- No. She’s just making conversation, you thought to yourself.

“I guess I have a tendency to go for older women,” you revealed, trying your best not to give away that you only had one older woman in mind.

She met your gaze, and you didn’t dare look away.You didn’t dare take a breath.

There was something in her gaze, you couldn’t read it, and you didn’t want her to stop looking at you.

But she did.

Alicent looked away and took another drink. “How did you and uhm- how did you and Aemond become friends?”

You slowly let out the breath you had held.

“Uhm…,” you began, trying to collect your thoughts. “We had the same history class freshman year. He was this annoying kid in class that would correct the professor whenever there was the smallest inaccuracy or inconsistency. It drove everyone crazy but I thought it was hilarious.He was a total nerd and I found it ridiculously endearing.”

Alicent smiled. “That sounds like my Aemond.”

You nodded. “Then we got paired up for a history project and we just got to talking. We bonded over the way our families can be...a lot.”

Alicent looked at you with raised brows. “I see.”

You sat up, afraid you had offended her. “Not like in a bad or good way, just that with money comes high expectations.”

Alicent nodded. “Of course (y/n), I understand more than you could imagine.”

You sat back in the armchair and took another sip of your whiskey. “I don’t doubt it...what are eldest daughters if not slaves to the family name, right?”

The whiskey didn’t taste as gross this time so you took another drink.

Alicent gazed at the burning fire. She sighed.

“Exactly,” she whispered.

"Sorry for being so dour,” you said and downed the rest of the whiskey.

Alicent did the same and finished off her glass. “Don’t be. I haven’t had someone to talk to like this since…” She trailed off.

“Since your husband passed?,” you guessed.

Alicent nodded slowly. “Yes..”

“Aemond mentioned you used to be very involved in your late husband’s political campaigns. Do you have plans to get back into that?”

Alicent exhaled loudly and ran a hand through her messy auburn hair. “That’s a great question…”

Then Alicent sank into her seat and let her head rest against the back of the armchair.

“I’m actually having trouble figuring out what to do now that I’m a widow. It feels like my whole life I’ve lived for what others wanted of me. First, what my father wanted. Then what Viserys and the children needed from me,” Alicent mused. “I have no idea what I actually want..”

You stared at Alicent.

She looks so lonely, you thought. Does she open up like this to everyone, you wondered. Or is she like this only with me?

“Do you want to start a new career? Or take up a new hobby? Maybe…get back out there and date,” you asked, paying great attention to how she would react to your last words.

Alicent sat up and let out a chuckle. “God no, I mean….”

Then she looked down at her empty glass. “I wouldn’t know what to say or do,” Alicent tucked a stray lock behind her ear, “I doubt I’d have suitors clamoring for me at my age.”

You frowned. “You can’t possibly think that.”

Alicent shrugged. “I’m not much to look at I’m afraid.”

She’s not serious, you thought, how could someone so beautiful not know they’re a gift to us all?

“Alicent you are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” you blurted out.

Your stomach dropped. Had you really said that? Out loud?

Alicent’s gaze shot up to meet yours. Blush once again tinted her cheeks pink. “You’re very kind (y/n),” Alicent replied.

“It’s not kindness Alicent, it’s the truth,” you replied.

Before she could respond with something tragically self deprecating again you continued on.

“I know for a fact you would have hordes of men knocking down your door just for the chance to take you out to dinner,” you rambled as you fingered the rim of your glass anxiously.

You felt emboldened by her gracious acceptance of your flattery but you weren’t sure how far she’d like you take it…if she wanted you to take it beyond flattery.

Alicent laughed softly. “I don’t know about that.”

Your eyes flitted to her lips. You swallowed hard.

You wanted to know…you needed to know.

“I’d be at your door,” you professed and looked up to meet her gaze.

Alicent’s gaze felt hot. “Really?” She asked.

“In a heartbeat,” you replied, the thrumming of your own heart pulsed in your ears.

Alicent bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes raked over you. “Are you seeing anyone (y/n)?”

You shook your head softly. “No.”

You didn’t trust yourself to say much more, afraid your voice would crack under the nerves that ate away at your insides.

“I wouldn’t have guessed it, you’re such a charmer,” she said, with a playful smirk on her lips.

The thrumming dropped from your heart to between your thighs.

Desire bloomed in the words left unsaid by Alicent’s darkened gaze.

You sat up in the armchair and cleared your throat, hoping to regain some semblance of control over yourself. “The girls at school aren’t really my type.”

Alicent nodded. “Right, you like older women.” She set her glass aside then leaned back in her seat. "So what age is just right for you then?” Alicent asked as she crossed her legs.

Her nightgown rode up just past her knee, just enough to give you a glimpse at her thigh.

You swallowed hard and looked away. "That uhm- it uh-," you stuttered, the sneak peak at Alicent's thigh lingered in your mind.

Alicent sat forward and put her hands on her knee. "Would a woman like me be too old?" She held your gaze, and you noted that her irises had darkened much since dinner.

"N-n-no," you blurted, your brain had short circuited from the drastic change in Alicent’s demeanor.

Alicent smirked once more. “Am I making you nervous (y/n)?”

Your face felt feverish. You smiled sheepishly and ran your sweaty palms down your thighs. “Oh uhm I-,” you stuttered.

Then you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

When you opened them you realized Alicent was staring at you, smiling.

She was toying with you…Alicent was no longer just making conversation.

Two could play that game, you thought.

You swallowed hard and composed yourself.

“You do make me nervous Alicent. You’re exactly my type, after all,” you replied earnestly.

You watched as Alicent’s brows raised then she blushed and looked down at her hands.

"Oh, I-," she replied, her breath just above a whisper.

You smiled triumphantly. You just had to keep telling yourself that Alicent was no different than the other women you had flirted with, and who had flirted with you, countless nights at the bars in town.

Alicent shifted in her seat, you noted the way she pressed her legs closer together and smoothed her nightgown down.

She didn't meet your gaze again.

Your heart dropped.

Had you read things all wrong?

You panicked.

“I’m such an idiot,” you said under your breath.

Alicent furrowed her brows. “Did you say something?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m sorry Alicent. I didn’t...I didn’t think that my words might be uncomfortable for you,” you rambled. “I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” you continued and stood from your chair.

You turned towards the door and started to move but Alicent reached out and gripped your wrist.

You turned back to meet her gaze.

“Stay…for another drink, please,” she uttered.

She let go of your wrist and you slowly sat back down.

This time she did not ask you what you wanted to drink. Instead she busied herself with the drinks and liquors. She picked the shaker up and proceeded to mix the cocktail she had prepared. Then she poured it into a clean glass and handed it to you.

Your fingers briefly grazed hers as the glass traded hands.

It only served to flame the kindling desires inside you.

You took a sip of the drink. She had poured you something sweet, but it was still quite strong.

“This is delicious,” you said, your eyes looking at her from above the rim of the glass.

Alicent cleared her throat and turned to pour herself another drink. “How did things go with Helaena? I noticed the way she took to you after dinner.You said you talked but it looked like more than that.”

You furrowed your brows as you took another sip. You needed liquid courage.

“That? She was just being nice. She congratulated me for being brave and sharing my story at dinner,” you explained then took another drink of the cocktail Alicent had mixed for you. You continued. “I told Aemond and Aegon I don’t think Helaena is gay. She’s just a very nice girl,” you finished.

Alicent turned to you with a new drink in her hands. She took a sip before resting it on her thigh. “That she is...it’s a shame though,” she stated.

You tilted your head to the side, unable to read her. “A shame?”

Alicent swirled her drink in her glass. “Mhm, I would’ve liked seeing you around more often if you had dated Helaena.” She took a long drink.

You looked down into your own glass and smiled. The thrumming in your chest returned. “I’ll just have to find another reason to stop by and share your company then,” you declared then looked back up at her.

Alicent held your gaze, her eyes curious and piercing. “You could be in any woman’s company, why bother with mine?”

You set your glass on the small table to the left of your armchair. You thought about how to respond.

She was your best friend's mother and you knew you couldn’t have her but…you wanted her nonetheless.

So you returned your gaze to her and told her the truth. “Because yours is the company I desire.”

Alicent did not look away and neither did you.

The world seemed to come to a standstill.

The way Alicent looked at you...if she was anyone else your lips would have been against hers in a matter of seconds.

But she wasn’t anyone else.

She was your best friend’s mother.

So you couldn’t assume.

She had to initiate. She had to show you that she wanted this too.

Alicent’s gaze drifted down to your lips.

She bit her lips as she stared and it almost sent you over the edge, the best friend code be damned.

Then she heaved a large sigh and turned towards the bar cart.

“Would you like another drink?” Alicent fiddled with various bottles before she stood. “Oh god, I forgot the grenadine.”

Then she walked to the full size bar at the far corner of the study.

You turned in your seat and watched as her hands shook, picking the grenadine up from the rack of mixes.

Had you misread things again?

No, you were convinced something was there. There was a spark between the two of you.

One you could not light and Alicent seemed hesitant to do so.

So you stood and walked to her side. You stopped when you felt Alicent’s back against your chest.

“I have another confession to make,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Your hands itched to reach out and touch her.

Part of you knew you would have to make the first move. A woman like Alicent, with no experience with women, would not be the one to initiate.

Alicent looked at you through the reflection in the mirror on the wall of the bar.

She swallowed. “What is it?”

You noted her voice was a little hoarse, dry and raw.

So you leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear.

“Something I’ve wanted to tell you since the moment I laid eyes on you...but if it would be unwelcome just say the word and I will go back to the guest room and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

Being so close to her you smelled her intoxicating scent of cinnamon and vanilla. You had no doubt it was from an expensive perfume.

Alicent stared at you through the mirror, indecision and desire plain on her face.

“Say it,” she finally whispered.

“I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you and never stop. I want to kiss you until my lungs burn and my lips bruise,” you confessed, your voice thick with desire.

Alicent gasped.

She whipped around to face you.

Her chest pressed against yours.

The heat of her breath warmed your chest.

She looked between the two of you, at the lack of space.

Then she met your gaze.

She nodded ever so slightly.

That was enough for you.

You leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to change her mind if she truly did not want to kiss you.

Her lips were full and ruby red. You wanted nothing more than to devour her then and there.

Butterflies burst in your chest.

She wasn’t just any woman. She was Alicent.

And you did not want to break whatever spell the universe had cast.

Alicent closed her eyes as her lips neared yours.

You did the same when you felt the warmth of her breath on your lips.

Soft and yielding, were your first thoughts when your lips touched hers.

She cupped your face and pulled you closer.

You reached out and put your hands on her hips.

The thumping of your heart rang in your ears.

Alicent parted her lips and you let out a low moan when your tongue met hers.

No thought formed in your mind and all you could do was relish the feel of Alicent’s lips against your own.

But soon your lungs ached for air and sweat beaded off your forehead.

You did not want to part from her. You knew that if you did the spell would be broken.

Even worse, you feared that Alicent would ask you to forget such a kiss even took place.

So you continued to kiss her, your lungs be damned. You pulled her hips towards you and pressed them against your own.

The fire in your lungs could only be matched by the throbbing between your thighs.

Then just like that, Alicent pulled away.

But her hands remained on your face.

She ran her thumb across your cheek as her chest heaved. She smiled breathlessly.

“That was…,” she said then trailed off.

You nodded, also trying to catch your breath. “It was.”

Then she brought you in for another kiss.

It was quicker, and not as deep.

But you were glad the spell was not yet broken.

When she pulled away the second time you saw the hunger in her eyes once more.

It reminded you of the painful throb between your legs.

“Alicent,” you said as you tried to catch your breath.

Alicent stared at your lips. “Yes?”

“I want you…all of you,” you confessed.

Alicent’s gaze shot up to meet your own.

“What,” she gaped.

You swallowed hard.

Had you broken the spell?

“I want all of you,” you reiterated.

Alicent shook her head. “We couldn’t (y/n)...kissing is one thing but-,” Alicent replied but you cut her off with another kiss.

You needed to show her how much you wanted her. To let her realize how much she wanted you in return.

Alicent kissed you back without hesitation.

Slowly, you guided her to the chaise nearby.

When you felt the back of your knees hit the chaise you slowly lowered yourself and Alicent down onto it.

Alicent pulled away as you settled on the chaise.

She furrowed her brow.

“(y/n)...,” Alicent began but stopped herself.

She bit her lip as she watched your chest heave.

You laid back on the chaise and stuck your hand out towards her.

Alicent took it and straddled you.

She crashed her lips onto yours and kissed you hungrily.

Your hands fell to her hips once again.

Alicent’s hips softly bucked against yours as she continued to kiss you.

The throbbing between your thighs started to overwhelm you. You brought your hips up against Alicent’s.

She moaned into your kiss.

Your hands roamed her lower body as you both lost yourself in the kiss.

Alicent pulled away from you and put a hand on your chest.

“You must never tell Aemond,” she commanded.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

Then Alicent got off of you and helped you stand.

She led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the floor where her room was.

I will never tire of her kiss, you thought as Alicent pressed her lips to yours once more.

She straddled you on her bed.

It was plush with ample space. You figured it was probably worth more than your school’s tuition.

Alicent broke the kiss to unbutton your pajama top.

When Alicent reached the second to last button she furiously pulled it apart and hungrily kissed your neck.

You threw your head back and bit your lip.

It burned wherever her lips trailed along your neck and down your chest. You needed more.

Alicent pulled away and undid her silk robe.

You stood and pushed the pajama bottoms off your body.

The second your pants hit the floor Alicent pushed you back onto the bed and straddled you.

You smiled up at her.

You would never have imagined her so dominant, but it fed the flames of your desire.

Alicent brought your lips to hers and placed her hands on the bed on either side of your head.

Your hands flew to her thighs. You pushed her silk nightgown up, and didn’t stop.

The nightgown was up to her hips.

When you didn’t feel any lace underneath you pulled away from the kiss.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath?” You asked, your voice filled with surprise.

Alicent looked down at you with a small smirk. “Maybe I wanted to save you a step,” she replied with a laugh.

You smiled back and leaned up to capture her lips in a kiss once more.

Not even a minute later you pulled away from Alicent again, this time to bring the nightgown up and over her head.

Alicent grabbed the nightgown from you and tossed it aside.

You stared up at her, now fully naked and bathed in moonlight from the skylight in the ceiling.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered.

Alicent smiled at you. “Such a charmer,” she teased.

You wrapped your arms around her and flipped the both of you over in her bed.

Alicent giggled as she landed on her back, a few of the feathers from the down pillows on the bed flew out and settled in Alicent’s hair.

You raked your eyes over her body, committing every dip and curve to memory.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you-,” she began but was once again cut off. She let out a small moan as your lips closed around her budded nipple.

Her hands dug into your hair as you sucked on her.

Your hands did not idle as one held you upright and the other traveled down Alicent’s side.

The ghost of your fingertips left goosebumps in their wake on Alicent’s warm skin.

Alicent bit down on her lip as your hand settled between her thighs.

Her wetness was splashed against her inner thighs. At the very touch of it you felt your own desire soak through your underwear.

Your mouth left her nipple and placed kisses along her collarbone.

Alicent hummed in bliss.

Your fingers made their way to Alicent’s labia.

Her voice caught as the tips of your fingers touched her.

You brought your gaze up to hers.

“Last chance to turn back and pretend like nothing happened,” you joked.

Alicent huffed and brought your lips to hers. “Don’t you even think about it.”

You smiled into the kiss.

I wouldn’t dream of it, you thought to yourself, I’ve been good all year for this present.

Alicent moaned into your kiss when your fingers entered inside her.

Sounds of pleasure would escape Alicent all night as you devoted yourself to making the night never end so that you would never have to leave the warmth of her kiss.

After you both had been spent, Alicent placed a gentle kiss to your cheek and bid you goodnight.

“Dream of me,” you told her.

She smiled lazily as her eyes fluttered shut. “As if I could dream of anyone else after tonight.”

You smiled as you watched her drift off to sleep.

Your own eyelids grew heavy, but you fought sleep for as long as you could.

If you slept you would wake up and would have to have a conversation about what tonight would mean for you and Alicent (and Aemond), but if you remained awake you could bask in post coital bliss.

So you gazed at a sleeping Alicent, and gently raked your hands through her hair.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her.

Sleep came for you though you tried your hardest to fight it.

The next morning you woke up, briefly confused about the location you had awoken in then reassured as you looked over at Alicent still wrapped in your arms.

It had not been a dream.

You placed a gentle kiss to the side of her head then slowly untangled yourself from her.

You dressed yourself and put on the now partially torn pajama top then headed out the door.

Sounds of a whirring blender and workout music lead you to the kitchen. You knew Aemond loved to blast hip hop right before he weight trained first thing in the morning. It had been annoying at first but you’d grown used to it.

You entered the kitchen.

Aemond smiled as you walked in. “Good morning (y/n).”

You grinned from ear to ear. “It is a blessed morning indeed.”

He immediately narrowed his eyes on you. “Why are you talking like that?”

Then his eyes flew down to the torn pajama top.

He set his green smoothie down on the counter, a severe look on his face. “Tell me you didn’t actually-”

You opened the fridge and retrieved a bottled mineral water.

“Oh I very much did, and hope to do it again,” you replied with a satisfied smirk.

Aemond’s jaw dropped. “That’s my mother, you harlot! How? She’s totally- wait I don’t want to know how.”

You laughed and took a long drink of water.

Aemond threw a piece of nearby celery at you. “You’re never coming home for the holidays ever again.”

You laughed as it landed on you. “I don’t think I’m ever leaving, son.”

Aemond laughed as you walked out of the kitchen.

As you walked back up to Alicent’s bedroom you realized that this had been the best Christmas you could’ve asked for. Fuck St. Barths.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent higtower imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon reader insert #alicent hightower reader insert

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aldeanotes · 5 months

Text

the art of cooking

aemond / modern!reader, 16+, fluff / comedy / mild angst in later plot points. inspiration taken from kdrama mr. queen. reader is very bi and loves girls so much.

summary: in which you are a famous young chef whose soul was transported into the body of some way too pretty and privileged noble woman. oh, and you’re supposed to marry a prince or whatever. anyway, can you test this to see if it's ready ?

warnings: reader is batshit wild and doesn't have time for westerosi norms : ). characters will be ooc at times and this story is not entirely canon compliant.

author's notes: sorry for the very long delay !!! i've had so much going on !!!

tag list: @azaleapotterblack, @aurorathi

chapter two: / 5.2k words

Sitting before Otto and Alicent Hightower, you realize, quite bluntly, you don’t want to be here. They’re going to think you’re out of your mind if you speak the truth of the situation – you fell in some water and then woke up here in this place – but it’s the truth nonetheless. Given their hardened expressions (that Otto gives you and Alicent has the mercy to give it to the floor instead of you), you have a feeling they already don’t like the situation as they perceive it.

Which is that the younger prince’s betrothed (you make a face whenever they refer to this relation) has suffered a memory loss and the greatest doctors of this age can’t seem to fix it through traditional means.

Alicent takes in a deep breath, finally breaking her intense eye contact with the floor and running her hands briefly across her face in slight distress. Though, you have a feeling she’s a little bit of a mess inside. You shift uncomfortably in the seat at the Small Council. Jaquetta’s comforting presence is behind you. Unfortunately, the other presence in the room causes you to pretend to be deeply interested in the space between Alicent’s eyebrows.

Prince Aemond sits across from you, next to Otto. If he’s looking at you, you don’t know. You don’t care. He’s not YOUR betrothed, after all, and you have no joy in getting married to anybody. In your real life in your real body, you never had a good example to follow for a healthy relationship, and this girl’s body and that guy sitting across from you do not contain brains that are smart enough to realize that marriage in your teens is a usually bad idea.

Apparently none of the brains of the others in the room are smart either.

“Your uncle and sister are on their way. I have already written to them informing them of the situation,” Alicent breaks the tense silence, looking right at you.

Your eyes meet hers, and you can see a certain kind of tiredness in them. You feel inclined to just nod, so you do. You hope these people will be normal, at least.

“Regarding the marriage–” Otto’s voice pierces straight to the point. He has this way of speaking that makes you feel like he teeters around certain topics like a fighter circling his opponent. “It would be best if we–”

You raise your hand suddenly. Your eyes stare right at the table’s surface. You don’t want to know what everyone else looks like at your actions. You open your mouth and let out a dumb sound – “Um.” There’s a small pause. “Question.” You smack your lips as you gather up all your courage to make your inquiry. “Can we just, you know, not have it?”

Jaquetta grips your shoulder tightly and you know you’ve messed up.

“That is not an option,” Alicent says.

Her tone is sharp enough to cause you to flinch and hesitantly look up at her. Your eyes meet her brown ones. You feel a weight on you. You’ve come to realize in the brief moments you’ve looked at her that Alicent comes through in the eyes. Even as they capture you in their vision, you can’t look away.

It all feels much like how things used to be with your mother.

Alicent must sense the way you retreat into yourself because she swallows before continuing on in a gentler voice.

“It is for the good of the realm.”

But you don’t care about that. Jacquetta has tried telling you of things here and there, but, for the love of the creator, you have no investment in the happenings of this world the same way these people do. You’re a foreign entity trapped here, treated with a different level of scrutiny and pushed down by traditions that have been relatively abandoned in your own world. It feels unfair. You want to scream at these people.

“But I’m not well,” you say. It’s the only real protest you have.

Alicent purses her lips and glances down at her intertwined hands on the table. Her father beats her to it.

“To speak plainly of it,” he starts, and you already can tell from his tone that you’d been doomed to this fate before you even knew it. “This marriage contract has already been approved by the royal household and your house. The wedding is to be held in three months’ time –”

You put your face in your hands.

(“Oh, my fucking god,” you whisper into your flesh. Otto ignores you.)

“Given the time frame, we will not be able to cancel the wedding nor is it in the interest of the realm to do so.”

A wave of nausea hits you, and you distinctly feel like throwing up.

“Your uncle and sister have been informed of the situation and will be arriving within the month,” Otto says. He speaks like everything is final, and as you feel the walls close in around you, you realize it is. “We will have to make use of these three months to be sure you are presentable in time for the wedding.”

Something like dread settles in your stomach. Forget the uncle and sister. Your more immediate worry is about how they plan on making you ‘presentable’ at a wedding you don’t want to a person you don’t know.

Your voice is small when you speak again. “And you’re going to do that – how ?”

“We will arrange some tutors and a septa to be at your side at all times,” Alicent chimes in.

‘At all times’ – you get the impression it’s more to keep an eye on you rather than for your benefit. After not giving yourself nearly enough time to process everything, you lift your head up and glance between Otto and Alicent. You ignore the way Aemond has taken to tapping his finger on the table top.

“So that’s it?” You ask. They say nothing. “Just like that?”

Still nothing.

You look at your last lifeline. Aemond has stopped tapping on the table and is looking back at you when you finally forget the uncomfortable tension between the two of you. You must look pathetic because his lone eye flickers over your face as if he’s taking you in. Even in this situation, he makes your spine go a little cold. It takes some strength not to flinch back from him.

“You–” You take a breath to collect yourself. “You don't really want this either. Right?” You might as well be pleading to him right now with the way your eyes look at him and the way you wave your arm around. “There’s no way you actually agree. I mean – I’m not me anymore.”

He just regards you in brief silence.

“You don’t want to do this!” Your voice raises a bit and Jaquetta stiffens next to you.

“I will perform my duty to the realm,” Aemond answers, keeping your gaze.

You’re floored, a breathy chuckle leaving you at his words. The corners of your mouth twitch up as if he’d told a joke. It was a sick one, if you’d ever heard one. Your arm that you’d been waving around flops helplessly onto your lap as you watch him turn to his mother and grandfather.

“I will wed my betrothed as agreed upon.”

You don’t know if it’s commendable or downright idiotic of him to marry someone who clearly he knows is not normal. Your lips part to make another protest but all that comes out is air. Everyone in this room with any semblance of power greater than your own has shut you down. Your worries are cast aside. They’re like whispers in the wind to these people.

Otto says something before getting up and walking away. You retreat back into your mind as you always do when you’re frightened, when things are beyond your control like this. The screech of chairs don’t awaken you from your state. Your eyes bore into the polished table, and you think you might almost cry but your eyes flutter shut to stop them. How can you even stop this?

Jaquetta kneels down beside you and takes your hand. You feel a little less alone.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The septa, which you realize is something like a nun, assigned to you is boring and overbearing. Septa Lettice is stern, rule-abiding and watches your every move. Even Jaquetta has difficulty adjusting to this new presence in your life, her bright smile appearing a little tight against the septa’s neutral expression. You can’t even so much as go for a stroll without her lingering right on top of you. Her teachings are even worse.

While you’ve been spared from being inflicted any physical punishments, when you raise protests against whatever bullshit she tries shoving down your throat, she’s quick to dole out more readings or lessons to occupy any free time you were waiting for. Though you at least admit that not all these long sermons on the Faith of the Seven are for naught. You find that this world is just as brutal and unfair as the damn Dark Ages in your own world. A discovery which makes you look forward to your time here. Of course.

You whisper your practiced prayers monotonously so she’ll get off your back.

When it’s not with Septa Lettice, Alicent and Otto have been kind enough to assign you other trusted governesses to teach you etiquette, speech and some admittedly more useful knowledge like history and basic finances. The governess presiding over your history and financial lessons finds you more agreeable than Septa Lettice and the other governesses that try to wrangle in your resistant behavior. The first week you attempted to just not show up for the first couple of lessons, and the following week you found that several palace servants had come early in the morning to escort you to your daily lessons. You try for another escape through the window and it takes both Septa Lettice and Jaquetta their entire strength to pull you back inside. Alicent gives you a thorough verbal reprimand that evening, and it’s enough to get you to curb your behavior somewhat.

Jaquetta proves herself to be your greatest asset, though.

“This is your house, my lady,” she says, unfurling a piece of soft, muted purple fabric with your house’s sigil on it.

You flinch a little at the sight of a shrike perched upon a branch with one of its meals skewered on a thorn against the backdrop of a castle.

“Kind of gruesome,” you reply, looking down at your botched attempt at sewing a flower for your embroidery lesson. It looks like a distorted mess, like a plate of spaghetti that’s been dropped on the ground.

Jaquetta smiles widely. “The shrike with its prey has been your house’s sigil since its founding. Your ancestors used the bird’s way of killing its victims to build Shrikesdrop to defend against enemies.”

Shrikesdrop – the ancestral seat of House Durant. It’s perched miles high above the water’s surface, impossible to invade by a beach landing and nearly impenetrable by any army thanks to the steep incline of the roads that lead up to it. According to Jaquetta and a couple notes you found in a book here and there, Shrikesdrop has spikes that resemble thorn covered branches that can impale thousands of men who are unfortunate enough to fall off the inclines. Your house has perfected many tricks to get people to fall off of it, and death by impalement is apparently the go-to execution method of your house. You suddenly didn’t want to meet your uncle and sister after hearing that.

“‘As Sharp as Thorns’,” you mumble your house words. It’s dumb, but you guess it’s the best your ancestors could do.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t mean to stumble across Aemond again. It just happens. Like so much in your two lives.

While you don’t exactly allow yourself to get extinguished fully, you at least understand that your ability to get some manner of freedom rests on some compromise on your part. And, well, you’re pretty smart. Smart enough to remember your lessons, to execute the right angle when you greet your governesses, to hold your head high like you’ve always had blue blood in your veins. That was all you had to pay in exchange for some free time.

It’s the sound of steel clashing that causes you to hurry to the platform overlooking the training grounds, eager for some action to rid you of your boredom.

Your opinion of your betrothed is tainted, of course, because of your judgments. It’s also a little difficult to find yourself liking someone you’re forcefully bound to at this point. However, you can’t deny it. The silver locks that fly about like feathers belonging to a bird of prey are what catch your eye first. You can spot them as he dances about the ground, the dirt crunching underneath his boots.

You can’t see his lone eye, but you feel that if you were close enough they’d have that unsettling intensity you’d seen before – honed in on something. His body is both strong yet nimble as he readies himself. His hand grasps the sword as if it were part of his body.

He’s a fighter.

Fire and Blood – Jaquetta taught you the Targaryen words before those of your own house. The blood of the dragon.

You’d heard the screeching of the dragons sometimes, but you’d never been allowed to rush to see them. Somewhere between your acceptance of your fate and your need to cling on to what you know, you think you’d prefer not to see one. Aemond’s dragon, Vhagar, is the largest in the world, or so you’ve been told.

“Shit,” you hiss underneath your breath when you see Aemond’s opponent take such a fierce swing at him.

Your fingers grip the edge of the platform. The hard surface superficially scratches the skin of your palm. It’s a reflexive reaction, but unnecessary. Aemond blocks it gracefully and disengages cleanly. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Fear not, my lady,” Septa Lettice says. “Ser Criston Cole will not harm the prince.”

Criston Cole, the most trusted sworn sword of Queen Alicent and member of the king’s guard. The best knight in all of the land. Apparently. The royal family sure does have access to some of the best things and people in this land.

Criston circles Aemond after engaging once again, facing towards you as you watch from the platform. Watching training interests you in ways that lessons do not. Perhaps it is the deadliness of it or perhaps it is because even you understand that observing two skilled warriors in a small battle is a luxury few can see. Dark eyes flicker up to you and you stiffen, realizing that Criston is looking right at you.

He says something you can’t make out to Aemond. As soon as you see the back of Aemond’s head begin to move, you run off, Jaquetta and Lettice chasing after you behind you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your beloved Septa scolds you all the way back inside and only lowers her voice when you begin to pass through the busy halls of the Red Keep. Her expression of concern for your dress skirt getting dirty mirrors a stressed chicken, noisily frantic. You just sigh as she keeps on talking.

Even when you are given free will to wander about as you please, everything feels rather … boring once the splendor of the place begins to wear off. The architecture and luxury is impressive, of course, but how much gold thread and pointed stars can you bask in before you start to long for home again? The faces that greet you and pass by you don’t interest you. You’re selfish with your time. There’s no use entertaining yourself with people that won’t alleviate your anxiety or boredom.

“My lady, you should have stayed and spoken with Prince Aemond,” Jaquetta says, walking a little ways behind you.

You give a dry chuckle. “I’ve got better things to do than that. I’d rather be bored to death. Or go pray at the Sept all day.”

As if you’d want to spend more time with him than you have. Maybe if you prayed to these Gods enough they’d send you back home, but you find that gods tend not to listen to your pleas.

“Prince Aemond is a good prince,” Jaquetta continues. “He is studious, talented in fighting and dedicated to his studies. You have always enjoyed his company so well–”

Her words stop because she’s run into the back of you. You felt the hit but your eyes were trained on someone. A young lady walks across the hall and she is stunning.

“Whoa,” you breathe out as your eyes remain fixed on her. “Who’s that?”

Her silver hair falls past her shoulders, a lone braid framing the top of her head like a crown. You recognize the shade violet that stains her irises, but they look way better on her. Fuck your betrothed. Who gives a fuck about him when there’s pretty girls instaed?

Jaquetta quirks an eyebrow at you before following your eyes and responding, “That is the Princess Helaena Targaryen. You may not remember her since you lost your memories, but you two have been companions since little and– My lady, where are you going?”

Of course, you pick up your dress skirt from off the floor and make your way over to Helaena. Too high for this society’s standards but perfectly comfortable to you (which is all that matters). Jaquetta and Lettice follow after you with their cheeks flushed.

You execute the encounter as perfectly as you do in your head. Every step has a certain charismatic swagger to it as you approach the princess with a wide smile. Your shoes make soft sounds on the floor. Helaena is momentarily pulled away from her embroidery. You spy a pretty design of an insect crawling out of its pupa.

The both of you seem to just stare at each other for a couple of seconds. You beam down at her while she blinks up at you. Then, without another word, you sit down next to her. This seems to make her jump a little, and you make note of that, sliding away from her to give her some space. It doesn’t dampen your enthusiasm.

“Helaena?” You say her name.

A soft smile tugs on her lips. She says ‘your’ name back to you.

“Uh–” You aren’t quite sure. “I’ve been sick for a little bit after … everything, you know, but I’m all better now. Soooo-”

Some kind of glassy look overtakes her eyes. You feel like your heart slows for a moment. It’s suddenly as if she can see through you, into you – almost like Aemond.

“Coin in the waves; heads to tails; tails to heads.” Her voice is a whisper. “The true reflection is on the water.”

Something magical and hidden is woven in her words. Something makes you feel compelled. By what – you know not.

“…Oh.” I mean – what are you even supposed to say to that? “Okay.”

You two stand there in an awkward silence as you both flicker your eyes to the side. You hear Septa Lettice clear her throat behind you. It’s just like you to be so clumsy in front of a pretty girl like this.

“You want to –” Helaena looks up expectantly at you. “Do some … needlework together?”

She smiles, and you feel your heart leap up into your throat.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Helaena’s needlework is beautiful. A lovely image of two flowers sprouting together in full bloom rests gracefully on her cloth. The sound of children babbling a bit and toys clanking against the floor draws your attention away from your messy second attempt at sewing again.

Truthfully, you don’t envy Helaena being a mother already. This body’s original owner and she are the same age. Her children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, are old enough to at least understand when you say certain words to them. Maelor is still a little young. She must have had them young, and while you know it’s a symptom of Westerosi culture, it makes you feel ill regardless. You wonder if the original Lady Durant would have found this equally as repulsive or if she would have bowed her head in acceptance? You won’t accept it, at least.

The children say ‘your’ name as soon as they see you. It’s not who you really are, but you can’t bear to do anything other than pat their heads and play along with them. You see Helaena in them when they look up at you. They’ll definitely be pretty like their mother when they grow up.

You nearly threw up when Jaquetta had informed you that Helaena’s husband was her own elder brother, Aegon. And then you nearly did it again when she told you that it was traditional for House Targaryen to marry close family relations. Sibling marriages are common, and, quite frankly, whatever magical or bloodline related reasoning they can give is not enough to justify literally any of that.

“Sooo–” Your voice disrupts the peace that’s settled in between you and Helaena. “What’s the … gossip? What’s the – What’s the new thing? Since it’s been a bit since we’ve chatted and all that?”

She gives you a momentary look before she thinks. “You’re going to marry Aemond soon.”

You suppress a groan. “Yeah, I guess you’re … happy about that. Right?”

Helaena smiles softly and you feel your heart flutter a bit. “Marriage isn’t so bad. Aemond won’t ignore you. He’ll be nice to you.”

You frown. “He’s ignoring me right now.”

“Aemond was worried about you,” she says. Your hand stops pulling the needle through the fabric. That’s the second person to tell you he was worried.

Helaena sets aside her needlework to give you her full attention. “He just … Sometimes has trouble conveying how he thinks and feels. You’ve always been very mindful of him, though.”

Yeah, the old owner of this body but not you!

“I guess so,” you say, tossing your own needlework on the cushion next to you. “Can’t say my mind is getting any better lately.”

A noise from the children takes your attention away. They’re giving a plate of biscuits being offered by their servant rather disgusted looks.

“What’s going on?” You ask.

The servant regards you with an apologetic expression. “The prince and princess have been having some difficulty eating their snacks lately.”

“They think it doesn’t taste good,” Helaena explains. “The royal kitchen has tried just about everything to please them, but nothing seems to work.”

You’ve got an idea.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They should have known you were up to something when you were being so … compliant. Way too compliant. You excel in your lessons the following two days and spend some time praying like you’re supposed to before you spend the night scribbling furiously down on some paper. You shoo away Jaquetta whenever she inquires about what you’re doing but you unveil everything one day after your lessons. You snatch the papers and gleefully make your way to the royal kitchen, your two companions in tow.

“My lady, a maiden of noble birth like yourself should not be–” Septa Lettice tries to dissuade you as you enter the kitchen with a bit of misplaced swagger but you promptly cut her off with a yell.

“Bring me your ingredients at once!”

The entire kitchen seems to freeze in space before the attendants scramble about to gather everything you wish. They assemble fruit jam, flour, honey, and anything you ask for. If being a future princess grants you this authority, you might consider being nice to Aemond in the future when you see him.

You give a sweeping gaze over the ingredients, putting your hand on your hips. “That’ll do it.”

“My lady,” Jaquetta says, “What do you plan to do?”

“Don’t worry yourself, Jackie,” you respond, washing your hand in some water and covering your hair with a napkin. “Lettie.” Septa Lettice makes a face. “Let me work my magic.”

Despite their anxious words and the annoying way they hover about you, they soon join the growing crowd of kitchen staff that watch you, entranced by your skills. It should be expected, though. Who can beat you when it comes to cooking? Even baking these jam filled cookies for the twins is a piece of cake. If the royal cooks can’t make anything that pleases them, then you definitely can.

You inspect the heat under the baking oven located some ways away from the kitchen. Your eyes trail along the metal of the oven. It shouldn’t be too time consuming to bake the cookies as long as the heat was regulated. With that over, you crack your knuckles and get to work.

You hold your hand out towards the kitchen staff. “Small knife for designing, please.”

“My lady, that is–”

You narrow your eyes. Soon, a small knife is put in your hand and you get to cutting out insect shapes of the cookie dough you prepared. You make two of each design, putting a dollop of the fruit jam mix in the middle of one cut out dough piece and then putting the other on top of it. You make sure to draw each part of the insects with precision – butterfly wings, caterpillar body, beetle legs. Something for both the children and Helaena to enjoy.

“If these are burnt by even a little bit–” You tell the servant that manages the oven, handing over the tray of cookies. You drag your thumb across your neck. “You’re dead, okay? On the future princess’ order.”

He gulps and scurries off.

You nearly trip over your own feet that afternoon when you hurry up the long staircases and through the many hallways of the Red Keep to Queen Alicent’s room. Helaena takes the children there to visit their grandmother, and you’re determined to be there to have them enjoy the treats you’d made.

“Helaena!” You call out to her in a sing-song voice as the servants open the door for you, Jaquetta following behind you with the food and Septa Lettice right behind her (nearly out of breath).

Several eyes fall on you, but any thoughts of shame are pushed aside immediately when you see him there.

You blink. “What are you doing here?”

Aemond regards you with a quick sweep of his single eye. “I came here to see my niece and nephew.”

“…” You narrow your eyes. “Okay.”

You hear Alicent let out a quick sigh before giving you a tired look that has you shrinking a bit. “I see your lessons have given you no progress.”

You flush. Something about disappointing Alicent makes you embarrassed. “No, no. They’ve been going well. I, uh–”

After clearing your throat, you straighten up as you’d been instructed and take those light steps towards Alicent and Helaena, both of whom are sitting on the couch. You give both of them a little curtsy – light like a cloud, your teachers told you. Alicent’s mouth turns upwards, her eyes are expectant. You want to roll yours. You know what she wants.

You swallow your pride and glide across the room towards Aemond, not meeting his eyes. Stopping in front of him, you give him a quick curtsy before grabbing your plate of sweets for Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. The children look up at you as you kneel down beside them.

“Look what your future auntie made you,” you say, holding out the treats for them.

“You made that?” Helaena says, reaching out a hand and plucking a spider shaped cookie.

“Yep, yep!” You nod. “You can have some too. And Her Majesty.” You don’t even bother to look at Aemond. “And His Highness too. If he wants.”

You hear him get up from his seat, the wood creaking beneath him. His boots echo through the sounds of the children munching happily on the cookies as he comes over. You lift your eyebrows in surprise and stand up. He grabs one of the cookies, a butterfly shaped one, and takes a bite.

“…You cook, my lady?” He asks.

“Huh?” You say without a thought. Oh. Right. Maybe you didn’t think about that.

“The servants told me you were in the kitchens yourself,” Alicent adds, and you can already tell this is going to be a battle with the two of them.

You bite back any mean retort you had prepared. “I … wanted to make something for my future little niece and nephew. And as far as cooking, um … “ You shrug, tripping over your words for a moment. “My illness unlocked a new, creative side to me. Like sunshine after the storm.”

Alicent and Aemond look at you like you’ve lost your mind.

Helaena smiles widely. “That’s wonderful. I look forward to what else you will make.”

You smile back at her, showing teeth. Alicent looks ready to protest but you cut her off.

“I’ll make something for Aemond.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself. You look up at him and into his eye, something burning inside you. That same kind of passion that kept you going throughout your life. “Something you’ve never had before.”

“That…” Alicent trails off.

“I look forward to it,” Aemond says.

You don’t know why, but you feel taken off guard by that.

You don’t know why but you toss and turn at night, thinking of what Aemond would enjoy. Food is the way to someone’s soul. You’re not that interested in getting to know Aemond beyond the superficial, but you figured if there’s anyone you need to NOT hate you … it would be Aemond. You don’t care what Helaena or Jaquetta has to say, that kid looks like he could sink a sword in you without so much as breaking a sweat. Besides, it got you out of having to appeal to Alicent to let you in the kitchens again.

You’re not getting out of this marriage. The thought makes you want to sink into the bed and into the darkness even more. Marriage? In this place? Your husband is going to tell you what to do? Why couldn’t you have been sent into the body of a rich widow? Then you’d at least have some money to throw around with no one to tell you what to do with it.

But what are you to cook him? Aside from what others have said to you, you’ve no idea what he likes, and you’d already promised him something new. You use your brain to go through what you know.

“Fighter,” you mumble. “Diligent … Something filling, but not too heavy.”

Perhaps a broth. A broth that’s full of flavor, savory like a victory. With some kick in it. A robust flavor on the tongue with some spices and herbs.

Your eyes pop open as you sit up.

“…Ramen.”

#taoc.#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #slight helaena targaryen x reader #reader is bi and is in love with helaena right now let them have this #pt. 3 we are turning aemond targaryen into a cup ramen lover !!!!

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daddy-dins-girl · 6 months

Text

Playdate - Chapter Three

Y'all asked for it! (bunch of bad influences if you ask me 😛)

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 11.5k (I'M SORRY???!!!)

Chapter Summary: You get needy. Dave gets bossy. Marcus gets stuck in the middle.

Notes: Ok we definitely have to show some love for Marcus in this one since he was left out a fair bit in the last, but not to worry, Dave certainly isn’t going to allow you two to have too much fun without him ;)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Ok here we go... F/M/M threesome. Cucking/Wife sharing. Derogatory Language (in this house we do not apologize for Dave York or his sinful mouth). Orgasm Control/Delay/Denial (Dave is a menace and we don't apologize for that either). Cockwarming. Dry humping. Daddy kink. Praise kink. Soft!Dave York (but rarely). Dom!Dave York (that's more like it). CozyHusband!Marcus Pike (protect your heart, or you'll fall in love). Oral sex (m and f receiving). Rough oral sex. Biting (just one bite). Slaps/spanks/swats (just a few). Sex toys (m and f usage). Anal play/fingering/plug (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Rough P in V sex. Creampie. If I missed anything else I'm sorry but there's a lot... Lmk if you find something!

“Baby?” You whisper into the darkened bedroom, snuggling up a little closer into Marcus’ naked back and he hums affirmatively that he hears you. It's late but you can't sleep. You know you should, since you both have work in the morning but suddenly sleeping seems like such a waste of time when you know there's something so much better you could be doing with your very handsome, very naked husband.

“Are you… awake?” You begin teasingly, your fingers dancing along his side and then smoothing down over his abdomen and retreating lower and lower until you reach his happy trail and tentatively threaten to go lower still.

“Honey,” Marcus groans slightly, his voice thick with sleep. “I have to be up in…” he pauses to look blearily at his watch. “Four hours” he finishes with a deep sigh.

“Four - what? Why?” You immediately question. It wasn’t even quite midnight yet and the two of you typically didn't get up until around 7.

“Conference call. London office” he mumbles into his pillow before nestling further into it. He doesn’t have to turn around and look at you to know you’re pouting behind him and he releases a sigh and rolls over to you anyway.

“I’m sorry” he says genuinely and you frown, feeling guilty for making him feel bad. In his defense, you’ve been exceptionally needy lately and taking it out on him (not that he seemed to mind, however).

“It’s ok baby, I’m sorry. I forgot you had to be up early tomorrow, go to sleep” you tell him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“Maybe um…” Marcus begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why don’t you text Dave, he’s always up late”

“What?!” You ask, taken aback. You had yet to even say one word in your little group chat. So far it had only been Dave and Marcus and even they hadn’t said much. They hadn’t texted at all actually since the last time Dave was over when it was just the two of you a couple weeks back.

“Well we’ve talked about it right, we want to see him again” Marcus reasons with a shrug. “Maybe you should let him know”

It was true, you had discussed it after the last time with Dave and you had both agreed you wanted to try it again, this time with all three of you there. You decided to give it a little bit of time though. For starters you didn't want to seem desperate, and secondly Dave had a life, presumably, that didn't revolve around your and Marcus' eager sex drives.

“Why me?” You ask incredulously.

“I don’t know, just, you haven’t said anything in the chat yet, might be good to let him know that you’re interested too, you know? Let him feel good, let him know you’re thinking about him” Marcus shrugs again.

Part of you does wonder if any of that could be true. Surely Dave had to know you're interested, you thought you'd shown that to him (multiple times, thank you very much Dave). Then again, you had the same doubts yourself before your solo session with Dave, wondering if he was really all that interested in you as he hadn't directly addressed you about it so maybe Marcus was on to something. Besides, everybody likes confirmation, you think. Likes to feel wanted and know they're wanted, that someone is thinking about them.

Yeah, maybe Marcus was right.

“Plus knowing Dave he can probably get you off with a fucking text message, that guy is… I need to start taking notes” Marcus huffs a moment later and that earns a little giggle from you.

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know, something sexy” Marcus says, playful little eyebrow raised at you.

“Hmmm” you think for a moment and Marcus settles again, this time facing you but closing his eyes like he’s at least going to attempt to get some sleep. You roll onto your back and reach for your phone on your night stand and tap it against your chin a few times while you think of something to say and then it comes to you and you quickly open up your group conversation and your fingers fly across the keyboard and hit send before you have time to talk yourself out of it.

Missing my Daddy tonight… wish he was here to tuck me in 🥺

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nerves unsettled as you see the three dots appear on the screen just moments later.

Naughty girl, shouldn’t your husband be doing that?

He’s tired 😞 you quickly type back and you don’t even notice Marcus had reached for his own phone until his message appears on the screen next.

She wore me out, York. I’ve tapped out, need a pinch-hitter here. comes Marcus’ reply and then you look over to see him toss his phone onto his own night stand before he gets comfortable again, places a kiss to your shoulder and murmurs a goodnight, seemingly fine to leave you to your messaging with Dave so he can get some sleep. Not only does he trust you, but regardless he’ll see the messages in the morning.

Ah, a needy little slut then Dave responds and you can see the little smirk that must be on his face right now.

Bet you’re already wet just lyin’ there, huh? Waiting for that needy little hole to be filled up good

“Oh fuck” you whimper softly, suddenly wishing Marcus could be wide awake to take care of you the way you're aching for. As it is you’ll have to do it yourself, though you’re starting to think it won’t be so bad with Dave on the other end of the phone to encourage you. One hand slips under the comforter and smoothes down the plane of your stomach but stops just shy of your waistline and you hastily type into your phone again, best you can one-handed, an idea striking you that you think will get Dave worked up even further which should only work to your benefit, you hope.

May I touch myself, please? you ask sweetly in an attempt to stroke his dominant ego.

Jesus, got two cocks at your disposal and still not enough for ya, huh? Sounds to me like someone needs to learn a lesson in self control

Damnit. Your attempt to get Dave riled up seems to have backfired and now you’re going to be paying the price. Your hand falls away from your waist and comes back up to hold your phone so you’re able to type two-handed once again. You’re about to reply and object to Dave when another message from him pops up before you have a chance.

I think I want you to wait. Both of you, come to think of it. I’m out of town but I’ll be back Sunday. Usual time work for you guys?

Sunday?! It was only Wednesday night now. He expects you to go nearly four days without fooling around with Marcus? That will be nearly the longest you’ve ever gone since you got married three years ago.

Four days... moments ago you were whining that you'd have to wait four hours, in hopes Marcus would have time for a quickie before work, and now you had to wait four days?! You're not sure you can.

Daddy, please you try in a desperate plea.

Argue with me and I’ll make it another week Sweetheart he responds immediately and you pout, despite the fact that he can’t see you.

Besides, good things cum to those who wait 😉 He replies cheekily.

But bad little girls and boys don’t get to cum at all he follows up threateningly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

You’re not sure how Marcus is going to feel about any of this when he sees what transpired while he was asleep, how you’ve accidentally cockblocked him for the rest of the week. But really this was his fault. He told you to text Dave in the first place knowing full well neither of you could ever predict what the man might say or do.

Tell me you understand baby he says when a minute goes by and you’ve left him on read.

I understand 😞 you quickly send back. Yes, Sunday, usual time.

Good girl. Get some sleep. And baby?

Yes?

I wish I was there to tuck you in too 👅😈

You let out a groan at the teasing little tongue emoji he's used (the devil tracks though, you'll give him that), bringing your phone down to clutch at your chest. Of course Dave could simultaneously rev you up and shut you down, the tease. You’re beyond horny now with not only no one to relieve it, but now you’re apparently not even allowed to relieve it yourself. You suppose Dave would never know, but truly the little game excites you and you know it’ll just be that much sweeter a release if you do play along. Marcus may take some convincing. But then again, maybe not. He’s surprised you well enough so far.

The next few days seem to drag on relentlessly. If anything, knowing you can’t get off makes you even more insatiable. Thankfully Marcus seems to be in the same boat so he doesn’t immediately push you off of him when you climb into his lap while he’s watching tv or sitting at his desk in his home office he uses occasionally and the two of you make out like teenagers, pawing at each other over clothes and grinding against one another until you’re breathless.

“He wouldn’t even have to know” Marcus whines into your throat one particularly heated session, the head of his hard cock pressing against you through layers of clothes. He had already managed to get you down to just your t-shirt and underwear as you sat straddling him in his office chair but thankfully he was still confined behind the thick material of his jeans.

“Baby” you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. It was Saturday morning, you could go one more day.

You think…

But then, oh but then, he rocks forward and his clothed cock notches at your entrance, pushing the thin cotton barrier of your panties inside of you along with his tip and your resolve nearly crumbles.

“Oh fuck” you let out in a tiny gasp.

“Let me take care of you Honey, please” Marcus begs, face nuzzled into the side of your neck as his lower half continues to grind against you causing a delicious friction. “I’ll make you feel so good”

You know he would, and you want him to. More than anything. Well, maybe not anything, because what’s playing at the back of your mind is how good it’s going to feel to share this intense relief soon enough not only with Marcus, but with Dave as well. You let out another little whine as Marcus' hands on your hips push you harder into his lap and your eyes slam shut as your resolve threatens to break once and for all.

You hear the clink of Marcus’ belt buckle and your eyes fly open to look down to see him hastily tugging at it and finally your brain catches up to your frantic libido and you put both hands down on his to stop him.

“No, fuck, please” Marcus huffs, forehead coming down to rest against yours as his breath comes out in short puffs, trying to get himself under control. He knows he almost had you.

“Baby, I really want to, you know I do” you begin, softly assuring him and rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “But just think how amazing tomorrow night is going to be. It’s what I want, for both of us and… I thought you did too” you try, a little pout on your lips.

“Fuck” Marcus curses, removing his hands from his belt to grab the sides of your face and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry baby.” He continues a moment later. “I wanna give you what you want, of course I do. It’s just hard. Like… really fucking hard” he emphasizes his point by rutting against you once more and you laugh.

“For me too baby” you promise him, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you snuggle your face into his shoulder.

And it was. Torturous, even. Men can whine all they want about blue balls and about how much harder it is for them, but you know full well in this moment you're giving Marcus a run for his money for sure.

“I haven’t wanted you this bad since our third date” you confess and that catches his attention. He lifts your chin to look at you.

“We didn’t have sex until our fifth date” he reminds you.

“Oh, I’m well aware” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “Could've had me on our third” you shrug innocently and his eyebrows shoot up.

“At the museum?!” he asks, shocked, as he recalls your third date together.

“Plenty of dark corners” you shrug mischievously. “I would’ve let you” you tease, a grin crossing your lips and he huffs a breath and lets his head fall back.

“Jesus, if you’re trying to get me to not fuck you right now, this is not the way to do it” he groans and you let out a laugh but decide to let him somewhat out of his misery and push yourself up out of his lap and shimmy back into your earlier discarded leggings.

“Make you a deal,” you say suddenly, an idea coming to mind. His attention seems peaked as he straightens back up in his chair and leans forward slightly.

“If we can restrain from driving each other crazy the rest of the day, we can reward ourselves by going to sleep with you inside me again” you propose, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Oh my god” Marcus groans, rubbing his hands over his face and you smirk. You knew he loved that the first time you’d done it. You’re not sure how it’s going to go this time though, given how close to the edge you’ve both already been for days but you want to try. You hadn't done it again since the first time, when you were too worn out to do much more than hold him inside you. Anytime he'd been inside you since then you'd both been far too ravenous to even consider it but tonight seems like a promising opportunity to try again. You just hope you can both handle it.

“Now go cut the grass or check the chemical levels in the hot tub or I don’t know, go to Home Depot, whatever the fuck you men do on Saturdays to keep yourselves occupied and your minds out of the gutter” you tease, swatting at his shoulder and he catches your hand and pulls it to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

“Fine, evil woman” he sighs and you giggle. “Last time I ever encourage you to text with Dave again without supervision” you hear him grumble under his breath as he gets out of his chair and places his hands on your hips to push you out of the room with him, your laughter at his playfulness following you out into the hallway.

Thankfully you both manage to keep busy with little chores and errands throughout the day and when he finally sinks inside of you that night it’s like all the pressure of the world is off your shoulders and nothing else exists but the two of you. You’re surprised and yet not that he behaves himself and doesn’t try and move or fuck you. Just stays buried inside you with his face in your neck, breathing you in and whispering little adorations against your skin while he plants tiny kisses there and you sigh as your arms wrap around his at your waist until you both fall asleep.

You wake up the next morning to a note on the empty pillow beside you, informing you that Marcus has gone for a run, and that tracks for him. Typically when he’s stressed he runs and the way you’ve had each other worked up the last few days you won’t doubt if he sets a personal record for distance today. You sit up in bed and reach for your phone to check your notifications and see a message alert for your group chat with you Marcus and Dave and you don’t fail to notice how your heart beat speeds up instinctively before you’ve even opened it.

You press down on the notification and hold your breath when the page opens up.

Hope you two have been behaving yourselves because if you think this is punishment, you haven’t seen anything yet.

His vague threat hangs in the air and sends heat straight to your lower abdomen and you wiggle slightly in your seated position on the bed.

Marcus had replied with a single emoji that made you laugh out loud.

🫡

You pull your lip between your teeth, debating writing a reply. You want to, but you don’t need any more encouragement for your aching and needy cunt. Your fingers hover over the keys for several long moments until you finally think 'fuck it’ and type out a response anyway.

Being so good for my Daddy 😇

With that you toss your phone onto the bed and head off to the bathroom.

It’s a cold shower kind of morning.

The rest of the day goes by mostly uneventfully. You’ve taken some of the edge off with your cold shower and Marcus with his run and you’re both seemingly able to function again as real human beings and not horny teenagers ramped up on hormones. You go out for brunch together, then the farmers market and finally a pit stop at your favorite coffee shop before heading home to bide your time until Dave comes over.

By the time dinner is over you’re both checking your watches nearly every five minutes while you snuggle up on the couch watching tv, pretending not to notice when either of you does it until finally it hits 9:00 and a shudder of anticipation rolls through you. Marcus sits up a little straighter, smoothing his hands over his thighs and releasing a deep breath and you pull your legs up under you and reach for your wine glass to take another tentative sip to calm your nerves.

In the past Dave had been extremely punctual, but tonight, of course tonight, he was not.

Minutes tick by and you’ve already refilled your wine glass and Marcus’ for another while you wait impatiently. Finally both your phones ding at the same time and it’s comical the way you both scramble for the two devices lying on the coffee table, eager to read the message.

Sorry, flight was a little delayed getting in, set me back a few minutes. Leaving my place now. Why don’t you two start warming each other up, I’ll be there soon. Don’t have too much fun without me though.

You and Marcus both share a look before Marcus types out a quick reply, giving Dave the door code and telling him to let himself in when he gets here and then he’s up off the couch and a you shriek in surprise when he hauls you up as well, grabbing one of your arms and legs and tossing you over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry and practically running to the stairs.

“Oh my god, Marcus!” You’re giggling uncontrollably at his eagerness as he bounds up the stairs to your bedroom. He reaches the top of the stairs and to your very delighted surprise he lands a little swat to your ass and you jerk in his arms.

“Baby,” you whine. The giggles are gone in an instant, your voice breathy and trembling.

He eases you down his front until your legs wrap around his waist and he kisses you deeply as he walks you into the bedroom, holding you up at the end of the bed before unceremoniously tossing you onto the mattress and your giggles are back at his edgy playfulness.

He’s still standing and he reaches behind him to tug his shirt up and over his head before he kneels down on the mattress, crawling over you like a predator stalking its prey and forcing you to lie down underneath him.

“Baby, holy shit, you’re so fucking hot right now” you praise him, bringing a hand up to push through his hair and you don’t miss the blush that rises in his cheeks. He’s trying, and he wants this, but you know he’s still a little outside of his comfort zone to be dominant towards you so you try to make sure you constantly reassure him.

“Yeah?” He asks shyly and you nod your head enthusiastically.

“See for yourself” you challenge, taking his hand and putting it between your bodies and sliding it down, down, down.

“Fuck” Marcus huffs, pushing his hand down inside your shorts and underwear until his fingers are met with the sticky mess between your legs. “Goddamn, I love how wet you get” he hums against the side of your face, trying to control his breathing.

“I love how wet you make me” you counter and he groans before kissing you hard, unsure how much more of you talking like this to him he can take if he’s still got to have some semblance of control of himself until Dave gets here.

“Fuck, let me go down on you, please” Marcus begs between heated kisses, his fingers deftly exploring you below and you let out a whine but shake your head.

“Baby, I’ll cum, fuck, I can’t” you shake your head again. Your hands come to clutch in his hair as his fingers continue to lazily stroke you and your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, desperate to chase his touch.

“I can’t wait any longer” Marcus argues weakly. “Please Honey” he pleads and you don’t know if you can take it anymore but you're pretty sure the moment his tongue hits your aching core you'll fall apart instantly. You're dangerously close already and he's barely done anything.

“Fuck” you sob. You’re going to break, you know it. But you’re only human and you fucking tried, nobody can argue that. Your soft moans and whimpers fill the otherwise silent room as Marcus' mouth slowly transcends down your body until he's at your waist, hands at your hips with the material of your shorts in his grasp and he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes of his, silently asking for permission and you feel the last ounce of your resolve finally crumble. You need this, and one little firm nod of your head towards Marcus can get it for you.

Before you have a chance to give in, however, you hear the distinct sound of a throat clearing that isn’t you or Marcus and you push away from each other like you’d just been burned.

You both turn onto your backs, propped up on elbows and look dead on to the source of a good portion of the reason for your pent up sexual frustration, the one and only Dave York. He’s standing at the end of the bed, casually rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“What did I say about having too much fun without me?”

“We weren’t - we didn’t - Daddy please, we waited, just like you said” you blurt out hurriedly in a weak attempt to explain. Thank god he hadn't walked in thirty seconds later, you think idly.

“We were just… playing” you shrug, feigning innocence.

“Mmm” Dave hums, seemingly mulling over whether or not he believes you. His gaze darts over to Marcus whose erection is straining against his sweatpants and then back to you, squirming under his gaze in your tank top and soft cotton shorts.

“She telling the truth, Pike?” Dave asks, turning his head back to Marcus who nods his head.

“I’ll admit, I tried” Marcus confesses, turning to look at you. “She um,” he begins and you can hear the nerves in his voice. You turn your head to look at him and see his cheeks burning bright crimson. You put a hand on his leg to reassure him.

“She was a good girl for you” he finally lets out and you smile at him, giving his thigh muscle a little squeeze of encouragement.

“Hmm” Dave shrugs, processing the information. “I honestly didn’t think you'd last twelve hours, let alone four days. Color me impressed Sweetheart”

His praise makes your whole body flush with warmth and without giving it another thought you get up onto your knees and crawl down to the end of the bed before him, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck.

“Do we get our rewards now?” You ask sweetly, eyelashes batting up at him and the corner of his lip curls into a dangerous smirk.

“Here’s the thing Sweetheart,” Dave begins, reaching behind him to grab your hands and pull them away from his neck and you frown, already worried about where this is going.

“You, I’m not so worried about. You could come a dozen fucking times and still beg for more but Marky Mark over here” he continues, his head turning slightly to look at Marcus. “Well, we already know from past experience he needs a lesson in common courtesy”

“Oh fuck” you hear Marcus groan as he collapses back onto the pillows and runs his hands through his hair.

Dave is of course referring to the time when Marcus had jerked off in the chair when you had been fooling around with Dave on the bed the first night you met and Dave had admonished him about orgasming before you did.

“Now, while I do admire your stamina Pike,” Dave continues, acknowledging that Marcus had after a while managed to get himself readied for action again. “I’m still a very firm believer in ladies first” he comments, looking back at you with a sly grin.

“And to be honest, I don’t trust you” he shrugs. “You look like a fucking geyser ready to blow”

He's not wrong, you think to yourself but don't say out loud.

“Pun intended” he adds a moment later.

“So,” he trails off as he bends down to pick up a bag off the floor you hadn’t noticed earlier (which in turn just makes you wonder how long exactly had he been standing there watching the two of you. You idly wonder if he had really even been running late or was he just waiting outside wanting the two of you to squirm).

He stands upright again and pulls a small box out of the bag and tosses it to Marcus who scrambles to catch it and your eyes are locked on your husband, as curious as he is to see what’s in his hands.

“Shit” he grumbles, turning the box in his hands and you crawl over to him, kneeling at his side and grab for the box to inspect it.

Oh.

EDGE. Maximum Control Adjustable Stamina Ring

Your fingers trace the words on the unassuming dark blue box and you bite your lip.

Dave bought your husband a goddamn cock ring. Your cunt clenches down around nothing as arousal floods you all over again. You don’t know why, but this is one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to you.

You take a breath, reigning yourself back in as you steady yourself and lock your gaze onto Marcus. Toys for you were one thing, you had already acknowledged that you were fine with it, but you hadn't discussed any of that for Marcus and the last thing you want is for him to be uncomfortable (or rather, more uncomfortable than what he's already agreed to).

“You okay?” you ask, barely above a whisper, meant only for Marcus to hear and thankfully he nods his head and pushes himself up so he’s seated with his back against the headboard.

“Fuck. Yeah, yeah I think so” he says between short breaths and you crawl onto his lap and kiss him. It’s slow and romantic, despite the fact that you’re clutching onto a sex toy that your shared lover just brought over. You pour everything you have into the kiss, letting him know without words how much you love him and how much he means to you. You continue kissing, neither of you noticing how the mattress dips behind you under Dave’s weight until you feel arms wrap around your middle that you know aren’t your husbands because his are smoothing up and down your thighs that are straddling his hips.

You lean back from Marcus and your back hits Dave’s hard chest as you realize he’s kneeled behind you and his hands go to your waist to tug at the hem of your tank.

“Take this off baby” Dave mumbles into your ear and you quickly oblige him, pulling the garment up and over your head and tossing it aside, leaving your top half bare as you’d decided to go braless tonight.

“Good girl” Dave praises, hands back at your waist and Marcus is practically trembling in front of you, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he watches the other mans large hands roaming your body. Dave was right, he does look like a geyser about to blow.

“Put it on him” Dave instructs next and Marcus quickly reaches down to shove his sweats down to his thighs, his cock springing free before your eyes, hard and positively leaking for you. Apparently he had decided he's more than fine with what was happening and you're thankful for that.

You feel Dave’s hand in yours and look down to see that he’s wrapped your slender fingers around a small bottle of lube and you pop the lid open to squeeze a few drops into your hands. Dave takes the box from your other hand and rips it open, passing it back to you and then settling his chin on your shoulder so he has an unimpaired view of what you’re about to do.

“Oh shit” Marcus’ eyes close tight as you wrap your oiled hand around his length and give him a few practiced strokes, lathering him up with the lubricant before taking a few more drops from the bottle and significantly coating the thin black silicone contraption that’s in your other hand.

"Good baby?" You ask one final time, just to be sure and Marcus gives an enthusiastic nod behind closed eyes.

You position the large opening over his erection and bring it down to his base and then pull the drawstring until it's tight, giving the end a little tug to be sure it's secure but not too tight and Marcus twitches in your hand.

“I’m a little jealous Pike” Dave remarks casually from over your shoulder while you continue to lazily stroke Marcus. “You’re probably about to have the best orgasm of your life”

“Oh fuck” Marcus groans, head falling back to smack loudly against the headboard.

“But, gotta take care of our girl here first” he continues and now it's your turn to turn bright red.

Our girl.

It sends a little shockwave down your spine and you shudder.

“How do you want him to make you cum baby?” Dave whispers sinfully into your ear before lathing around the edge of it with his tongue.

“His mouth” you answer far too quickly. You’ve had days to think about how you wanted to finally cum and the answer in your head was always the same; by Marcus’ skilled tongue.

“Thought you’d say that” you feel Dave smirk against your cheek. “You wanna sit on his face?” Dave asks and as much as that definitely tempts you, you shake your head.

“Want you to hold me, play with me” you whimper, taking one of his hands in yours and bringing it up to cup your breast. Having both of their attention on you at once was definitely high up there on your list of fantasies and you wanted to take advantage of it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Yeah you do, such a good fucking girl” Dave growls before he pushes back from you and snaps his fingers at Marcus.

“Up” he commands and Marcus scrambles immediately, making room so Dave can take his position, your hand falling away from his throbbing member in the process.

You and Marcus are both up on your knees in the middle of the bed, half naked while Dave sits fully clothed comfortably seated in with his back against the headboard. You shuffle closer to Marcus and he takes your face in his hand and kisses you, moaning into your mouth as he practically swallows you whole. Your breathing is heavy as you meld into his mouth and let him take control of the kiss, his tongue probing deeper inside and tangling with yours until you're both breathless and you regretfully pull apart.

“Take these off” he whispers, tugging at your shorts and you oblige him, pulling them down along with your underwear and Marcus helps you out of them before you do the same for him and you're both fully bare.

“Lay down honey” Marcus instructs and you nod your head weakly, crawling over to Dave and turning in his lap so you're seated between his bent legs, your back to his chest and hands resting on his knees because you have a feeling you’re about to need something to hold on to. Dave’s hands come down to start kneading at your shoulders and your head falls back to rest against him. Only in your wildest fantasies had you ever thought you’d have two men showering you with attention at the same time and it was absolutely everything. Dave’s masculine scent assaults your senses as you snuggle further into him, eyes closed as you feel Marcus lower himself to lie down between your spread legs and run his hands up your thighs.

“All right Pike, put this little bitch in heat out of her misery” Dave sneers against your ear and a shiver rakes down your body as your hands clutch tighter to his knees.

Marcus, thank God, doesn’t waste another moment and lowers his head between your legs to lick a broad stripe up your center with the flat of his tongue and a loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly came already at the first press of his mouth to your heat.

Dave’s hands drift from the tops of your shoulders down to your breasts, gently kneading them in his large hands and then he takes one pert bud between his thumb and index finger and squeezes, pulling on it just hard enough that it edges that fine line between pleasure and pain and you cry out.

“Oh you like that” Dave chuckles from behind you. And fuck he's right, you absolutely love it.

“Like it a little rough from your Daddy while your sweet boytoy licks between your legs huh?” he’s growling now into your ear and your eyes shut as you nod your head. Marcus is expertly teasing you down below, his tongue swirling your clit before pushing back through your folds and then nuzzling his whole face into you and your hips chase the pressure of the mouth.

“Answer me” Dave barks, landing a harsh swat to your already overly sensitive nipple and your body jerks in response.

“Fuck, yes, I love it Daddy. Oh fuck” you whine, desperately writhing between the two men who are pulling you apart piece by piece.

Dave doesn’t give you any reprieve, just lowers his head to your throat and bites down, causing you to cry out before he soothes over it with his tongue and sucks the flesh into his mouth and it mirrors the way Marcus sucks your tender pearl into his mouth and you instantly fall apart, not able to hold on any longer.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck fuck fuck!” You cry out, shaking in Dave’s arms, clutching desperately to him while you ride out your orgasm and Marcus laps up every drop of your rush of arousal. You look down to where Marcus is between your legs and see that his right hand has disappeared somewhere between his body and the mattress and you don't have to guess where. He's moaning as he continues licking into you like a man possessed who simply can't be stopped and your hand comes down to grip in his hair, forcing his face to stay buried in your cunt while your other arm reaches behind you to secure Dave to your throat.

"Fuck, again. Give her another" Dave demands of Marcus who groans into your throbbing center and nods his head dutifully as he doubles his efforts with his tongue, working your clit even faster before he plunges two fingers inside of you. You hadn't even had a chance to reel back from your last orgasm before Marcus is pushing you towards another. He knows your body too well. Where to press, where to lick, kiss, apply pressure. He plays you like a fine tuned instrument while Dave continues his assault on you from above and it's not long before you're wailing out in pleasure a second time as Dave murmurs over and over in your ear what a 'good girl' you are.

“Oh my god, oh my god” you’re panting heavily, trying desperately to catch your breath and calm your racing heart as you come down from your high. Dave has switched to soft kisses and licks to your neck while Marcus still languidly licks your folds, moaning into you as he tastes your release on his tongue.

“Marcus, come here” you say suddenly, waving your arm out in an attempt to reach for him. Marcus gets up to his knees and shuffles forward and you grab for him and kiss him hard, moaning into his mouth when you taste yourself on him. He pulls back when the lack of oxygen forces him to and to your surprise he grips the bottom of your chin and turns your head to Dave and you take the hint and plunge forward to kiss him as well, letting Dave have a taste of your long awaited release.

“Tastes so much sweeter when it’s earned baby girl” Dave smirks against your lips once he’s pulled back.

“And how’s our boy doing?” He asks next and both you and Dave turn your heads to Marcus who’s sitting back on his heels now with his hand wrapped around the base of his dick, precum leaking steadily from the head that looks red and angry.

“Barely hanging on here” Marcus admits breathlessly, the little toy wrapped around him restricting his blood flow and maximizing his pleasure to unprecedented heights.

“Go on baby, go give him some relief, he’s earned it” Dave tells you before landing a little swat to the side of your hip and you too get up on your knees and lean down onto your elbows, placing your hands on Marcus’ hips as your mouth envelops his throbbing cock. You should probably be a little embarrassed that your ass and cunt are on full display inches from Dave’s face the way you’re bent over Marcus with him behind you, but you’re so worked up that you don’t give it a second thought and pour all of your attention into Marcus.

“Oh shit. Fuck!” Marcus’ eyes close and his head falls back while his hand comes to play with your hair, brushing it away from your face as you bob up and down on his length, messy strings of saliva following the path of your mouth. You make sure to kiss, lick and suck on every inch of him, worshiping his cock and murmuring breathlessly about how much you’ve missed it and you hear the tiniest whimper of 'oh fuck' from him above you. You moan into him when you suddenly feel Dave’s hands gripping at your ass, spreading you open and Marcus’ head shoots forward again to see what he’s missing that’s got you doubling your efforts around his already leaking dick, taking him hard and fast down your throat.

“Oh my god, she likes that” Marcus smiles widely, fighting desperately to keep his eyes open while you swallow down his cock with renewed enthusiasm at whatever Dave is doing behind you.

“Course she does, dirty little slut” Dave huffs, planting little kisses to both of your cheeks while he continues massaging them in his hands and you moan again into Marcus, taking one hand from his hip to wrap it around whatever part of him your mouth can’t reach.

“Oh shit, fuck, keep playing with her ass” Marcus begs, and you’re not sure who sounds more wrecked right now, you or him as you moan wantonly into his groin. You’ve never heard Marcus talk like that either and it turns you on even further.

You jerk forward slightly in surprise when you feel something cold hit the soft flesh of your ass and dribble down between your cheeks and then you have to pull your mouth off of Marcus as a loud groan escapes you when you feel it warming up when Dave’s finger chases the path of the lube that slides down your crack. Your whole body tenses up in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, his one hand smoothing over your left check while his other swirls a finger teasingly around your puckered entrance. “Focus back on Marcus, take that cock back into your mouth baby” Dave instructs softly and you let out a little whine but obey, putting your mouth back on Marcus and your husband reaches down and places his hand on the back of your head, not forcing you closer, just holding you there and letting you know he’s with you, gently massaging the back of your head.

"Oh my god baby" Marcus whines like he's physically pained by how much pleasure he's receiving and you hum around his cock, sending little vibrations through it and a slew of curse words leave his mouth.

“Mmmmnnnffff!” you moan into Marcus as the tip of Dave’s single digit finally passes the threshold and dips just inside of you, gently working in and out and around. He’s barely past his fingernail but even that is more than you’ve ever had back there before and the new sensation has you reeling as a pressure builds up you’ve never felt before. You focus on Dave’s words though and keep your attention on Marcus the best you can, swallowing around his cock and taking him as deep as your throat allows until you feel his hips gently thrusting into your mouth and you moan and nod your head for him to keep doing that.

“Yeah, fuck her throat, little whore fucking loves it” Dave snarls and it spurs Marcus on, his grip on the back of your head a little tighter as he pistons his hips back and forth. It's not near as forceful as when Dave has done it to you, but it's certainly taking all the work away from you. It's a blessing because your concentration on blowing him was completely shot the moment Dave pressed his finger inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You suddenly rip your mouth away from Marcus when you feel a hand between your legs, fingers circling your oversensitive clit and at this point you’re not even sure whose hand it is and you don’t care either. You're on the brink of orgasm once again.

“Honey please, god I’m so close. Fuck, don't stop” you hear Marcus whining above you and suddenly Dave’s finger pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty and he lands a sharp little smack to your ass.

“Nobody likes a cocktease, don’t be a brat” You hear Dave seethe from behind you and feel a hand clamp down on your mound and squeeze and you quickly realize it was Dave’s fingers that were pleasuring you just moments ago that have now stopped entirely. You hadn't meant to stop pleasing Marcus but you only have so much concentration when the familiar waves of an encroaching orgasm sneak up on you like that.

“Keep it up and you don’t get to cum again” he threatens and you know he’s serious. Your mouth is back on Marcus in an instant, sucking and stroking him with renewed enthusiasm and Dave’s hands leave you all together to drop down at his sides so he doesn’t further distract you. It's probably for the best. Certainly in Marcus' best interest anyway.

“Oh my god baby, yes” Marcus encourages you as you bob up and down on him, taking him as deep as you can and holding until you gag before you pull back up to take a breath but continue working him with your hand, paying special attention to his head as you rapidly stroke and squeeze him.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” Marcus warns and before you even have a chance to wrap your mouth back around him, he does. Hot spurts shooting up to cover his stomach as you continue to jerk him until there’s nothing left and he falls back to sit on his heels again.

“Holy shit” Marcus exclaims, chest heaving. “Fucking hell baby” he breathes before he lunges forward to kiss you harshly. It’s all teeth and tongue and frantic and uncontrolled, not like how Marcus typically kisses you and you’re smiling against his lips, knowing you’ve just absolutely rocked his world.

He releases you and then reaches down to his slick cock, pulling the tie loose so he can pull it over his dick and toss it off to the side of the bed, hands coming down to his thighs as he takes deep steadying breaths.

“That was… Jesus” he trails off, shaking his head, chest heaving with his efforts to breathe.

“I love you baby” you tell him, pushing forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too” he breathes. “Fuck, I think I love you too York, Jesus fucking christ” he jokes, running his hands through his hair and you laugh out loud.

“Who knew Dave was such a talented gift giver” you tease, turning back to look at Dave who’s smirking behind you and simply shrugs his shoulders like he’s got lots of secrets about him you simply haven’t discovered yet.

“I have to go clean up” Marcus announces, looking down at the mess he’s made of himself. “You can um, thank Dave for me honey” he winks at you before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead and then he’s pushing away from you and gets off the bed and wanders off towards the ensuite.

You turn over so you’re facing Dave and push his knees down and he brings his legs together so you can settle down over top of them, sitting on his thighs. You can see the outline of his length underneath the dark material of his pants and you know he’s hard. You shuffle forward just slightly and bring your hands to his shirt and start popping the buttons open one by one until his shirt falls open and you’re able to rake your fingernails down his chest. You turn your head as you hear the shower come to life a few feet away from you and then turn back to Dave and lift your shoulders in a small shrug.

“I am under strict orders from my husband to thank you” you say teasingly, pushing the shirt down his shoulders and surprisingly he lets you. His gaze is locked on yours as he watches your meticulous movements, pulling the shirt completely free from him and then bringing your hands to his belt next and pulling it free.

Once his pants are open he helps you by lifting his hips and pushing them down his legs along with his boxers and you pull them completely free from him until he’s naked beneath you. You haven’t seen him like this since your first time together. Even when he’d fucked you the last time he kept his clothes on. You take a moment to appreciate his body, fingers trailing from his broad shoulders down a hard chest wall to a slightly softer middle and then tapered waist. Marcus was a little more fit, more defined, but Dave was definitely bigger, larger and you held an appreciation for both their body types.

Your gaze comes back up to find his locked onto you and you feel suddenly shy that you were all but just ogling his body. He doesn’t let your nerves linger though, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you forward and kisses you, soft and deep, tongue dancing gently with yours and you hum a content little sigh into his mouth.

“So,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back just slightly. “How would you like your payment?”

Dave gives you a mischievous little grin, his hands smoothing over the soft skin of your lower back as he gestures with a nod of his head towards the end of the bed.

“Why don’t you go see what other gifts Daddy brought in his bag of tricks, hmm?” he tells you and you waste no time scurrying off to the end of the bed to grab for the discarded discreet little black bag from earlier.

You hold open the bag and peak inside and bite your lip when you see what’s waiting for you, reaching inside to grab the soft pink object and pulling it out to inspect it in your hands.

“It’s brand new. I just cleaned it, you know, beforehand” Dave explains. You’d seen the empty packaging sitting in the bottom of the bag too so you knew you didn’t have to worry.

“How efficient of you” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re glad he thought of it too, so you don’t have to sit for god knows how long while you wash it and wait for it to properly dry.

“Told you I’d get you a toy baby. You like it?” Dave asks as your fingers trace the delicate shape of the silicone plug in your hand. It’s about three inches long, the tip is rounded and tapered to be a bit slimmer than its long neck, then there’s a narrow stem followed by a flared base. You look back over to Dave and crawl back over to him, settling in his lap and kissing him soundly. Your nerves are skyrocketing again and you need to just be anchored for a moment. Part of you wishes Marcus was here to do that for you but you can still hear the shower running, as it hasn’t been that long.

Dave thankfully senses your anxiety and he slowly smoothes his hands up and down your arms and your sides as he continues kissing you, seemingly fine with letting you take all the time you need until you’re ready and you have to say, that might be one of the most amazing things about Dave. He definitely has his rough, dominant side but he still manages to make you feel safe at the same time, like you know if you really didn’t like something or want him to stop, he would. And he also seems to just have a sixth sense for your body already. He knows when he can push you and when he needs to pull back and you’re beyond grateful for it. Although you had initially wanted all this and to explore these things, a lot of it was still new territory for you and Dave treated it as such while maintaining this balance of having a hint of softness with you when you needed it, and showing you no mercy when you didn’t.

“You ok?” Dave asks after a couple minutes of kissing and touching, after he’d finally felt your shoulders settle as you sunk further into his lap and his embrace.

“Yeah, I think so” you nod your head.

“It’s just practice baby” Dave assures you, knowing you’re not ready to take him back there yet. Thankfully though you had been somewhat prepared, knowing this might be coming tonight as he had mentioned it last time. You spent a little bit of time online researching and made sure you knew how to properly prepare and clean yourself so you wouldn’t have any embarrassing messes. That had been part of your biggest fear about the whole thing, secondary only to how much it could actually hurt but the more you had read about it calmed some of your nerves. Most articles mentioned that as long as you or your partner took it slow it could be quite pleasurable and though you barely knew him, you did trust that Dave has no interest in hurting you and he seems pretty well versed in every aspect of the bedroom play you’ve tried so far so you’re confident he knows what he’s doing.

“Um, by the way, before we do anything…” You begin, remembering something you had wanted to bring up with Dave but seemed like too intimate a conversation for a group text message. “I just wanted to mention, and, I know the first time was like an accident and if anything my fault, but um…” you trail off again, nervously wringing your hands together and Dave’s hands come down to still them, holding them in his firm grasp and he looks you in the eyes.

“What is it, you can tell me. If I did something that you weren’t okay with…”

“No” you shake your head immediately. “It’s not anything like that, it's just… Well, Marcus and I, we’re not exactly you know trying, but we’re not not trying for a baby. We just kinda figured if it happens it happens and, I just, well I’m not like on any birth control so…” you trail off again, Dave’s single nod letting you know he gets where you’re going. You can’t have him cumming inside you and potentially complicating anything between you and Marcus. You’ve been not not trying for a little over a year now and it hadn’t happened yet and neither of you are sure if it ever will but having Dave in the mix now you just need to be careful. The first time he was inside you he didn’t pull out, though in his defense you nearly forced it out of him the way you were sitting on top of him and your orgasm came hard and fast out of nowhere, you could hardly blame Dave. The second time you’d been with him he had pulled out, despite you not discussing it first and you were grateful for that.

“Of course, I understand” Dave nods his head. “And uh, for whatever peace of mind it’s worth, after my girls I had a vasectomy so… no worries here”

“Oh, good” you sigh with relief. You’ve had a period since your first encounter with Dave so you weren’t worried yet anyway but it’s nice to know you don’t have to worry at all anymore. You also knew that Dave had a clean bill of sexual health too, as him and Marcus had discussed it before your initial meeting so now you knew you were covered on all bases and free to do as you pleased. And you intended to do just that.

“But I mean I wouldn’t, you know, normally, unless you wanted me to” he explains and you feel your cheeks heating again. You’re sitting here naked in Dave’s lap discussing whether or not he’s going to cum inside of you while your husband takes a shower in the next room.

“You just let me know baby” he winks at you, settling your nerves again and pulling you back in for a quick kiss.

“Lie down on your back” he instructs a moment later and you crawl off his lap and lay down on your back in the middle of the bed.

Dave gets up on his knees and makes his way between your spread legs and grabs for the toy in your hand and the discarded bottle of lube on the mattress from earlier. You take a deep breath as Dave also grabs for a pillow and fixes it under your hips to elevate you off the mattress slightly.

Before things have a chance to go any further however, Marcus emerges from the bathroom, a billowing cloud of steam following after him as he wanders back into the bedroom, towel secured low on his hips.

“Hey” he greets a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Dave’s completely naked on his knees between your legs while you lay there spread eagle with your head down at the foot of the bed near close enough to be hanging off of it. It must be a sight for your poor husband.

He looks over at Dave and sees the little pink toy in his hand and though he’s never personally used one either he knows exactly what it is and he swallows the little lump in his throat. You had told Marcus what Dave had said to you last time and told him that you were excited but nervous about it and Marcus had encouraged you to try it if it was something you wanted.

“Just in time for the big show” Dave announces to Marcus, tossing a wink towards your husband who lets out a small laugh, thankful that somebody was able to break the tension in the room. Of course it was Dave.

“I um, I don’t have to stay…” Marcus says, looking at you now and shrugging his shoulders. He’s not sure if you’d be more or less comfortable with him there and you’re not either but at the end of the day Marcus is calming and you know that’s what you need right now.

“Stay” you answer a little too quickly, reaching out at him with grabby hands like a needy toddler and he chuckles but walks over to the end of the bed, grabs each of your hands in one of his and kneels down on the floor behind your head.

“Second best view in the house” Dave winks again at Marcus and now it’s your turn to laugh at how strange this whole situation is. Marcus may calm you but Dave calms the entire room, doesn’t let the awkwardness or tension linger and it’s exactly what both you and Marcus need.

“Ready?” Dave asks and you nod your head quickly.

“Mmm hmm” you say, sounding uneasy even to your own ears. You do want this, but you can’t help that you’re nervous.

“Hey,” Marcus’ soft voice says from above you and you tilt your head back to look up at him and he gives you a warm smile.

“Spiderman kiss” he smirks and you let out a little laugh but tilt your head back a little further and he brings his down until your lips meet in an upside down kiss. You’re both smiling like idiots the entire time your lips meld together.

Neither of you see Dave watching the sweet and intimate interaction, nor do you know the slight pang of jealousy he feels in his chest at how much love the two of you have for each other that he’s never known himself.

Marcus pulls back from the kiss and you bring your head back up to rest on the mattress as your attention goes back to Dave who’s now thoroughly slicking up the small pink toy in his hands before squeezing some extra lubricant onto his fingers and finally between your cheeks. A shudder racks your body when you feel his fingers trace your entrance, spreading the oily slick around everywhere to ensure you’re prepared and then he brings the toy down and notches it at your puckered hole.

“Go slow” you say, taking a steadying breath and Dave nods at you, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh reassuringly.

“I’ve got you” he promises.

You squeeze Marcus’ hands a little tighter and he bends down to kiss your forehead but his gaze is trained on what’s happening at the opposite end of the bed where Dave slowly begins feeding the toy inside you until the tip finally pushes past the tight ring of muscle and your hips lift off the bed slightly.

“Ohhhhh” you moan loudly once it’s nestled just inside you and Dave is grinning at you from between your legs.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me baby” he praises. “Fuck, look at you” he says, a little breathless and it turns you on knowing how much he likes it. The way Marcus grips your hands even tighter lets you know he doesn’t mind it much either.

“Does it feel good baby?” Marcus’ voice is suddenly in your ear and you close your eyes, nodding your head. There’s pressure, but a good kind of pressure and it doesn’t hurt like you feared it might.

“Just a little bit more, you still OK?" Dave asks and you nod again. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings his thumb still slicked with the lubricant down to rub small circles on your clit and a little sob escapes you.

“Yeah, that’s it, fuck” Dave curses, slowly and cautiously prodding the toy a little further while he stimulates the bundle of nerves between your legs and you’re whining and mewling underneath him, silently begging for more. You feel the round base rest against your ass and you let out a loud moan, knowing it’s all the way inside of you now and Dave’s hand that was feeding you the toy comes to rest on your hip and gives it a small squeeze.

“Good fucking girl” he growls as his thumb continues working your clit and you’re writhing on the mattress, rocking your hips into the pressure of his hand.

“Oh my god baby” Marcus groans. His hands leave yours but reach forward so he can grab both your breasts in his hands and knead them in his palms, his mouth going to your throat to kiss and lick every inch he can reach. “You’re so fucking hot” he mumbles between kisses.

Dave’s hand leaves your sex and you’re about to whine in complaint but then he’s grabbing both of your legs and pulling them straight up in the air and letting them rest on his shoulders as he shuffles forward on his knees and suddenly you feel his throbbing length between your folds, pushing through your lips to coat himself in your slick before he’s at your entrance and slowly pushes inside.

“Oh my god” you practically jolt off the bed when Dave enters you, still getting used to how he stretches you and with the toy in your other hole you feel so incredibly full that you already know you’re not going to be lasting very long.

“Oh fuck” Dave groans once he’s buried to the hilt and he takes a moment to pause. “Gripping my fucking cock so tight baby, Jesus you feel so fucking good”

“Fuck. Move, please” you cry out, reaching your hands behind you to grab a hold of Marcus’ head and keep him close, burying your fingers in his hair for something to hold onto.

One of Marcus’ hands leaves your breast and the way his breathing picks up and his sucking on your neck gets sloppy you know he’s jerking his cock and a fresh wave of arousal hits you.

Dave begins rutting into you. His hands are gripped tight around your thighs as he slams his pelvis into yours over and over. He knows you’re close already and need the release and he also knows he won’t be too far behind you, the way you’re clamping down on his dick like an unrelenting vice grip.

"That's it, dirty fucking girl. Letting me fill all your fucking holes hmm? So goddamn full aren't you baby?" He asks before landing a hard slap to the side of your ass.

“Ohhhhh fucckkkkkk” you’re practically sobbing as Dave continues to rail into you, pummeling you into submission with every deep and sharp thrust of his hips. You feel so full everywhere, like you’re about to spontaneously combust if you don’t cum soon. Your legs are trembling as Dave holds them up in the air, toes curled tight and everything feels so good everywhere you feel like you could scream. This is one of the prime examples of Dave pushing you to your absolute limits and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head as you take, take, take. Desperate for everything he has to give you.

“Oh my god, please, please, please” you beg. You’re so close, just waiting to be tipped over that edge. You need that final push.

Marcus turns out to be the one that gives it to you. His other hand leaves your breast and snakes down between your legs and expertly rubs your clit just the way he knows drives you crazy and you cum loud and hard, pushing up on your elbows as your whole body thrums with an unwavering energy that pulses through in little shockwaves for what feels like forever. You can feel the release gushing out of you from your prolonged orgasm.

"Fuck, that's it baby, cum all over this cock. Fuck you're so good" Dave growls as your hips continue chasing down your high until finally, once you've given all you have to give, you’re panting and heaving and collapsing back down onto the bed. Marcus’ hand leaves from between your legs and comes to gently brush the hair from your face as he peppers little kisses all over your cheek, murmuring his love for you and how beautiful you are.

It’s a stark contrast to how Dave continues pounding into you with reckless abandon. His thrusts are starting to get sloppy, his grip around your thighs bordering painful and his eyes are slammed shut and teeth gritted as he nears his own completion.

“Fuck baby, where?” He asks, sounding about as wrecked as you feel and you reach up and grab his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“Inside, fuck, cum inside me” you cry out and moments later he does, filling you with rope after rope of his warm spend until his hips finally begin to slow and he eventually pulls out of you, lowering your legs down and sitting back on his heels in exhaustion.

Another strangled moan escapes, this one from behind you as Marcus’ forehead comes down to rest on top of yours and your whole head is reeling, all three of you orgasming within moments of each other is probably the single hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Holy shit” you breathe, heart hammering in your chest. All three of you are panting and breathing heavily as you come down from your peaks. Hands are everywhere, stroking and squeezing and reassuring and at this point your brain can’t even discern who’s who and you don’t actually care. Your smile reaches ear to ear and you just lie there a moment longer with your eyes closed, taking it all in.

Finally after everyone’s had a chance to catch their breath you feel Dave gently pulling the toy out from you and you actually groan at the loss. Dave leans over you, planting little kisses all over your abdomen and telling you what a good girl you were over and over and it warms your entire body.

“Baby…” you begin a moment later, tipping your head back again to look at Marcus who once again surprised you with his stamina, orgasming a second time tonight. “Again?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he blushes furiously and nods his head.

“Told you you were fucking hot” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. “And um, to be honest,” he’s speaking lowly now in your ear, just for you. “My hard on never fucking went away. Even in the shower. I don’t know what that thing is that Dave brought for me but… we’re keeping it” he proclaims and you laugh.

You tilt your head back up and raise slightly on your elbows so you can look at Dave. He’s still sitting back on his heels, hand absentmindedly running up and down your leg as he takes a moment to collect himself and enough energy to get up off the bed.

“I think we’ll keep Dave too” you mention, giving Dave a playful smile and he grins, giving your ankle a little squeeze as he winks at you.

Next Chapter

Taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace

#pedro pascal characters #dave york #marcus pike #dave york fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike smut #dave york x you #dave york x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x dave york x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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omorimodreverie · 4 months

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Reverie Dev Log - November and December

Side Note: This one is quite long, if you only want an important part, there is a TL;DR summary at the bottom.

New Year Note

Happy New Year! We have now reached 2024! Reverie has begun as a little project since April 2021, before it even has its name. The more modern variant began after the demo release in August 2021, with CH1 releasing in May 2022, so it’s been a long way.

Though to admit, considering CH2.5 update came in December 2022, this means CH3 has a gap of a year now (though there are some updates and patches on 2.5 for a few months. This makes it seem like progress has been in stagnation, especially with delayed dev log recently.

This one will be shorter in technical and progress details, and more about the general gist of development plans in general, the surrounding environmental change in modding and OMORI as a whole (as that bears a great effect currently), and finally explains the slow down a bit (though a TL;DR: basically the past few months is holidays).

Also, Development post will now rather be every 2 months as well.

(And also the time is better spent on actually development than just writing, lol)

Overview

November and December for its period of time wasn’t as much done compared to previous months, though it wasn’t as bad as the worst case scenario when factoring in multiple holidays coming in that could have easily killed the motivation entirely. So all things considered, it’s relatively steady going despite the circumstances

For a quick rundown:

More NPCs implemented in maps

Writing is a bit more organized and more steady in terms of work now (And also an additional writer member!)

Portraits started to be done for most main characters

Connected up some progression from separate disjointed cutscenes

Some new plans that reduces workload*

Some enemy sprites are done as well on the side**

A few changes and re-polish on some music tracks

*for example, sunset are done on same map with filter than whole new set of maps

**Which are low priority, more of optional content in CH3 context

Updates, Changes and Needs

There are multiple factors that affect development, here it will be listed from short term factor to long term factor and potential future.

Holiday and Breaks

Let’s start with easy stuff, the short term factor. The past few months contain multiple holidays and also school breaks for some people. There isn’t much to say here, people on holidays get busy therefore less people are doing mod work, especially Christmas and New Year holiday.

(I mean, reverie is a fan mod project, not a job, lol)

Though there is still at least some minimum baseline of trying to keep interest up with some check in, so the interest doesn’t die off entirely, as mentioned in previous Dev Log before large holidays tend to be in big risk for that.

CH3 and Real World Content

One major thing to think about is the length of the real world section and the amount of content it has. The real world content has a large upfront cost due to making an entire new asset for the majority of aspects, so any new things added more will take far longer time than usual other chapters in the dream world.

There are two major aspects to consider, the mandatory story aspect, and the optional side content aspect.

Mandatory / Story Content

As of current the main story aspect of CH3 is quite short, unlike Dreamworld areas, the Real world main content mostly revolves around cutscenes and dialogues, if you speed through the dialogue and cutscenes, it could very well take only half an hour or less to go through (though that’s unlikely the way it’s played on first playthrough at least, ignoring reading time).

One conflict is that, Reverie as a mod is far more focused on Dreamworld sections and battle heavy, making real world sections a bit awkward to make, taking quite a large amount of development time compared to other dream world chapters. The question then is how much real world content should be made, factoring in development time?

Side / Optional Content

As for side content, like in base game it’s mostly NPCs giving fetch quests (which are simpler to make), or potentially jobs (which is a bit more complex).

One unique aspect of Reverie over the base game though, is some amount of gameplay battles to at least give something to do (think of Jackson poster in Hobbeez in base game, but more fleshed out).

The important question is, how much side content should there be in the real world section of reverie? While it is cool to have some side content in real world and is a common complaint on base game itself that the real world feels lackluster, making more things in real world also takes up a large amount of development time which is not ideal. It’s a balancing act between not too lackluster but also not too much content which would take too much time.

RPGMV Needs and Modding Community

And finally, the general community aspect. The OMORI fandom has aged quite a while now, and as time passes the amount of people interested is reduced as well. This project is ultimately a fan project so the amount of interest on the mod isn’t really a problem, but what does this mean is there are less people interested in OMORI and also modding in general,.

A fair amount of people who tend to do RPGMaker MV (RPGMV) works tend to now be out no longer modding, or new members who do would tend to be making own project anyways. This means there has been less people who are available with RPGMV side, which means aspects like cutscenes should be cut down smaller to avoid development hell.

What this means for development is the gears shift from previous usual development focused on efficiency (getting task as parallel as possible), to a slower but sustainable development, focusing more on sustaining interest, which is better than losing interest totally.

TL;DR

Basically, the key important points are:

Short term aspect of Holidays and New Year makes November and December slow period in general.

Real World content (and CH3 by extension) is more time consuming and harder to make than other chapters

Therefore, amount of Real World content needs to be discussed, both mandatory and optional content

There has been less people in Omori community in general meaning there is less people to go by, especially RPGMV sector

Therefore, development has switched to a more slow burn state, taking things slow but sustaining interest to avoid burn out or lost motivation

And for development posts, now will be posting every 2 months than every months instead to reduce writing.

And about Applications...

Applications are always open! RPGMV / Programmers are always appreciated!

Final Stuff

Well now that you read this far, here's some portrait of Daphne and Bowen! (and also probably the only few sprite that is showable related to CH3 now)

There isn't much detail, but when resized down it is enough as a sprite

#omori #omori mod #mod #omorimodreverie #reverie #omori reverie #devlog

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lauraroselam · 10 months

Text

So I wrote this weird book about queer dragons. It came out the same day as the other dragon book everyone talks about. It was a Sunday Times bestseller in the UK, though, which was incredible!

However, I'm not sure how to continue to promote this book--people either seem to really like it, or not quite get it. Or it just wasn't what they expected. Which is fine, no book can please everyone, and I knew I'd made some unusual craft choices that was going to make it more marmite. (Or, as my brain tells me at midnight, I'm just a bad writer). However, there's that librarian saying "every book its reader" and the people who love this book REALLY love it, and that makes me so happy. So I decided to write this post and explain its weirdness and lay out what you can expect if you do pick it up. Maybe you're my kind of odd, too. :-)

Short pitch: 800 years ago, dragons and humans were bonded, then humans were dicks, stole the dragons' magic, and banished them to a dying world. But humans have short memories, forgot, and now worship dragons as gods. The dragon "gods" remember, and they do not forgive.

Thief Arcady steals their grandsire's stone seal (which helps them funnel magic) from their tomb. Their grandsire supposedly released a magical plague that killed a proportion of society, and Arcady is locked out of society as a result. They perform a spell to rewrite the seal to have a new identity as they want to go to university at the Citadel and also clear their family's name. Problem? The spell also accidentally calls through Everen, the last male dragon, trapped in human form. Everen has been foretold to save his kind, and now he has a chance: he just has to convince one little human to trust him mind, body, and soul, and then kill them. Then he'll be able to steal the human's magic back, rip a hole in the Veil, and the dragons can return. Good news for dragons, less good news for humans. As you might expect: this does not go to plan. Because emotions.

Grab it now. (Note: there's still a contractual delay so it's not available in US audiobook yet, annoyingly. Hopefully soon). (If you are like "weird queer dragons?! Sign me up" but aren't interested in hearing why the author has made certain decisions and want to go into the text cold, stop here! Death of the author/birth of the reader, etc. Otherwise, carry on.)

You should pick up Dragonfall if:

You like experimental narrative positions! It's all collected by an unnamed archivist who has access to both first person narratives (Arcady, the genderfluid human thief, Everen the hot dragon) and can scry into the past and draw out third person narratives (Sorin, hot priest assassin. Cassia, Everen's sister, who is also hot. Spoiler: everyone in this book is hot). Then to make it even weirder, Everen's bits are technically in first person direct address, so he's writing it all to Arcady (the first chapter ends with: "For that human was, of course, you. And this is our story, Arcady.") I ended up writing it this way for a few reasons, even though it probably would have been simpler to just stick to straight up third throughout, like most epic fantasy does. The big one is that Arcady is genderfluid and uses any pronouns (I tend to default to they when I talk about them outside of the text), and constantly gendering them in the text felt wrong whether I used he, she, or they. This way bypasses that a lot in the first volume, so it's up to the reader to make up their own mind. I also just really love first person direct address as a narrative position. It can be a little confronting, and it makes Everen the dragon sound a bit more predatory at the start. But it's also quite intimate. Is he writing his sections as an apology, or a love letter? Both? You find out at the end. So if your green flag books are: The Fifth Season, The Raven Tower, or Harrow the Ninth, this might also be your jam.

You love classic 90s fantasy. This is in many ways an homage to all the stuff I read growing up: Robin Hobb and the Realm of the Elderlings (the book is dedicated to Hobb in particular), the Dragonriders of Pern, Tad Williams, Lynn Flewelling, Robert Jordan, Mercedes Lackey, Tamora Pierce, etc. But I wanted to give it a more modern twist. I'm NB and growing up I didn't see a lot of queerness in fantasy, and I clung to the examples I did find (Vanyel, the Fool). Also, not 90s fantasy, but I also freaking loved Seraphina by Rachel Hartman and Priory of the Orange Tree, so those were influences too.

You're not put off by Worldbuilding(TM) and a slower pace. Probably because I grew up on the likes of Tad Williams, I honestly love slow-paced fantasy. I love to luxuriate in a world and take my time getting to know a made up world. In Assassin's Quest it takes over 100 pages for Fitz to leave the forest. Love it. I have a more lyrical writing style, I guess, and I'm pretty descriptive. My stuff always tends to start off slower, set the stage, and then ramps up the pace as we get further along. So yes, my book starts out with some infodumping, depending on your tolerance level of that sort of thing. I worked with a linguist and they made a conlang for the dragon language (hi @seumasofur). There's a map by Deven Rue (cartographer for Critical Role). I got nerdy.

You love queernorm fantasy! This is set in a world where it's considered rude to assume a stranger's gender and so you tend to default to they/them. If you consider someone much higher in status than you, you'd capitalise it to the honorific, such as They/Them. Once you get to know someone, you tend to flash your pronouns to them with a hand signal, since a sign language called Trade is also a lingua franca in the world. 99.95% of all the dragons are also lesbians, BTW. Everen is the last male dragon.

You like frankly silly levels of slow burn. Everen and Arcady can't physically touch without it causing Everen pain while they're half-bonded. They may or may not find creative loopholes. But it's not mega mega spicy, if you're expecting that. I expect the spice levels will gradually go up as the series progresses.

Alright, I think that's more than enough to give you a sense of what you'd find in Dragonfall. If you're open to sharing this post so it reaches more people outside of my little corner of the internet, I'd really appreciate it. Whenever I do any bit of self-promo, I'm always so anxious and worry it'll get like, 2 eyeballs on it anyway or that I'm just annoying people by mentioning that my art even exists. And if you end up liking it, please tell a friend.

I'm loving the recent dragon renaissance! Long live dragons.

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princessasmosprincess · 6 months

Text

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 30

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you. Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC Genre: Drama, angst, a bit of fluff. Warnings: None in this chapter. *** Author's note: Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I did that thing where I let a chapter sit for too long and I started to hate it. Writing this was a lot of trusting the process and I was failing that at first... ***

“Pardon me.”

You turned, still pulling against Lucifer, as someone put their hand on your shoulder.

It was Solomon.

“Well, looks like a new song has started. I'd love the chance to dance with MC. Might I cut in?” He asked, looking not at you, but directly at Lucifer.

Lucifer’s ruby gaze narrowed at the sorcerer. “Fine.” And then he turned it back to you, that haughty smirk on his lips, “I get the feeling that you've gotten the message and you understand what I'm telling you MC. I'm glad we got to have this little talk.” He handed you off to Solomon and stalked off into the crowd of demons.

Solomon took your hand gently in his and began leading you in the dance. You flexed the fingers of your injured hand, feeling the circulation returning.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue there.” You said.

“No need to thank me. Think nothing of it.” Solomon gave a reassuring smile, “This is the Devildom. When it comes down to it, you're human, and that makes you different. Never forget that. You may have made pacts with demons, but you still lack the power to command them.”

Solomon’s dancing was less refined than Lucifer's, it was also simpler. But he was easy to follow as he led you through the steps, and this was the perfect tempo to hold a conversation.

“How do you command a demon you've made a pact with?” You asked.

“Good question…” Something flashed in Solomon’s eyes, like he was pleased you asked. “Everyone has some amount of magical power by nature. However, there are some people in which it actually manifests itself, and some people in which it doesn't. And even among those in which it does, some have more of it than others. It varies based on the individual.”

He led you in a quick but gentle turn, nothing too showy, before he settled his arms around you once again. “Seeing how it doesn't even manifest itself in you to begin with, even though you've made pacts with demons, you can't take command of their powers.”

You gave a frustrated sigh. The pacts were practically useless if you couldn't wield them at will, beyond those little commands you'd managed once or twice. Protection was one thing, but your true task was still looming in the background (or really, in the attic of the House of Lamentation).

“Would you like me to lend you my power?” Solomon asked suddenly.

His offer gave you pause. Was something like that possible?

“You can do that?” You searched his face for any sign of teasing, “Why would you?”

“Let's just say I'm curious to know what would happen if I did.” He said, “You're a destabilizing element here in this world. I can't say what might happen if I do this, which is exactly what makes it interesting.”

You thought for a moment. You so wanted to know what it felt like to use magic. And maybe, if you wielded his magic well, Solomon would lend it to you again, for when you truly needed it.

“Ok,” you said finally, “Lend me your power, Solomon.”

Solomon nodded. He switched to an open dance position, taking both of your hands and entwining your fingers with his. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours in a similar way to how you’d forged your pacts with the demons, reciting an incantation you couldn't quite hear over the music.

Your hands began to glow with silver light, and warmth snaked up your arms into your chest. Electricity pulsed in your veins and your body felt strange. Stronger, but not with physical strength, there was this sense of energy that felt so different to anything you’d ever experienced before. When the incantation was complete, Solomon took a step back, his hands still clasped around yours.

“There. I've put a spell on you.” He pulled you close to him once more, continuing the dance, “As of this moment, you have use of my powers for the next six hours.” He looked you over, gauging your reaction, “You should experience what it's like to control a demon and use his powers.”

Solomon led your dancing to the edge of the dance floor.

“I’m still not sure why you offered this.” You said, breathing around that bubbly, light feeling in your chest from the borrowed magic.

“We are on a retreat after all. Why waste this opportunity?” He smirked, “So, go. Show me what you can do. I'm counting on you to deliver.”

Without warning, Solomon spun you out directly into another’s arms as the ending of the song melted into the beginning of the next.

***

Asmo’s hand found your waist automatically, even he was surprised when he took your hand in his and swept you back onto the dance floor.

You stumbled for a few steps as you fell into the changing rhythm. And once you found your footing, you looked into the face of your new partner.

Asmo looked away as soon as your eyes met his. He kept his gaze trained over your shoulder, sighing, disinterested. As if he would rather be anywhere else.

The awkwardness was unbearable, and after more than a minute of silence, other than the lilting instrumental music and the light buzz of the party crowd. You knew you needed to say something. The very something that had been bothering you all day.

You took a breath, building up the courage to break the silence. And then you spoke, “Asmo, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said what I said the way I did.”

He finally looked back at you, eyebrows raised.

“I was frustrated with you and overtired,” You admitted, “But that’s no excuse for… threatening to control you.” Your cheeks burned in shame.

Asmo blinked.

“I really do want to make a pact with you, but not like that.”

Asmo couldn't remember the last time he’d been apologized to that hadn't been part of bedroom role play or the half-hearted apologies Mammon stammered out, at Lucifer’s persuasion, after being caught stealing Asmo’s things.

This was sincere.

“I see.” He said, but Asmo wanted to know more. “And why is it that you want a pact with me so badly, darling? I know I’m the most irresistible demon in all of the Devildom, but surely there’s more to it than that.”

You nodded, “There is.”

And for some reason Asmo was relieved to hear you say that.

“I want to make a pact with you because…” You dropped your gaze to his collar, searching for the right words, “There’s something I need to do and I need your power to do it.” Your brow furrowed, you looked almost desperate.

Need. The word rang inside his head. Needing was different than wanting. Most people wanted him, but you…

“Is that why you made pacts with my brothers?” He asked.

You looked away.

Asmo pressed further, taking your silence for an answer, “And do they know what it is you want to do?”

You remained silent.

Asmo sighed, “Very well, you don’t have to tell me right now.” He was content to leave it be until he decided to make a pact with you.

If he decided to make a pact with you, he emphasized to himself.

Over the music he caught Mammon’s complaining voice, something about it not being fair. That he was your first and he still hadn’t gotten to dance with you. Asmo pulled you in closer.

His fingertips brushed your skin through the cutout at the small of your back.

Asmo found it interesting that Lisette had left the cutouts in the outfit she’d given you, especially since it was something so easily changed with her tailoring magic.

The cutouts were meant to accommodate beings with wings. Otherwise it could be altered to fit beings with tails, and there was even a version for beings with neither. It was very important to Asmo that anyone, regardless of their size or number of appendages, could wear his designs. One of his core philosophies was that everyone deserved to be fabulous.

He’d left Lisette with his preferred method of alteration in the original sketch. Of course, being the owner of Majolish and the one sponsoring his design, she could make the changes she saw fit. But Lisette had always respected Asmo’s design choices, and the rare times she had made a change, she’d informed him of it right away. They’d, admittedly, been mostly small accessories thus far, but Asmo didn’t think Lisette would change her policy when it came to full ensembles. She'd approved his design so readily.

“Where did you get this outfit, dear?” Asmo asked you, breaking the tension that was still heavy in the air around you both.

You smiled, happy with the change of subject. “Lisette lent it to me the last time I went to Majolish.”

Had she given you the prototype? The one he had paid Levi in signed Sucre Frenzy photo cards to sew for him, sworn to secrecy by penalty of death or revealing his waifu list to all of RAD if he told anyone about it, all while Asmo hand embroidered the sleeves so everything would be perfect? The one Asmo had worn during the photo shoot? That one would have been stored in Lisette’s vault until it would be returned to him once the collection debuted. It was precious.

“Really? I don’t believe I’ve seen that design before,” He dipped you, his face inches from yours, his eyes sparkling with his little secret, his bat wings flitting behind him.

“It’s from a new collection that’s supposed to come out next month,” You said, unfazed by the closeness. But then your eyes widened. “I didn’t even think to ask her if it was ok to wear before the debut. I hope it’s alright.”

Asmo righted you and continued dancing.

“You could always ask her now,” He inclined his head to the banquet tables across the room.

Her late husband being a former student council member and demon nobility, Lisette attended most RAD events by invitation directly from the crown. She was there at the dance, looking absolutely stunning in a form fitting gown of deep amethyst as she conversed amiably with Lord Diavolo.

“But I think you’re fine, hon. She wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t want you to wear it.”

Asmo released your waist with a gentle push, spinning you out before pulling you back as the music flourished, the fabric of your outfit billowing exquisitely around your figure. Your delicious, human scent wafted toward him as you returned to his arms, totally breathless. He barely registered your cute laugh as he caught something else in the air. It was very faint, something only he could detect due to his proximity to you.

Cupiditas. The very perfume he’d worn the day of the photo shoot.

And Asmo knew there was no way you could coincidentally have a bottle of Cupiditas in your possession. It was a scent only found in the Devildom, discontinued a thousand years ago because it drove some lower level demons wild beyond control. Asmo only had it because he’d charmed the perfumer into giving him one of the last bottles in existence.

He only ever used it on special occasions. Like when he modeled something of his own design for Devil Style magazine.

You were definitely wearing the prototype, the warmth of your body heating the last bit of perfume remaining on the clothing. Lisette had magically tailored it to your size, but there was no mistaking that it was his. How had he not noticed it until now?

Here you were, in his arms, wearing his clothes. Not just clothes he’d designed but clothes he’d worn on his own body. This all felt strangely intimate.

“Well, it looks ravishing on you, dear.” He found himself saying. It was the truth.

You ducked your head shyly. “Thanks, I really like it too. I’ll be sad when I have to return it.”

“Live in the moment, darling. You’ll regret it if you don't take the time to enjoy it while you can.”

“You’re right.” You agreed.

The music swelled in a crescendo. You gave a coy smile and took the chance to twirl him this time.

Asmo felt his heart flutter at your boldness and a giggle escaped his lips as he turned in time with the music.

Just as he was about to return to your grasp, his eyes caught Solomon through the flurry of dancers, watching the two of you intently.

Asmo’s heart clamped firmly shut. Now was not the time to get sentimental.

He met your gaze warily as he slipped his arms around your waist once again.

“You know, Asmo,” You said, “Your eyes really do look like the sunset.”

That was it.

He’d had enough of dancing for the night.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

#charmed i'm sure #obey me #obey me shall we date #asmo #asmodeus #asmo obey me #asmodeus obey me #solomon obey me #asmo x reader #asmo x mc #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x mc #asmo x gn reader #asmo x gn mc #asmodeus x gn reader #asmodeus x gn mc

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changingplumbob · 19 days

Text

Chopra Household: Chapter 6, Part 13

In this final part we rap up the Chopra's for this rotation.

If Viola is attempting to say something it will be in brackets Mercedes has a speech delay and may get words wrong, correct wording will be in brackets if that is the case Savannah aka Honeybee Mercedes aka Little Ladybug Viola aka Green Bean

At the Rec centre Cassandra sets herself up to stream her guitar practice and hopes some locals may tip her some coins. Rahul meanwhile focuses on getting Viola talking. I would say, easier said than done but the whole point is it’s not easily said.

Rahul: Let’s do words. I know you know some, can you tell me?

Viola: Papa… Mama… lo ee (Love me)

Rahul: Lo ee isn’t quite a word but good job trying. How about we try one together? Me and you? Say after me, me…

Viola: Dee *twirls braids*

Rahul: Me…

Viola: Gre *dances in place*

Rahul: You…

Viola: Poo *flaps arms*

Rahul: Poo is a word! Not the one we were trying but I’ll take it. Poo is what you do in the potty

Viola: Papa?

Rahul: Yes green bean

Viola: I no no (I don’t need words)

Rahul: You don’t want to practice words right now?

Viola shakes her head to hammer home the point.

Rahul: What do you want to do then Viola

Viola: *hums* papa pa mi ah ah (Papa play with me, up up) *waves arms*

Rahul: Alright, you win. We’ll play for now

Viola jumps up and down in delight making joyous noises. Over the other side of the garden Cassandra has amassed a small crowd of sims but smiles to see Viola happy.

Rahul: Play time, up we go

Viola: Ah… up up

Rahul: Hey you got it green bean. Hold on tight, we’re going to fly

Viola giggles and shrieks as Rahul spins her around every which way. It can’t last forever though as the twins are due home soon.

Age up day means new photo time! Even if it is cloudy. One picture in everyday and one in hot weather as it’s getting quite hot and muggy. Unfortunately, we discover Viola hates being carried so she’s very glad when it’s over. Cassandra is desperate for the bathroom so heads inside while Rahul introduces the girls to bikes.

Rahul: They’ll allow you to see how beautiful all of Henford is. Now do you need help, I can help teach you

Mercedes: No papa, I got it

Savannah: Maybe… My motor skill…

Rahul: How about I give you some guidance and you can send me off whenever you like honeybee

Savannah nods happily and Rahul carries her down the steps to her bike. Mercedes is already tying to move around, helpfully wearing the ladybug helmet as the twins hair matches even more with helmets on. One particularly enthusiastic movement send her head into the handlebars though and she rubs her sore eye.

On the deck Viola is doing her best to stack blocks. There’s still the temptation to just put them in her mouth and chew. Inside Cassandra decides to take a pregnancy test since she’s had to pee more than normal today. What do you know, it’s positive! Next pregnancy has begun (and will have to be paused between households). Cassandra is delighted but she still feels sicker than she usually does when pregnant (probably all the mods).

Rahul is trying his best to provide guidance but the girls are still getting used to the bikes, walking on them in tippy toes on the front walkway and around the gates.

Snuggles: *clucks* what are you doing

Seven: *bleats* investigating. What are those things

Snuggles: *clucks* who cares? Just stay away from them or we’ll end up 2D

Cassandra comes outside and walking gingerly down the steps calls Rahul over while the kids are busy.

Rahul: Hey, you okay my darling

Cassandra: I’m not great but I am happy. Big guy… we’re pregnant again

Rahul: We are? Oh that’s amazing

Cassandra: I can’t promise it’ll be a boy

Rahul: I know from my biology degree, that y chromosome is down to me. Come here my darling. Boy or girl, I love them already

Cassandra: I just feel a bit groggy with it all. And I don’t know how the girls will react

Rahul: The twins are older now, they might be more understanding. And I’m sure Viola will love a playmate eventually

Cassandra: You get Viola in and I’ll talk to the girls

Rahul: As you wish my darling

Cassandra moves over to the danger zone that’s full of wobbling bikes and calls for Mercedes to come see her, she is the more sensitive of the two.

Cassandra: Little ladybug, you know how me and papa had Viola

Mercedes: *smiles* You’re sending her back?

Cassandra: No. We’re actually having another one. You’ll be a big sister again

Mercedes pouts in annoyance so Cassandra sweeps her into a hug.

Cassandra: Listen to me. No matter how many kids me and papa have, we will always, always, love you. Do you understand little ladybug?

Eventually Mercedes stops squirming and hugs her back tightly. She whispers that she loves her mama and Cassandra relaxes.

Savannah: What are we hugging about

Mercedes: Bad news! Another baby is coming

Savannah: I don’t know, another one could be good. It could keep Viola busy so we don’t have to talk to her. Are you and papa really having a baby mama

Cassandra: Really really. Are you okay with it Honeybee

Savannah: Sure. I can always just ignore it

Rahul: Do you understand green bean? Mama is making a baby so you’ll have a younger sibling

Viola: Mama av ab? I no ab (Mama is having a baby? I don’t know what a baby is)

Rahul: They’ll be small but they’ll get bigger then you can play with them

At this explanation Violas eyes light up. She may not understand what a baby is but something to play with sounds like fun. Her older sisters never seem to want to play with her.

Cassandra: Applesauce. Eat up Viola, you need to grow big and healthy

Savannah: Can I name the baby

Mercedes: No fair, I want to name the baby

Savannah: But I'm oldest

Cassandra: Me and papa have to talk about it first but I guess we can talk about it together afterwards

Rahul pulls a face at this idea but doesn’t let the girls see, he doubts they'll offer any ides beyond Twerp or Nincompoop.

After dinner Cassandra plays some My Sims Racing with the twins. Savannah being a geek is only to happy to “work” on her fine motor skills by playing.

Mercedes: Be quiet Viola, I’m focus (concentrating)

Viola keeps banging away at the xylophone, giggling and laughing despite her sisters protests. It’s a tight game with no clear winner but the twins are happy they get to spend time with their mama.

Cassandra: Good game my darlings, bedtime now

Savannah: Viola’s not going to bed

Cassandra: Your papa will get her now come on, we can start the new book

Mercedes: YES

The girls get in their pyjamas and climb into bed. Cassandra begins to read but they’re both asleep before the first chapter ends. Smiling she tucks Mercedes in and reaches up to stroke down Savannah’s hair.

Walking into the nursery Cassandra finds a sleepwear wearing Viola clinging to Rahul’s leg while he does his best to encourage her to let go.

Cassandra: Are we not asleep yet

Rahul: She seemed to be waiting for you

Viola detaches herself from Rahul’s leg and toddles up to Cassandra, hugging her leg tight in the same way she was holding onto Rahul.

Cassandra: Oh hey, I love you *kisses forehead* Shall we have a story green bean

Viola nods happily, climbs onto bed and tucks herself under the covers. While Rahul works on cleaning up her latest potty accident Cassandra reads to Viola. Cassandra isn’t sure how much Viola understands but she seems to enjoy it right up until she falls asleep.

With that we’ve reached the end of the Chopra household for this rotation. Next time we’ll get to visit the obstetrician and find out if Cassandra has just one baby on board this time.

Previous ... Next (Romero)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0902 #RahulChopra #ViolaChopra #CassandraChopra #SavannahChopra #MercedesChopra

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purplehairedwonder · 9 months

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Chapter 1088: Ethics 101

This write-up is a bit delayed, but I definitely wanted to comment on a few things.

For one thing, Garp’s lesson feels like he’s teaching a philosophy class.

So, that’s probably why it reminded me of Chidi in The Good Place, particularly when he was going over the Trolley Problem. (It’s not an exact replica of the ethical dilemma here but there are similarities.)

Garp gets lectured for telling his proteges to protect the future...

Of course, the Marines declaring “All lives are equal” is downright laughable. These are the people who serve at the whim of the Celestial Dragons, wiped out Ohara, Flevance, and, recently, Lulusia.

They’re also content to sacrifice troops rather than take on an Emperor, so it takes a SWORD Member (Koby) to step in.

It’s interesting that Koby volunteered here; Blackbeard wasn’t actually interested in him in the first place.

Still, the fact that Blackbeard took this deal means Koby’s reputation is widespread. Rocky Port reveal when, Oda?!

Back to the present day, is it weird to say that Garp reminds me a bit of Luffy here?

Luffy has unwavering faith in his nakama. He has people on his crew who can do things he can’t, and he can do things they can’t. Garp here, like his grandson, puts his unmitigated faith in his people--though in this case, it’s more a case of handing the baton to the next generation. We’ve been focusing mostly on the next generation of pirates in the Worst Generation, but this is the next generation of the Marines stepping forward into the limelight.

Once the youngin’s are off, Garp returns his focus to his former protégé.

And all I can think of is Monty Python.

Okay, fine. It’s quite compelling that we’ve got Garp protecting and encouraging his current batch of proteges while facing off against his former protégé in Kuzan. (Kuzan’s line last chapter about Garp raising enemies is still ringing in my ears; that was cold.)

We also get a flashback, learning Koby’s been doing the “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” training montage from Mulan after training.

“You must be swift as the coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon”

Koby is so wholesome that even his attack has a wholesome name.

Still, this is very impressive. Koby stocks on the rise.

Garp, Grus, and Helmeppo get back to the ship, just leaving Garp remaining on Hachinosu.

Look, I have plenty of issues with Garp, but to his credit here, he’s willing to walk the walk when it comes to saving the future generation over the old generation. He sacrifices himself so they ship can escape.

(Also, what was the point in Tashigi being here? I was really hoping we were going to see Smoker at some point, but nope. She’s just hanging out in the background doing nothing. Yeesh, let the woman do something for once, Oda.)

This looks bad for Garp. It feels like a sendoff, and Garp--a D.--is laughing in the face of death.

I don’t think he’s dead, though. For one thing, this is One Piece where death is made up and the points don’t matter. And the narration box says he’s MIA, which is quite different than some of the other more dramatic descriptions of defeat we’ve gotten in recent chapters.

Second, this is not the first time we’ve seen a D. face death with a smile and survive. (Remember Law’s smirk when Doffy had a gun to his chest on the rooftop in Dressrosa?)

Third, if Saul survived Kuzan’s attack, I’d imagine Garp could, too. I could see the ice here is actually saving him from what looks like an ugly stab wound.

More than that, though, it’s makes little strategic sense to kill him. Blackbeard wants a hostage to bargain with the World Government for Hachinosu’s sovereignty. Garp is a significantly more high-value hostage than Koby; it would not be smart to kill him and lose their leverage when they could use him.

Narrative-wise, there’s also a lot left to settle between Luffy and Garp. And what about Dragon?

There’s so much setup with Hachinosu that we’re definitely going there with the Straw Hats at some point. I still think Luffy and Law team up again now that Law is both crewless and shipless, and if Blackbeard takes the surviving Hearts hostage, that will give the renewed alliance reason to go there. Law would also likely be able to save a frozen Garp using his fruit.

All of that being said, I’m looking forward to returning to Egghead next chapter as the Marines arrive.

#One Piece #One Piece 1088 #One Piece chapter 1088 #One Piece spoilers #One Piece chapter 1088 spoilers #Chapter write-up #Monkey D. Garp #Koby #Kuzan #Tashigi #Trafalgar Law #Monkey D. Luffy #Jaguar D. Saul #Blackbeard #Hachinosu

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bellofthemeadow · 8 months

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Blended Hearts and Bitter Brew | Part 2

Summary: Your life was boring, hoping for your big break, you were stuck at Starbucks for what felt like forever. The hot metalhead that just came through your door might just be the amount of shit-stirring fun you've been looking for. (3.8K)

A/N: Hey everyone, I am very sorry for the delay for this chapter, its been quite crazy at work and with the ini starting again (MY LAST ONE YEHHH!), things have been even more intense. So, it's safe to say it's been quite a whirlwind. I also had to delete my previous post because I encountered an issue with the chapter that required me to go back and make some fixes. I'm hopeful that everything is resolved now - fingers crossed!

Additionally, I'd like to extend an invitation to anyone who may have questions or requests for me. I would be absolutely thrilled to have the opportunity to work on them. I'll be away for a few days, and there's nothing I'd love more than to find myself writing by the lake, to be honest. Thank you all for all of your support and kind words, I love you all very much!!

Taglist: @hehekittyhawk

Warning: SMUT, phone sex, discussion of sex, masturbation, wearing, suggestive language, reference to bratting and brat taming (18+) (no minors like at all!!!)

The Phone Call

Usually, after a long day at work, you were more than ready to head home and collapse on the couch while munching on an entire box of hot pockets. Today was a bit different, though. For the first time in a long while, you were actually... excited! Still riding the high from your encounter with Eddie, you took the extra 10 minutes out of your way to stop at the corner store and grab the second cheapest bottle of wine (Fancy) that you could find! Cradling the bottle like you were Gollum with the ring, you were ready to let loose and get a bit frisky.

You got home quickly, stepping through the streets of Indianapolis, your overheated mood a total contrast to the frosty outside. After a quick shower where you made sure to scrub every inch of your skin, which was now pinkish from the scalding heat of the water, you put on your favourite black satiny robe. The soft frock hugged you deliciously, flowing around you like water and reaching just beneath your ass, highlighting its fleshy curve. In front of your antique floor mirror that you’d found in a second-hand shop, you gave yourself a saucy wink while twirling like a damn Jewelry box ballerina. A slutty ballerina, in your case.

You giggled to yourself as you sifted through the kitchen drawer, searching for the candle you were certain you'd received during last year's Secret Santa. Your hand moved blindly, finally identifying the candle's rounded shape with your extended fingers. As you grasped it, you opened the container and took a deep sniff—Peppermint Mocha. You snorted; your manager really was an unimaginative dick. Well, it would have to do for tonight.

You lit it up using the lighter you had stashed under one of your flowerpots for smoking emergencies. You had promised yourself that you would cut back on smoking this year, but every once in a while, nothing could help ease the tension like a good cigarette. It was also unmatched after sex, although THAT front had been pretty quiet in the last few months. Perhaps Eddie could help resolve that, you thought with a cheeky smirk as you imagined him pulling harshly on your hair as you devoured his tattooed neck.

You let the pepperminty aroma waft through the room as you started to set the mood around your little shoebox studio. It wasn’t much – barely enough space for a double bed and a small round table – but it was all yours. You didn't have to share with anybody, didn’t have to abide by anyone’s schedule but your own. If you wanted to get high and eat ice cream straight out of the tube, or if you wanted to practice the riff you couldn’t quite get right on your guitar until early morning, or if, like tonight, you wanted to set a sultry mood and masturbate thinking about Eddie’s tattooed chest… Well, you damn well could.

You sink down to the ground and settle onto your round, fluffy carpet. This very carpet had been among the first pieces you had bought after settling in your new life in Indianapolis. Regret over this purchase had never crossed your mind; its deep burgundy shade harmonizes exquisitely with the studio's dusky tones. And right now, as you reach for your vinyl collection, you can feel all of its fibers against your bare legs. Your senses heightened since the afternoon; its gentle touch now feels almost teasing against your puckered skin making you shiver deliciously.

You allow your index finger to roam over the spines of the hundreds of vinyl records stacked at the foot of your bed. There were so many of them that you reckon you could use them as a bedside table or something. You were quite proud of them if you were completely honest. You’d spent so much time curating this collection since your dad brought home a vinyl player for your 11th birthday. Your dad had insisted that "its sound is far superior to them boom boxes kids use these days." Along with the player, he had purchased your first ever metal album: "Master of Puppets," That night, you had both spent the rest of your birthday listening to the music with your dad, both huddled in the living room, heads bobbing to the harsh rhythm of the tracks—much to your mom's annoyance who must have shouted "SHUT IT DOWN" at least a dozen times before you’d gone to bed, feeling like your life had changed completely. After that, there was no turning back. Ripped jeans, short black skirts, fishnets, and leather became your uniform, and music became your greatest lover.

You reached out and retrieved the specific record you had in mind. Gently sliding the sleek, obsidian vinyl out from its protective sleeve, you cradled it delicately. As the stylus met the surface, K. K. Downing’s guitar strings struck like a punch to your senses, in a delectable impact of metal. The music flowed through you like an electric current, coursing through the grooves, infiltrating your ears, and permeating every fibre of your being, until you were immersed, entwined, and carried away by the raw yet exquisite sound.

Moved by the beat, you rose and started swaying back and forth, the music's rush flooding you until you didn’t exist. Music always held a flavour more alluring than any drink and a sensation more ravishing than any drug – music consistently brought you to a peak of euphoria that couldn't be replicated by anything else. You loved that feeling; the one where you would float over the world in your own little bubble, where no one and nothing mattered except for you and the music.

Your hand found the bottle of wine resting on the kitchen counter, and you took a large gulp, letting the burning liquid cascade down your throat. With the buzz of the wine slowly enveloping you and the music infusing life into your being, you began to move your hands up and down your body, tracing your curves beneath the satin of your robe.

Swaying your hips to the music, you let your mind drift back to Eddie; his husky voice as he tried to tease you, the mischievous tint behind his hazel eyes that you hoped would, when properly provoked, turn more devious—perhaps even a touch wicked. You let your mind wander to what Eddie was hiding behind that Metallica shirt. With a teasing smile to yourself, your body swaying from side to side in a tantalizing shimmy, finding balance with the rhythm of the music.

Come crawling faster Obey your master Your life burns faster Obey your master, master

The sound of your phone ringing brought you back down. "No way he called already!" You dropped the volume of the music before grabbing your phone.

Unknown number

This was too good to be true! And right on time too as the song on the vinyl changed. "Burnin' Up" started to invade your ears. Grinning deviously, that was perfect timing, and you were more than ready to put on a show if Eddie was on the other side of that line.

“Hey there handsome, feeling desperate, are we?” you sultrily cooed.

“Good to know you are a little brat outside of work too.” Eddie’s harsh tone sent a shiver down your back while his words sent a clenching wave through your core.

“Aw, but I just did what you wanted me to do.” You added a quiver to your voice for full effect, “I just wanted to be a good girl for you…”

“Fuck, you can’t just say shit like that baby!” You let out your best teasing laugh.

“Why is that? Am I making you hard?” You questioned innocently, “Are you hard for me right now Eddie?” A strained sound made its way to your ears as you took another gulp of your wine “Am I being a good girl for you now?”

“Good girls don’t tease. Good girls don’t… arg… Good girls listen, and they don’t act like desperate little brats for attention! ‘That why you were acting like a spoiled little princess earlier? Ya wanted all my attention, like the desperate little slut you are.?Well, you have it now baby, so you better make it worth my while” You whimpered at his words, but you didn’t want to give into him – not yet anyway, you wanted to savour this as long as you could.

“Tch, don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need attention from wannabe metal douchebags, thank you very much.” A dark chuckle erupted from the phone.

“Tut, tut, tut. Baby, you can fool yourself all you want. But I can see right through your little spoiled brat display. Beneath all that though, rocker girl thing you’ve got going on, all you want is for me to put you in your place. Am I right, or am I right?”

Fuck, he was too good at this. Most men you had been with had not really wanted to indulge in this fantasy of yours. Most of them had found it weird, not really understanding that when you were acting like a bitch you didn’t want to have a “conversation to settle our differences” as one of your exes so aptly put it. You snorted - No, what you wanted was for someone to grab you by your hair and spit in your mouth. And then, you wanted to cuddle, eat junk food and listen to music until your ears bled. But that was a bit too much to ask apparently.

“Where did your mind go baby? Am I too much for your little bratty ass?” Eddie teased through the phone.

Suddenly a wave of vulnerability like you’d never really felt before washed over you, making you extremely self-conscious. You felt stupid in your little satin robe, half drunk on wine and desperate for some guy you all but had 10 words with. Your skin was itchy, and you felt too hot like a hand had wrapped itself around your throat and squeezed. Fuck, what was wrong with you? For once, a guy was willing to indulge in your little kinky fantasy and what? You were gonna have a panic attack?! You didn’t even know the guy, why were your nerves on fire, why did it feel like you couldn’t disappoint him? Why were you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of a precipice, ready to plummet to your death?

Were you afraid of the fall, or were you afraid that no one would be there to catch you?

“… I’m sorry Eddie, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You could feel tears gathering in your eyes.

“Fuck, shit.” You could hear Eddie scrambling on the other side of the line, “Did I go too far? Fuck I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Shit I should’ve checked for safe words before, shouldn’t have gone straight into it, it's just you drive me goddam mad honey.” A pause as he seemed to realize what he had just said, “Not like “mad-mad” more like lust-mad or – fuck, I don’t even know what I am saying and I’m rambling, and I probably sound like a complete maniac and…” You let him continue, his unfocused voice making you feel safe and maybe, just a little… understood.

“s’ok Eddie. It’s me, it's just… I guess I got a bit scared because you know… You just seem a bit too good to be true.” Silence.

“WHAT?! I seem too good to be true?” His voice took on a misbelieving tone, “Have you looked at yourself? You are like the definition of hot!” You chuckled at his words,

“Nah I am serious babe! Next to “HOT” in the dictionary, there is a photo of your face, I promise you that!”

You felt yourself grow warm under his words, “You’re just saying that…”

“Hey, don’t do that alright,” he counters sternly, his voice so full of certitude and assurance that it fills you with safety. You were so full of his words that you could pop at any moment, “I don’t say shit I don’t mean, never. And look,” a sheepish pause made you hold your breath, “You kinda intimidated me back there, you know. Like your fucking hot, and your witty and then I find out your kinky AF too? I mean, you’re like my dream girl brought to life. I feel like if I pinch myself you’ll disappear, like I made you up or something.”

You release a breath at his words, attempting to regain a modicum of composure you tease, “What like Pygmalion? Am I your Galatea then?”

“Baby, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Never mind…Did I kill the mood?” you ask in a squeaky voice.

In response, Eddie burst into a hearty laugh, “Nah baby you didn’t. It’ll take a lot more than that to scare me away from someone like you… How ‘bout we slow down? Maybe you could tell me what you were doing before I called you up.”

That you could do, "Well, I got back from work all flustered, just had to blow off some steam, you know? Poured myself some wine and put on Killing Machine..." A pronounced groan reached your ears.

“A tad controversial for a so-called metalhead to choose that record—a bit too... mainstream," Eddie quipped, his tone teasing. But your lips curled into an unabashed smile. "Maybe, but I was riding a Burnin' Up vibe, and needed the perfect backdrop. Anyway, a solid album's just that, regardless of how mainstream it might be." you bantered in return.

"Amen to that, baby. But tell true honey, was that all you were doing? Sitting around with music and a glass of wine?" Eddie inquiries with a touch of salaciousness in his tone.

"I might have been dancing... explored a bit beneath my robe—" you teasingly purred.

"Describe it," Eddie suddenly interrupted breathlessly.

" Oh, you want to know what I’m wearing? Is that what you want Eddie?" you replied teasingly.

"Don’t tease baby, be a good girl and describe what you’re wearing.”

You pause for dramatic effect, taking the time to compose your thoughts. "I'm in my black robe, it's all satin with lace, barely grazes below my ass..." you slowly croon, your voice a delicate whisper.

"Damn, keep talking, baby," Eddie's voice urges you, dripping with desire. "It caresses my skin so sensuously, makes me feel so good... Am I doing well?" you inquire, a mix of nervousness and anticipation in your voice.

"Absolutely amazing, baby. Have you touched yourself yet?" he inquires further.

"Just my tits, Eddie. I was kinda hoping you'd give me a call," you shily confess “Are you happy to hear how much I want you?"

"More than you can imagine baby, are you wet for me?” You could almost picture him; he was sitting in a nondescript room, perhaps with some Metallica posters and records strewed about, he’s clenching his teeth as you describe how much you want him, perhaps he took out his cock too. Is he touching himself, you wonder? Because right now, all you want is to dip one of your fingers inside your panty and relieve some of the tension that has been building since before you left for work.

“I’m so wet for you Eddie… I think I’ve been wet since before I left work, that’s how much you affect me. I want to show you that I'm not just a brat; I can behave, I can be your good girl" you say earnestly.

"I know you can be, but let me share a little secret with you, baby." Eddie pauses, and you hold your breath, awaiting his words. "Truth is, I kinda love it when you get all bratty on me..."

At his words, emotions erupted within you—a mélange of lust, desire, joy, and a tad of shyness. Each little butterfly fluttering deep within your belly in a symphony of feelings.

“There’s more of that where it came from,” you sheepishly admit, all too aware of your tendencies to tease and your strong-headedness. You lick your lip, and purr, “Are you hard right now Eddie? Are you as hard for me as I am wet for you?”

“Oh baby, I’m as hard as fucking Andúril right now!” Eddie loudly pants.

“… What did you just say?!” Nervous laughter meets your ear as Eddie stammers,

“No-nothing. It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.” With regained confidence, he continues,

“You gonna touch yourself baby? Come on, be a good girl and touch yourself with me.”

You quickly fumble with your phone as you put it on speaker and lay it next to you on your bed. “I’m in bed…” You shakily exhale.

“Yeah? Me too honey. Now. Touch. Yourself.” His tone left no room for arguing. You could hear a belt unbuckle and a zipper coming undone amidst the rushing of fabric on the other side of the line making you shiver as you imagine him taking his heavy dick in his large hand.

Slowly you hiked your fingers up your thigh, feeling the goosebumps rise under the trace of your nails. You reach under your robe, and you hiss as your index finger grazes your weeping pussy. “Ohh Eddie, I’m so wet, I’m dripping everywhere.”

“Fuck baby, I want to hear.” Blushing like mad you position your phone next to your dripping pussy before slipping your index inside, the wet squelching of your finger going in and out of your core sending pleasurable shivers down your spine as you imagine Eddie’s reaction on the other side of the line.

You breathlessly moan “You hear that, Eddie? You hear how much my bratty little pussy wants you?!”

“Fuck sweetheart, that’s the most metal music I’ve ever heard. My dick’s so hard right now, I feel like it’s gonna fall off.”

“I want to hear you too.” You frantically demand “Yeah? You want to hear me rub my dick baby? You’re such a perverted little girl!” Eddie didn’t need much convincing and all of the sudden you heard a loud plop, and a loud moan escaping Eddie’s throat. The sounds sending an arrow straight to your warm core; did Eddie just spit on his dick? The wet sound of his hand going up his dick was truly one of the sexiest things you’ve ever heard.

“I’m close baby…” Eddie admitted between loud moans.

“Already?” you giggle breathlessly.

“Fuck, don’t be a brat now baby. You close too?”

“Mmm-hmm” You hummed “Not close enough.”

“How many fingers, you’ve got in that sweet little pussy baby?” Eddie pants, almost pained.

“Just the one Edd.” “Shit baby, add another one. Can you add another one for me, honey?” His words alone were almost enough to send you over the edge.

“Yes Eddie, Yes I can. Anything for you!” You whisper-shout into your phone.

You dip another finger inside, ripping a loud moan from your throat. You part your finger, frantically spreading your slick all over and making a mess over your sheet. You curve your index toward you until you reach the spongey spot inside of you that feels oh so good. You rub and rub while your thumb aggressively circles your clit.

“Oh Eddie!! Mmmmm… Fuck, I’m close Ed, I’m so close! I don’t want to come alone!!”

“You won’t baby, you’ll come when I tell you to come. Not before.” Eddie pants into the phone. After what feels like forever, you feel the cord that had been steadily building inside of you start to grow taunt, teetering on the edge of snapping in half.

“Eddie… pleasepleaseplease! Please let me come!”

“FUCK! Come for me baby, I’m cumming!” His words send you over the edge and you see a white light blinding you as your body grows tense before letting go.

You can hear Eddie’s panting on the other side of the line while you try to catch your breath. Now sticky and half-naked with your robe open, you feel a wave of shyness overtake you.

“Eddie? Are you… Are you ok?” A loud laugh meets your ear.

“Am I ok, Baby? Pretty sure the Milky Way just exploded in my room. Damn, that was the hottest thing ever!!” You shyly chuckled at his sweet words.

“It wasn’t like… too much or anything?”

“Wait Baby… Was that your first-time having phone sex?” You grew hot and are quick to dispel any ideas he might get “No, not at all. But…” you hesitate, “But it’s the first time anyone ever made me feel like that before.”

“What? Orgasmic?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up!” You laugh before your traitorous vulnerable heart plants himself down your throat, “I meant like safe; you know. Like you wouldn’t make fun of me or like you actually wanted to hear me come. Like I really mattered for a minute and it wasn’t just about your dick.”

Eddie’s voice grew soft at your words “Baby, there is nothing that I would love more than hearing you come every day, it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. If you let me, I’d put it on a CD and listen to it on repeat.”

“You mean that?”

“With ever fibers of my being baby.” Eddie answers honestly. You can hear the truthfulness and the transparency in his voice. makes you feel better, and perhaps a little bolder, as you ask, "Does that mean you'd like to see me in real life again and not just when I have to serve coffee?" When Eddie doesn’t answer for a second you feel your heart drop down like a lead balloon.

"Or not," you chuckle, "I didn't mean to sound conceited. It's fine if you don't wan—"

Eddie cuts you off, "I'd love to, baby."

"You would?" you ask, your voice tainted with disbelief.

"I didn't mean to sound so unenthusiastic. It's just that I'm not used to having such a pretty girl proposition me like that. Had to pinch my ass to make sure it was real, ya know."

You laugh as your hand nervously toys with the lace of your robe. "So when would you like to see me?"

"How about tomorrow? Pancakes for dinner, and then if you want, I have a show with my band in town. You could come with."

"Yeah? You want to see me tomorrow?"

"Nothing else I'd rather do."

"There's nothing else I'd rather do either, Eddie."

“Then it’s a date… Be ready 'cause I’m gonna rock your world Baby!”

You giggle at his words “Can’t wait Eddie.” You look around you, with thighs still sticky with your pleasure—yeah, you really couldn't wait to see your rockstar again.

Next chapter

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #smut

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 46)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Jimin’s third secret is a little bit harder to explain.

Tags: Guns, murder, assassin! Jimin, Hitman! Jimin, talks of death, brief suicidal ideation, desperate characters, angst, survivors guilt and regular guilt, unreliable narrator, stalking, smoking, speeding, flashback,

W/c: 11k

A/n: so....this is a reveal i’ve had written and planned for the better part of 2 years and it’s up to you guys to decide if i pulled it off well enough!

Previous chapter - Masterlist

Chapter 46 (sneak peek): I Bet on losing Dogs

You recognize the haze following him, wrinkling your nose at Jimin.

“Wouldn’t Namjoon get mad it if he knew you were smoking?” you say. Hopping up to press your body all along the line of him. Jimin might have been quick to hide it, but he knows that there are few secrets that you miss.

He pecks your forehead, keeping his expression measured and routine. “Oh, he’d riot.” Jimin is broken down, his ire that he usually contains around his family spilling onto the concrete out In Front of your house.

You huff a quiet laugh and Jimin takes the still barely glowing cigarette out from behind his back. You sit on the rock wall next to him, willing to wait and delay dinner a little longer. your warm bare thigh close to his while he finishes his cigarette. You’re unworried about the dirt and lichen sullying your tiny silk shorts. The ones with the ruffles on the hems that Jimin has seen Yoongi fiddle with. Like he likes the texture.

Jimin fiddles with them too, hands playing with the high point of your thigh. Words that he can’t ever say dancing on the tip of his tongue, guilt in every little soothing touch in the same way it’s been ever since Tae come out.

(And Before if he’s being honest)

You look like you want Jimin to be honest, like you might want to be honest too. You suck on your lips and before you can say anything he profers you the second half of the cigarette.

“Want a puff?” now Jimin is just inviting the pack alpha and omegas ire- promising the wrath of Yoongi too for introducing you to his bad habit. The last one he’s got that he can’t quite kick. It might be a little masochistic. Maybe today Jimin wants their hatred.

Their hatred would be easier to get than yours. And even that is something jimin’s not allowed to want. Barring the day Tae came out- you haven’t ever expressed your anger at him, even though you probably should have by now if it was ever going to come.

You shrug, taking it after a moment. You cough more than breathe- all wrong. Like you’ve never done it before. You smile through your discomfort and Jimin can’t help but be just a tiny bit endeared.

“These things kill you. You know?” is all you say, eyes watering when you hand it back to him.

Jimin wonders if you’ve ever done any drugs before, now’s not an appropriate time to ask and yet- he wants too. Jimin’s lungs are burning with everything he wants to ask. More than smoke and fire, truth always burns on the inhale and exhale.

He takes another long drag, “A lot of things can kill you.”

Coming Saturday, January 14th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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violet-shadows · 1 year

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Missing Piece (Part Eleven) (NSFW)

Series Index | Masterlist

Summary: Cassian and Nesta are happily mated and in love, so why do they feel like something is missing? When a newcomer arrives in the City of Starlight, they learn that their bond is not yet complete.

Pairing: Cassian x Nesta x Reader (She/Her) (Poly Relationship)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut at the end of the chapter, discussion of death

A/N: I apologize for the delay in getting this published and appreciate your patience. To make up for it, I’m planning on posting the next part within 48 hours.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

I sat in the bathtub until the water ran cold, scrubbing my skin so raw that it stung, desperate to be sure all traces of the male I killed were rinsed away. This was far from my first time being covered in blood, but it certainly felt different knowing I was the one who drew it. When I was too cold and tired to sit in the water any longer, I got out, stifling a groan as my sore muscles protested. I tied my hair back into a loose braid, careful not to tug on the stitches at my temple, and donned the nightgown Nesta had left for me. As she predicted, it was too long for my frame, but fit well enough to be decent. When I was ready, I took a deep breath before stepping out of the bathing room, acutely aware that this was not how I had imagined seeing Cassian and Nesta’s bedroom for the first time.

The two of them stood when I entered, both rushing over like I was a newborn foal not sure on its feet. Despite all that had happened, the care they displayed made my heart squeeze in my chest. “We have food,” Nesta explained as Cassian took my elbow, gently guiding me to the edge of their bed. The mattress was larger than any I had ever seen, likely built to accommodate one or more sets of wings, and I couldn’t help but think it would do quite nicely fitting the three of us. Once I was settled in bed, a tray with steamed vegetables and bread was placed on my lap. Nesta crawled onto the bed, sitting at my left side while Cassian took a seat on the edge, watching me intently, his trademark humor gone from his eyes.

“I’m okay,” I felt the need to say, taking a tentative bite of the food. In truth, I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I figured a few bites would make the protective pair feel better.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Cassian said, eyebrows pinched together. “Nothing about what happened tonight is okay. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, for all of it.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I replied, forcing a small smile that was meant to be reassuring. “If anything it was mine… I didn’t check the peephole and I walked home alo—”

“Don’t say that,” said Cassian, “this was definitely not your fault.”

“It was that damned male’s fault, and Amarantha’s, not yours though,” Nesta added, “never yours.”

We sat in silence for several breaths as I thought of what to say next. I debated pushing down my feelings, locking the memory away, and asking them not to mention it, but the residual terror and heavy guilt that was weighing on me demanded to be felt. “I’ve never killed anyone before,” I whispered, looking down into my lap.

“You defended yourself,” Nesta replied, placing a gentle hand on my knee. “He killed himself when he attacked you. You did well.”

“I didn’t even try to save him though,” I argued, my heart rate beginning to rise once more as I flashed back to that moment, hours before when I sat frozen while he bled out before my eyes. “I didn’t—” a sob cut me off midsentence, the emotions I’d been suppressing returning in full force.

The tray disappeared from my lap and I was soon being pulled into a set of strong arms. Cassian hugged me, whispering soothing words as my cries turned into wails. Nesta had scooted closer to me on the bed, and I could feel her rubbing circles into my back as I wept. For how long we sat there, I wasn’t sure, but when my sobs finally ceased, turning into whines and sniffles, I was exhausted. “Do you want us to go?” Nesta asked when I had caught my breath. I shook my head furiously, grasping at Cassian’s shirt. I felt like I was at the edge of an abyss and they were the only thing keeping me from falling in headfirst.

Cassian nodded, shifting me with surprising ease until I was laying down in between the two of them. He stood, moving to extinguish the faelights while Nests slipped under the covers at my side. I turned towards her and she cupped my face with her hand, running her thumb across my cheekbone in gentle strokes. “I’m so sorry this happened,” she whispered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You’re here now,” I replied, leaning into her touch, “that’s what matters.”

“I was so, so scared,” she said, her grey eyes filling with tears, “when I smelled the blood. I was terrified that I might lose you before I even had you.” I swallowed thickly, reaching out to intertwine my hand with hers. Behind me, Cassian slid into bed wordlessly.

“Nothing like that is ever going to happen again,” Cassian said. “I won’t ever let you get hurt again, I swear it.”

“We swear it,” Nesta added, sounding resolute, and I felt the bond between us sing with the intensity of their promise. In a moment of boldness driven by pure emotion, I leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. Then I turned around to face Cassian and did the same, running my hand along his stubbled jawline as I did. Kissing Cassian felt far different than kissing Nesta, but it filled me with the same glowing warmth, soothing my aching heart as I did. Cassian was smiling when I pulled away, turning back towards Nesta so as not to put pressure on my sore ribs. He snuggled into bed behind me, resting an arm around my waist. “Is this okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered, settling into my mates’ embrace.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Madja left strict instructions that I was not to return to work until she cleared me, so I spent the days following the incident in the House of Wind with Cassian and Nesta. I spent much of that time in bed, resting my sore muscles and conserving energy so that my body would heal. Cassian or Nesta remained at my side at all times, and each night, we went to sleep together, with the two of them tucked against me on either side. The feeling of their warmth cocooning me was familiar, and it wasn’t until the second night that I realized I had experienced this before, in the dreams I had before I met them. Unlike in the dreams, though, I didn’t wake up in an empty bed, feeling like a piece of my soul was hollowed out. Instead, I was awoken each morning by one or both of my mates stirring, their gentle hands running along my back and through my hair, calling me from sleep. It was blissful to be so near to them, the contentment I felt when I was wrapped up between them was so deep it was nearly hypnotizing.

As the days passed and my body healed, I began to think about returning to my apartment. The thought made me shudder, but I didn’t want to outstay my welcome. We hadn’t discussed officially moving in together, only dancing around the subject from time to time, and I wanted to be sure they were certain about it before I made the House of Wind my home. Despite this, the thought of returning to that apartment made my stomach turn.

I pictured trying to sleep there alone with the blood-soaked floorboards and boarded-up window reminding me of what I had done. Imagining it made me feel cold all over, goose flesh appearing on my arms. I was thinking about it when Cassian walked out of the bathing room on the third day, and he seemed to pick up on my mood right away. “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. It was quite the sight: a big, strong warrior, one of the best that ever lived, his face soft with kindness and concern. My heart fluttered in my chest.

“Just—”, I almost told him but bit my tongue. I didn’t want to pressure them into inviting me to stay.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Cassian prompted his large hand encircling one of mine.

“I was just thinking about what happened,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Thinking about all the nice things you did to fix up my apartment, and now…” My throat constricted and I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“We’ll bring those things here,” Cassian said, squeezing my hand. “Or get you all new things, if you want.”

“Here?” I asked, avoiding his gaze.

“Or… if you’d prefer, we could get you a new apartment,” he didn’t seem enthused by the idea, something like disappointment seeping into his tone. “You don’t have to go back there. Ever again, if you don’t want to.”

“Do you— do you and Nesta want me to get a new apartment?” I asked, emboldened by Cassian’s sincerity.

“We…,” he hesitated, “we want…”

“We want you to move in here,” Nesta’s voice startled me, and I looked up to see her standing in the doorway. As usual, her silver eyes bored into mine, as though she was peering into my soul. I felt the bond between the three of us go taught. “But, that’s your decision to make.”

“You want me here?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

“Are we sure?” Nesta scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course, we want you here. If it were up to us we’d never leave your side again.”

“But we don’t want to pressure you,” Cassian added hastily.

“I want to go back to my apartment,” I said without thinking. Cassian and Nesta froze, exchanging a look reminiscent of heartbreak, and I rushed to clarify. “To see it one more time, before I move in here.”

Cassian’s face stretched into a wide grin and Nesta smiled and her expression was tender. They blew out a breath, perfectly in sync with one another, and the tension in the air dissolved. Before I could say more, Nesta was on me, her arms thrown around my neck as she all but tackled me onto the bed. I winced, my ribs smarting slightly, but leaned into her touch all the same, my body melting into hers. She pulled back, cradling my face between two soft hands, and pressed her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. I nibbled at her lower lips, my hands settling on either side of her hips, but just as I was about to go further, she pulled back. “Shit, your ribs. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” I said, blushing and breathless. To our side, Cassian chuckled lowly, his scent cedar smoke and fresh rain, had shifted slightly, a note of heady musk now faint in the air. Lust. Any nerves I had were flushed out by desire, and I squeezed my thighs together, moving once more toward Nesta. She stopped my advances with one hand on my chest, her touch scorching my skin through my thin nightgown. Her cheeks were tinged pink and her pupils were blown wide, drifting down to the swell of my breasts and then back up to my face.

“A few more days,” she whispered. “We need you in full health for what we have planned.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

‼️ Explicit Sexual Content - Minors Do Not Interact ‼️

Sleeping next to my mates for the next two nights was divine torment. Now that I was feeling better and all was right between the three of us, the lid we had on our physical attraction had been blown wide open. At night, my skin seemed to tingle beneath their touch and it was all I could do not to beg them to move forward with their plans. The feeling of Nesta’s soft curves pressed against my front, her silken legs tangling with mine as we slept was enough to make me ache with need. Likewise, Cassian’s hard body pressed against my spine, and the occasional brush of something stiff against my ass had moisture pooling between my thighs.

Sinful thoughts kept me awake, tormenting me with temptation that wouldn’t yield. Nesta’s slumbering form was particularly close to mine, and I pictured throwing my leg over her waist and grinding against her. I thought of how her nipples would harden, pebbling beneath her silk nightgown, and what it might feel like to slip the fabric over her head while Cassian ground his hips against me from behind. I imagined what it might feel like for him to hike up my nightgown and press into my cunt while Nesta—

My fantasy was interrupted by the star of the show himself, and I held my breath as I felt him stir behind me. He moved closer, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could whisper in my ear, “Did you have a good dream, my love?” he breathed out, the warm air on my neck sending shivers up my spine. The hand resting on my stomach moved slightly lower and pulled me backward, pressing my body flush against his. I felt his length twitch against my ass and let out a quiet moan. “Need some help?” he asked and I didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning.

I was so distracted by Cassian’s roaming hand that I didn’t notice Nesta awaken until her hand was settling on the curve of my waist. “You smell divine,” she whispered, placing an open mouth kiss on the hollow of my throat, “and needy.”

“Should we give her some relief, Nes?” Cassian asked, nibbling at my ear lobe. I whimpered and Nesta let out a cruel, breathy chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Nesta whispered, her eyes not leaving my face, “has she been a good girl?” She lifted her knee slightly and grazed my sex, applying the slightest bit of pressure and then pulling back before I could buck my hips for more friction.

“I think,” Cassian said, his hand slipping lower until it rested mere centimeters from where I wanted it, “she’s been a very good girl.” His hand pressed between my thighs, rubbing through fabric, and I gasped.

As Cassian’s hand drifted lower, sliding under the hem of my nightgown at an excruciatingly slow pace, Nesta’s hands slide higher, cupping my breasts. At the same time, Cassian’s hand reached my cunt, and Nesta’s brushed over my nipple. I arched my back, moaning as Cassian’s fingers slid across my slit, dancing over my clit in teasing strokes. Nesta kissed me then, deep and more passionately than ever before. Her tongue probed against my lips in time with the movement of Cassian’s fingers, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they had me undone.

Indeed, moments later Cassian dipped a single, thick finger inside my core, his palm grinding against my clit and sending me over the edge. I released a breathless yelp that should have been embarrassing, but my climax was so intense I didn’t care. My legs shook and my toes pointed as I squeezed my thighs together around Cassian’s hand. Nesta kissed me deeper and I felt Cassian’s mouth nip at the base of my neck. In the end, I was panting as I relax between the two of them, feeling utterly boneless and blissed out. Nesta giggled affectionately, running her fingers through my hair, and Cassian’s rough hand slid down my thigh, massaging the still-tense muscles. “There,” Nesta murmured, “now you can sleep.”

“What about you two?” I asked, my eyes already drooping. I was always the type to get sleepy after sex, but the contentment I felt then was like a sleeping draught.

“Don’t worry about us, love,” Cassian replied, the rumble of his deep voice reverberating through me.

“I want more,” I whined, my eyes already falling shut. I wanted to fight it, to demand we continue what we started and go back to chasing heaven with the two of them, but I’d never been more comfortable in my life.

Cassian chuckled and Nesta pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Soon, my love,” she whispered. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” I drifted off shortly after that, into a deep, dreamless sleep.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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yancherrysoda · 9 months

Text

Whispers of the Stars

One piece of advice I’ve read is to write down the thing you’ve been thinking about, even if it’s not in chronological order. Don’t put those ideas aside and wait just because it’s not for the next chapter.

I daydream a lot, and this has been marinating inside my head for so long so I said, "Let’s sit down and write it."

The next fics will for sure be the 1-month and 6-month later oneshots, even though I already have some ideas scribbled on my notes for the smut lol (This oneshot is extra; I made a master list with all the chapters; link)

Warnings: attempted sa(?)

Wordcount: 3.613

“Would you like anything else?” You asked the woman sitting at the table in front of you.

She looked up from the menu. “Actually, I have a rather unusual request,” she replied, and you leaned in, holding the tray closer to your chest. “If it’s not too much trouble, I would like a bowl of ice cream topped with pickles and hot sauce.”

You stared at her; your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as if she had spoken a language from some distant world. Ice cream topped with pickles and hot sauce? Who in their right mind would order that?

The woman placed a hand on your shoulder. “Sorry. You seem very serious, and I wanted to lighten the mood.” She smiled at you. “What’s the reason you’re working so hard, dear?”

You stood up straight and returned her smile. “Oh, it’s nothing important; just trying to make ends meet.” You replied. “I also need the money to buy a generous amount of apples for my pet rabbit. He has quite the appetite.”

She chuckled. “A pet rabbit? That’s adorable! What’s his name?”

You bit the corners of your cheeks, trying to suppress a laugh. “Venti.”

“In that case, could I request Moonpie, pancakes, and berry juice?”

“Certainly, Moonpie, pancakes, and a glass of berry juice coming right up!” You scribbled down her order and made your way into the kitchen. While you waited for the meal, you rushed over to the bar and began to prepare the drink.

“Pet rabbit?” You heard Diluc ask behind you and turned to see him cleaning a glass with a rag.

“I mean,” you giggled, carefully pouring the vibrant berry juice into a tall glass and watching the rich colors swirl together. “Did you want me to tell her I have a human friend whose diet consists of apples and wine?”

Diluc snorted, setting the clean glass down. “No, I think the pet rabbit story is much more entertaining.”

You curled your lips in amusement at his reply, grateful for the lightheartedness he brought to your day. Working at Angel’s Share has been tough lately, but moments like this have helped you through it.

The bell rang with a clear chime that echoed through the kitchen, signaling that the order was ready. You quickly moved to the counter, grabbed the Moonpie along with the plate full of pancakes, and hurried back to the woman’s table. She looked delighted as you placed the dishes in front of her.

“Oh my, this looks delicious!” She exclaimed. “Thank you, dear.”

“I’ll be right back with your drink.” You let her know before scurrying back to the bar. As you approached it, you felt Diluc tap your shoulder.

“This is for you,” he said, handing you a piece of paper. “It’s from your pet rabbit.”

You unfolded the paper and read the message, neatly written in elegant handwriting. It simply said: ‘Meet me at Windrise.’

“When did he give it to you?”

“This morning,” he uttered simply.

You grabbed the drink and made your way back to the woman’s table, setting it down next to her meal. “Here is your berry juice. Sorry for the delay.”

“No need to apologize! I’ll make sure to leave a generous tip for your excellent service.”

You thanked her and went to the other tables, making sure everyone was enjoying their meals.

As your shift was coming to a close and the tavern had cleared out, you strolled around tidying up the tables, thinking about Venti's letter. What was he up to this time?

As your thoughts wandered, a throat-clearing noise came from behind, and you spun around to see a man in his fifties seated at the corner table.

“How can I assist you today?” You asked warily, not recognizing him as a regular patron.

He looked up at you with a stern expression. He was rather big, and his face had a craggy, weathered look. His hair, thick and black as coal, was striped with gray and white here and there and was combed back from his forehead in an old-fashioned style that made him seem a bit formal. His eyes were the perfect shade of steel gray, almost like water reflecting the sun. “I’ve been waiting for my order for quite some time now. Is there a problem in the kitchen?”

“My apologies.” You bowed a couple of times. “What was the order? I’ll get it for you right—”

The man interjected, gesturing dismissively with his hand. “Is this how customers are treated here?” he spat and stood up from his chair. He then walked over to you and grabbed your wrist, almost painfully. He leaned in closer, which made you take a couple steps back and meet the table’s edge.

“Sir, I apologize for the inconvenience you have experienced. If you allowed me to go check on the order to resolve this issue—” you were interrupted again.

“That won’t do,” he declared, trapping you between him and the table.

You swiftly stepped aside, releasing yourself from his grip, but he grabbed you by the legs and pushed you onto the table. It screeched loudly as it scraped against the floor as your back made contact with the surface. You desperately attempted to free yourself from him again, yet he kept an ironclad grip on you by the feet.

As you were about to call for help, you heard a loud crash and saw pieces of glass fly around the establishment. Diluc had come rushing over, swinging a bottle of wine at the man’s head, effectively knocking him out cold. He then quickly helped you off the table and inspected you up and down. “Did he hurt you?”

You vigorously shook your head. “No, I’m okay.”

Diluc breathed a sigh of relief before he turned his attention to the unconscious man on the floor.

You walked around the scene, trying to avoid stepping over the shattered pieces of glass or slipping on the spilled liquid, as he quickly maneuvered the situation, calling for staff to clean up the mess, and then escorted you out of the building through the back door.

He settled you into one of the outdoor chairs, his eyes filled with worry as he fixed his gaze on you. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Who would have thought one of our customers would be stupid enough to assault someone when there are still people inside the building.”

Your body trembled as the aftermath of what had happened sank in, but soon you managed to compose yourself and offer him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He patted your head. “Venti would have killed me if something happened to you.”

You thanked him once more before you stood up and returned to the tavern with him.

“You should leave earlier today; I’m sure Venti will be happy to spend more time with you.”

“But the glass—”

“I’ll deal with that.” He curved his lips into a brief smile and gave you a slight nod before he turned away.

You stayed in the tavern for a few more minutes to collect your thoughts before you finally went to change out of your uniform, gathered your belongings, and headed out through the main door.

As you strolled up the street, you took in the sights of all the various shops. They were stacked with glimmering merchandise, from kitchen appliances to boxes full of shiny toys. It was a rabbit-warren maze of shimmering possibilities, and in the background, you could hear the rhythmic thump-thump of cash registers ringing up sales. You eventually came across a fruit stand run by an elderly couple. The man was on the other side of it, weighing various fruits and sorting them into bags.

“Hello!” You called out to them. “May I please buy a small bag of apples?”

The woman turned around and smiled at the familiar face before her. “Is it for that young lad?” She asked, and you nodded. She then reached under the counter and pulled out a paper bag with a few apples inside. “That’ll be 960 mora, please,” she said.

You took out the money you had saved up from your service job to pay for the apples, wished her a good evening, and left.

You then walked out of the city and onto a bridge that overlooked a serene lake, clutching the bag of apples in your hand tightly. As the sun set, the streets took on a warm, golden glow. It was a sprawling organism, teeming with life. Its veins of streets and avenues ran all through the concrete web, each section of its organic shapes communicating with each other to create one living entity. The day’s hustle and bustle gradually subsided as people walked hurriedly on the sidewalks without care or disruption, except for the occasional laughter coming out of restaurants after dinner.

At last, you stepped on the path; it was faint and slightly overgrown with grass and weeds. Glimpses of man-made foundations were visible through spots in the foliage—broken stone walls or cobblestone streets that had been ripped apart by nature's reclaiming fingers. It was peaceful here; cool breezes blew through old trees, carrying fragrances from long-forgotten gardens.

The path began to rise up a hill from which you could see an incredibly vast and wide landscape of trees and bushes spread out before you, and as you approached the giant tree, you could hear the distant strumming of a lyre.

Venti lifted his head to look at your figure emerging from the pathway. “Oh! You’re early.” His face lit up with joy, and he couldn't contain his enthusiasm, jumping to his feet in an instant.

You dropped the bag of apples and ran up to him, your arms spread wide. Your legs were dangling in the air as he spun you around, cradling you against his chest as he drew you closer. However, due to the sheer force of the spin, you both lost balance and landed in the pond that was around the tree. The water enveloped you, its cool touch sending a shiver through your entire body. You opened your eyes to see Venti floating in front of you with his cheeks puffed, and even through the warped water, you could sense the fun-loving glint in his eyes.

He swam up to you and wrapped his arms around you, helping you swim back up. When you got to the surface, Venti’s face softened into a gentle smile as one of his hands held your waist and the other cradled the back of your head. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support and coughed, trying to get the water out of your lungs before saying, “Sorry.”

His laughter rippled through the air like waves, bright and contagious.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t something I expected to experience today.” He helped you swim back to the edge of the pond, grabbing onto a nearby rock for support. He then swept his hand up to his forehead, pushing back the strands of hair that clung to it, and propped his chin in the palm of his hand, looking at you. “I didn’t know you were so happy to see me, my angel.”

The two of you then assisted each other in getting out of the water. You grabbed your shirt and twisted it in a number of places to squeeze out as much water as possible from the fabric, and then tilted your head forward to allow the drops to flow towards the tips as you squeezed them out of your strands.

After you were finished, you looked at him do the same thing to his clothes. You couldn’t help but notice his chest peeking through the wet shirt, and you quickly averted your gaze in embarrassment.

You walked up to the bag of apples lying on the floor and grabbed it, then made your way to the tree and sat under it with your back resting against the trunk. He joined you, still dripping wet, wringing the water from his braids.

You turned to him and said, “I brought you a little something.” You then opened the bag, and he reached a hand into it to pull out one of the crisp red apples.

His eyes lit up in excitement, and a broad smile spread across his face. “You always know the way to my heart.” He then took a bite out of it, savoring its sweetness.

Each crunch and swallow were like sweet honey on his tongue. The juice ran down his chin and stained his fingers slightly, but he didn’t care since, for him, this was all part of the pleasure of enjoying a fruit from the Gods.

“How was your day?” He asked after a while.

You sighed deeply, your chest heaving and your shoulders sagging as the air left your lungs. “Exhausting.” You told him about your job, some of the rude customers, and the working hours. Venti listened attentively, never once interrupting you as you spoke.

He nodded his head in understanding and sat in deep, thoughtful silence for a while. “Rude customers?”

You raised your head, looking at the leaves of the giant tree above you. They were so large that they blocked out the sky. “Yeah,” you said slowly. “Some days I just don’t know why I put up with them. It seems like a never-ending cycle of customer complaints and unhappy faces.”

Venti nodded solemnly. “Can you tell me more about that?”

You placed a hand on your chin. “Well, some people feel entitled to the servers’ attention and would sometimes make a scene, but nothing too crazy. They even would get me involved, but as I said, it’s nothing too serious.” You waved off the thought, looking away. “Besides, Diluc and the other staff help me handle it, like today.”

“Today?” He asked, his voice loud. “What happened today?”

“Nothing much.” You uttered the words in a high-strung, dismissive voice. “This late afternoon, one of the customers got a bit too loud and said something about not having enough alcohol. Since Diluc is most of the time at the counter of the bar serving drinks, he had a good view of everything that was happening on the first floor, so he was there to help and defuse the situation.”

Venti pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, his body leaning against the tree trunk. “You should consider getting a new job. There’s someone I know in Liyue that could offer you a different one. You won’t have to deal with bad customers, and the payment is pretty good as far as I know.”

“No way! I’m not going all the way to Liyue for a part-time job!” You shouted out. “Besides, this one pays me well.”

He leaned in closer to you, water droplets from his damp hair rolling down his neck. “It doesn’t make sense to me. Are you really willing to deal with that kind of people and risk your safety?”

You leaned back, your eyes darting from side to side. You tried hard not to look at him directly. “Look. I might have made it sound like there’s a battlefield going on there from time to time, but it’s not,” you clarified. “And whether I decide to keep working there or not is between me and God, not you.” You glanced at the statue in front of you.

Venti looked at the statue of himself, then back at you. “What if God doesn’t want you to work there either?”

“Then he will have to come down from Celestia and say it to my face.” You crossed your arms and lifted your chin. “But judging by the fact that he hasn’t shown up in a thousand years, I doubt he would do that just to tell me where I should or shouldn’t work.” You pouted, your bottom lip jutting out. “Anyway,” you said, looking back at him. “Why did you want me to meet you here?”

He stood up and gestured for you to follow him. “I wanted to take you somewhere.”

The path to Starsnatch Cliff was lined with trees that were running wild. The evening air had a refreshing coolness, and the night sky was illuminated by the dying embers of the sunset, with orange and red hues reflecting off the cracked and weathered bark of each tree. As you made your way up the hill, you could feel every rock and twig grinding beneath your feet before they melted away into damp grass at the top.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been here together,” he said. “It’s one of the prettiest places in Mondstadt, besides the main city and Windrise, of course.” Reaching the summit of the hill, he settled on the edge with his legs dangling over, gazing out into the night sky.

You ventured over to him, and he extended his hand to aid you in settling down next to him. “It's very high," you breathed out as your hand firmly grasped his.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you go.” He reassured you.

You sat perched on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the breathtaking view that lay before you. It was a captivating landscape, dotted with lush green grasses, and in the far distance, an endless ocean met the horizon, reflecting the silver moon above.

“What’s that? It looks like a constellation.” You pointed up.

He looked up at the sky, where a million stars shone down, twinkling like glitter on black velvet. Some of them were more prominent than others, glowing brighter and seemingly linking together to create patterns. “It’s called Carmen Dei.”

“Whose is it?”

He leaned back, supporting his body with his hands. “It’s Barbatos’ constellation. Its name translates as Song of God.”

“You seem to know a lot of things about him; are you two close or something?”

Venti cleared his throat. “I don’t know him personally, but taking in mind what people say about him, we seem to have a lot in common.” He smiled at you. He then glanced up at the stars again, running his fingers through the strings of the lyre. “You know, the stars are truly sublime, having seen the rise and fall in every clime. Stories untold they've witnessed with emotion added on, a timeless beauty that will never be undone.”

His lyrical response caught you by surprise, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His words painted a vivid picture of the stars as celestial storytellers, silently watching over the world and preserving its tales throughout time.

“I didn’t expect such a beautiful answer,” you said. “I think I’m starting to understand why you’re a three-time winner of the Most Popular Bard of Mondstadt”

“Right.” Venti beamed proudly.

You stretched and laid on the ground. High above, an ethereal island floated in the sky. “Do the stars hold stories about Celestia too?”

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. “Maybe.”

“I tried searching for information about that island during my library visits but couldn’t find anything; it’s like it doesn’t exist, yet I can clearly see it up in the sky!” You extended your arms up towards Celestia. “It feels like it's forbidden to talk about, yet I sense that there must be some knowledge written somewhere, deliberately kept from the public eye.”

Venti swallowed hard and squirmed in his seat, nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah.” He lied.

You sat up straight and enveloped him in your arms, lovingly stroking his head. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier.”

He leaned his head against your shoulder and wrapped one arm securely around your waist, while his other hand gently held yours. “Don’t be. I’m actually glad we fell into the pond.” He tenderly nuzzled your neck. “I’m glad you were so happy to see me.”

You both sat together in the stillness of the moment, the silence eventually interrupted by you. “Do you ever wonder how we got here? I mean, how was the world created.”

“You're very inquisitive today,” Venti remarked. “Your curiosity knows no bounds.” He scratched his nose. “I happen to know something about that.”

You sat with your legs crossed, flapping them excitedly like the wings of a butterfly.

“Hear me out. In other, distant worlds, Pangu gave his blood to form the rivers and seas. The Gods sacrificed Purusha and cut his body to pieces, and then fashioned all living beings with those parts.” He paused thoughtfully. “The flesh of the giant Ymir became the Earth, the skull became the heavens, and the brains became clouds. Their sacrifices seeded life in the unliving cosmos.”

You shivered at the thought of Gods sacrificing themselves in order to create life. Venti noticed this and put his hand on yours again, giving it a light squeeze.

“Uh, who are those people?” You asked. “Where did they come from?”

“Pangu is the first living being in the universe who separated heaven and Earth and then became geographic features such as mountains.” He looked at the horizon. “Purusha was a cosmic being whose sacrifice by the Gods created all life, just like Ymir.”

You let out a deep sigh as you processed what he had just said. “Sounds pretty dark.”

“I can see that.”

“But it’s entertaining to listen to you talk about these kinds of things. You’re very smart.”

Venti hummed. “And what else?”

“What else?”

He chuckled, his voice full of amusement. “Yes, what else? Perhaps charming, dashing, handsome? Any other qualities you might find attractive?”

You nudged him playfully. “What you are is full of yourself.”

#venti x reader #venti x y/n #lord barbatos #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fluff #diluc

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