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superprincesspea · 15 hours
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Courted by the Dragon
Chapter 15 - Forfeit
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Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.
Masterlist
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When your mother and sisters break away to join the queen in the wheelhouse, you’re taken to the stable where the horse waiting for you is a chestnut mare with a little white patch between her eyes. 
“Flare,” the groom calls her, and she does not look pleased to see you. 
In fact, she snorts when you offer her your hand, her foot stamping on the hay, and you think the only thing worse than a long ride to the Kingswood, was to do it on a horse that already hated you. 
Still, it wasn’t really the riding you minded so much as the company, Aemond’s company to be precise, though you had not yet seen him. 
“Your saddle, my lady,” the groom says, interrupting your thoughts before presenting you with a fine brown side-saddle, its leather work embossed with dragons and ivy. 
“I shall be riding astride this morning,” you tell him, deciding there was no way you would ride an untested horse without the complete control of both your legs. 
“But this saddle is a gift from the Queen!” The groom retorts, looking completely aghast at your suggestion, his brow knitted and his words curt despite your rank. 
A gift? Surely not.  
Yet , the brass work is all shiny and new, the leather without cracks or marks to sully the pattern. But the most startling detail, which you’re not quite sure how you’d missed before, is the pommel, where the first letter of your name entwines with a dragon. 
For a gift, it’s certainly an extravagant one and hardly fitting for the third daughter of Borros Baratheon.  
You’ve never even had your own saddle before and refusal feels so awfully rude you hardly dare to say it, yet, if Alicent wanted you to travel to the Kingswood with the men, then you should be free to ride like one too.  
“That may be so,” you say, chin up, defiant , “but I shall be riding astride or not at all.”  
And to be perfectly honest, you didn’t want to be riding around on a lavish gift detailed for a Targaryen either.  
What would people think?  
What was Alicent thinking? 
“You heard the Lady,” Aemond’s voice causes you to start as he appears by your side, his presence enough to force the groom to submit to your wishes without another word.  
But you don’t thank him, you’re too busy trying not to think about how he’d asked you to marry him the last time you’d spoke. Yet you can think of little else. 
“This is the horse they have given you?” he says, his foot easing onto the bottom rung of the fence, his tone enough to confirm your fears.   
“Is there something wrong with her?” you ask, a sinking feeling pulling at your stomach. 
“Not if you enjoy unruly beasts.” 
You meet his eye, and a smile twitches at his lips before he glances over your shoulder. 
“Boy ,” he calls to the stable hand hovering in the background, “is there no other horse to saddle for the lady?” 
The boy shrugs, his attention darting around nervously before finally admitting, “the queen requested Flare personally , my prince.” 
“Hmm ,” Aemond’s jaw tightens, his finger drumming on the fence as the groom returns with a new saddle. This one black with yet more dragons.  
“Have my lady saddled on Ōños and I shall ride Flare,” Aemond tells him. 
“But -” the groom half protests, neither wanting to disobey his queen or his prince. 
“You'd rather my lady was thrown from the horse?” Aemond says, and it's not a question, his tone is sharp, commanding.  
Aemond gets what Aemond wants. 
“You need not switch horses with me,” you tell him, when the groom scurries away again, thinking you do not wish to have a prince of the realm thrown from a horse on your account. 
But he shrugs, unconcerned, “I am the superior rider, so it only makes sense for you to have the easier horse.” 
You can’t help but laugh, amused by the utter certainty of the words coming from his mouth and, even if you were quite sure they were true, it was such an arrogant thing to say that you felt compelled to refute it. 
“Tell me,” you say, eyes wide, “is there a reason his grace already considers himself superior when he has never even seen me ride?” 
“You have seen my dragon, yes ?” 
“Briefly , but this is not a dragon, it's a horse.” 
His eye slides to Flare then back to you, “I trained on horseback every day of my childhood before acquiring Vhagar then three times a week after that. How often do you ride, my Lady?” 
"Six times a week, when I am home,” you answer, with so much confidence you almost believe it. But you would not be bested yet again, and you were certainly no novice since your father, who’d always longed for sons, had insisted on frequent practice.  
A fresh smile quivers at Aemond's lips, his brow raised, "is that so? Then perhaps my lady will need to come to my aid when I am struggling to keep up with her?” 
You picture Aemond on a wild bucking horse and can’t help but laugh, “I must say, it shall be difficult to aid his grace if I am too busy making fun of him.” 
“Oh, I have no doubt in that regard, Lady Baratheon,” he says, seeming to almost enjoy the prospect, before the groom returns with the new horse, all saddled and ready, and certainly not what you expected. 
The horse Aemond had ridden at the tourney was a destrier, strong, fierce and entirely black. But this one is smaller, a palfrey perhaps, with a pure white coat and mane, so bright and unblemished, he almost looks as though he cannot be real. 
“What did you say his name was?” you ask, words formed with a gasp. 
“Ōños.” 
“Is that Valyrian?” 
“It means ‘Light’,” he answers, his hand pressing to your lower back, guiding you closer, “he was a name day present from my Grandsire when I was a boy.” 
“Hello Ōños,” you whisper, stretching your arm to offer him the scent of your hand and he nuzzles into you, allowing you to stroke the spot right between his big dark eyes.   
“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him, moving to pet his neck and run your fingers through the wiry bristles of his glossy mane. “And such a good boy...” you add, admiring him more with each pet, “so gentle... so calm...” 
“You offer more praise to this horse than you have ever given your prince,” Aemond says and you’re not sure if he’s scolding you or teasing you, as he moves to ensure your saddle is tight around Ōños waist. 
“Are there not ladies enough at court who praise his grace?” 
“None that matter .” 
“Very well ,” you say, clearing your throat as though your heart isn’t fluttering, “I believe my prince has the most wonderful horse.” Then you laugh, petting Ōños again, “or is that just further praise for you, sweet boy?” 
Aemond snorts and you look back at him with yet more laughter. 
“If my lady offers crumbs, I shall eat them heartily,” he says, extending his hand to help you mount. 
“I have no need for assistance,” you decide, thinking you were finding his company unbearable enough without the touch of his hand, as you take the reins and secure your foot in the stirrup. 
But Aemond grasps your waist to help you anyway. Easing you up and over, the skirt of your gown rising to the very top of your thigh with the motion, so you feel the coolness of the air as it hits the bare skin above your stocking. 
Gods . 
You look down, just in time with Aemond, who reaches eagerly for your hem, as though he is a gentleman.  
Yet , as he pulls the skirt back down the length of your leg, his progress is marked with the delicate touch of his fingers in a way that cannot possibly be accidental.  
Gods. Gods. Gods.  
He meets your frozen stare, his eye dark, and you should say something.  
Anything !  
But your breath is trapped in your chest, and you can only give thought to the almost unbearable rush of tingles which have hurried excitedly to some deep, unreachable place in your core. 
Then he smiles, and it's not a wicked smile, its content , satisfied , and you hate it, almost as much as you hate the way he takes hold of Ōños’ bridle, leading you out into the yard as though nothing is amiss.  
Yet, what was the alternative? For him to gloat? Or worse, for him to say one of the thoughts which seemed to race behind the look in his eye?  
You didn’t want that . What you wanted, was for you to say something. To react. To scold him. To remind him you were a Lady of house Baratheon and not to be treated as such.  
With all of this in mind, and the tingles subsided enough for you to breathe,  you shift forward in the saddle, so your words can reach him despite your hushed tone.  
“Do not imagine you can take such liberties with me again,” you say, and Aemond stops before he turns to look at you, his smile more wicked than you have ever seen it. 
“You give me little credit, Lady Baratheon, my imagination is far more creative than that.” 
You frown, not quite understanding his meaning, then understanding it all at once and your gasp is quickly followed by a glare.  
“If I told my father what you just did, he would have your hand!” 
“If you told your father,” he begins, the wicked look on his face turning decidedly smug, “he would give me your hand, and I’m quite willing to test the theory if you are, my lady?” 
He's right, of course , and that only adds more fuel to your temper, though in a yard brimming with people, you can only seethe in silence. Looking at anything but the prince as the morning sun beams down so pleasantly you could scream. 
Seven Hells!  
You’re beyond grateful when the groom arrives with Flare, providing you momentary relief from Aemond’s unwavering attention, as he moves to inspect his own saddle, before mounting her in one smooth motion which she does not take kindly to.  
She stomps in protest, and Aemond pulls at her reins, his hand on her neck, his words low and inaudible in the busy yard, as he gets her under control. 
“We should leave before everyone else,” he says when she has calmed, reaching for Ōños’ bridle again and pulling him in time with Flare. 
“We should wait,” you insist, glancing to where Ser Maurin is talking with some of the other men, none of them yet mounted on horseback. 
"And get stuck trudging through the droppings of a dozen horses all morning?”  
Your nose crinkles at the idea and, when Aemond smiles, you imagine he’s thinking something along the lines of, ‘that’s what I thought’ , as he continues to lead you towards the open gates. 
When you make it as far as the wheelhouse, you peek in through the slatted windows, catching just a glimpse of your sisters talking excitedly with the queen before Aemond releases your bridle and kicks his horse into a trot. 
But you don’t follow, you pull on the reins, stopping Ōños since you’re in little doubt that following Aemond will be a mistake. 
Yet, you can’t deny the part of you that wants to do it anyway. Because despite what you like to think about yourself, or honour and decorum, there’s a thrill to Aemond’s company that you find irritatingly compelling. 
Why was that? You wonder, thinking how safe and easy a ride would be with Tyland Lannister by your side. But he isn’t even invited, you realise now. It’s only your family, Aemond’s family and the guards.  
Drawing your hand across the reins, you half-heartedly tell yourself to turn back towards Ser Maurin, where you will be safe from any further improprieties or proposals of marriage, but that’s not what you do.  
Perhaps you can blame Ōños, who reacts quickly to even the slightest hint of pressure from your feet. But that would be a lie.  
It's your decision to chase Aemond, and Ōños is only too happy to gallop through the yard, as you were sure he’d done countless times before. And it's reckless to ride like this, with so many people in your path, but you seem to have left all common sense in the stable, so why stop now? 
You jump a cart filled with apples, overtaking Aemond’s lead, and he was right . You didn’t want to spend the morning trudging behind the wheelhouse. You wanted to fly, and the Kings Road stretches ahead with barely an obstacle in your path. 
Ōños, seeming to sense your excitement, picks up speed with little encouragement, dashing through the gates, his hooves pounding the earth so hard you can feel your hair slipping from its pins.  
Your horse at Storms End could never run like this , he’s far too old and far too lazy. But Ōños is so powerful he feels unstoppable, yet you must stop, knowing you will quickly leave the procession behind entirely if you keep going. 
You tighten your legs, pulling at his reins and he comes to a halt quickly, obediently, turning when you pull the rein again, so you can look back, and see that Aemond’s horse has barely run half the length of yours.  
Instead, she’s picking at the brambled hedges which flank part of the path and Aemond is trying desperately to coax her back into his command. 
You stifle your laughter, trotting closer. 
“Does his grace require my aid so soon?” you tease, more than a little pleased by the look of frustration on his face. 
Aemond bites back a grimace, his words laced with exasperation and spoken in High Valyrian as he pulls tightly on the reins. But Flare gives into his insistence at her own pace, taking one last bite of the sun ripened fruits before moving on. 
“Perhaps you should ride at the back of the procession after all?” you tease again, noticing the wheelhouse is now ambling its path through the gate. 
“Or perhaps I should abandon Flare with a squire, and we can ride pillion as I’m sure my mother intended?” 
“Ha ,” you scoff, your eyes narrowing with a dare which should not be coming from your lips, yet you’re feeling so pleased with the situation that it sneaks out anyway, “you’ll have to catch us first.” 
Aemond’s eye darkens, his hand snatching to grab your wrist before missing entirely, “is that a promise?” 
You don’t answer but you enjoy the adrenaline which pumps in your veins. Yet, why not enjoy it? For once, you’re the one with the upper hand and it feels good, you want to toy with him like he always toys with everyone else. 
Unable to contain your smile, you lead Ōños in a circle around Flare, careful to keep just out of reach before you kick him into another gallop which Aemond tries, but fails, to keep up with.  
Yet, as always, Aemond is not interested in losing. So, instead of chasing you for miles of road, he turns, heading back to the gold cloaks who are leading the procession before dismounting to switch horses with what looks like Ser Willis. 
His new horse is a deep hazelnut brown and much more obedient than Flare, so now the chase is really on, as he seems to fly towards you without any hesitation on the horse's part.  
“Come on,” you say excitedly to Ōños, adrenaline still beating in your veins as you kick him into action, charging down the road and leaving Aemond to race through clouds of dust instead of the ones you’re sure he’s more accustomed to. 
You keep your lead, all the way to where the road splits into a fork, and you’re forced to slow into a trot, unsure of which route to take. 
“Caught you,” Aemond says, grabbing Ōños’ bridle so he can pull you both towards him and you roll your eyes. 
“You didn’t catch us,” you tell him, allowing yourself to feel as smug as Aemond usually is, “I stopped.” 
“A promise is a promise, Lady Baratheon,” he tries to remind you, your horses turning in a tight circle to keep you together. 
“I don’t recall promising you anything .” 
His jaw tightens, frustrated, but his eye smiles, “you’ll deny your prince his reward?” 
“I’ll deny a cheater ,” you retort, nodding to the horse between his legs, “you were supposed to be riding Flare.” 
He releases Ōños’ bridle, a long breath blowing through his nose, “I did not wish to lose.” 
“Nor have you won.” 
He laughs, his gaze scraping across your lips, “how about a race then? First to the camp shall choose a forfeit for the loser.” 
You scoff, feeling a little uneasy at the prospect.  
You were already too far ahead of the wheelhouse and feeling quietly certain that there would have been some raised brows at the way you and Aemond had raced ahead of the procession. 
Yet, that’s not what you say, or what’s really holding you back, “I do not know the route.”  
“It’s only one road from here to camp and Ōños has done it a hundred times.” 
You give him a pointed look, “as have you .” 
Aemond bites back whatever expression wants to grace his face, “you’re afraid I’ll win? You have the better horse.” 
If you refuse him, it would be as good as admitting you thought he was the superior rider after all, and you were not about to do that . “I’m not afraid.” 
“Then prove it.” 
“Well...” your heart pounds, “what exactly is the forfeit?” 
His smile fills his cheeks, his eye looking as blue as the sky behind him. 
“When you win, you can tell me,” he says, and you pretend you’re only half considering the bet as you line Ōños up, so it will be a straight shot when you kick him into action. 
“See you there! ” you call over your shoulder, racing ahead and unable to contain the burst of laughter which cackles mischievously from your chest. 
Now was your chance to best him once and for all and you were not going to squander it, except , Aemond doesn’t follow behind. He jumps the farmers fence, racing his horse through the field and you really should have known better.  
In Cyvasse he was always ten steps ahead, so why should this be any different? 
Yet, instead of giving up, you only push harder, pressing Ōños to go faster, leaning into every turn as tightly as possible and trying to keep your eyes ahead instead of searching for a dragon. Perhaps that's what he wanted, for you to lose focus, for you to assume his victory. But he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed winning. 
You can see the clearing in the distance, see white tents and staff already milling around to ensure everything is prepared for the queen’s arrival. But you can’t see Aemond and that makes you nervous. 
You shift your weight forward, almost crouching to gain momentum, just as Aemond’s horse jumps through the trees, landing mere paces ahead of you on the road. 
But, while his horse must slow to right itself after such a jump, you and Ōños are only moving faster.  
You speed ahead and you can feel him tight on your heels as you make it right into the centre of camp. 
“Woah,” you tell Ōños, who seems intent on charging straight through the clearing and beyond, and you're grinning from ear to ear when you circle back to meet the miserable expression on Aemond’s face. 
Victory had never felt sweeter, and you intended to gloat. 
“You look quite unhappy, your grace,” you say, panting as you try to catch your breath. 
Aemond doesn’t reply, and you suspect he is a sore loser of the worst variety, as he kicks his leg over the horse with a frown, before handing the reins to a groom whose probably been standing around since dawn. 
“I only wish everyone was here to see how I beat you,” you add, determined to salt the wound but Aemond’s frown is soon smoothed into a reluctant smile. 
"Congratulations,” he says, taking your waist and pulling you from the horse so you’re securely in his embrace.  
“Though I must admit,” he whispers, still holding you tightly, “I would much prefer my lady to be the one doing the forfeiting.” 
You’d forgotten about that part, winning had been pleasure enough alone but a fresh smile brightens your face before you push his arms away. 
“Hmm ,” you say teasingly, strolling through the small stretch of camp with Aemond as your shadow, “what's a good forfeit for the most repugnant man in the world?”  
He coughs out a laugh, and you already know precisely what his forfeit needs to be, if you are to make it through this picnic with any sense of decorum, but you don’t say it, not yet .  
You keep walking, and quickly make your way past the clearing, to where the forest grows beautifully lush and dense, and if you were to choose a picnic spot, it would be this . Not the cover of a tent with servants to bend to your every whim, but here, where the trees tangle with the undergrowth and the only thing you can hear is the unmistakable chorus of the woodland.  
“Are you going to tell me or not?” he says, and his impatience makes you want to hold your tongue for as long as possible, but you take small comfort in knowing you’re just about to annoy him. 
“Your forfeit,” you say, turning to look at him, “shall be to stay at least 20 paces away from me for the duration of the picnic.”  
It might not be very exciting, but it was the only forfeit which made any sense if you didn’t want to spend the entire day wrapped up in his company. 
His eye narrows, his head tilting, “and if I don’t?” 
You laugh, half amused, half annoyed, "then you shall be obliged to complete an even more humiliating feat!” 
Aemond’s jaw ticks, “such as?”  
You glance to where the river rolls lazily in the distance and think of all the times he’s mocked you for that day on the beach, “how about a dip in the water, since you like suggesting it so much?” 
Aemond snorts, moving closer, “my lady only wishes to punish me when I think she would have found her forfeit very enjoyable indeed.” 
Now it's your turn to snort, “if my forfeit was to marry you, then you are mistaken.” 
He grins, his eye meeting yours, “I cannot marry you in the Kingswood, but I do find it interesting that you would conjure the idea so readily.”
“I -” you start, your cheeks reddening but he was right. He hadn't said anything about marriage, that was all you .  
Seeming to eat up yet another portion of your embarrassment, he unclasps his cloak, letting it fall to a pile on the forest floor.  
“What are you doing?” you say, confused , though your gaze holds a keen interest in the way his long fingers begin loosening the buttons on his doublet. 
“You said so yourself, if I cannot stay away from you, then I must take a dip in the river.” 
The blood drains from your face, your heart stopping just as you meet the determined look in his eye.  
“Because I didn’t think you would do it!” you gasp, and the smile that fills his face is made up entirely of mischief. 
“Do you not take your bets seriously, Lady Baratheon?” 
“Apparently not as seriously as his grace!” you exclaim, reaching to swat his hands away from his chest and dissuade any further progress along the buttons.  
But Aemond is resolute and, as each button comes loose, he steps closer, forcing you to back away. 
“My lady must believe I would have ensured she took her forfeit very seriously indeed,” he says, his doublet falling open to reveal the stark white linen of his tunic, the strings bound tightly at his neck. 
You take another step away from him, your back colliding with the rough bark of a large tree. 
“Do you want to know what it was? Your forfeit?” he asks, slowly loosening the long strings with a single pull. 
“No.”  
A smile quivers at the edges of his lips, and he inches right into your personal space, while the tree holds you still. And you can’t move, only watch, as his tunic unravels enough for you to see there are no bandages across his chest, only the bruise. Faded to a bloom of green instead of purple and so striking against his alabaster skin that you inhale a sharp breath.  
Yet, you’re not looking at that . At least not for too long. You're staring at his hands, as they sink downwards to slide the end of his belt through its loops, each click of his buckle making your heart jump. 
“This is absurd,” you whisper, your body tensing. 
"Really ?” Aemond’s voice is low, seductive . “When I watched you undress, I found it quite mesmerizing.” 
Your eyes flick to meet his and he must see the puzzled look on your face.  
He had found you in the water, had he not?  
“I was on the clifftop, resting Vhagar,” he says, answering the question which had not yet left your lips, “and just before I turned to leave, there you were. Wearing the black and yellow of house Baratheon.”  
He pauses, letting the information sink into your bones, and you can hear the tightness in his breath before he laughs softly and continues, “I already thought it unusual for a high-born lady to be alone, so imagine my surprise when you began to take off all your clothes.” 
He watched you. From the very first moment. He watched you.   
You remember the way your chemise had billowed from your hands, forcing you to chase it down the beach. On the cliffs, he had certainly not been close enough to see every detail, but he had seen you. Your freedom, a moment that had felt so pure, so private . 
Your temper burns and you push him with all your might, the action not surmounting to much considering the man you’re trying to repel, and his strength only serves to frustrate you further.   
“You really are the worst man that ever lived!” You say and you mean it, but Aemond only smiles, enjoying the suggestion and possessing not an ounce of shame in his actions, past or present.  
“I'd say there’s hardly a man alive who could have resisted watching you.” 
Perhaps he was right. But he was the man who had been there that day and, though he could have left without saying a single word, he chose to fly closer, to stand where you could see him. To humiliate you.  
Still, that is the least of your concerns as his belt comes free and his hand moves to rest beside your head on the tree, the hairs on the back of your neck pricking to attention. 
“You’re out of your mind!” you tell him, thinking there was no way you were going to stand around while he took off all his clothes, and when you push him again, he doesn’t budge. He inches closer, his other hand tangling in your hair. 
“From the moment I saw you on that beach, yes, ” he concedes, a spark of warmth flickering across your chest, but you ignore it.  
“I hope you jump in the river, and it carries you out to sea!”  
Aemond bites back his laughter yet he’s so close you can feel the echo of it rippling across his chest, and smell that all too familiar scent of his skin.  
“It would be most unfortunate if I were to die without first kissing my lady, do you not agree?” 
“I am not your lady.” 
“But you have no objection to the kiss?” he shifts slightly, his nose brushing with yours. 
“Yes ,” you’re barely breathing, “I have an objection. I- ” 
But Aemond doesn’t want to hear what you’re about to say, he wants to kiss you, and you anticipate the touch of his lips with more desperation than you thought yourself capable of.  
Yet , as his head tilts, and you feel the heat of his lips searching for yours, you come to your senses and turn away, his kiss landing on your cheek with a low groan.  
Still, it is a kiss, Aemond’s kiss, and even if it hadn’t intended to land as such, it was still warm and delicate on your skin, and you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted. Wanting more, wanting so much more that you were afraid of your own desires.  
“I think his grace is forgetting himself,” you scold, your words no louder than the flutter of a butterfly wing, but really, it is you who is forgetting yourself . 
“If I am forgetting anything,” he argues, his breath hot on your cheek, “it is why I did not kiss you sooner.” 
“I'd say it’s because I do not want you!”  
“Need I remind my lady that she has the most terrible face for deception?” His voice is strained, a single finger pushing along your jaw, forcing you to look at him. 
"Need I remind his grace that I still find him the most repugnant man in the entire world?”  
Or was that just another lie to crumble under his scrutiny? Surely not. No, you find his behaviour mostly smug and sometimes downright appalling. Yet that didn’t stop the way your skin ached for his touch; it didn't stop it for a heartbeat. 
“You can remind me every day when we are married,” he promises with a slow, easy smile and, just as you think he might try to kiss you again, you hear a noise. Both of your heads flicking towards the sound. 
It’s the wheelhouse, you realise, innocently ambling its way towards the clearing, while you’re standing hot and breathless, pushed up against a tree with Aemond’s clothes half undone and decorum fully discarded. 
This was madness! Complete and utter madness! And you only had yourself to blame. 
“I’m never marrying you!” you say, resolute , before his gaze returns to yours and he stares at you for a long moment. 
“Then my lady must allow me the honour of proving her wrong,” he vows, stepping back so he has room to refasten the strings on his tunic. 
You scoff, trying not to look at anything but his face, “I have quite made up my mind on the matter.” 
“As have I.” 
“This is not a game Aemond, you will not win.” 
He pauses, surprised, delighted , “ what did you say?” 
His name, you realise. You said his name. Not his grace or my prince or even Prince Aemond, just Aemond.  
Your fingers press across your traitorous lips but it's too late to take it back now. So you don’t try. You don’t even dare to say another word.  
You’re free to move and you do so assuredly, hurrying back towards camp with your hands brushing through your hair to hide any evidence from your little misadventure in the woods.  
Seven Hells!  
If Alicent had contrived to force you into Aemond’s company, then she had succeeded entirely.  
You’d made one bad decision after another from the moment you’d laid eyes on him in the stable, and if you were being completely honest, you didn't trust yourself not to make another one. 
No, what you needed to do was find Cassandra and stick to her ladylike manners for the rest of the day. Perhaps she would even switch places with you in the wheelhouse? Yet, as you think this, you remember how you’d insisted on riding without a side-saddle. Of course you had, because you were just as Septa Orella had always told you. A defiant, ill-tempered girl.  
~~~
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Ask #1 (Anon 1 ): there’s this fic…# 1
It's canon divergent and I think Dean and Cas get together in the middle of it. But it's a case fic where demons are gathering all over and Sam calls a bunch of hunters to the bunker. They split into teams and go to the areas where the demons are gathering. Dean and Cas are a team and they go to this office building and the boss is this lady who is possessed. I really really don't remember much else but there's one part that I recall vividly. Dean and Cas are caught by the demons in the office and tied up. The boss lady tells them that they actually want Sam. Dean asks her if she really expects him to give up his own brother. She says no, but Cas might. Cas says "he's my brother too." And that's basically all I remember. Also, I think Jody ends up rescuing them from the demons. And there's an asshole hunter that one of them punches. Sorry I know this is vague but I've been looking for this fic for months now.
Ask #2 ( ): there’s this fic…# 2
Hi! I’m looking for a fic, and I swear I’ve found it before and now I’ve lost it again, BUT. It’s an AU, that starts in like Roman/grecian times where Dean is captured and Cas (I think Cassius??) is the son of the lord and likes to taunt all the slaves his father’s got. Anyway one day Dean leads a revolt and ends up getting caught and killed for his efforts, and he vows as he’s dying to find cas in the next life. And then! They find each other in the next life!! But this time they’re falling in love! And I cannot for the life of me remember what it’s called or any relevant tags. I know I read it on AO3! Thanks!
Ask #3 ( @forthosethatwonder ): there’s this fic…# 3
Hi! I've been thinking about this fic for a while and I can't seem to find it. It's a very angsty story. I think it takes place in California. Dean and Cas are former foster kids who grew up next to each other. Dean, in a more normal house with Ellen or Missouri, as his parent. Cas was in a house with many other kids and had an abusive foster parent (Azazel/Allistar?) that he eventually has to kill to stop him from hurting the younger children. Cas eventually just disappears from Dean's life, but returns to the home when he finds out that Dean's foster mother is sick or recently died? The fic bounces between past and present. I hope those are the details, it's been a while since I've read it. Hopefully someone can remember what it is. Thank you!
Ask #4 ( @loveagoodstory2 ): there’s this fic…# 4
4.1 Hello I’m looking for a fic I read some time ago. In this story Dean takes a job as Cas companion. He saves Cas at a party by bringing him a phone call. Dean has a bad panic attack in the shower and Gabe helps him. I think Cas owes a security company.
4.2 There is also another one where Dean catches Cas in bed with Meg and it’s so heartbreaking. (He was able to catch them because he was driving a different car) Gabe and Sam are at the divorce proceedings with them because Dean had to go through therapy. Gabe feels bad because he introduced them.
Ask #5 ( @heynow-urarockstar ): there’s this fic…# 5
Hello! Really hoping you can help me find a destiel fic set around season 7. Sam and Dean find Cas from the lake all wounded and take him back to patch him up. Leviathans are after them, Sam keeps seeing Lucifer, and lots of Cas-whump as they move around a bunch. Cas is blind for a majority of the fic. Been looking for it for weeks! I think word count is around 60-100k words.
Ask #6 ( @trueastoast): there’s this fic…# 6
A while back I read a longer kinda slow burn fic where destiel were childhood or highschool friends later turned lovers. They get married later in life and foster to adopt a little girl then when she’s older they foster a troubled preteen boy the Cas thinks might be a lost cause but Dean puts in the work and they bond over past parental trauma and fishing. Wish I could remember the name I just know it was an AU with a sprinkle of internalized homophobia in the beginning of their relationship and disagreements over adoption later. Any tips appreciated!
Other requests
Ask #7 - our follower is looking for a possibly deleted fic, “Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester” by asexualclassicist on AO3.
Ask #8 - our follower is looking for a possibly deleted fic, “I’ve got a Bad Case of Lovin’ you” by HigherMagic.
Ask #9 - our follower is looking for a possibly deleted fic "Castiel's Scars" by Martypom.
It takes a village to find a lost fic, every reblog is appreciated!
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liloinkoink · 3 months
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*runs into inbox clothes burning and disheveled* LAMPLIGHT QUESTIONS??? YOU WANT LAMPLIGHT QUESTIONS??? (i think you made that post like four days ago so i'm late but aaaaaaaa)
what do you think is like, The Turning Point in Martyn and Ren's companionship? Or if there's more than one already written, what's your favorite?
Is there a scene that you've really been excited to write for lamplight/one that you've written but haven't shown The Public yet?
In his original party, were there like, designated roles for everyone to play? Like healer/brawler/short-range/scholar etc? If so, what role do you think Martyn specialized in? And everyone else? Is there anything you would say lamplight Martyn is good at--- like a skill or something? Also, how long had the group been together before that incident at Dogwarts?
From what I can remember, Ren and Scar are the only Gods we've seen so far--- do you have an idea of any other familiar faces that are also Gods?
Do you have any other world-building details you wanna talk about? Any Martyn or Ren thoughts that you've been wanting to talk about?
Sorry if this is too many questions, you don't have to answer all of them! Give as vague answers as you please--- honestly, anything you say about the lamplight world i Will Chew Up Like Dog Toy, so put whatever you want!
Regardless, thank you for your writing and all your efforts! I hope you have a nice day ^_^
okay this is a massive ask with so many questions in it, so im gonna repeat/bold each question and deal w em one by one
i will put this under a cut bc it is So Long. below this cut is SO MUCH lamplight worldbuilding, like, So Much, so i hope you enjoy that
what do you think is like, The Turning Point in Martyn and Ren's companionship? Or if there's more than one already written, what's your favorite?
turning point... i guess it depends how you define a turning point? any point of development in their relationship? there's been a few--heliography, with Martyn deciding to swear a real oath to Ren (if still one he can back out of); sleeping hound, w Martyn realizing Ren wouldnt ever burn him; worship the ashes, love wins. there's another big one for Martyn planned that i havent written yet, and one, maybe two or three for Ren.
my favorite, tho, hmm... i think sleeping hound.
Is there a scene that you've really been excited to write for lamplight/one that you've written but haven't shown The Public yet?
i planned the scene for how Ren gets his body back literally day one of the damn fic and i still havent written it a year later i want to SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND
literally this one fuckign scene is part of the reason i STARTED WRITING THE DAMN FIC. crying
for the latter half, i posted this!
In his original party, were there like, designated roles for everyone to play? Like healer/brawler/short-range/scholar etc? If so, what role do you think Martyn specialized in? And everyone else?
i get so many questions abt martyns og party you think after a year i would have answers to them but my answer is unfortunately always that i am a treebark writer making a treebark au and it isnt relevant to ren and martyn doing ren and martyn things so i didnt really bother
that said! i dont think they necessarily had roles? they all strike me as pretty mid-level adventurers. theyre not chosen ones on holy quests. none of them are going to have songs sung about them for decades to come. they can hold their own, but they arent saving the world. theyre like,,, fantasy backpacking. doing some minor jobs sometimes. all of em are skilled enough w their weapons/magic but none of em are like, The Fighter or The Mage.
all of them are swordsmen tho bc i think swords are cool. i think Jimmy is better at it than you think he is, but not as good as he says. he will occasionally surprise you by doing something really cool and then when he turns around to brag about it he eats shit. jimmys magic really only affects the area immediately around himself
i asked local to weigh in on bigb bc thats who im least confident on and he suggested bigb using a fighting style that heavily relies on a shield? like sword in one hand shield in the other. i think thats very sick. also, bigbs magic only affects his own body
i can see Grian having some kinda little explosives he uses to fight, tho he clearly doesnt have them anymore (and doesnt need em--bro has talons these days). he used to be immune to magic, but bc of the watchers, he now has a magical core and can be cast on, which is new to him
their group didnt have a leader, either, and all decisions were just made as a group. if asked, both Martyn and Jimmy would say they were the leader (tho neither would boast this anymore, due to believing that would imply having lead Grian to his death). Grian used to handle their money (and hes annoyed about having lost it)
Is there anything you would say lamplight Martyn is good at--- like a skill or something?
he's a musician! it's come up a few times, but he's skilled in a few instruments and has a nice singing voice. hes played a lute on page, i believe, but i think he could also use a harmonica. dont worry abt whether or not those have been invented yet i dont care i just think he deserves one. probs knows a fair amount of songs thatre good in taverns and some dances that accompany them. if he ever got tired of adventuring, he could probs make a fair amount playing at bars (he'd probs do it to fundraise for himself if he didnt have to worry abt ren's lantern)
he's also a pretty decent cook. at least, Ren really likes his cooking, when he has a body again, tho Ren hasnt eaten anything in 20 years
he's generally pretty strong/fit w good stamina to walk all day long. when Ren has a body again, Martyn will be strong enough to lift him, even tho Ren is taller than him. Ren finds this incredibly impressive. Ren finds everything Martyn does incredibly impressive
of course, there's also being a deadzone, making him completely immune to magic (within reason--if someone casts fireball at him hes still going to burn). charms and curses dont work on him at all, which is very helpful as an adventurer
Also, how long had the group been together before that incident at Dogwarts?
jimmy, grian, and martyn were childhood friends, all lived in the same town/neighborhood (Evo) and grew up together. bigb moved to their hometown/neighborhood when Dogwarts fell, he was about 10? theyve been friends ever since. so theyve known each other about 20 years minimum
(note on ages: i dont know how old any of these people actually are so in lamplight theyre all like early 30s. pretty sure grian and jimmy are like late 20s? and bigb and martyn are somewhere in their 30s? so i set em all as early 30s)
barely related, it does make me laugh Dogwarts has Watchers and Evo doesnt
From what I can remember, Ren and Scar are the only Gods we've seen so far--- do you have an idea of any other familiar faces that are also Gods?
the answer to this is uh. kind of long and a little bit hysterical. so ill first direct you to this paragraph from moonlight ch2
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i did actually have uh... a few things in mind for this? but not uh. not reasonable ones
so. quite a few of them. ill be honest. to fill the paragraph and make it long and expansive i recounted the pantheon from a zolu fic abt the entire strawhat pirate crew as gods which i wrote w my friend Sam when i was like 16. i do not think the strawhat pantheon is canon to lamplight but recalling the domains i used for the strawhats was how i made a lot of the list, so, uh, take that as you will
for other characters... the god of nothing is Scar. the god of death is Kristin. the god of blood is... not Technoblade, actually? tho ive thought abt him in Lamplight. i like to think he may actually also be a paladin, he travels around w Phil. gods of places references Ren but also is a shoutout specifically to my friend Zeph who loves place gods, so i just wanted the world to have lots of them
the god of survival is actually Martyn! in leaflight, the roleswap, Martyn has long since abandoned his post as a god, but he was born the god of survival
.....oh and uh. well. the god of decay is... me! my mcrp character on another server is the god of decay. the secret truth about this specific paragraph is i wrote the entire thing so i could make a cameo in lamplight
Do you have any other world-building details you wanna talk about?
magic system... have i told you guys about magical cores? i had some of this already in mind but typing it out i made up a lot more. it is also approaching 1am so if this doesnt make any sense that's why
every person in lamplight has a magical core. it's sort of like a,,, spiritual organ? a little core of magic in them which takes magic from the air and makes it usable for an individual. cores vary in size/reserve, which is how much magic a person can do at max / how much magic their core can store. they also vary in type/strength of magic, which i guess is what a person's core processes ambient magic as
people can usually only use one kind of magic, which corresponds to what their core is. i think the type of magic is mostly determined by what/who it works on. it might work on just you and the space around you, it might work on just objects, it might work on animals, it might work on other people. magic which works on just yourself is most common and weakest, and the majority of people have that
deadzones dont have a magical core At All. theres nothing in there. straight up missing an organ. most deadzones are born this way, but i can see it be possible to become one if you Really, REALLY exhaust your core, tho that's probs rare
casting a spell depends entirely on belief. if you believe it should work, and are confident in your spell, it should do what you want, esp if it's in your power. you can... probs push your limits a bit if youre super confident, and doing this enough with enough confidence is basically the closest thing to training one's magic a person can get?
related, i can see bc of this kids having magic thats just a little stronger than adults bc of this, which is cute. kids probs also have smaller cores w smaller reserves, tho im not sure how much a core grows as a person ages
inanimate objects dont have magical cores or innate magic. i said earlier i think the lamplight world has a lot of ambient magic just floating about (which is how cores refill back to baseline once you use magic), but it doesnt stick to things unless you make it. to cast on an object, you have to use magic from your own core to adhere it to the thing youre casting on (which is why spells casted on objects dont USUALLY last that long--as said in moonlight, most only last a short while, and ren's enchants only lasted for months is just bc he was insanely powerful). you basically give items a little piece of your core with an instruction of how to use it
(jimmy's magic i think affects himself and ambient magic around him, while bigb draws entirely on his own core and can only affect himself)
i dont know if animals have magical cores ive never thought about it until this exact second. probably, but not ones most creatures know how to use? magic is belief based, they might use magic a little bit on accident? i dont know. some monsters absolutely have magical cores they know how to use
this is probs how zombies work. i think it's either a curse cast by one very powerful god/magic user a long time ago, or that people need to be properly buried or else weird things happen to their lingering magical core. or smth. i havent entirely decided
to cast on a person, you need to get your magic to stick to, cover up, or drown out Their magical core, depending on the spell. spells cast on other people dont last very long bc magical cores dont tend to like things intruding on them. this is why deadzones cant be cast on--no core, nothing for other magic to stick to
it's a little bit like a sliding scale? "weakest" magic is yourself, it's easiest to cast on yourself bc your will is your own and should generally line up w your magic, so long as you believe in what you're doing. then ambient magic, bc it's just chillin, you just need a little extra strength to grab it. then objects, tho you have to share a little will to cast on objects. then animals, they usually have smaller magical cores than ppl, friendly animals are a bit easier to bend to your will, tho some animals are harder to cast on then others, esp hostile animals or monsters. then other people. people have their own will and their own cores that are most difficult to bend/influence. so magic that works on other ppl is the "strongest"
being able to cast on a later step on the scale, like animals or ppl, doesnt mean you can do all the steps before it, tho. Scar i think can ONLY cast on living things, his magic sorta specializes in sticking to other ppls' cores. i would imagine all magic users can cast on themselves at least a little tho
to cast on a deadzone, you have to first give them a magical core, which is incredibly difficult, unstable, and dangerous. it requires a lot of power and a lot of people, which is why it did such weird things to Grian
divine magical cores are on another level entirely compared to mortals, and tho ren's was impressive as a human, it got infinitely more powerful when he became a god. he's basically a well of magic all on his own, w no limit on the size/reserve of his core
ren is overflowing w magic, but it works only on inanimate objects (things that dont have wills of their own to fight his) and himself (obviously he doesnt have to fight his own will). if Martyn werent a deadzone, he could probablt have cast on late-series Martyn, as martyn's will as ren's paladin would probs line up w ren's own
none of these rules are super hard and set in stone. lamplight magic is vibe based first and foremost
uhhh. i dont know if this all made sense? if it doesnt feel free to ask follow up questions
oh, and before anyone asks:
jimmy has a slightly more powerful core than bigb bc he can cast on ambient magic and bigb cant. bigb's core is probs bigger than jimmy's tho, so he can use more magic / use magic for longer than jimmy can
Any Martyn or Ren thoughts that you've been wanting to talk about?
heres a fun fact: gods are supposed to give their paladins blessings. Ren is no exception to this, but bc Martyn has no magical core, he cant receive them. if he did, ren's blessings would be all about protection. it'd basically be like casting armor enchants like protection and unbreaking directly on martyn's body? he'd less likely to be directly injured and sturdier in general. he would also be completely resistant to any fire, not just ren.
(the thing i said earlier is sort of why blessings work for Ren despite the fact hes technically mortal, but for other gods blessings are automatic so long as the paladin's oath stands)
Ren is aware of the fact he should be able to bless Martyn and cant and is sort of upset about it, but he blessed his armor, so he thinks thatll have to be enough
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bleach-your-panties · 4 months
Text
JJK Men: When You're Sleepy, But They're Horny🍒🎀
(a/n: i usually suck ass at headcanons but let's give this a whirl. characters aged 18+. nsfw mdni, sexual content. fem reader)
(characters: yuuji, megumi, nanami, toge, gojo)
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dividers: glitter-graphics, @/cafekitsune
♥︎
Yuuji:
It's 9pm and you had just returned from a solo mission, finished your shower, hair routine, and climbed into bed. You hear the soft click of your room door opening and you know that it has to be none other than your boyfriend, Yuuji.
"Babe, are you still awake?" His soft voice whispers right beside your ear before he presses a kiss to the side of your head. You groan out something unintelligible and Yuuji's heart sinks a bit.
He's really hard and he was hoping that you might feel like 'playing' a little, but he also knows that you're probably really tired.
"I can feel you pouting, Yuu. Put it in my hand."
You stretch your palm out from under your covers and Yuuji is quickly shoving his pants down to free his hard dick.
"T-thank you, so much, cutie. Fuck, I love you!" He whimpers/whispers as you stroke him with your nice, warm fingers running all along his shaft.
He's so pent-up that it only takes a few rough tugs before he's spilling his seed into your hand.
"Promise to fuck you good when you wake up, baby. You're so good to me."
You were already snoring before he cleaned your hand off and left your room silently.
♥︎
Megumi:
You're curled up in bed with Megumi spooning while the two of you watch anime. You've finished nearly half the season in the last couple hours that you've been watching and now your eyes are drooping.
Megumi is still watching the TV but his eyes flit down to where your ass is pressed against his crotch. The sleep shorts you're wearing give him a perfect view of your thighs.
Being a semi-grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer, you have keen awareness and heightened senses, so you automatically feel Megumi's stone cold blue eyes boring into your back.
"What is it, Megara?" You yawn out, turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder. He rolls said eyes.
"Told you to stop calling me that."
He answers your question by rutting his hips forward and rubbing his hard-on against your ass.
"I'm tired, Megs. Here." You turn over halfway on to your stomach, fully presenting your ass to him and his eyes widen at the gap made by your thighs.
He sinks his dick into the makeshift hole and fucks it slowly, edging himself, until he feels his balls tighten and he's cumming into the opening.
A warm blush covers his cheeks but he dutifully grabs some wipes and cleans you off before kissing your head and pulling you into his chest.
♥︎
Nanami:
Kento is working another late shift and you just can't stay up waiting for him any longer.
You're quickly falling asleep in the armchair when the front door knob twists and he steps inside.
"Angel, are you asleep in the chair?"
"Mmm...Kento is that you?" You drawl with your head resting against the cushion. He chuckles at your cuteness.
"Yes, it's me, darling. Come on, let's get you to bed.
"Okay."
Once he's laid you on the bed, he can't help but begin to caress your smooth legs up to your thighs hidden beneath your nightgown.
His dick begins to strain against his dress pants but he looks up at your blissful face and dares not to ask you if you want to make love.
"Kento...what's wrong? Come on to bed, already."
"Do you mind if I eat you out, darling?"
Your heart swells ten times its size just knowing how much he cares for you.
"Mhmm, please..."
And he dives right in, sucking and licking you to Nirvana. It feels so good, your legs start shaking and you're cumming over his handsome face in record time.
Your orgasm completely knocks you out cold and he chuckles at your peaceful form before undressing to his boxers and climbing under the covers with you.
♥︎
Toge:
You're cuddled up in Toge's bed with him looking at memes and funny videos on his phone.
With a free day from classes, the two of you had been out all day exploring Tokyo and now you're absolutely exhausted.
You snuggle into his warm chest and inhale the scent of his laundry detergent. Toge kisses the top of your head, his lavender eyes then trailing down over your beautiful face....your lithe neck with the necklace he bought you for your birthday around it, and further down to your tits.
He softly inhales and wraps an arm around your back to press you further against him so he can feel your breasts squished against his hard chest.
You shuffle a bit in his hold and your sleepy eyes look up into his amethyst ones.
"Toge...?"
His dick is hard and swollen against his thigh, but you look so cute like this - he can't help but lean his head down to kiss each of your breasts.
"Sleep."
Your body can't do anything but obey.
That was probably the best sleep you'd gotten in a while.
♥︎
Gojo:
Satoru was away for the day on a field trip with his students and you decided to clean the entire house while he was away. You never had the time to do it when he was around because you'd either be holed up in the bedroom all day or pressed up against some random piece of furniture with him thrusting into you wildly.
When you finished the upstairs, you decided to go lie down and have a quick nap before he got back.
Hours later, you're still knocked out; the cleaning had really drained you more than you realized.
"Honeybun, I'm home and I brought you a souvenir!~"
Your joyful husband slams open the bedroom door with some shopping bags in tow.
The bags drop to the floor and he immediately hushes himself once he sees that you're asleep.
"Aww, look at my precious sleeping baby.." He slips off his blindfold, revealing his beautiful, crystalline blue eyes while he shreds himself of his work clothes and joins you in the bed.
The movements make you shift around a bit and then you feel warm breath over your neck and cheeks.
"Hm, Satoru.." Your hand tangles into his soft white locks while his lips press against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet, hungry kisses on your sweet-scented skin.
"Missed you so much, sweetie...need to have you right now."
There was rarely a time when this man wasn't horny for you, but if you refused and wanted to just sleep, he wouldn't object. He knows that even though you're not a sorcerer you still have a life and things that keep you occupied when he's away.
You shift until you're lying completely on your back and Satoru is spreading your thighs with his knees. He pulls out his cock and begins stroking it until it's hard and leaking pre-cum.
"I love you.." He murmurs into your hair once he's sunken all eight inches inside your tight cunt.
Your eyes close instinctively, but he pats your cheek before gripping your chin in his rough grip.
"Look at me. I want to watch your pretty eyes while I fuck you back to sleep."
----
i actually fell asleep while writing this loool. going back to sleep now, peace.
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williamssgirl · 1 month
Text
❀*ੈ˖°.𖥔 ݁ casual (part ii)
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you can read part one here!
pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: you haven't spoken to ellie in a week, 9 missed calls and 38 texts from her, none of which you've answered, but ellie doesn't give up so easily.
warnings: smut, mdni, intimate sex, the knee thing (e!receiving), shower sex, fingering (r!receiving), switch!ellie and reader, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, fluffy, reader lives in an apartment, ellie is very apologetic, barley proofread & semi-rushed and i think thats it. lmk if not.
wc: 2.9k
a/n: this was meant to be like 1.6k words so idk how we got to 35 words away from 3k but... enjoy! dt: @satellitespinner
don't buy tlou | free palestine
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(1:02am) ellie
please let me explain
(1:06am) ellie
cmon please i promise it'll be worth your while
(1:07am) ellie
i have your bra among other things. let me know when you'd like me to drop them off. i'm sorry.
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(1:09am) you
guess who texted again
(1:09am) olive
no way
r u gonna reply?
(1:10am) you
absolutely not
i made a fool of myself
(1:11am) olive
maybe and JUST MAYBE
reply to her and get ur closure + super sexy bra back
(1:12am) you
what the fuck olive
do you want me to die? genuine question
(1:12am) olive
LISTEN
it might help
plus she seems genuinely apologetic
why is she even apologising?
(1:14am) you
for being a dick and wanting a quick hookup?
(1:14am) olive
because she has feelings and she knows she fucked up?
(1:15am) you
😐 bye
(1:15am) olive
just reply! say sometime tmrw. it can be easy, a quick in nd out
okay?
(1:16am) you
i'll think about it
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(2:03am) you
11:30, you get two minutes
(2:03am) ellie
thank you so much
(2:03am) ellie
i'll be there
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nine hours later, and ellie was a mess.
you had given her permission to come over and return your bra – hell you had her jumping for fucking joy when she saw that message.
but now she had to actually talk to you, and what the hell was she supposed to say? that she was sorry? that she 'couldn't sort out her feelings?' all of which felt wrong (maybe they only felt wrong because she was staring at herself in the mirror while repeating them for three hours... who knows).
but ellie had found herself with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a plan.
a plan to win you back.
she was going to apologize, let you scream at her, and hopefully let her explain, all in the two minutes you had gratefully gifted her.
so, when she rang the doorbell to your apartment after hiking the six story stairs, she found herself staring at her old, beaten up converse. stars and hearts you had drawn all along the sides of the soles almost mocked her.
then you opened the door, and ellie couldn't look up.
useless apologies started spilling from her mouth, panicked words that meant nothing. a collection of "i'm sorry” s and a series of "please let me explain" came pouring out, that was until she grew the gall to look up at you and take you in.
her heart stopped when she did, so did her words.
you looked tired. clearly old yet comfortable clothes adorned your body, you had your arms over your stomach but they weren't crossed, you weren't mad, you could never be mad at ellie, no matter how badly you wanted to be especially in this moment.
words rushed through her head but never made it out her mouth, you were... exhausted. and she caused it, she caused all this pain you were going through. 
“oh…” she softly whispered, her stance faltering at the sight of you, not because you looked like how you did but because she was so mad at herself.
you sigh, you had made no effort to adjust your appearance or put makeup on. you told yourself it was because you had no energy to, but in reality, you wanted to show ellie how you were hurting, that she had caused this, that something fun and sweet had gone sour and at your own expense. 
“ellie, i know i look….” you remove your arms from your stomach and signal to yourself shamefully, tears almost springing from your sunken eyes at the regret you feel for not even trying to fix yourself up, “ but can i please just have my bra back?” you’ve changed your position once again so that you’re leaning up against the doorframe of your apartment, gray sleeves up by your knuckles. 
“no! no no no not at all you look… pretty. really pretty.” she breathes out hurriedly, your cheeks heat up before you spot the bouquet, and that's what makes the tears spill. because why was she here? she had never described you as pretty before, only hot or sexy, so why is she here apologising and calling you pretty if she doesnt just want a quick fuck by validating you? 
tears now evidently filled your eyes, ellie’s kind smile had now turned into one of worry and concern when she saw the tears threatening to spill from your tired eyes, moving forward to embrace you, but she hesitated. will it only make things worse for you? feeling her again? 
“can- can i touch you?” she asks gently, nerves shaking at the chance of you pushing her away for good, telling her she can keep the bra and slamming the door shut in her face. 
instead, you silently shake your head yes and grant her permission to embrace you, it was a stupid idea, really, because everything you felt, all the times she had touched you that you had so desperately been trying to shut out came flooding back and it took everything in you not to sob, the subtle stream of tears gliding down your cheeks was worse enough. you avoided her sorrowful eyes, you didn't want her to feel sorry for you, you just wanted her. 
ellie lets go of you, she’s still standing at the doorway, converse planted firmly on your ‘welcome!’ doormat, she delicately reaches to hold your cheeks and force your wandering eyes to look into her own, staring for a second, memorizing your face just in case before looping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you inside, closing the door behind the two of you with her foot, not looking back once. 
you can feel the flowers gently brush against your shoulder as she never put them in her other hand, but the feeling of them is oddly comforting. you're not sure why exactly it’s comforting, but you do however manage to notice they're your favorite. 
ellie guides you over to a kitchen counter, sitting you up on it and standing right in between your open spread legs, placing the array of flowers opposite to the two of you. you bury your head in your hands, wanting to disappear from this moment and never return. 
“hey…” she gently prys your hands away from your head, and you immediately look up to contain tears, trying your hardest nor to hit the cabinets. “i'm sorry for just welcoming myself in, i assumed you didn't want the neighbors to see you…” the auburn haired girl uneasily babbles, and the tears slow down. you sniffle, looking down at the girl who can’t seem to slow her fast paced talking, and you're not sure how to quiet her down other than placing a hand over her mouth. 
instantly, the talking stops as she looks up at you confused, you sniffle once more and she grabs your hand again to remove it from her mouth 
“you were talking a lot,” you whisper “its okay that you came in, ellie.” your voice is silky, addicting. 
“i just-” she sighs, anxiously tapping the space outside your thighs and staring at her own hands “i don’t know how i can express just how sorry i am, i fucked up. Bad. and your hurting because of it” she spills, shes not even sure if it made sense as it left her mouth, but it’s honest. 
“ellie… it was always more than just a casual thing to me,” you admit, voice getting shallower by the second “and i mean, i don’t know, i always just assumed if i kept saying i was fine with it you would realize that i was who you wanted, but now i know it isn’t true.” ellie’s face drops upon hearing your words, alarms blare in her head because of course it was never just casual to her as well, she’s not even sure why she suggested it in the first place or kept reinforcing it when she wanted everything but that. 
“i know,” she starts off with, you look down sadly, this was confirmation she didn't want to see you anymore, that you getting attached had ruined everything and there was no saving whatever you two had. “but,” she continues, you look up at her again, confused. “It was never just casual to me as well, you know? i’m not even sure why i suggested it in the first place.” she lets out a brief chuckle at the last part in hopes of clearing some of the tension around you guys. 
“but you-” 
“i know i always reminded you, i think it was because i was scared? i was so… infatuated with you and i guess i didn’t want to hurt you. i thought it was the only way.” she remorsefully confesses, and you smile, roles reversed as you gracefully grab her face and kiss her. a kiss that says everything. 
it's soft, gentle, show’s no urgency or panic. it’s natural, and ellie can feel you smiling into it, as is she. 
gently, she moves away and starts kissing down your neck, you lock your hands into her auburn and let out a sigh of content. 
“ellie…” you needily whisper. 
“yeah, baby?” she removes her mouth from your neck, grabbing your thighs and looking into your eyes. “this okay?”
“more than okay,” you confirm, “do you wanna shower with me?” your request is simple, but it makes ellie’s heart explode with excitement as she lifts you off the counter and begins to carry you over to the very familiar shower, the short walk is full of quick kisses and giggles bouncing off the walls when you finally arrive and she nearly stumbles over her own feet. 
you're quick to discard your own clothes, the anticipation building to feel ellie’s skin on your own, the girls anticipation matching yours as she hastily removes her own clothing. Flowers and bra forgotten in the kitchen when she pulls your body into the shower with her, capturing you into a needy kiss once more. she reaches behind you to turn the water on, not accounting for the fact it'll take a minute to warm up and allowing the freezing stream to harshly hit your back. you yelp, moving away quickly in shock, hearing ellie’s restrained snort from behind you. turning to face her, you slap her bicep playfully when the water begins to feel warmer 
“ellie!” you playfully scold, “that wasn't funny!” you’re trying to be serious, key word: trying, but you cant help to let your own laugh slip past your mouth as you join her in the fun. 
“‘m sorry!” she giggles, the laughter between you two dying down “i didn't think it would be that cold!” 
“yeah, well, obviously!” you attempt to splash her with the little bit of remaining cold water on your hands, but you're not quick enough. she pins your hands above your head against the wall adjacent to the stream of water, the glass becoming foggy with steam from the nearly boiling water. 
silence falls in between the two of you. no words are spoken as you move forwards wanting a kiss from the girl, but she moves back. deja vu spikes within you from that night at the bar, days before everything went down. 
she closes her eyes, leaning closer and pressing her forehead up against yours. You repeat the action, you weren't sure what she was doing, but you trusted her. 
“let’s take this slow, okay?” she utters softly, just loud enough so you could hear her over the sound of water pouring, you nod instantly. slow was good. slow meant effort.
with your agreement, she locks your lips into a kiss once again. it wasn't hasty or rough, it was soothing and steady, releasing your arms in order for her to move her own to rest on your hips, your own reaching towards her neck. 
the kiss continuous for a couple minutes, only letting go for a couple seconds at a time to catch your breaths before falling back into each other peacefully, but you were getting wetter and wetter, desperate for more than just kitten kisses on your neck, and you could tell ellie was getting wet too with her movements becoming more and more desperate and rough. 
discreetly, you slot your knee in between her legs while she's occupied with your neck. Almost immediately you can feel the grip she has on your hips become tighter, fingernails digging into the flesh as you slowly begin to move your knee, she groans, dropping her head into your shoulder, moving her hips to match the rhythm with your knee. 
“faster, please” she whimpers in your neck, busying herself again by leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your neck once more. who were you to deny such a pretty girl's request? you speed up the movement of your knee, nudging it up every now and again, removing a hand from her neck to reach down and slowly rub her clit. 
from the way she sucked harder on that spot just below your ear she knew you loved, you assumed the sensation was taken well, your own wetness starting to drip down your thighs, mixing with the water from the muffled noises she was making alone. eventually, the stimulation caught up to her, legs becoming shaky, speeding up your movements and circling her clit, forcefully removing her mouth from your neck so you could bring your head down and suck on her left nipple, and that was her tipping point. 
ellie came undone on your leg with a strangled shout of your name, legs shaking and thighs hurting as you slowed down the circles on her now sensitive nub before eventually stopping, removing the knee slotted between her legs as well as your mouth from her tit. 
“you okay?” you whisper, giving her a couple seconds to come down from her high, the water providing a warm comfort over the two of you. 
“yeah,” she breathes, coming up to give you a kiss on the lips, again, and again, making a wet noise each time, only further fueling your need for her. “more than okay, thank you.”
you smile at her, happy that she was satisfied with your work. you clench your thighs together in hopes to relieve some of the tension that had built up in your core, a move that did not go unnoticed by the dripping girl in front of you. 
“but now i think i need to take care of you, hm? would you like that?” you quickly nod your head yes, anxious to feel her touch on you once more. 
she doesn't wait to get to work on your body, lips going down to suck one of your boobs while her hand moves to roll the sensitive bud in between her fingers, almost instantly eliciting a moan from you.
quietly, she moves her hand that was previously rolling your nipple down your wet body to your core. you open your legs, she keeps her mouth on your boob, but teasing your folds as she ran her fingers through them and pinching your clit ever so slightly, causing you to squel. 
“ellie.. please…” you almost beg, desperate to feel her skilled fingers inside you already.
she presses her palm flat against your clit, ignoring your begs but making you jerk back into the ceramic wall as a small whimper falls from your mouth, ellie smirks knowing just how much of an effect she had on you. she wasn't leaving you ever again. 
lazily, she slips her middle finger into your hole, removing her mouth from your tit. the shower and your own slick providing enough lube that she didn't even have to prod at it. 
“jesus babe… you're so tight” you clench around her finger at these words, and she mindlessly adds a second one. your hands move from her neck to the steaming glass beside you, indenting your handprint through the fog as you lose control over your own body's movements. 
gradually, she begins pumping her fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, lewd and shameless moans leaving your mouth at an uncontrollable pace. she moves her thumb to your clit, pushing into it and causing as much pressure as possible, and it's not long before you cum with a yell of her name, babbling nonsense as she guides you through it. head in her neck as is hers in yours. 
“‘m so sorry” ellie continuously repeats as her fingers still work at a relentless pace inside you “i'm so so sorry, ill never do that to you again.” she moves up and bites your earlobe, continuing to pilot you through your orgasm before halting her movements completely and removing herself from your body. 
you lean back against the wall, eyes closed in content as you feel the droplets of water hit your skin, your water bill is gonna be so fucking high this month, all ellie does it look at you. admiring you in this post fucked out state. you reach your hand out, a silent request for her to take it and she does, right after turning off the stream for you. 
“that was… amazing.” you breathe out happily, she beams at the peaceful look on your face as you peel your eyes open, ellie's smile making you crack your own. 
“i'm glad,” she kisses you once more, the two of you smiling into it. 
“we’re okay?” she asks 
“we’re okay.” you confirm, and ellie has never been happier 
“how about we continue this in the bedroom?” ellie suggests, and you grab her instantly to lead her out. 
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people who asked to be tagged: @a-little-bit-of-everybody ! @lmaoo-spiderman @macaroni676 @p4ison1vy @fatbootymuncher @elliessweetheart
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rinhaler · 5 months
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hii <3 more uncle nanami please? extra smutty hehe <33
still can't get over how much everyone likes uncle nanamin tbh agjdkshlgadsg, enjoy x
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, sex toys, squirting, age gap, manipulation, forced orgasm, ddlg esque.
words: 1.3k
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“What’s in the bag, uncle Nanamin?” you ask, blinking up at him so sweetly as he sits on the edge of your bed. He hands it to you, it’s a glittery pink gift page, and your eyes widen with excitement. “For me?” you ask, taking it from him.
“For you, sweetheart.” he nods, watching as you take a long, gift wrapped box out of the bag. You look at him for permission to open it, to which he nods, again. It’s wrapped so meticulously, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Your uncle is so precise about every little detail. So you try and offer the same in return. You don’t tear into the wrapping paper, you do all you can to open it with minimal ripping. He sees how your eyes widen with fear when the object comes into view, and he strokes his thumb over your thigh. “Don’t be scared.” he tells you.
“I-It’s big…” you tell him, looking at the size of the box and the white Hitachi wand printed on the front. “Is this… a sex toy?” you ask him, innocently. He smiles at that, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your forehead.
He nods, again.
You open the box to reveal the toy, and it’s bigger than you could have imagined. You pull out the wire and plug it into the extension plug down the side of your bed. He watches you, like you’re a child opening gifts on Christmas day. And he chuckles when you turn on the wand and feel how powerful the vibrations are.
You meet his stare again, gulping heartily when you feel out of your depth.
“I— uncle Nanamin…” you pout.
“Awe, you don’t get it?” he asks, and you shake your head. He stands up and locks your bedroom door. He knows you’re home alone but he isn’t willing to take the risk. He’s thankful for his upstanding gentleman exterior, and he’s even more thankful that the rest of the family seems to fall for it. Even you, to an extent. It’s the perfect cover for him to spend this time alone with you. Corrupting you with each visit and moulding you into his perfect little girl.
“Do I use it on my… my…” you feel your skin sear with warmth as you flush with embarrassment, unable to bring yourself to complete your sentence.
“Your little pussy? Yes, sweetheart.” he finishes it for you. His fingers hook under your t-shirt, pulling it over your body to reveal a pretty, blue push up bra beneath. He reaches around behind you and unhooks it, your breasts spilling free as they’re bared to him. He hisses, quietly, enamoured by the sight.
“It’s scary…” you tell him.”
“No, no it’s not scary,” he continues. He pulls you further down the bed until you’re flat on your back. He pulls at your shorts and commands you to lift your ass so he can remove them fully. You’d decided to forgo any panties. You know they don’t stay on your body for long when your uncle is in town. “Gonna make you feel nice… I’ll show you.”
He takes the wand from your hand and puts it down for a moment. You’re already dripping wet for him, he supposes it’s some sort of pavlovian response to his voice at this point. He never fails to find you dripping whenever he sneaks into your room.
Your thighs are pushed into your chest until your knees are by your ears. He traces a finger from your slick clit down to your clenching little hole, his fingers ghosting the entrance until he pulls away completely.
He smirks when you jolt at the sound of the toy coming to life. Your whole body shakes as he teases your inner thighs with it.
“Remember I told you I want to see you make a mess for me one day? This will help.” he reminds you.
“Will it hurt, uncle Nanamin?” you ask him, your body trembles as the vibrations surge through you.
“No, it’ll feel nice. Really nice. It’s just tickling you now, right?” he asks, and you nod, agreeing. “Well. How about now…” he questions, lowering the large vibrating head to your cunt. And the moan you let out is raucous when he finds the perfect angle on your clit.
He covers your mouth, demanding that you be quiet. You’re home alone, yes, but that isn’t to say your family won’t come home sooner rather than later. His eyes are strict, but compassionate all at once. You’re humming, loudly, and dampening his palm as you try to wriggle away from the toy.
“Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me.” he tells you, moving his hand slightly to give you the chance to respond. “It’s good. Isn’t it?”
“Too much!” you yell, “too much f’me!” you cry you, earning his palm sealing your lips again.
“Be quiet.” he warns you, strictly again. “You don’t want to get in trouble, do you? You’ll like it when you cum, so be a good girl and take it.” he commands, turning the vibration setting up a notch.
Your eyes fill with tears and your body convulses wildly. This is nothing, he thinks. And yet, you’re flailing around like this? Your screams are muffled by his large hand, but he longs to drink up every decibel of their true volume. His pants begin to tent and strain and he relishes in the sight of the cutest forbidden fruit he’s ever head the pleasure of handling.
He turns the notch up, one last time.
Your eyes cross and you swear your heart stops beating. You’re cursing, though he’ll never know, as he presses the wand hard onto your firm clit.
“That’s it, good girl, cum for me.” he encourages you, adding the slightest pressure yet again to your trembling clit. “Make a mess of the toy. Make a mess of me. Wanna see, so show me, princess.”
And you can’t resist a direct order from your favourite uncle. You begin spasming, your cunt twitching as you cum. And it’s the hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. And you feel happy, you think, when you realise how elated your uncle is upon seeing your pussy gush out a fountain of liquid for him.
Your sheets are ruined, completely soaked and you can’t think of anything worse than doing laundry after how spent your little cunt is. But he’ll do the laundry. He’d never expect you to do something so menial because of his demands.
He’s thrilled to see you’re capable of such a feat. His trousers are equally as ruined as the sheets below and he hopes he’ll have time to change before the family returns from their shopping trip.
“Good girl, pretty fucking pussy…” he speaks, though you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or directly to your cunt. He pulls upward on your skin until the hood of your clit raises, putting more pressure on your overworked pearl. You yelp, helplessly, trying again to escape the feeling. “Sorry, princess, got carried away.” he switches off the toy.
He holds you in his arms for what feels like a lifetime as you try and process what just happened. You’re so wet. And you feel cold. But the warmth of his body caressing yours is enough to feel better.
“D-Do I… can I keep it?” you wonder.
“Yes.” he nods, “If you liked it, it’s yours.”
“Will you use it again? I-It was nice… so nice…”
“Of course.” he smiles, kissing the crown of your head. “And while I’m gone you can use it on yourself. You can make yourself cum whenever you like when I’m not here.”
What you like about your uncle Nanami is how considerate he is when it comes to you. But what he likes most about you is how easy to manipulate you are. You’ll become addicted to that wand and associate it with him. He’s never been worried about you straying and wanting to fuck other guys when he isn’t around. But he wants to be careful. He wants to make sure you remember who you belong to. You need to remember the only man who should make you cum like that.
What’s wrong with a man giving a gift to his favourite niece, anyway?
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© 2023 rinhaler
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ynsvnte · 2 months
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Oh! Nerdy Boy! - Lee Heeseung
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Genre: smut (18+ MDNI!!) fluff, college, classmates to fwb
word count: 1k+
warnings: unprotected sex. Fingering, nipple sucking, pet names creampie. Swearing. Teasing. Kissing
pairing: nerdtutor!hee x fem!reader
Masterlist
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You tapped your pen lightly onto the table, stressing over the question. You didn’t get it and recently you’ve been failing this class. Only if you had a tutor. You could just ask the nerdy boy. Lee Heeseung, but you don’t want to seem like a loser.
“I’m failing..do I really have a choice?” You asked yourself. You were desperate to get your grade up. Having someone smart like him wouldn’t be so bad. You get up and start walking towards him. “Hey..” you spoke up. Catching Heeseung’s attention, he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah?” He said ever so gently. You could melt right away. “So I kind of, well not kind of, I have an offer for you..” you spoke awkwardly. Heeseung hums signaling for you to continue. “I was wondering. If you could perhaps Yknow…umm tutor me..?” You were panicking inside. Please say yes.. you thought to yourself. You were lost in your thoughts, overthinking, heeseung response cut your thoughts off.
“Sure..” Wait, really? you were shocked. “Oh my gosh! Thank you so much I’ll make sure to pay you!” Gosh you were so excited, now you don't have to seem like a disappointment to anyone.
And ever since that day heeseung has been tutoring you every week. Your grades were decent, but you still wanted to be near him. Having spent a lot of time together, made you want him closer and closer. You would try to tease him. By of course the classic wearing tiny shorts. That would have your ass barely covered with a tiny tank top, that would barely hold your tits in. Sometimes you wear normal shirts but without a bra leaving your nipples bare free for him to see.
Heeseung of course took notice of your teasing, but he never said anything. Not wanting to seem rude. But after months and months of teasing. He hasn’t done anything yet. And today will be that day. Just like any other day heeseung came over to your place where you both had the tutor sessions. He knocked on your door until you opened. With of course clothes that could barely hide your nude body as a whole. He greets you stepping foot inside and heads to the living room.
“Soo…” Heeseung says, as he sees you reach out for your laptop. He can see your panties. Smirking at the sight of them. You sit back down and open up your laptop. And so the tutor session begins. But not 15 minutes in and you’re already “dropped” your pen so you bend over reaching for it. Giving heeseung a nice view of your ass. So he takes the chance grabbing you by your hips and settles you onto his lap. Pressing his raging boner against your clit.
“You think I wouldn’t notice sweetheart..hm..?” You were speechless.. “Aweee cat got your tongue, you seem so bold to wear such skimpy clothes and yet don’t have anything to say?” He teases you. Fuck you can feel yourself getting wet. “I-I’m sorry..” Pathetic.. Heeseung would've punished you. But you look so cute and all flustered. He grabs you and flips you around, caging you between his arms while you're trapped between him and the sofa. Heeseung begins pulling down your skirt revealing your soaked panties. He also removes your top, leaving you only in your underwear. Heeseung kisses you harshly, making you moan into his mouth. The kiss doesn’t last long before heeseung goes down and starts sucking on your nipples, making you gasp.
“F-fuck..hee-“ heeseung moans onto your chest. He’s busy sucking one while his hands play with the other. Heeseung boner is raging. So he pulls away from your tits. And quickly removes his own clothes. While he’s naked and returns back to you. Gripping you panties..
“Can I?” He asked to which you nodded. He removes your panty. Heeseung smiles at the sight of your cunt. He grazes his finger on top of your cunt, collecting your wetness, before plunging in a finger inside of you. You moan out loud. Already going dumb.
“Hee- fuck feels so good…” you start playing with yours tits. Pleasure taking over your body. You. And feel your high coming really fast. To which made heeseung pull out his fingers, making you whine.
“Ah no no. You won’t be coming on my finger. Instead you’ll be coming on my cock..” Jeez this man. Heeseung grabs his cock and begins stroking the base. Moaning before he gets to your entrance..tip near he looks up at you
“You ready?” You eagerly nodded making him push himself inside of your tight hole. You gasp out loud. His size being a little above average. He still pushes until he’s fully inside of you. He waits waiting for you to get used to his size. He leans in kissing you to make you feel better. He pulls away watching your face for any sign of discomfort. That’s when you speak. “You can move..” and so he does. At first his thrusts were slow. Before he begins to pick up his pace.
“Fuck yn..such a tight little pussy, all for me..” he buries his face into your neck. The sound of skin slapping is so loud the neighbors can probably hear it. Along with your moans. Your eyes are rolling back for too much pleasure. You can feel your high coming again..
“M-hm so close..” you moan.. “Shh hold it longer for a bit…I want to cum together..” you could only nod your head. Enjoying the pleasure of his tip hitting your g-spot over and over. But sooner heeseung can feel that he is close too. “Yn..holy shit I’m close..” he speaks near your ear. He quickened his pace. Making you both moan out loud. And soon enough you feel him fill you up. You moan at the feeling of his cum inside. Also slightly cringing from it leaking out of you. Heeseung is full of sweat, but lies on your chest. Gasping for air.
“That was good…” heeseung said.. to which you only nodded your head too. He looks up at you smiling.. “This isn’t a one time thing right?” He asked you..
“No…why would it be..?” You giggled..
“Good..I loved the way your pussy was sucking me in..” he said shamelessly
“Oh my heeseung!!” You said flushed. He smiled at you enjoying your reaction.
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Author’s Note: first ever smut hehe umm it’s 1 am and need to sleep so goodbye I hope you like? I suck at smut sooo bare with me PLEASE!!!
© ynsvnte copyright 2024
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moonastro · 21 days
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Solar Return chart notes iii
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**not my images**
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༘⋆ When i had my SR 4th house ruler in Pisces i moved households.
༘⋆ your SR 8th house in taurus can make you more laid back about money. You worry less.
༘⋆ mercury in 9th house in SR signifies continuing studying so continuing to go to college.
༘⋆ chiron in the 7th house of SR can cause pain with general people that you want to hang out with but they will hurt you or disappoint you. i had this and looking back i wish i could hug her🥲. (so please remember if you have this to not waste your energy on these people because you deserve better)
༘⋆mars in 10th house in SR can mean that you can be offered a job but you refusing or something getting in the way of it. also getting negative comments about your approach to your job.
༘⋆ when i had chiron in pisces, lots of feeling sorry for myself. feeling sorry for yourself and feeling like nobody cares can be a theme for this placement.
༘⋆ south node in 3rd house may signify reading more, i had this conjunct my natal moon and i read lots, especially lots of fiction books because moon= delusion and something that's not real.
༘⋆ MC in 9th house in SR can mean that people identify you with studying and view you as someone really start. people may see you with pen and notebook everywhere or with your laptop studying and may just perceive you as someone who is very educated.
༘⋆ when you have ASC is in Capricorn in SR, you might focus on teeth health more and educate yourself on it or can like your smile more or just smile more in general.
༘⋆ when my SR 11th house governed my natal 3rd house, i had a good relationship with my siblings.
༘⋆ pluto in 12th house, having difficulty sleeping or your sleeping pattern changes. lots of transitions in dreaming pattern also. one day you may have like 5 dreams and remember all of them then the next two days you cant recall any of them.
༘⋆ moon in pisces conjuct neptune= can feel numb that year.
༘⋆moon in 7th house in your SR can signify strengthened relationship with your mother or mother figure.
༘⋆ when i had vertex in leo, that year i had luck in my hobbies and did it more frequently, i found beauty in it and strengthened my ability of it. also was more public about it and like showed it off to others and received praise about it.
༘⋆ another indication of you and your mothers relationship strengthening is asteroid fortuna (19) conjunction to the moon.
༘⋆ the year that i spoke freely, without much thought, mercury was in aries in my SR. it was more talking whatever instead of nonsense if that makes sense. it was for sure a different approach to the way i spoke in the past.
༘⋆ mercury conjunct north node, you may be educating people with your words, speaking about valuable topics that people don't usually talk about or topics that you would talk about to anyone in the past.
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thank you for reading, if you have any questions feel free to ask, ill help out the best i can🤍
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chaethewriter · 1 year
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You're dead to me [6]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, barely proofread, i lowkey don't like this chap but it's cute, fluff and angst, silly siblings, sad Jake.
Word count: 3,1k
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Your flight back to high camp was amazing. Walking through the forest was something enchanting, out of a fairy tale, but the view from above was something so unrealistic. Colors of green, pink, and blue covered the ground beneath you, and the way the animals climbed the trees or flew just under you. You still couldn't believe where you were. You let go of the reins Neteyam told you to hold and you slightly get up from your seat, holding your body up as you tried to get a better view of everything around you. Neteyam frantically holds onto your arm, "sit down! You're going to fall!"
"As if you would let me fall, who will take care of my younger brother then?" You playfully hit him in the chest with your elbow. Lo'ak then came gliding next to the two of you, "bro! Did you already think of the excuse you're giving mom and dad by being late and bringing (Y/N) with us?" Neteyam groans in response, "I will think of something as an excuse. We are going to hide her in high camp until tomorrow morning by then." You huffed at his words, "hide me in high camp? What are you going to put me in? In a fucking woven bag?!" Lo'ak answered your question as a matter of fact, "I mean, you would easily fit in the bag?" You were ready to jump from Neteyam's Ikran right onto Loak's Ikran, ready to pounce on him. He might be your much younger brother, but you weren't afraid to fight the Na'vi right there and then. "Sis please!" Neteyam wraps his arm around your waist to pull you down, keeping you in place. Even though you were older than them, you had childish traits he thought you wouldn't have. Is this the effect of growing up early and finally feeling free? Would he get to experience that too one day?
As they approached high camp, the horns were heard through the night skies to notify the clan of a return, their return. Kiri facepalmed and looked at Neteyam, "well, there goes your plan. Ready to face the wrath?" His spine shuddered at the question, imagining the wrath of his mother if they took their sister to the clan, but they didn't have another choice now, did they? They couldn't leave you alone out in the open and you were supposed to get here tomorrow anyway, so might as well make you settle down, right? The three Ikrans land right at the opening of the mountains and your four Na'vi siblings climb off it with ease, meanwhile you struggle to get off the animal. You never rode a horse before, imagine a banshee ten times the size. Alright, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the banshees were huge compared to your human self. You huffed in embarrassment as you had a hard time getting off. You were one of the finest warriors and embarrassing yourself in front of a whole clan wasn't on your bucket list, definitely not. Neteyam held your legs as helped you down and you silently thanked him for doing so. The clan surrounded the five of you, standing in a half circle as they stared at you, either with curiosity or weariness. You felt watched, but not in a good way. You were a sky human after all, demon blood in their eyes. Neteyam stepped in front of you, half-shielding you from the prying eyes of his clan, "mawey Na'vi, mawey!" His chest puffed out as he spoke, shoulders broad. You watched him in awe. He was still a child, yet a fine warrior and respected by all. He would be such a good Olo'eyktan. The Na'vi made way as the Tsahik and her daughter passed through, moving to the front with ease as the clan parted like the red sea. You moved away from behind Neteyam, now standing right next to him as you brought your hand to your forehead, "Oel Ngati Kameie." You greeted Mo'at and Neytiri with respect once they were right in front of the crowd.
"I already expected your arrival, (Y/N) Sully." You're shocked that the Tsahik herself announced the news, just like that. The clan started whispering amongst themselves at the mention of the Olo'eyktan's last name and you felt yourself crumbling through the ground. Even Neytiri, your stepmother (?), looked surprised. You didn't know if that surprised expression was meant for the fact her mother announced it or the fact you're her mate's daughter. "I'm- thank you for having me." You bowed your head to show your gratitude, then your gaze traveled to Neytiri. She was already looking at you with those yellow eyes that had so much emotion hidden in them. You felt like she had a lot to say and you felt the same. "My people, mawey. Welcome (Y/N) Sully, daughter of the Olo'eyktan like she's one of our people. She's here to protect us from the dangerous sky demons." Mo'at had her back turned to you as she spoke to her people, emphasizing the fact that you're Jake Sully's child. If she did this to keep you safe, you are in debt to her. Yet, wouldn't something like this make it more complicated? Since you emotionally disowned him as your father? You did, right? You're getting pulled out of your thoughts by a hand harshly wrapping around your wrist. Your head turned to the person in front of you, it was Neytiri. She didn't say anything as she pulled you away from the crowd. Your breath hitched in your mask as you grew nervous, but you didn't complain. She didn't rip your head off, so she wanted to talk to you, right? Tuk looked after you as her mother pulled you away. She looked over at her big brother as she tugged his loincloth, "what is happening?" Tuk was still young, she didn't understand anything that was happening. "It's okay, Tuk! Let's get some food" Lo'ak patted her head, his hands running through her locks. Kiri nodded in agreement, taking Tuk's hand and pulling her to the fire to get their dinner. Neteyam looked after you as his mom and his sister entered their pod, hoping things wouldn't turn more complicated for you.
"Ma'am, what did you want to talk about?" You asked politely once you entered the pod, yet still tried to push her to get to the point. You still remembered how she acted when you taunted your father for questioning his parenting. Neytiri closed the flap of the entrance as she turned to you, cautiously walking over to you. Once she was close enough, she got on her knees for the height difference to not be too intimidating as she spoke, "You're my mate's daughter." You didn't know if it was a question or an extra form of confirmation, but you nodded your head yes. "And you're human." You nodded your head again. "I don't like you, you reek of demon blood." You rolled your eyes. You had to see that one coming."But tell me, child." Your head tilted to the side as you watched her in confusion. Tell her? Tell her what exactly? Neytiri could sense your confusion, so she continued explaining, "what happened, child. Tell your part." You knew it was a demand, yet you couldn't sense a lot of grudges. Her tone was stern and demanding, but not hateful. It was the voice of a wise woman, a wise mother. You decided to make yourself comfortable: taking a seat, sitting your butt on the soft woven carpets as you leaned against the wooden wall. "He was an amazing dad. He didn't see himself as it, but he tried. He tried for me and that's what made him amazing." You fiddled with your mask as you didn't know where to keep your hands, obviously nervous about telling Neytiri about all this. She nodded in understanding, taking a seat as well as she kept quiet to let you continue at your own pace. "Then he left so suddenly and he never returned. I had to hear from the people around me where he went. I waited for years and eventually gave up." Your hands were now lying in your lap as you moved your legs in a cross-legged position, much more comfortable than your last one, "until this day, I hold a grudge against him. He abandoned me, so I am giving him a taste of his own medicine." You didn't notice that your eyes were once again welling up with tears. Your left hand moved towards your mask to try and push it closer towards your face in an attempt to hide. Thank Eywa the mask wasn't transparent. Neytiri leaned towards you, even though she was very weary of you, she awkwardly extended her arm towards you to wipe your tears. Only for a few seconds as she pulled her hand away quickly, but your eyes still widened at the gesture, not knowing how to feel about all this, "you're a strong child with a strong heart, for a sky demon." She then got up and out of the pod. Now that you were finally alone, you once again got lost in your thoughts as you thought about your father.
Once Jake left to Eywa-knows-where, she turned to the backdoor of the pod, "I know you're there. All of you." Neteyam was the first to walk out with his ears flat against his head, followed by Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk. She looked at her children with a sigh as they all held a guilty yet innocent facade up. "If she's dad's daughter, our sister.. would you hate her?" Lo'ak was the first to speak up. Neteyam wanted to honestly hit him on the back of his head for asking questions like that, but he continued, "she's putting her life in danger for us, therefore she's not so bad right? Dad would have wanted you to try if she's his." Those words hit Neytiri like a truck. Even if she hated sky demons, her mate used to be one and he changed a lot in just a few weeks. Why not her? Being the adorable girl that Tuk is, she chimed into the conversation, "Mom I want to meet her! Can I meet her? Another sibling yay!" Neytiri's canines pierced through her bottom lip as she thought. She still disliked you, also because you were a sky demon. She was conflicted with her feelings, but then she thought about Jake's sad expression. She would be willing to try, for him. Just like how he always tried for her.
From the corner of his eye, Lo'ak noticed how his mother left the pod, meaning you were alone now. At the same time, a horn went off, indicating an arrival. All their heads turned to the opening of the mountain, noticing a familiar ikran about to land. Their father. The four siblings exchanged a look and Neteyam spoke up, "Kiri get some fruits for her and get her away from there. Tuk, Lo'ak, and I will take care of dad. Go!" Kiri followed his orders as she ran to get some leftovers for you to eat, meanwhile, Neteyam immediately went to his father. Lo'ak crouched down to his youngest sibling, "Okay, so don't say anything about sis (Y/N) alright? Dad can't know yet, alright?" Tuk didn't really understand what he meant, but she just nodded as a response, "yes!"
"Sister (Y/N)?" You removed your face from your knees as you were sitting with your knees to your chest, "Oh Kiri, what's wrong?" She walked towards you with a bunch of fruits in her arms, "I got these for you." You chuckled at the small gesture, "thank you so much, but I hope you know I can't eat all that." She looked at the fruits in her arms, "I mean, rather too much than not enough, right? Come on, let's go to the Tsahik." It looked like she was in a rush and you raised your eyebrows at her, "Kiri, what's up? You look tense?" You got up from the ground. "Just follow me!" She already walked out before you could answer her, leaving you all confused and lost. But you obeyed her and followed suit after her.
"My children please just let me be for tonight, I'm tired." Jake wanted to be alone right now. His heart ached in his chest and his eyes were bloodshot red as his tears were drying up. He wanted to find Mo'at and talk to her. "We want to show you something, you must come!" Neteyam never asked something like this of his dad, not since he was ten years old. So this made him feel suspicious. "Yes! Tuk made something so beautiful and she wants to show it, right Tuk!" Lo'ak made up the quickest thing he could think of, eyes gazing down at Tuk who didn't know what to say. She glanced at Neteyam who nodded, so she looked into his eyes with determination, "Yes! You must follow us!"
You sat in Mo'at's tent as Kiri cut up some fruit for you. The moment the two of you entered the tent, she knew that you needed a moment for yourself and left the tent in your hands. You sat on one of the mats as Kiri sat next to you, cutting the fruits up for you to eat. You inhaled into your oxygen mask, letting the oxygen flow through your lungs before you removed the mask, took a piece of freshly cut fruit and popped it in your mouth, reattaching the mask to your mouth to gasp. Kiri watched you in awe as you chewed your food, "that's honestly so cool." She quickly finished up and put her hunter's knife back on her hip. "Eat well and rest up, alright? You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." "Goodnight and thank you" the two of you exchanged a smile as she left the tent. You continued eating your pieces of fruit in peace, listening to the sound of the clan talking as their laughs filled the air. You popped a fruit in your mouth before reattaching your mask, smiling as you knew you made a good decision. They deserved to be protected.
"What is up with the three of you?" Jake grew frustrated at his children. They were standing in the pod for at least twenty minutes as the three rambled about the most bullshit subjects. "Do you know that I made this flower crown?" "Yes, you told me last week, Tuk." He tried once again to exit the pod, but Neteyam jumped in front of it as he scratched the back of his head, looking at Lo'ak for any other excuse. He was the best at pulling bullshit out of his ass after all. But also Lo'ak was quiet as his ears were pressed firmly against his head. "Well then, if you have nothing to say anymore. I have somewhere to be." His two sons stood there in defeat as they let their dad through, but then Tuk grabbed onto her father's hand, "no you can't!! (Y/N) will be upset if we let you go to her!!" Lo'ak immediately put his hand over Tuk's mouth as Neteyam coughed through that sentence, but unfortunately for them Jake already heard it. To check if he indeed heard that correctly, he crouched down to meet Tuk's gaze, "Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, remove that hand from your sister. Tuk, what did you say?" Her eyes were now also pressed against her head, knowing she said the wrong thing while trying to help her brothers, "uhm.. I said.." she felt overwhelmed as her dad continued to pressure her into telling, making her lips quiver. That was the point when Lo'ak had enough, "you are a terrible father you know that?!" The young Na'vi exploded as he yelled into his father's face. "You abandoned (Y/N) in the most terrible way possible! And now you suddenly crave forgiveness?! You need to earn that! You can't just go around yelling your 'sorries' while sobbing and not do anything?!" His fists were balled as his ears perked up, his tail standing tall, "she has a right to be upset and instead of sulking around you need to talk to her without the need to use your excuses!" And off he went. If he was a cartoon, the steam would have been leaving his ears. He needed to cool off. Neteyam watched his dad's expression falter, knowing Lo'ak was right with every word he said. He silently told Tuk to come with him, as he raised Tuk in his arms, holding her against his hip. "Did I do something wrong?" "No sweetheart, this needed to be done." And the two left the pod, leaving Jake all on his own as he stood still like a statue, painful breaths leaving his lips. He thought it was impossible, but more tears rolled down. Then he remembered Tuk's words. You're here, his daughter is here.
And he knew exactly where to check.
Jake moved from healer's tent to healer's tent. He knew that if you were hiding somewhere, it was somewhere in this area, the healing tents. He swiftly moved from tent to tent in search of your small frame. He eventually got to the biggest tent right in the middle, Mo'ats tent. He ripped the flap open and there you were, sleeping peacefully with the mask on your face to keep you alive. The skin under your eyes were stained with dried tears and a sob left his lips. "My baby.." he moved inside and closed to flap. He knew you didn't want to see him, especially if you woke up, but Lo'ak was right. He needed to try with all his might now, not with only his excuses and words, but also with his actions to show you that he cared for you, like a father. He quietly sat down next you, taking your small hand in his. You moved a bit in your sleep, making Jake tense in his movements, but then you stopped as you rolled a bit closer towards him, towards the warmth you felt. A genuine smile finally plastered his face, he felt at peace.
For now, he decided to enjoy this moment,
not knowing if it would be the last or not.
A/N: another update!! Hope you enjoyed!! And thank you so much for the followers, almost at 2k is a huge achievement! Tell me what you thought of this part. <3 now I'm gonna go ahead and work on my novella fr.
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tripleyeeet · 8 months
Text
I CARE FOR YOU (6)
SUMMARY: After an unexpected moment of intimacy, you admit your growing feelings for Astarion.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 2,768
WARNINGS: Fluff, cheesy gross rotten fluff filled with more realized feelings.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I can't tell whether or not I hate this chapter so uh, please be nice to me. I'm very tired and just :')
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER
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You’ve been drinking for a while now. Sharing a bottle of ale Astarion had nicked off a merchant outside the myconid colony. While speaking to her about the issue of her missing husband, he somehow managed to snag it unseen, along with a couple of potions and some coins that he shared with you.
At first, you were surprised. Sure, you and Astarion had become increasingly close over the last few days, spending practically all hours conversating or plotting —overall just enjoying each other’s company. But he’d always been firm about earning your keep. Typically for him, what you earned was solely yours alone and vice versa but when you asked him about the merchant theft he just smiled and pinched your cheek, thanking you for the distraction. 
It made you blush —uncontrollably so. The feeling of his fingers taught against your skin before their disappearance. As you moved alongside him, making your way back to camp, you had to compose the need to squeal, feeling your stomach flip while your heart wreaked havoc against your chest. 
Now that you were drunk such feelings had subdued. Lost to the clouded headspace of inebriation that has you lazily staring at the fire, a small grin plastered across your face as you continue to drink. 
Against your tongue, it feels warm and bitter, forcing you to smack your lips in slight disgust every time you swallow it down. “Gods, this is rancid,” you say, and Astarion nods, reaching for the bottle. 
He tips his head back to let it cascade down, cringing ever so slightly. “I swear I haven’t had a decent drink in months,” he complains, passing it back —letting the tips of his fingers brush against the base of your knuckles in the process.
You roll your eyes, feeling that nervous jump of nerves hit your stomach before shaking your head. “That tends to happen when you’re camping beneath the surface.” 
“It was shit before then too, I’m afraid,” he sighs. “Even at that grove party they were basically serving up bottled piss.”
“At least it was free.” 
He shrugs knowingly, agreeing as he watches you take another sip; scrunching up your face in disgust. It’s not good by any means but it’s the first drink you’ve had in days —and again it’s free— so you try not to complain too much. 
“I miss wine.” Snatching the bottle back, he takes another sip and groans, immediately giving it back. “Good wine.” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever had good wine.”
Immediately, he looks at you like you’ve just slain his mother. His eyes are wide and full of pain before they narrow to a point, prompting him to lean in close, peeling the bottle from your hands. “I’m sorry, what do you mean you’ve never had good wine?”
You shrug, reaching for the bottle only to have him raise it into the air, gripping the neck tightly. “Hey!”
“You grew up in Baldur’s, did you not?”
Ignoring his question, you roll onto your knees, placing a hand on his shoulder as you reach for the drink, groaning when he raises it out of reach again. 
“What’s the best wine you’ve had?”
You grumpily move in closer, maneuvering one of your knees to rest between his outstretched legs, feeling his arm snake around your waist when you inevitably stumble from the alcohol. Audibly you gasp and look down at him, watching his lips twitch into a smirk. 
“Give the bottle back, you ass!” 
His fingers fan across the fabric of your shirt, applying a bit of extra pressure that has you fighting. Resisting the urge to give in as he pouts at your words. 
“Ass? And here I thought you and I were starting to become friends.” 
That feeling from earlier returns. The one where your stomach tangles up and your chest begins to ache, longing for something you know you shouldn’t even think to entertain. “We are friends.” 
His brow shoots up. “Are we?”
Despite the constant attention you’ve been offering one another, you realize then that you’ve never actually discussed what the two of you are. How he makes you feel happy and loved and, above all else, safe. On more than one occasion you’ve thought about letting it slip. During the night when you wake up from your nightmares only to find him already lying next to you, you’ve thought about opening up.
It’d be hard. Seeing as neither of you is the type to fully express how you feel, the idea of verbally admitting that you care for him far more than you should could be detrimental. The kind of conversation that could potentially ruin everything you have going, knowing that he’s…
Well, he’s him. He’s guarded and cautious and deceptive. A man so unwilling to trust that even the simplest of gestures have you questioning his intentions. Wondering whether or not the side of him you get to see is truly real or not. 
You assume in some cases it is. Mostly because no one else has offered you that kind of courtesy. The others are nice. They care for you in their own little ways but something about Astarion’s kindness is different. More developed. It isn’t surface level in the way that Shadowheart heals you after a tough battle or how Lae’zel offers to help you cut vegetables at dinner. There’s something else that lingers. Something warm and tender that makes your ever-growing feelings fight through the ongoing suppression of your mind. 
A suppression that dwindles the longer you look at him —the longer you kneel, half straddling his thigh while your hands sit awkwardly in the air, begging to be touched. 
“I mean, acquaintances don’t do the things we do for each other.” 
You see his throat bob as he swallows. “And what sort of things do we do for each other, hm?”
His voice, despite sounding as confident as it usually does, feels different. Instead of teasing, there’s a genuine curiosity that forms, hanging onto every breath that filters through your lungs.
“Nice things.”
He scoffs. “Care to provide some examples, my dear?”
Instead of responding, you let your hands fall to his shoulders, feeling the sudden tenseness underneath your fingertips as you slide them up toward his neck and move forward. After that, there are still no words that are spoken. Only breaths that catch in your respective throats as Astarion’s thigh shifts towards the innermost parts of yours, pushing against you gently. 
Pressing your lips together, you ignore the feeling that presents itself when he does that, focusing on his face. On the way, his mouth opens up with bated breath —the way his eyes soften and his other hand drops the ale and moves throughout your vision to place an even softer touch against your cheek. 
Without even thinking you return his gesture from the other night, letting your lips press against his thumb as you close your eyes, realizing you want this. Whatever it is that he’s willing to offer. Whether it’s strictly friendship or more or even something in between. At this point, he could offer you the dirt beneath his feet and you’d take it. Bottle it up as a reminder of all that he’s done for you. All the words he’s said to make you laugh. All the hands he’s held to calm you down during your most anxious moments.
He could take and take and give absolutely nothing in return and you’d accept it with open arms if it meant you could stay like this. If it meant you could feel the brush of his thumb gliding back to cup your head and pull you down. 
“I know you’re not the most articulate friend I have but I’d still appreciate a bit more effort.” 
The sudden presence of his breath makes you open your eyes. Your foreheads are practically touching and by now your arms have fully tightened around his neck, further supporting your hold. 
“I don’t know. I, uh, I suppose you care.”
“Do I now?”
“I think so.” 
He hums. “What makes you say that?”
You purse lips, trying to wrap your head around the closeness of it all. The intimate touches mixed with the potential confession rising up your throat. “You do things that the others don’t.”
The hand that rests against the back of your head runs through the roots of your hair, gripping them slightly as he laughs. “You really are bad at elaborating, aren’t you, darling?” 
“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin; not surprised that even in moments like this he still manages to withstand his arrogance. “I just mean that it feels like you actually care about me as a person rather than just another helping sword in a war.” 
When he doesn’t respond right away you’re worried you’ve lost him. That you’ve scared him off somehow. Sometimes that happens when you’re in the middle of a conversation. Everything will be normal and somehow you’ll manage to fuck it up by asking something too personal, causing his retreat. 
It hasn’t happened in a while. Not since that night, he held you in your tent but you still assume it’s coming based on the way his gaze shifts, moving from place to place —completely avoiding your eyes. Usually, that’s the first step when he separates. Either he’ll look away or his eyes will go out of focus, leaving you by yourself to wonder how to fix it. 
Reluctantly you slip from his grasp, releasing his neck with shaky hands, feeling the way he tightens up but makes no effort to stop you.
“Sorry, I, uh, I know you’ve got your own… stuff going on.” You clear your throat, relaxing your hips against his thigh before you remember that you’re trying to give him space, prompting you to sit back up again. “Wouldn’t want to complicate that or anything.”
After that, there’s a nervous laugh that escapes your lips when you attempt to crawl off of him. One that grows the second the hand he still has on your back moves to grip your hip, pulling you back down with a rough tug. It forces the breath right out of you. Ripping through your lungs, it feels like instead of blood, Astarion’s taking your air, forcing your mouth to open in such a desperate way you almost whine out loud. 
“I do care —for what it’s worth. Despite the complications.” 
He says it so quietly you barely hear it against the crackling of the ongoing fire and the echoes of the Underdark. As it hits your ears, it sounds like the faintest whisper ever uttered. A quiet secret so safely tucked away that even the mention of its mere existence has you reaching for his face, cupping his cheeks with careful hands that wish to make sure he’s okay.
“You make me feel…” He trails off, letting out a frustrated sigh while closing his eyes. 
You can tell then that he’s fighting the barrier. Allowing its presence to overthrow his thoughts, fearing what might happen if he’s honest. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him it’s okay —that anything he says will be cherished not exploited. Appreciated to the highest degree possible. But then there’s the other part. The one that knows that what you say doesn’t matter. That in the grand scheme of things, words are merely facades we tell each other to hide the truth. 
You want to tell him the truth. More than anything you want to utter every hidden admiration over and over again until he believes you. Until he’s forced to hear the cadence in your voice breaking at the realization he believes that he’s untouchable. 
“I care for you, Astarion.” 
The words come out more broken than you intend. As it exits your lips, it’s coarse against your ears, making you internally cringe and close your eyes, taking a moment to breathe because you finally did it. You finally said something.
All you receive from it is a hum of acknowledgement. One that fails to give you any sort of relief. 
At first, it shakes you. Makes you regret even thinking you could earn anything other than a snide remark. But then you open your eyes. And you see him. The way he’s staring at you with confused eyes and open lips, begging you for more. 
“I don’t know what it all means yet. I just —I just wanted you to know that your friendship means more to me than you know.” You glide both thumbs across his cheeks, feeling the coolness of his skin wrap around the warmth of your own. “I know I don’t know a lot about your past. I don’t know how or what level it’s affected how you perceive your self-worth but I know you now. And I know that regardless of the shit you went through whether it was of your will or otherwise, that you deserve to be cared for.” 
That you deserve to be loved. 
By the time you’re done, you’re weightless. A feather of freedom dancing in the wind as it awaits its downfall. 
Glancing between Astarion and the space behind him, you find there’s no regret in what you’ve just said. No fear of rejection. No shame for admittance. All that’s left is the feeling of relief. One that grows once you hear him clear his throat and pull you close, moving his forehead to yours. 
“I don’t know how to do this,” he says, but that doesn’t stop the smile that pulls at your cheeks. 
“It’s okay. Neither do I.”
“I don’t know how to be what you want.” 
You inhale heavily, looking down to see the worry grace his face. “Do you even know what I want?” 
He opens his mouth but quickly stops, making you laugh. 
“I want you, Astarion. That’s it. Whether it’s you at your best or you at your worst, I just want you.”
“Me.” He repeats it as a statement. As an affirmation that makes your stomach flip. 
“I know you’re difficult to deal with. You’re stubborn and unforgiving and crass but I’m also incredibly patient.” You squeeze his cheeks, uttering patient through clenched teeth that make him snort. 
“I’d argue that most of the time you’re not but—“
You shush him, earning yourself an eye roll. “I’ll wait for you. With you. If that’s what you want.”
And you do. Pressing yourself further into him, you breathe and wait, letting him piece together all the words you’ve just displayed. Letting him sit and process the weight of them all in the form of nervous fingers that tap your hips before they slowly begin to slide. 
By the time they hit the centre of your back, he’s releasing his hold with one and snaking it beneath your outstretched arm to grab your face. 
“Can I share something? With you?”
You nod your head and feel him pull you down, immediately slotting his lips over yours in a way you’ve never felt before.
Somehow it’s soft while still remaining hungry. Deep beneath the careful movements he inflicts, there’s a desperation that has both of you moving your arms to further wrap around the other, forcing your chests flush. Against your mouth, he breathes new life into your soul —ripping the old away as he nibbles the edge of your bottom lip, eliciting a moan that makes him grin. 
“You taste better than I remember.”
Silencing him with another kiss, you move your hands to his hair, running your fingers along his scalp, feeling the way he shudders beneath your touch before pulling away. 
Both of you are gasping for air then. Staring at one another with blown-out pupils that make you look away in embarrassment. 
You’re not sure how to feel now. Before it was easy to pine —to think about the potentials and long for something more because it wasn’t real. It was merely a desire fuelled by curiosity so now that you have it, you have no idea what happens next. 
“We should probably talk, right? About things?” 
You can’t help but brush his curls from his face as he nods, giving you a knowing look that has you feeling worried he still might backtrack. “Things, as in?”
“The past. Both of ours. When you’re ready.”
Despite the reluctance you feel radiating off of him, there’s also a sliver of acceptance. An inkling of something new and warm that filters through as he nods his head, uttering a thank you before pulling you back in again. 
-
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whorekneecentral · 4 months
Text
A New Term
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Professor!Mark Webber x Fem!Reader
Warnings: age gap (mark is in his 40s, reader is early 20s), taboo content!! - professor x college student, worried mark, sharing a cookie, suggestive behaviour from mark, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), bruising but in a sexual context, cum play, finger sucking.
Word Count: 2,379
Author's Note: mark always had professor vibes to me, he's so dilf.
merry smutmas series
--
You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else.
The end of semester assignment kept you up way past your bedtime, the one question kept you on your toes. Your hand passed through your hair while you searched through your email for your professor's email.
Instead of using your winter break to unwind like most of your classmates, you were cracking out assignment after assignment, trying to get as much done as possible - that way you can focus on the exams when you return from the winter break.
The tab open to send your physics professor an email.
Dear Professor Webber,
I hope you're having a nice winter break and I hope I'm not disturbing you.
I had a question regarding the final assignment you gave out prior to the break; the last part of the assignment doesn't line up with the rest.
I'm not sure if I'm misunderstanding something along the way but it doesn't seem to make any sense. Hopefully you can provide me with some clarification?
Hoping to hear from you soon and again, I do apologize if this was a disturbance to your break.
Thank you,
Y/n L/n.
You shut the tab, sitting there for a bit as you tried to go back over your notes and make sense of the assignment, hoping you could figure it out in case Professor Webber doesn't answer anytime soon.
There's a ping sound coming from your laptop, the screen lighting up as you get a response from your professor.
Dear Y/n,
You're never a bother, you know my email is always open to my students, especially one as sweet and smart as you.
I hope you're getting some rest during this break and not overworking yourself.
As for your question about the assignment, I've looked it over and I see that there are some errors, I will have to email the other students and let them know. Thank you for pointing it out but if you'd still like to go over the assignment, how about we meet up sometimes? Perhaps tomorrow around 4 if you're free? I'll be in town.
Let me know, please do get some rest at some point.
All the best,
Professor Mark Webber,
Department of Physics.
You feel your cheeks heat up at the praise, something that happens often in the presence of your favourite physics professor. You send him back a quick response.
Hi professor,
Thank you for the quick response, I promise I am getting some rest. I would like to finish up what I can over the break so I can focus on exams come January.
Tomorrow at 4 would be great, how about we meet at the coffee shop around the corner from campus?
Thanks,
Y/n.
---
Four o'clock had come and passed, you had been there since 3:30, working away on your assignment. You occupied a booth in the back, your laptop in front of you, backpack tossed next to you and your notes and textbooks scattered all over the table.
Your head was buried in your textbook, searching for a certain passage to quote in your essay. Mark had entered the coffee shop and spotted you in the back corner.
His hand reached over, gently prying the textbook out of your hand. The action startled you for a moment but you relaxed when you saw who was across from you.
"Hi professor," you smiled, closing the tab on your laptop. Mark smiles at you, "please, we're not in class, y/n. You can call me Mark."
You nod, "okay Mark." Your nose scrunched, making a face. "Yeah no, that seems weird," you giggled, watching as he shut your textbook and left it on the table.
Mark says, "have you slept?"
"What?" You asked him, confused.
"You look tired, I hope you're not overworking yourself."
"Oh no," you shook your head, "I'm fine."
Mark nods, "fine, if you say so. Let me buy you a coffee - or rather not, you seem to have already had your coffee fill for the day." He glances at the two empty mugs on the table.
There's a small smile on your face, "yeah perhaps coffee wouldn't be the smartest idea."
"Something else then?" He suggested and you hum, "maybe a chocolate chip cookie? oh and maybe apple juice?"
Mark chuckles, nodding as he slides out of his seat. You watch as he walks the counter, ordering what you wanted and  a coffee for himself before returning to the table.
You thank him, eating your cookie quietly as you searched for the pages you had written out with your assignment on it. You catch Mark staring at you, you figured it was just cause you looked frazzled or perhaps you had chocolate on your face.
You hadn't realized that the man was simply looking at you in adoration, you never thought that he'd see you in that way.
"What??" You asked, looking at him. You passed a hand over your lips, "is there something on my face?"
He shook his head, " no, you're perfect.. as always."
You smiled, cheeks flushed red. "Would you like a piece?" You held your cookie out to the man, assuming that he'd break a piece of it off but he leans over, taking a bite of the cookie.
Setting the cookie down, you take a sip of your juice and finally find the pages you were looking for. Mark listens as you explain your concerns to him, the man helping you sort through your issues with the assignment. Mark goes as far as to help you edit what you have so far.
"Is that all?" He asks, watching as you pack your things into your bag. "Yeah, that was it. Thank you so much for your help, professor."
"No trouble at all, sweetheart." He smiles, the two of you stand and head towards the exit. It wasn't until you got there that you realized the rain had come down.
You didn't live far from the coffee shop, about a 10 minute walk but you did happen to forget your umbrella at home that day.
"Are you walking?" Mark asks and you nod, "it's not that far."
"Please, it's pouring, y/n. Let me drive you home."
"I've imposed on your afternoon for long enough, you don't have to do that."
Mark shakes his head, "I cannot, in good conscience, leave you to walk in the rain. Let me drive you home, I'm offering so you're not imposing."
You give in, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you to his car. It's black inside and out, the leather matching the colour of the paint and the smell was beyond manly - exactly like your professor.
With your directions, he drives you back to your place. The rain pouring down on the car, the heavy rain drops make a sound as it hits the glass. "Thank you for the ride," you tell him, glancing over at him.
"Wait a moment, won't you? I'm sure the rain will settle in the moment. I don't want you to get your beg wet and ruin all your work," he says, the words coming out innocently enough.
You nod, watching as the rain drips down the windows. You feel something warm on your thigh, glancing down you see Mark's hand resting there. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, not noticing his hand slipping a bit higher.
"You know, you really should get some rest, sweetheart. Try and relax. You deserve it after all your hard work."
You nod, "I'll try."
He smiles, leaning into you as you look over at him. "Good girl."
The words hit you exactly where he expected them too, watching you shift in your seat. "Is something wrong, sweetheart?"
"N-no, sir."
He hums, a smirk playing on his lips as he moves closer; you can smell his cologne, the mint of his toothpaste, the coffee from not too long ago. Mark closes the gap between the two of you, his lips meeting yours.
As much as you enjoyed the feeling, you froze - your brain screaming no, big red letters flashing in your head but you ignored them.
Mark senses your hesitancy, pulling away from you. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's.." You pause for a moment, "it's fine. Do you want to come in?" You asked him, hoping he says yes otherwise you'd probably have to bury your head in shame.
Mark nods, the man following you up the stairs and into your apartment. "Sorry for the mess," you tell him as you unlock the door, stepping in to take your shoes off.
He looks around, confused as to where the mess would be. The place was spic and span, not a single thing out of place. Your apartment is decorated like one of those Hallmark movies, Christmas tree in the corner by the window, garland wrapped around whatever it could be, even the throw pillows on your couch were festive.
"Where's the mess, sweetheart?"
You nod towards the one singular mug that was on the coffee table, "I forgot it there last night."
Mark can't help but laugh. "That's a single cup, y/n. Most uni students live in shitty apartments with beer bottles and weed. This place is a palace compared to everywhere else."
You smile, walking further into your apartment. "Would you like something to drink?"
Mark senses your nervousness, resting his hands on your arms. "Relax, y/n. It's fine."
You visibly let out a breath, holding onto the man as he walks you to the couch. He sits you down, his hand now cupping your jaw when he leans down to kiss you.
"Will you let me help you relax?" He whispers against your lips and you nod, not having to think about it for once.
The clothes are tossed all over the living room, you’re leaning on the arm rest of the couch in your panties when Mark kisses you again.
The man drops down to his knees in front of you, your legs over his shoulder and he kisses down your calf, to your thigh before he gets to your pussy. You lift your hips, letting him take your panties off, tossing it along with the other clothes. 
His nose brushes against your clit, his tongue licking a stripe up your cunt. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 
Mark’s hand on your hip rocks you back and forth slightly, just enough that he can hear his name fall from your lips. “Mark- fuck, there.” You pull on his hair, getting him to do what he did again. 
The sound of his name rolling off your tongue was enough to make his cock twitch.
He mimicked his actions again until he could feel your legs shake, your grip on his hair tighter than before, his name strung along with the explicits leaving your mouth. 
Mark glances up, your eyes shut and your head tossed back and he can't help but smile; he’s broken you down to nothing but a whimpering mess but he wasn’t done with you just yet. 
Your cheeks are red when you see him sit up, the lower half of his face glistening. You also can’t help yourself when you pull him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on him. 
You two shuffle around a bit, still on the couch when Mark flips you over; face down, ass up as he settles before you. Your back arches, the curve of your spine evident when he comes up behind you, pushing back against him as you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy. 
Mark’s hand grips your hips, pulling you back against him. Your moans are muffled by the couch when you feel him stretch you out. 
“God, please Mark, like that,” the words tumble out, begging him for more as he fucks you. His hands squeezing your hips, nails digging into your flesh. You can feel the pressure from his fingers, surely there were going to be bruises tomorrow. Your hand reaching under you, fingers barely reaching to rub your clit.
He pulls you up, his arm wrapped around your middle, your back pressed to his chest. His fingers dig into your side for a moment, squeezing you a bit. “Such a good girl for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear. 
“Mhm hm,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. 
Between the angle you were at and his hand sliding down to rub on your clit, your head drops back onto his shoulder, begging him to let you cum.
“Mark, god- fuck, let me cum please,” you ramble out and Mark hums, kissing along your jaw, “mhm I'm not stopping you, sweetheart.”
He lets you drop back onto your arms, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Mark cums too. 
The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.
He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.
“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Mark pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends. 
You lay there for a while, Mark on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum, one of his hands on your tit. 
"Next time you need some relaxing, you call me, okay?" He whispers, his finger dragging down your side.
You glance at the man, a raised eyebrow. "You just want to fuck me again, you dirty old man."
Mark laughs, "no, I mean yes but also no. I meant I'd take you to dinner or something, distract you from your work - but if you want to fuck, who am I to deny a beautiful woman like yourself?"
---
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sister-lucifer · 11 months
Text
Take Your Breath Away 
Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 
Genre: Smut 
Summary: Toby is a nasty son of a bitch and pulls a terrifying trick on you 
Content/Warnings: Nonconsensual breath play (the sex is consensual, the suffocation is not), bondage, Toby is a mean and nasty motherfucker, Reader almost passes out, homicidal undertones, a wee bit of degradation, listen it’s one of MY toby fics i feel like that’s a warning in and of itself, no genitalia specified for Reader, Reader and Toby are already in a relationship 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
A/N: Just to avoid confusion, in my headcanon Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s; i’m writing his stutter, not his tics! thankies!
It was no secret to you that Toby had some…odd “interests”. It wasn’t a secret to anyone, really. You could probably guess it just by looking at him. However, for the most part he’d been rather proficient at practicing restraint. Of course, that’s not to say he didn’t stare when you weren’t looking, and he certainly let his twitchy hands linger over your neck for a bit too long when he pulled you in. Maybe you should have kept a closer eye on him, but after getting so used to his unusual demeanor it was easy to simply brush it off. You noticed him staring throughout the day, sure, and you were definitely a bit put off when he refused to let you pull away from a kiss that had gone on for much too long, giggling to himself as you fought to catch your breath. 
You really should’ve at least wondered what was up when he silently walked up behind you while you were at the counter, wrapping a strong hand around your neck without warning. You could feel him grinning against your neck as he greeted you with a hushed laugh that made you shiver. He let go when you managed choke out his name, pulling you into him by the waist as if nothing had happened. You were naturally perplexed when he walked away, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it. Why should you?
He was playful, that was all, you thought. He was mischievous and liked to push his limits to see how you’d react; it was how he learned, seeing as he was never quite in tune with social cues. It was all in good fun, you figured, even if it had been a bit startling. 
Despite what you told yourself, there was no denying the malicious glint in his eyes when he posed you a jarring question: 
“Would you l-let me tie you up?” 
You stood quickly from where you were crouched, busy rummaging through a cabinet until Toby had violently grabbed your attention. It was out of the blue, completely unprompted, enough to have you staring at him slack-jawed in stunned silence. When you couldn’t conjure a response fast enough, he repeated his question.
“Would you let me t-tie you up?” 
“W…What?” 
You tilted your head in confusion, trying to wrap your mind around what could have possibly brought him to this thought. 
“Just say yes or no: If I wanted t-to tie you up, would you let me?” 
You struggled for a few moments more, your face beginning to feel unbearably hot. 
“I mean…I— I guess? Sure?” You replied, your eyes nervously scanning Toby’s face in an attempt to ascertain anything about what he could possibly be thinking. 
“Good, thanks.” He replied curtly before turning on his heel and leaving the room. 
He left you standing alone, completely dumbfounded. When he didn’t return and you couldn’t form the foggiest idea of what had just happened, you sighed in defeat and returned to your task. You couldn’t really complain; you knew what you were signing up for with Toby. 
Well…you sort of knew. 
He was certainly a wild card. You’d think you’d have learned to expect the unexpected by now. 
It took only a couple days for Toby to bring the topic up again, this time practically cornering you in your bedroom. You always felt small around Toby with his six foot four towering frame, but you felt particularly vulnerable when he has that hungry look in his eyes he always got when he really, really wanted something. 
“I’ve g-got a surprise for yooouuu!” He announced, one hand behind his back to conceal whatever it was he was so excited about. “Lay down on your stomach. Quickly.” 
You almost hesitated, but you were so morbidly curious you simply had to know what he was hiding. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, though. 
You laid down on the bed and rested your head on your arms, watching as Toby climbed on top of you to straddle your waist. You winced when he roughly pulled your arms behind you, quickly binding them together with the rope he’d been hiding behind his back. He gave one last tug to the bindings to test them, then sat back to admire his work.
“Looks g-good on you…” He muttered, and you’d be ashamed to admit it made you a bit flustered. 
He turned you over, and you were immediately greeted with the sight of his crooked smile spread wide across his face. You tried to return it, but something about it was deeply unsettling. You shuddered under the unblinking, unrelenting gaze of his dark hazel eyes. 
Really, what did you have to be so nervous about? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that he was planning something, but that was irrational. You trusted Toby, didn’t you? 
You did, of course. It was silly to even consider otherwise. 
You happily kissed him back when he leaned down over you. He pulled away from the kiss slowly, and for a split second you caught that dark swirl of something sinister in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. 
It was as if locking eyes with him put you in a trance, and it felt like only a few seconds had passed between that quiet kiss and the scene of debauchery that was unfolding now. 
Toby has you in his lap, his heaving chest against your back. His jittery hands have an iron grip on your hips, effortlessly bouncing you on his cock as if you weighed nothing. His heavy breath fans over your glistening skin and makes you shiver with delight. 
“S-Sooo tight—“ He whispers to you with a shuddering voice. He certainly isn’t worrying about hiding his voice, more than content to pant and moan in your ear without any ounce of shame. Your hands strain against your bindings as you struggle to keep it together. It felt like every time he thrusted up into up into you he hit even deeper than before, leaving no spot untouched. 
“You okay there, p-pretty thing?” Toby asks over your shoulder. You manage a nod and a weak hum in response, but any attempt at words would melt into a pitiful noise of desperation. 
Toby absolutely adores seeing you like this. It gives him such a wonderful rush of confidence to hold such power over you, the power to reduce you to a trembling mess with his bare hands. The best part, though, was how willingly you allowed him to abuse that power. 
You were the perfect plaything, hardly every questioning anything he did, at least not out loud. You were completely pliant in your own destruction, even if you hadn’t been made aware of it just yet. 
He adjusts you in his hold, allowing him to slowly trail one hand up your body. His fingers drum against your sides in a fidgety manner as they ghost over your skin. You don’t notice what he’s doing until you feel him stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. 
“Deep breaths, sweet thing, d-deep breaths…” 
The words should be reassuring, relaxing even, but something threatening has creeped into his voice and is practically spilling through his toothy grin. You lock eyes with him for a brief second, holding back a gasp when you see the unmistakable darkness swirling in his eyes. 
Suddenly a freakishly strong hand clamps over your nose and mouth, holding tight and immediately making your heart drop. Your air supply has been effectively cut off in an instant. Your first instinct is to fight Toby’s unfaltering hold, but you quickly find it to be pointless. 
“Don’t fight it, d-don’t fight…” Toby mumbles against your neck. “You’ll only t-tire yourself out…” 
He hasn’t even stopped thrusting into you, seemingly taking enjoyment in watching you squirm in distress when you both know there’s nothing you can do. Each thrust knocks a bit more air out of you, and you can already feel yourself becoming dizzy. 
As you slowly lose the strength to fight, Toby only becomes more and more enthusiastic. 
“Ahah…y-you’re so cute like this. I wonder if I-I can make you cum before you pass out…you think you can manage that?” 
You hardly process his words, but whether or not you heard him doesn’t matter; you can’t so much as nod or shake your head in reply. Toby doesn’t need a response, though. He’s more than content to listen to himself talk. 
“Y-You know I could never kill you, right?” Toby asks, but the question is not reassuring in the slightest. “No, no…I-I could never…but maybe I w-want to see what you look like when everything g-goes dark. Does that s-scare you?” 
You use the last of your breath to let out a desperate whimper, but Toby merely smiles in response. Your heartbeat is unbearably loud in your ears, so much so that it’s starting to block out his voice. 
“I b-bet it does,” He continues, unbothered. “You know what I-I am and yet…you willingly let m-me use you like this. Do you h-have any idea what I could do to y-you? Do you even care?” 
He’s mocking you, and it stings just a bit. He’s got a point, though. I mean, what person in their right mind would be so eager to please an openly homicidal maniac? Maybe you weren’t much saner than him, all things considered…
Maybe you should have expected this. 
You really start to panic when black spots start forming in your vision, dark ashen circles burning into your sight. Toby hasn’t missed a beat even once, watching you intently with crazed eyes that see every little twitch or slight move. Your vision is overtaken by the darkness all too fast and yet agonizingly slow, drawn out to a cruel degree. You can feel the last shreds of strength leaving your body, and for a moment there’s a flicker of acceptance that there really is nothing you can do, though it’s quickly washed away by your distress. There’s a split second where you’re nearly blind, only able to see the smallest shards of light, and if Toby hadn’t decided to pull his hand away right then and there you surely would have passed out. 
When you finally feel him let you go you inhale on instinct, nearly sobbing with relief when your lungs finally fill with air again. You cough and heave as you fight for your breath with all you can. For a few moments you don’t notice that Toby has stopped moving his hips completely, now more invested in observing you. Your eyes watered as you struggled to calm your sporadic breathing. 
“T…Toby—“ You call weakly, barely managing to speak. In response his hips twitch, reminding you that his length is still throughly nestled inside of you. You grit your teeth to hold back a broken moan. 
“Heheh, did you k-know you get this…this f-funny look in your eye when you’re scared?” He asks, but you know he’s not really interested in an answer. You couldn’t give one anyways. 
He adjusts your position in his lap once more, making you tense up as you feel him shift inside of you. He begins to drag a hand up your chest just as you’ve managed to calm your breathing, and it quickly finds itself dangerously close to your neck. 
“T-Toby, wait—“ You begin to plead, but he quickly cuts you off. 
“Shhhh, shhhh…Don’t f-fight me, pretty thing. Just let me play w-with you a bit longer…” 
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finelinevogue · 11 months
Text
hitties
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summary - you are jealous of people seeing his hitties out
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
word count: ~1k
“Are you kidding me right now?” You ask as Harry wanders into the room.
Harry comes strolling in the room with a pink sparkly outfit, with a tiny waistcoat that leaves his chest bare and exposed. The tattoos look perfect against his soft and tanned skin, making you just want to feel if his skin is as hot as he looks.
“What?” He asks in the most oblivious way, pulling his in-ears around the back of his neck.
“Do you want me to get on my knees?”
Harry’s jaw slackens open in shock and a little laugh escapes his mouth, “Excuse me?”
“It’s a simple question.”
You cross your arms over your chest and raise your eyebrows as you waist for an answer.
“Do I want you on your knee– of course I do, I’d be mad to say no.” He scoffs and walks over to where you’re sat on the couch that he carries around on tour with him.
He comes and sits on the arm of the sofa next to you, placing one of his hands on the back of the sofa so he can hold himself up whilst he leans over you.
He kisses the top of your head softly.
“Well fat chance of that happening tonight.” You say sarcastically, turning your head away from him.
“Babe, I’m so confused right now. What’s up?” He genuinely asks, concerned because you’re acting off.
“No, no. Everything is fine. Show your hitties to the world, see if I care.” You snarky remark, huffing to yourself.
“Hitties?”
“Yes,” You turn around momentarily to touch his pecs, “These.”
You suddenly wish you hadn’t turned around because Harry looms over you with a devilish look in his eyes and a smirk to match it. His eye contact with you makes you hot at the skin and you look down to avoid feeling flushed.
“Babe. Y/N, love, look at me, please.”
You slowly move your head upwards and return your gaze to his. Your pout makes Harry weak at the knees and he’s thankful he’s sat down.
“Mhm.” You mumble.
“I can’t exactly say I know what you’re going on about, but if I may just say something?” He asks, cupping your chin softly with his free hand.
You nod your head.
It’s not even a second later that Harry pushes his lips forwards so they meet yours, closing the distance. He kisses you with so much love that you forget why you were even mad in the first place.
You feel him smirk against your lips when you let out a soft moan. He pulls away and just as quick reseals his lips onto yours. He makes it desperate for more. The taste of his lips and the feelings he initiates within you, make you want to kiss him dizzy.
“I love you. I’m yours. So, you can be as jealous as you want, baby - if anything it makes hot when you do - but don’t forget I’m coming back to you every night.” He kisses you once more, quickly, “Hitties and all.” He whispers and you chuckle.
“I don’t understand how you can read my mind.” You shake your head.
“I know you too well.”
“It’s what makes you a good boyfriend.” You blush as you tell him. “Sorry for being petty and jealous.”
“You can apologise later instead.” He leans down further to your face level again, teasing your lips by moving his head closer and then pulling away.
“Oh yeah? How?”
“Well just like you said.” He smirks and you know you’re down for, “On your knees.
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mournings-stars · 3 months
Note
Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>
Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.
Gender neutral reader pls
I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol
If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^
Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!
okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like
you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime
during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you
i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)
luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you
i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more
“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe
you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin
“you’d better hide, little bird”
and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself
he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street
it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place
maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door
of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)
“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen
“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal
your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there
i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go
vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go
that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection
you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice
i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you
vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often
that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room
usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease
it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you
of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them
it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”
i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)
anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here
so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this
you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone
in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back
but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)
i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)
but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)
i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option
i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely
still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam
you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh
so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building
you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door
you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething
even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you
i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home
obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you
if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back
OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him
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monzabee · 8 months
Text
sunday blues – ms47 (+18)
masterlist || part 1 || part 2 ||
Summary: The one where Mick helps you the best way he knows when you’re feeling insecure.
Pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: angst, crying, cursing, fluff, insecurities and self-depreciating thoughts, smut, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), google translate german, praise words, minors dni!!
Request: “Hello! I am so obsessed with your recent fic with Mick and Seb's daughter, so I was wondering if you could write something where she is feeling very insecure and stressed and he just kind of helps her through her feelings, maybe something smutty to show her how much he lovers her body or something?👀”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this request has been sitting in my inbox for longer than i’d like to admit, but i’m so happy i got it done! it’s been a while since i wrote smut so if it doesn’t make sense i sincerely apologise, but as always thank you to the anon for the request and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
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Mick didn’t expect to find you the way he did when he was leaving your flat to take Angie on her morning walk, he really didn’t – because when he was leaving this morning, after having kissed you goodbye while you were still asleep, everything seemed fine. And although he is not the one to stress in these type of situations, his mind automatically goes to the worst possible scenario when he comes home to you crying on your couch in your bathrobe. So he does the expected, he asks whether you hurt yourself – the answer is no. Did something happen to anyone from your family? Nu-uh. Is it social media related? Nope. Did someone physically did something to you? No Mick, you locked the door before you left the house.
Every possible question that comes to his mind being met with a negative answer from you has him perplexed to say the very least, so he takes a seat next to you and offers what he’s sure will put you in a better mood; cuddles. With you in his arms and Angie on your lap, you do feel better, but he makes sure to ask any other possible option that comes to his mind.
“Did you try to bake cookies again?” His voice wanders off, his fingers running through the ends of your braid.
You lightly punch his arm, and then return your attention back to petting Angie as you pout and mumble out, “My cookies were not burnt, they were lightly toasted.”
He lets out a sigh, and after pressing numerous kisses to your hair to coax you, he gently raises your chin up for you to meet his eyes. “I give up, please just tell me what’s bothering you, hase.”
There’s a fresh wave of tears accumulating in your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks, and it absolutely makes his heart clench. You lightly push yourself out of his arms, careful not to disturb the dog sprawled on both of you guys’ lap, “Nothing, you’ll think it’s stupid.”
“No I won’t,” he promises, fighting you in order to gather you back into his arms, but you’re not above fighting dirty – meaning using your nails to keep him away. “Are–” He takes a moment to pause and clear his throat, “Are you on your period?”
Mick watches as your lips part and a sound of indignation break free from the back of your throat. Without bothering Angie too much, you turn in your place to swat at his chest as you hiss, “You are an ass, Mick.”
“Bu– I didn’t mean –” He scrambles to get out, but you’re already walking towards your bathroom, and all he can do is watch you walk away from him. This time, his eyes meet Angie’s, and he can swear his dog is giving him the biggest side-eye known to mankind, but he can only breath out a, “I messed that one up big time, didn’t I?”
Angie gets up from his lap to walk towards the bedroom. Mick soon follows closely behind towards the bathroom.
You can hear his knocks and a faint Can I come in?, through the closed bathroom door, but as you try to tame the mess that is your hair, you call out to him, “No!” And because Mick is a gentleman, and arguably the best boyfriend in the universe, he actually waits outside the bathroom. Eventually, though, you feel bad making him wait outside by the door and with a final glance in the mirror, you stomp a few steps and push the bathroom door open, revealing Mick's concerned face.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, but before he can continue with the rest of his sentence, you cut him off with yet another swat of your hand to his chest and another fresh wave of tears.
“I am not, and I repeat – not, on my period.” With a final hit to his chest, you walk back to your previous spot in front of the sink and try to brush the knots in your hair.
Wincing at the way you’re aggressively dragging the brush through your hair, Mick walks towards you to stand behind you at the sink and gently takes the brush out of your hand. “Here, let me do it.” And though you don’t want to admit, he’s gentle yet successful as he brushes your hair out for you. With his eyes occasionally drifting to watch you over the bathroom mirror, he dutifully manages to finish brushing your hair, and soon after you are back in his arms as he wraps them around your middle. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”
You shake your head with another sniffle, “It’s not important.”
“Hase, please,” he practically begs as his attention is drawn to your puffy eyes, “it is important if you’re still crying over it.”
With a guilty look on your face and an apprehensive voice that absolutely breaks his heart, you mumble, “You really want to know?” This time it is you who is meeting his eyes through the mirror to see him nod sheepishly, and as you occupy yourself with his fingers you find yourself mumbling again, “My, uh, my boobs are too small.”
“Your what, is what?” Mick stammers in surprise, blinking at the unexpected confession. His expression shifts from confusion to realization, and his fingers tangle themselves with yours. “Hase, are you serious?”
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission. “Yes, and don’t call me that.”
“What?” With more confusion he stammers out, “I– I thought you liked it, it’s cute.”
He watches you let out a soft whimper, and then throw your head back against his chest in frustration. After sniffling and, yet, another fresh wave of tears, which Mick quickly wipes away as he keeps his gaze locked to yours, “I’m not supposed to be cute.”
“Oh?” he asks, “And what are you supposed to be, then?”
“I don’t know!” The sudden sob breaking out from the back of your throat has his eyes widening in surprise, and also concern – but for the first time that morning, you seem to be talking about what’s been wrong, so he has no intention to interrupt you. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be anymore! I can’t be too perfect or too flawed, too confident or too uncertain; people have opinions and they are not afraid to voice them, so I end up feeling not enough for the majority of time.” Mick’s hold tightens around as you let out a particularly violent sob, “And my boyfriend has bigger boobs than me!”
Mick's eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief as your last sentence tumbles out, and for a moment, there's a pause in the air as he processes your words. “So you’re sad, because you think your boobs are not big enough?”
“Well yeah,” you mumble, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious under his gaze. “I told you you’d think it’s stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Mick announces, “everybody gets insecure sometimes; what I don’t understand is why on earth you would compare yourself like that.” Mick's fingers gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, and he turns you towards himself to lift your chin up, “You’re perfect the way you are, hase.”
You let out a shaky breath, his words slowly starting to sink in. “I just don’t want to feel like this all the time.”
“I know, darling,” he coos and then offers you a gentle smile, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your cheek. “You’re perfect, you hear me? My perfect girl, hm?” He ignores a whiny objection in the form of you dragging out his name. “The kindest,” he leans in towards you, “and the smartest,” then presses his lips against your forehead, “the most beautiful girl inside and out.”
“Micki,” his names comes off from your lips in a whispery sigh, your head turning sideways as his nose nudges your jaw. His warm breath tickles your skin as he continues to nuzzle against your jaw, his lips brushing over your skin in gentle, feather-light kisses. His lips stretch when you let out a soft giggle, “It tickles.”
Mick's lips curve into a playful smile against your jaw, and he continues to pepper your skin with those feather-light kisses, this time intentionally causing a cascade of giggles from you. His touch is tender, his affection evident in each sweet gesture.
“It does, doesn't it?” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he moves his kisses to your cheek.
You squirm slightly in his embrace, the ticklish sensation mixed with delight. “Baby, stop,” you manage to say between giggles, even as your fingers find their way to his sides, retaliating with a gentle poke.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” With a final loving peck to your cheek, Mick relents and holds you closer to himself as your giggles slowly subside. As your giggles subside, Mick tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with tenderness, lock onto yours, and he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Feeling better?” he asks softly.
After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you give him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll be fine, Micki, I promise.” Ignoring the look he gives you, which tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say, you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being here, you know?”
“Of course, hase,” he mumbles in thought, the material of your robe feeling soft under his touch as he lets the cogs turn in his head. With his eyebrows furrowing, he grabs you by the waist and raises you up to sit you on the bathroom counter. “On the second hand, I think I need to show you just how much I appreciate you, hm?” Ignoring yet another objecting sound from your lips, he places a kiss on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck, and moves his kisses down until he’s met with your robe again. With a playful glint in his eyes, he lets his fingers work the knot of your robe’s belt.
His eyes widen as his brain registers the fact that you are not wearing anything underneath the robe, and you reply to his flabbergasted look with an innocent shrug of your shoulders as you give him the excuse, “I was about to take a shower before I… well, had a moment.”
You watch as a string of expletives leave his lips, and he needs to take a moment to recover as he mumbles, “Guter Gott.” Though, as your breathy giggles bring him back to the present, he pushes your robe off your shoulders in a quick move, and you realise there is a much darker look in his eyes when your eyes meet again, “And you think my girls are not enough.”
Before you can answer, his hands are quick to grab your breasts as he gives them a firm squeeze, causing you to forget whatever clever comeback you had and instead let out a shallow exhale. “They’re small,” you complain, but he is quick to shut you down by pinching your left nipple between his two fingers – not enough to make it actually hurt, but enough to shock you into shutting up and letting out a small yelp instead.
“Stop talking,” the sharper undertone of his voice has you biting the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation, but his eyes soften as he looks at the bewildered look on your face. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he fixes you with his stare as his hands go back to gently handling your breasts, “I’m going to fuck you in front of this mirror so that you can see just how beautiful you are, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s a moan or telling me to stop.”
With a slacked jaw you stare at your boyfriend, your sweet Mick who is soft and treats you as if you’re a china doll most of the time. But now, he looks at you with a stern look in his eyes, and the fact that they are a few shades darker than their normally baby-blue colour tells you that he means business. “Can you kiss me first?” Your voice is breathy, because everything about Mick makes it harder to breath harder, and the corner of his mouth rise in a small smirk as his brain registers the desperation in your voice. “Please.”
“How can I not when my pretty girl is being so well-mannered?” He watches as you straighten up in your place, which causes you to come closer to his face and he lets out a low chuckle. “Patience, baby,” he moves his hands to cup your face and his thumbs gently caress the tops your cheeks. He teases you by dipping his head until his lips are touching yours, and he lets out another chuckle when you chase his lips when he slightly pulls away. But deciding to alleviate you from your pain, he finally presses his lips against yours – though his kiss is nothing like his soft touch from mere moments ago.
His tongue explores your mouth as if he hasn’t kissed you a million times before, but his kiss is as bruising as they come. He draws all kinds of noises from you, with a single kiss, and it would be concerning how much you lose yourself in him if it wasn’t too good. You manage to nip at his lower lip just as he is starting to pull away.
“Gut sein,” he mumbles, the small (but accomplished) smile on your lips bringing a smile to his own. “Now, what do you say to me for the kiss, hm?”
Be good, he says – you can totally do that. His lips move down to your jaw to then your neck, and your lips form a perfect ‘O’ when he starts nipping and sucking on your skin. “Thank you for the kiss, Micki,” you mumble breathily, your hands grabbing his forearms to move his hands from your face back onto your breasts. He lets an appreciative hum as his hands go back to fondling the skin under his hands, which elicits a louder moan from your lips, “Oh, that feels good.”
Mick’s reply comes in the form of another hum as he keeps on sucking hickeys, which will undoubtedly make you complain to him tomorrow, but the way he handles you is enough to convince you not to care. After he’s satisfied with handiwork; he pulls back from your neck to only dip his head more to take one of your nipples to his mouth while his hand is busy groping the other breast, causing you to weave your fingers through his hair to press him closer to your chest. His ministrations, combined with his intention of marking up your chest as he did your neck has you ending up as a whimpering mess on the bathroom counter, calling out Mick’s name to do something more in hopes of him keeping his promise. His voice is husky as he asks, “Now do you believe me?”
Your hands are on him the second he pulls away and his breathing is a mess while you scramble to get off his shirt; your hands gliding across his chest down to the start of his running shorts he has from his morning run, and he has to restrain himself from letting out a groan as you sit in front of him with wide eyes and lips that are pink from all the biting. You voice is also husky as you answer his question with one of your own, “Are you going to fuck me now, liebste?”
He smiles sweetly at your attempt of trying to take back the reigns, and he tries to appear in though as he slowly pulls you off the counter. “In a second, I have to check something first.” He quickly turns you around to face the mirror, where you watch his hand’s movements as it slides from your waist down to the front of your sleeping shorts. The gasp that leaves from between your lips causes his sweet smile to morph into something more mischievous, and you catch his smirk on the mirror in front of you as he lets his fingers feel the wetness between your legs. “You’re soaked, hase, I think you’re more than ready.”
“Yes, please,” your voice comes off in a whimper as you slip your hand behind you to palm the bulge that presses onto your back through the material of his shorts that hang lower on his hips. You let out another moan when his fingers make their way towards your clit, which is his way of reminding you of who’s in charge – and it’s most definitely not you given the fact that you almost topple over the counter when he presses his fingers with slightly more pressure. You hear him let out a low groan when you move your hand slightly, but his fingers continue their movements which causes you to let out small mews of pleasure.
After he pulls his fingers out of your short, and consequently makes a show of licking them clean that leaves you quite literally panting with need. Smirking at your reaction, he taps the outside of your upper thigh, “Spread your legs, baby, watch me on the mirror, hm?” He makes sure to place your hands on the countertop after he’s done taking of the remainder of your clothing and underwear. A part of you is sure he’s secretly enjoying the attention and how good you’re being as you silently watch him ges out of his own shorts and underwear. “You ready?”
“Mhm-hm,” you mumble as you nod quickly and gather your hair on one of your shoulders.
Mick presses his lips on your bare shoulder as he grabs your waist with one of his hands, grabs the base of his cock with his free hand and guides it between your legs – a gasp leaves your lips as the tip of his cock presses into you. He’s slow as he guides the rest of his cock into your pussy, and you drag out his name under your breath. “So good,” he murmurs as his hand joins his other one on your hip, and he tries to keep his hips still to give you an opportunity to get used to it, “always feel so good for me.”
Your hands grab the marble tighter as the stretch has you wanting to just press your hips backwards against his, “Move, Micki, please.”
He meets your eyes through the mirror and chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby,” he repeats his words from before – but he obliges you nonetheless, as he pushes in all the way in a move that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. He is slow as he starts moving his hips in a steady rhythm. But soon he picks up the rhythm, and every snap of his hips to yours has you becoming more and more of a whimpering mess. His eyes capture your blush that is painting your cheeks and he lets his eyes wander lower where it has started to move towards your chest, which he’s more than welcome to adore the view of your breasts moving with every move his hips makes.
The moans that rip from the back of your throat become louder, stronger and more demanding as Mick decides to thrust himself deeper into you – a sweet reminder that you’ll definitely be feeling him for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. You can’t seem to form sentences with words other than more, please and various forms of his name, but he grants you what you want when one of your hands leave the counter to pull him in for a kiss. It’s messy and rushed, but it leaves you lightheaded as you find yourself begging for more when he pulls away. “No, no, I want more,” a high-pitched whine begs, and you drag out the next word, “please.”
Mick lowers his head enough for his lips to be level with your ear. “Look into the mirror, hase,” his breath hits your skin, and he rewards you with a sweet smile, “you see what I see?”
“I don’t see you giving me another kiss,” you grumble, but quickly stop rebutting when his hips deliver a rather sharp push, “fuck, that feels good.”  
“Look how beautiful you look,” he pants, his laboured breath hitting your ear, “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You’re sure your skin will be bruised from the way his fingers grabs onto your hips – not that it would look out of place with other parts of your body he’s already marked you on. “And you say you’re not enough, God, hase.”
Your hand snakes its way from his neck towards his hair as your fingers thread through his locks. “I need more, Micki, please.”
But unfortunately for you, Mick has every intention of  ignoring your pleas. “Do you know why I call you hase?” Between the haze of him fucking you into the counter and his breathy words, you manage to give him a weak shake of your head. “It’s because I love seeing your tits when you’re bouncing on my cock.” To accentuate his point, he holds your hips in place as he delivers sharper thrusts.
“I thought it was because of the way I scrunch my nose,” you gasp while pulling at his hair. Though it is not exactly the part he chooses to focus on – instead, he watches as your already blushed cheeks become a deeper shade. Another gasp, this time laced with a louder moan, is ripped from you when he continues the sharper movement of his hips, “I– Mick, right there!”
“Shh, I got you,” he soothes your moans as he stills the movement of his hips for a minute to hike your left leg to rest it on the counter and then grabs the hand you have raised up to do the same, “hang on for me, okay?” He watches as you give him a tentative look through the mirror as he wraps his arm across your middle to reach for your clit as he harshly pushes himself back into you.
Combined with his thumb applying pressure onto your clit and the way he’s filling you up once again causes you to moan his name louder than before. “I’m not going to last,” the whiny words leave your lips before you can stop them, and he gives you a smirk as his fingers quicken their pace, “fuck, Micki, just like that.”
Lost in the pleasure building up in your lower stomach, you don’t realise his free hand moving up to cup your breast until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers to draw out another moan from your lips, which sounds more like a scream because of all the please you’re feeling. “Do you see how beautiful you are? Look at yourself, baby.”
“Please Mick,” you let out a moan meddled with a sob as you watch your reflection in the mirror – the way your body is shaking with every movement of his hips and the way his front is pressed into your back, the disheveled look of your sweaty hair, and the way your wide eyes accompany your blushed cheeks, “make me come, please, I’m so close.” Your words must’ve acted as a source of motivation, since he quickens the pace of his hips and presses his thumb more as he continues the steady movements, which has you chanting out nothing but praises and a string of yes, yes, yes, yes.
Regardless of the condom he’s wearing, Mick can tell when you’re close as you clench around him, and he urges you to let go by mumbling into your skin, “It’s okay, hase, let it go.” And who are you to not give your boyfriend what he asks of you? So he’s there to guide you through your release while you sink your nails into his biceps to still yourself. He’s not far as he reaches his own peak and spills into you, which pulls yet another moan from you as you also hear his loud groan – a sound you’ll never get sick of hearing. You gasp lightly when he eventually pulls out of you; though when he sees the tired smile you give through the mirror (and yes, maybe he does call you hase because you do scrunch your nose while smiling), he responds with one of his own as he presses small kisses to your hairline, “There’s my smile.”
“I love you,” your raspy voice whispers, and suddenly you’re lost once again in the way he’s looking at you – a habit you’ll gladly keep.
“I love you too,” he responds, his nose nuzzling your jaw before giving you a sweet kiss, and it makes him chuckle lightly when you’re chasing his lips once again when he pulls away. “Come on, now we both need a shower.” The sounds of your giggles when he picks you up to get both of you into the shower, and as you hid your face in the crook of his neck you hear him mumble, “Mein hübsches mädchen.” My pretty girl.
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callme-holly · 2 months
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Can you do dating Dallas winston headcannons 🙏🙏🙏
𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - oh, dallas winston, my troubled baby <33 literally none of this is proof-read so if you find any spelling or grammar mistakes please ignore them!!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 641 words
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - brief mentions of fighting
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it definitely takes a lot of time for him to open up to you. He loves you and that honestly scares him.
He's been hurt in the past too, so don't expect him to admit his feelings for you straight away.
He's not a big fan of showing affection in public. He'll sling an arm over your shoulder, sure, or keep one hand in your back pocket at all times to show everyone you're his, but he's got a reputation to uphold.
He's super protective of you. You've got someone who's messing with you? No worries, doll, Dallas will sort them out for you.
He doesn’t say it often but you know he cares about you and he’ll show it through little things such as giving you his jacket when you get cold or standing up for you when needed.
Arguments happen fairly often between you two and, while it's usually over something small and petty, Dallas will never be the first to apologise. He's far too stubborn for that.
In private I think he'd be pretty clingy. Not to the point where it's suffocating (*cough* sodapop *cough*) but he just likes to be around you.
He'll hold your waist and kiss your neck whilst you're doing stuff, constantly trying to distract you from whatever it is that you're doing.
He's touched starved and honestly afraid that you’ll leave him although he’ll never admit it out loud.
He gets jealous very very easily. If he sees you talking to another guy, no matter who it is, he feels threatened and is watching over you like a hawk. If he feels the conversation is going on too long, he will step in and put an end to it whether you like it or not.
If you spot something in a store that you like, expect Dallas to disappear for a few moments before returning with said items in hand. He’ll shove it into your arms, waving off your thanks with a small “It’s nothing, doll.”
Does he pay for it? Hell, no. But nobody needs to know that.
Date nights between you two are often spent either driving about Tulsa in Buck's thunderbird or sneaking into the drive-in to watch whatever crappy movie is playing.
He takes his time introducing you to the guys and when he does, it’s a pretty big deal for him. They’re pretty much the only family he’s got and it’s important that you all get along.
Sometimes Johnny will tag along on your guys’ dates. It’s not really something you get a choice in for wherever Dallas is, Johnny won’t be far behind. But he’s no trouble really. He’s more than happy to hang back and stay quiet, as long as he can see you guys and you’re there to keep him safe.
After fights or rumbles, Dallas likes to lay his head in your lap while you play with his hair. He'll deny it until the day he dies if anybody ever questions it but you know, deep down, he loves it.
Speaking of rumbles... you're his go-to after he gets hurt. he trusts you to patch him up and take care of him. Sure, he'll complain when you try to clean the cuts but eventually, he'll sit still and let you work.
He’s probably not huge on cuddling, but when you both spend the night together or if he’s tired and beyond the point of caring, he’ll let you lie on his chest while he smokes, his free arms draped lazing across your waist.
When he gets hauled in by the cops, expect a call from him begging asking you semi-politely for you to come pick him up.
Your parents will probably disapprove of him but he couldn't care less.
He’ll probably end up sneaking into your room most nights, but, hey, no complaints, right?
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𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!
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