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#and he did bring back TWO dragons
muffinlance · 1 year
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Zuko, banished, no crew, no uncle, no quest for the avatar. Says "fuck this" aka, if I can get back to caldera maybe I can convince my dad to take me back. Horribly wounded thirteen year old finds dragons, starts a civil war by accident
Zuko didn’t think he was still delirious. The Sun Warrior’s healer hadn’t wanted him to leave yet, but—
But he’s standing here, back in the throne room, and the room is set up again for another war meeting so maybe he should have waited before coming in. But the guards hadn’t even asked him—or anyone inside—before they’d thrown the double doors open, so. He’d thought father wasn’t busy.
The general he thought he was going to fight at the Agni Kai is here, and so are all the others, even uncle. And father, at the head of the table, standing.
Father is the only one standing. Everyone else is... They’re kneeling. 
When he’d come back to the palace, the servants in the courtyard he’d landed in had hurried to open the doors for him, all the way here. And the guards had let him in. And now the whole room is kneeling except for father who—
He doesn’t look like he did on the Agni Kai field. Father had been… he’d been so calm, then. He’d been doing what he had to do, to instruct Zuko, to correct him. 
Now he just looks angry. 
So. So Zuko is screwing this up, too. He practiced his speech the whole way home, it was a good speech, he’d based it on the one the Stone Prince made to his father the Mountain Emperor when he’d come home to beg forgiveness, bringing the treasures of the Ice Spirit with him as tribute. But Zuko doesn’t remember how he was going to start. And the flames behind father are getting higher, and hotter, and Zuko is okay now with flames that flicker with purples and golds and greens, but red flame is—
It’s so hot against his face—
“Father,” he croaks. “Father, I’ve returned. With dragons.” 
He is so, so stupid. Ran and Shaw have flanked him from the courtyard, have wound through hallways paralleling his path, are snaking between the pillars of the room until coils of red and blue dwarf everything here. Ran breathes her own flames out, and the fires before the throne shift from Ozai’s reds to the shimmering rainbow-sparks of dragonfire.
“A sign from Agni,” Uncle Iroh says. He’s bowed like the rest, but Zuko can see his eyes, and there’s the same glimmer there that father and Azula get before they do something Zuko should have seen coming.
“You dare,” father says, and Zuko isn’t sure if it’s him or uncle he’s talking to. But when he takes a step forward it’s towards Zuko and when he raises a fist it’s towards Zuko and when he makes the fire it’s towards Zuko and—
(And Zuko cowered the first time the dragons tried to show him their flames. It was all around him, swirling, and he hit his knees and shoved his face against his arms because he’d learned better than to look up. 
The fire stopped, and a whiskered nose nudged him, and then there was a huge scaly coil loosely wound around him until he was done crying, so at least the Sun Warriors below hadn’t seen how pathetic he was.
After that, it was… they made it a game. Little puffs of flames, the kind of sparks he used to make to keep Azula from getting fussy in her crib, until she was old enough to climb out and go exploring with him instead. 
He flinched at first, a lot, but they didn’t hurt. Didn’t even hit him. And then it really was a game, where he would spin their colors in with his own flames, and send them back, and they’d keep playing as the flames got bigger and bigger but somehow they never got scary again. 
When he’d stopped flinching at all, when he wasn’t a coward around his own element, he knew he was ready to return home. Grandfather had once welcomed uncle home with honors for killing dragons. So father would accept his apologies if he brought home two live dragons, right? Making friends with dragons had to be harder than killing them.)
Father’s flames were… they were just red. Zuko didn’t realize what he was doing until the war ministers were gasping. By then he was already spinning father’s flames with his own, mixing in all the colors father’s had lacked, and.
And sending them back.
(Batting fire around with dragons had not given Zuko a realistic grasp on the heat tolerance of the average abusive father.)
Uncle was not the first to bow, when Zuko had first entered. This time, he is.
“Fire Lord Zuko,” he says.
The war ministers are not prepared to countermand the Dragon of the West. Or literal dragons. They never left their knees, and they don’t start now. Foreheads touch the ground.
Zuko… Fire Lord Zuko’s first order is to take his father to the healers. He’ll let him stay there, longer than Ozai let Zuko.
(You can read this and other prompts at AO3. And longer stories, too. <3)
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satoruhour · 7 months
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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !
a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….
wc: 4k
warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut
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✶ GOJO
professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.
you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.
aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up? 
the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.
“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.
“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”
gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.
“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.
“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.
gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.
“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.
“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.
“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.
there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.
“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—
professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.
✶ GETO
you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.
it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.
it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.
you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.
“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.
“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”
everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).
geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.
“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.
“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”
as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—
“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.
“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.
“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.
a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”
geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”
“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.
how could he possibly say no?
✶ NANAMI
“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”
nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”
you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.
as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?
it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.
“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.
you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…
“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.
“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.
“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—
“what were you gonna say, baby?”
you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.
“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”
✶ TOJI
it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.
he would know — you got full marks the other time. 
“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.
toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.
his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.
your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.
at least now, you’ll make him.
toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.
your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.
that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”
you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”
“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.
“and how did you know i work here?”
“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”
toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.
“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.
“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.
“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.
you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.
“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.
“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”
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9K notes · View notes
anantaru · 7 months
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THE PRICE IN MYSTERIES CONCEALED
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — who was the man you fell in love with? why did it seem like he was hiding his true self away from you, and why, at last, was he hesitant to deepen the connection in your new relationship?
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.4k
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, first time intimate, playing with your tits (tit lover neuvillette), unprotected, he has marks on his chest, loads of cum lmao, virgin! neuvillette but skilled, quick learner, established relationship, size kink (dragon cock giggles), sweet sweet neuvillette he's the sweetest man
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there are no two ways to go on about it, but you can clearly hear the words neuvillette doesn’t say to you, you can see it in the light of his eyes. hidden verses evaporating in slow heaves, how rain puddles disappear on a hot day, when he ultimately decides against reciting his longings out loud to you.
instead, he imagined it in his hankering memories, how you'd feel under him, topless, bare and exposed, how it would feel when he was luxuriating in your velvet walls of your entrance and the vivid heat that would envelope him every time he sinks his cock all the way inside.
nonetheless, it's futile, he couldn't do it, he won't make the first step, but he knows, he could swear on it, that there was nothing warmer nor more welcoming then being inside of you.
in such predicament, neuvillette doesn’t know what to do nor on how to get rid of those improper fantasies circulating in his psyche, because, as it happened, he felt disgusted in himself to even daydream in such manners, about his significant other— someone he regarded as infinitely perfect beyond the limits of his own imagination.
besides, he's never done this before, again, he’s fucked his hand while thinking about you, feverish pants and hot breathes exposing him behind closed doors, most of the times it's uncoordinated and without knowing how to bring himself to a nice, proper climax.
neuvillette could never stop his digits from traveling down south before rutting into his hand so fucking desperate, with a heartfelt heat plummeting on top of his body, shudders when he drags over the slit of his cockhead, brows furrowed, pale skin battered in champagne rose, wishing it was your soft, warm cunt he'd be fucking into instead.
and it's not like you denied yourself to him, because there certainly were enough moments in the past where he was presented with the opportunity of advancing it forward, magnifying your new, fresh relationship— souls nurturing in the most sacred, wonderful way, while right before it could be turning into that direction, his eyes would suddenly be unable to hold yours any longer and his worry kicks in right afterwards.
then, as it happens so often, he could feel his embarrassment bottle up when he pushes himself away from you, leaving you behind, yet— remember, he doesn't lie upfront to you, he'd never defy your trust nor succumb to altering the truth, which made it even more awkward to begin with.
to be transparent, gone were the days where he wouldn't have to deal with the enriched pressure and heaviness in his groin, new, unlocked desires that if he were to ignore them, or at least try, only would bounce back with a more intense power, until he was painfully hard all day, not knowing on how to get rid of it once and for all.
to counterbalance, you eagerly note and remember the words he did speak out to you, and despite the veiled meanings behind it all, sheltered below a smokescreen of mysteries, it's there.
furthermore, it was perceivable in the doubled seemings, and despite that, the mysterious man seldomly exchanged words of affirmations, protecting the hidden truth that had been stored in his heart for decades on end.
the man rather spoke in the elusiveness of his delicate glances, and in his imperceptible touch, because there was a primordial light inside the action of his trails. from first principles, he never sought out any of this, because the way he saw it was that unclouded emotions for another individual are best left unrevealed in life. all that mattered, in the end, was what the brain spoke out to yourself, because strict rules must be followed.
but if any moment in time anchored his very soul, created a strong tether to this plane of reality he found himself bound by, it was the moment he fell in love with you.
neuvillette never let you touch him more, currently, he only kisses you smoothly, plants wet, open mouthed pecks along your collarbones before lapping his tongue up, sharp teeth slowly grazing over the soaked skin. it's as if he was scared of unspoken consequences if he were to move this forward, or of the sudden possibility to hurt you.
humans were fragile, he said, like a vase falling on the ground, broken into a million pieces and unable to be fixed again.
presently, your hands find his hair, and the bed dips as you shuffle your frame into him, smothering the small distance of your bodies, laying your warm hand against his clothed chest, just above the little jeweled medallion he always seems to wear. he gulps out strongly when you lock your digits into his form-fitting garments, just to pull him closer to your body as you open his mouth with your tongue, lapping over his wet muscle before pulling away with a pop.
"feel me." you say intimately, guiding his trembling hand over your chest, and awaiting his reactions, testing the waters, while his luminous eyes watch you contently as you pause, his touch reaching your covered breasts, and neuvillette draws his fingers into the concealed mounds, his lips parting for a low grumble, eyes opening wide as it got hard.
"feel how my body reacts when you touch me," you speak in a hitching voice, whining when he pulls at the erected nipple, whilst the fabric of your shirt turned his traces all the more roughened, intense with the garment rubbing against your sensitive tits, "feel how i love you." 
neuvillette sucks in a breath, crossing his tongue over his bottom lip, "i do not want to hurt you." he whispers, his cock growing hard and heavy squished against your core when he unintentionally grinds down a little, both moaning against each other, his breath hot, his noises hanging across the walls of the room. it's without a doubt that this time it's different from prior instances where he was, although with enough discipline, able to remove himself from you, faster and without making a complete idiot of himself.
now, neuvillette was unable to keep his own hips to a complete stand still, he moves them, softly grinds against your clothed cunt before fisting the pillow right next to your head, knuckles turning white at the sheer intensity and power he was graced with, chasing more of the incomparable relief that you are so preciously giving him.
you whine, a noise all winded and hot when you wrap your legs around his hips, "you won't hurt me." you murmur, catching his face with your palms so he could rest in them, "because i trust you."
he believes that maybe you miss it too, desire it, the pleasure that was unlike others, perhaps it had been lacking in every aspect of your relationship which neither of you expected to have in the first place.
and you're ravishing, he can't say if often enough, believing that you were made for living once, because you were one of a kind, made of mesmerizing lights and clear, pure water and a soothing birdsong, sprouting flowers and the finest silk in teyvat.
... unlike him.
neuvillette groans into your lips when you lick across his mouth, leaving his infectious tunes stretch the need in his rough voice, stretching it out long and slow enough until it sounds like a clear beg to fuck you, or at least continue with this.
but besides that, you cannot look into his mind, blinking up at his reddened face that was towering on top of you, "do you want me to stop?" you breathe out, smoothly circling your thumb over his bristling cheek, stilling your hips and attempting to close your legs when he wishes you would just kiss him again.
"no.." he replies almost a little too fast, as if he was ready to beg for it, and his cheeks catch on the color of scarlet red rather quickly, his hands scattering down to your hips to keep you from concealing your movements away from him, fuck, it just feels so fucking good he cannot believe himself.
"i apologize.." his face crumbles with the vulnerability in it, exhaling from his parted lips, "i've never—"
"that's okay." you mouth a spot on his neck, reaching his earlobe, "but i want to hear you." you tip your head forward and give a twist of tongue into his lips, skillfully arching your hips to rub over his erected groin yourself— teeth colliding against each other bound by a crushing sensation that was growing each second.
with a muffled, breathless laugh giving way to a soft whine when he adds more strength to his thrust, you longed to let him know how you felt— yes, right there, you say when he at last, slips his fingers into your shirt to touch your bare breasts, just like that, do it more.
you aid neuvillette in unclothing you as his body flexes under your hands, shivering when your eyes lift to meet his glowing ones, and there’s a moment— you can never forget it, crystalline and trembling on the edge of a leaf, that you could tell that he has been buried inside of his own mind but instead of going back to suppressing his desires, as he did countless of instances before, he answers now, without words— and oh, he gets bolder, the faint, needy whines that crawled into your ears made you rock into him, his digits slipping over your skin and circling on top of your nipples.
the prickles and vibrations in your veins and in your bones multiply and the temperature in your room changes into humidity— your craving body lightening up and threatening to float away by his ever so subtle, sweet traces and rounds on your tits, getting himself to work while you're anchored here only, all eyes on him, under him, by the rhythm of his fingers.
"take your clothes off for me." you say, pinching the hem of one leg and giving it a gentle tug. neuvillette hums in agreement, nodding right after, tongueing at the roof of his mouth in nervousness, because everyone could clearly see that he was tense, yet his cock was turning harder under your attention, he feels like it's going to explode if he doesn't do anything about it now.
he drops all the way back, body lifting off the bed as he slides his high-priced pants down yet not before opening his belt one handed, the "click" of the metal making you tremble, followed by the rest of his clothes which you aided him on, reaching down to drag down your soaked panties as well.
his cock bounces as he kicks the fabric away, and by the time he’s back up on both elbows towering above you, the fullness of it rests long and heavy against the crease of your thigh. His long, slender fingers giving it a slow tug as you watch, entranced by its size and shape— he was way above average, not even that would do it justice, coated with a bunch of small yet thick veins that reached all the way up, hard and aching, right under his cock head that had been desperately glistening with his pre cum.
time slows, stops, holds entirely; he dares to glance down, looking at your drenched pussy and how your hole fluttered around air, shimmering with your slick.
and you wrap yourself around him, arms out so he could lean into you. you know he's sharpening his senses to catch your reactions, adjusting his rubs on your tits when he notes a particular place being a little more sensitive and how you moan out when he touches it.
everything hits all at once, and he cannot get enough, both of you cannot.
for the first time, he experienced actually being free from his shackles and neuvillette needed your affirmations that it was in fact okay, you wanted to continue, because he never kept his eyes off you, always watching you closely through hungry eyes— for all that could happen, despite him continuing to be content with you.
the man was intoxicating, he was handsome from the depth of his ocean eyes to the gentle, sweet expressions of his voice when he whispers sweet nothing into your ears. neuvillette was beautiful, as if carved by literal gods, his chest defined, blue'ish traces, reminding you of tattoos, outlining the sides of his torso— but they weren't tattoos, they appeared to be a part of him since birth, how beauty marks are visible on some bodies, his were larger and resembling the kindest, most soothing waves.
neuvillette kisses down on your collarbone and you gasp out when he suddenly moves a little lower to take a nipple into his warm mouth, shudder when he crosses his tongue over it for the first time, it feels warm and wonderful with his complete weight on top of you.
and you can feel his hand, the rhythm of it on your other breast as it’s wrapped around the solid heat of your bud, continuing to palm your tits when his warm breath fans across your skin.
in this room, the man experienced so many different emotions now, but he feels more alive, within seconds, more awake, more present, and he doesn’t try to talk nor voice too much in the beginning, he just wanted to listen to the pace of your breathing, your whines and what your moans did to him.
he was waiting for your heaves to even out, align in soft decrease whilst he certainly doesn't realize that if he were to continue to hump your bare, thudding pussy the way he did, in accessory to playing with your tits and lapping his tongue across as if famished, there was no way for your heart rate to ever go back in an even pace.
regardless, neuvillette alters his breathing to match your own, his heaves on your wet skin, breathless, hot, when you begin to move your hips up a little, his cock nudging on your hole but never sliding in, his tip alone seemed to be big in it's own right and you wondered if you could even fit him in you.
of course, you were plenty wet, he made sure of that, always so kind and gifting.
your entire face buzzes with pins and needles when he draws himself back from your tits and your hand travels down to catch his girth in your warm palms, fisting him a little and spreading his pre over his drumming girth, grinning when he hooks his hands to your hips, pulling you straight down so his cock would be perfectly situated and ready to feel you, for real this time.
"tell me.." he mutters, "if you want to stop." and you kiss his lips featherlight, "of course, don’t worry about it." and nodding when you drag him across your folds to collect enough slick before slowly, agonizingly slow, push his tip inside.
your eyes flare wide and you arch your back instantly, no thoughts, no judgements, only your breathing getting cut short by the sudden piercing thrust burying inside your tight hole with a stretch that's more shock than anything else, and you hide yourself in his chest when you whimper into his ears, "slower, please". he understands and the restraints in his chest loosen as he wraps his arms across your body, as if protecting you in a sense.
neuvillette shuffles his knees wide and splits your legs further apart, holding you how he wants you, how he thinks will hurt less and even out the burning split on your cunt— he proceeds and fucks into you slowly, inch by inch, waiting a little, before adding another.
you ease up into him eventually, your walls getting used to his girth, the slap of his body against you quiet yet precise, his hips pumping in a slow, rhythmic roll that grinds the low of his stomach against your clit, spotting the prickling point on your cunt. you're turning hazy at the fullness, dipping your fingers into his long hair before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, lapping across him in slow twists, pinching your hips up to meet his blows.
now, all you could do was to relish in his warmth, curve your back like a bow and let the most desirable, filthiest moans spill from your pretty, pursed lips. neuvillette was quick to catch and watch you, swallowing down every gritty moan and whine that you offered him, because of him, he couldn't fathom that he was the reason you felt that good, passing his cock back into you, in, out, in, out, humming in appreciation between sucking kisses that leave a pinching trail from your neck to your tits that he ever so graciously played with.
neuvillette got a pretty good first impression of it now, and he doesn’t slow, while, his thrusts become faster and more, greedy, not until he unthreads an arm from the mounds of your breasts and caresses the length of your body— slowed and appreciative, sliding his hand over your stomach and up, reaching to your shoulder before hooking his fingers on it— thrusts now faster as he drags you into him, harder, and your tits bounce back and forth with each jolt of his large cock splashing into your hole.
of course he blushes when you tighten your muscles, clenching down on his girth and milking him preciously, it was a dead give-away that he wouldn't last long when he releases a long, lagged moan of your name. like his warm, wet kisses, the drags and fondles of his traces left a wake rippling along your entire skin, a sensory memory, never overridden by anything else.
the coil in your stomach builds up quickly, nerves lighting up when his tongue flicks out to tease the sensitive point of your neck and jawline, body sizzling as if electro infused as pleasure jolts down your flesh until reaching your cunt.
"make me cum," you cry, "i need you!"
"—you have me."
throat tight, body tighter, your hands quick to push him from your neck to your mouth, lips pressing together as you arch and jolt off the bed, up and down, his cock faster than before as the wet, filthy smacking sounds almost overrode your noises. you squeeze around him, hungrily, strongly, suckling in his cock with your thudding hole as his hand on your shoulder clasps behind your neck, pushing you so far up against his glossy lips that you exchanged breathes and whines, throaty groan and cries.
you turn your arms around his chest to strengthen the touch, throat bobbing, mouth dry. there’s no space for anything left and when he pushes himself in you completely, cock disappearing in your used hole, your eyes roll into the back of your head and you shake viciously, climaxing around him, making a mess of yourself, when the bubble in his stomach popped instantly whilst seeing you become free, your liquids drawing a white ring around his girth— neuvillette couldn't go on about it any longer, not when you gnaw down on him so fucking desperate, so loved and fulfilled.
he cums hard, and a lot, and he tenses up, a thrill running over his flesh as his brows furrow, releasing his warm whites with shallow thrusts into your pussy before tucking your body tight to his front and pulls you even more tightly against him, messing you up with his seed. he has been so touch-starved that he can feel drizzling tears form and connect under his lashes in tune with his own orgasm taking him hostage.
his expression softens afterwards, looking like a heavy burden has been lifted off his shoulders, and he dips his head forward, foreheads resting. it's quiet for a while, well, if it weren't for your loud breathes and the clear exhaustion quelling on your facial expressions. the both of you are puffing and blowing out air, finding comfort in the silence when a torrid heat of swirls casts on your bodies, the atmosphere in the room on-fire and fiery.
you decide to kiss his lips, when you finally smirk up at him, eyes aglow, and his own lips are pulled up into an ethereal, handsome smile, his demeanor cascading with an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness and love.
real love.
"i craved you." he whispers, "and i desire you." and kisses your lips one more time.
alas, neuvillette came to terms with himself, knowing that there would never be anything, nothing, that could ever beat the feeling of this.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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viviennevermillion · 8 months
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oooh what if vidyadhara reader with draconic feature just like dan heng (or feng) who's trying to hide the fact that they're jealous but the tail just gives it away by thumping on the ground like it has a mind of it's own and no matter what the reader does it just won't stop unless you grab it
but like, if the tail didn't exist they would actually believe it cuz their expression is actually very convincing
i was thinking of blade, dan heng and jing yuan back when they were still a high cloud quintet cuz i believe they were so popular back then
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With a Vidyadhara Reader
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: thank you for the request! i went with present time for this because i feel like i still don't know enough about their past to feel confident in portraying them accurately.
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: dan heng, jing yuan, blade
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: obvious — taylor trensch
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none
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Dan Heng, being a Vidyadhara dragon himself, immediately knew what was up with you when your tail started indicating exactly how he made you feel. Yet, because he wasn't open about his past with the other members of the Astral Express Crew yet, he kept silent, simply observing you and wondering what would become of your friendship if one day you decided to be honest about your feelings.
Dan Heng loves you too, but he's hesitant about putting you on the spot and forcing you to share something about you, that you weren't ready to share with him yet. And besides, that would mean bringing up the whole High Elder thing and he wouldn't know how that would affect your opinion of him. His memories of the past are hazy and he doesn't know who you were back then and what that would mean for you now. Whether it would make you see him with different eyes.
So when he comes back from the Xianzhou Luofu with dragon horns and a tail; the resemblance to High Elder Dan Feng undeniable; your eyes fall on him and you immediately know there's quite a lot for you to talk about
At first it's all about what happened on the Luofu and how Dan Heng felt about the whole thing. But he eventually decides it's time to talk about how your tail had been giving away your feelings for him for months now.
You're understandably flustered, still a little shocked from the realization that he likely knew the whole time. You had always brushed your agitated tail off as "things your nerves just do sometimes" so finding out Dan Heng was always aware you were lying about it was quite awkward
However, Dan Heng is happy the cards are finally on the table. He confesses that he feels the same for you and you decide on just burying the past for a while and enjoy your life together now.
You receive a text message from him the next day to enter his room and you find that he has built something akin to a dragon nest / pillow fort for the two of you to cuddle in. Dan Heng lays down with you in his arms and he places a kiss on your horns; a silent promise to stay by your side and love you forever; his tail intertwined with yours.
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Blade is... hesitant about falling in love with a Vidyadhara dragon considering how his last close bond with one went.
Blade actually is completely oblivious to your tell-tale signs of having a crush on him. He'd be entering the room and your tail would swish back and forth and he's way too caught up in his own head to notice. His thoughts are spiraling around what happens if you want him to be immortal too and what it means when you reincarnate or whether you will bring ruin to his life like his friendship with Dan Feng did.
Meanwhile you're just like,,, happy to see him
Kafka actually has to slap some sense into him by telling him about your feelings for him and your desire to love him and take care of him that is obvious to literally everyone BUT Blade. This man is DEEP in denial and half the time he spends with Kafka is her trying to convince him that you're not out for making his depression 10 times worse and that since he feels the same; he should just give the whole thing a chance and enjoy your time together
But these interactions made you wonder whether Blade wasn't into Kafka instead.
So your tail smacks onto the ground in an unnerved motion and Kafka chuckles, leaning over to Blade and whispering in his ear about how you're obviously jealous and he should just give in to his feelings already.
This in turn makes your tail act up even more.
This continues until Kafka one day decides to put you out of your misery and just tell you that Blade has a huge crush on you that he's trying to deny and that he mumbles your name in his sleep while snuggling a pillow, which makes you almost choke on your cereal.
Blade enters the room not long after that, finding your tail completely still from the shock of the information you just received. He turns his head to Kafka, speaking in a slow but annoyed tone. "What. did. you. do?"
This incident ultimately marked the moment you two got together but Blade still thinks Kafka is a horrible wingwoman.
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Jing Yuan is the only one out of these three who is not conflicted in the slightest.
Rather, he's having the time of his life watching you talk to him with a completely straight face while your tail is having a solo dance session behind you; something you were unfortunately very aware of. You try desperately to stop it from moving while Jing Yuan just stands there with a subtle smile on his face.
He'll subtly tease you about it as well. Asks you if everything is okay whilst he knows full well what is happening here.
When your tail thumps on the ground out of jealousy, Jing Yuan leans close to you and tells you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, this is before you start dating. He knows what he's doing to your poor heart by teasing you about this. He hopes it finally prompts you to be honest about your feelings.
Even after you get together, the tail is definitely a big help in showing Jing Yuan how you're feeling at the moment, so he can reassure you when he needs to and give you attention when you crave it.
He often pulls you into his lap and runs his fingertips over the tail, marveling at the scales and how you react to his touches. When he notices your tail is sensitive, he chuckles lightly and presses a kiss to your forehead.
Everytime he sees jealousy or a need for attention in the movements of your tail, he makes a mental note to take some time off to spend with you and pamper you with affection as soon as possible.
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daycourtofficial · 1 month
Text
Come to Bed
Summary: based on this request - a text from Azriel was meant to go to you, but went to his entire family instead.
Author’s note: I loved this idea this was so fun and definitely very on brand for the inner circle tbh
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Az: Come to bed :(
It was a short message. Azriel had been sick for two days now, and since meeting you, he can’t remember how he’d just go on during his sick days.
He used to go to work just fine while sick. He’d wear a mask and keep his distance, but he’d be able to go no problem.
But ever since you came into his life, now he was too spoiled when he was sick to go anywhere or do anything. You had insisted that your cuddles would heal him, along with the various soups you made him eat every day.
Honestly? It was a little awesome. If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, that is. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whenever he got up to shower you washed his sheets, and you brought him medicine every few hours. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and he was soaking in every moment of your attention.
But now you were downstairs, talking with Elain about something or another. You had told him what for before you left, but his feverish haze had made him forget. He woke up alone, having dozed off in your absence, and all he wanted was you to come back. He had just texted you to come back to bed when his door creak opens.
Azriel pops his head out of the nest he made to find Cassian crawling up his bed on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around Azriel, and spooning him over the covers.
Azriel coughs, “what are you doing here?”
“You asked for me to come to bed.”
Azriel’s head hurts trying to figure out what he means when his door opens once more to Rhysand strolling through the room, lying on Az’s other side.
“Ah, come on Azzy. It’s just like when we were younger,” Cassian tells him, his body heat helping with the chills taking over Azriel’s body.
Azriel sniffles, “we were like eight years old.”
“Well, Cassian hasn’t matured much since then,” Rhysand chimes in, staying on the bed but not too close to Az. He’ll provide some level of comfort with his presence, but he’ll be damned if he lets his brother get him sick.
“Why are you two here?” Azriel croaks, every word hurting his poor throat.
Rhys opens his phone to show him the family groupchat they had, the last message coming from Azriel saying, “Come to bed :(“
Azriel groans reading it, “I’m sure you could guess I sent it to the wrong person.”
Cassian chuckles, causing vibrations through Azriel’s back. He’s too weak to fight Cassian off of him, and the weight of him actually feels nice. Maybe Cassian would make a great weighted blanket after all.
“I never second guess any texts I receive. I assumed you missed me, it has been days since you’ve seen my glorious face.”
Cassian and Azriel continue bickering while Rhysand watches in amusement.
Mor comes in shortly after, bringing a warm cup of tea for both herself and Azriel, handing one mug to him while lounging across the foot of the bed. The tea soothes his throat, and he hates to admit it, but he does appreciate the presence of his family. He had been quarantined for days, trying to keep to his room as much as possible. He had grown quite accustomed to his big, invasive family. Your company was more than enough, but he did miss Cassian’s daily debriefs of his day.
Feyre comes in, taking residence next to Mor, as Cassian tells them all ridiculous versions of how he managed to destroy that building in the Summer Court. Each tale more ridiculous than the last, with Feyre even adding her own absurd version of events.
“I heard that a dragon flew in and Cassian fought it off with his bare hands and the only damage was that one building!”
Their laughter rings in Az’s ears as he closes his eyes, dozing, but not truly asleep.
You were shocked walking back to Az’s bedroom to find both of his brothers, Feyre, and Mor all lounging in bed with him. Azriel perks up at your figure in the doorway, somehow knowing you were there despite his resting state. His voice crackles from his sore throat, “save me?”
You walk in, squeezing yourself between Rhys and Azriel, and your boyfriend melts in your arms, falling asleep quickly as his family still chatters around you.
The next time Azriel wakes up, it’s dark outside, but he’s still cuddled to your chest.
“Hi sweetheart,” you tell him, setting your book down. He practically purrs at you running your hand through his hair.
“Sleep well?”
He presses his face back into your chest. “I would have slept better if they weren’t all annoying.”
You laugh, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.
“Poor baby with a loving family,” you coo, and he huffs.
“They’re not loving, they’re annoying busybodies. Except Feyre. She hasn’t gotten that bad yet.”
You smile, untangling his hair with your fingers.
“They might be annoying busybodies, but they love you and you love them.”
He squeezes you a little tighter. “I’m sick. I only have so much love to give and it’s all going towards you.”
You laugh, your hand moving down to stroke his back. He relaxes in your embrace, your fingers soothing his clammy skin.
“Okay, you can wait until you’re feeling better to love them again.”
“Deal,” he tells you, eyes growing heavy once more. “Just - don’t tell Cassian. He’ll get upset.”
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valeskafics · 2 months
Text
"Life Is For The Living" - Viserys Targaryen III x Baratheon!Reader
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a/n: from an anon request for vizzy 3! hope y'all enjoy 🩷
Summary: Viserys takes back what is his, with fire and blood. And along the way, he finds a queen.
Word Count: 2,500 Words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, dubcon at first, chasing, murder oops, mentions of incest, mentions of parental neglect, fingering, oral f receiving, loss of virginity, p in v sex
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
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When your mother hands you a vial and sends you, Myrcella, and Tommen down to the crypts, you know what has happened. You don’t have to ask.
The House of the Dragon has returned to take back what is theirs with fire and blood.
She kisses your forehead and tells you that Uncle Jaime will come to fetch you when this is all over. But your normally confident, fearless mother seems so terrified. So very unlike herself. You wonder if Uncle Jaime will really be coming to get you at all. You go to your younger brother, Joffrey, embracing him tightly. Joffrey’s body shakes, much as it did when he was a child and would come to sleep in your chambers after a bad dream.
That’s what this all is, isn’t it? A bad dream?
You press a kiss to his forehead, much as your mother did to you, before grabbing Myrcella and Tommen by the hand and racing down to the crypts. You hide them deep in the catacombs, resolving yourself to protect them with your life should it come down to that. You pull the blade your father gave you for your tenth nameday from your bodice, twirling it in your hands, taking a few practice jabs, readying yourself for a fight to death.
“Ours is the fury, little princess,” he’d told you, “You aren’t just a stag. You’re also a lion. You have the best of both of us.”
You are no fool. You know that you were the only trueborn child of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. Though you never mentioned anything, you knew it. And so did Joffrey. You knew of your mother’s forbidden relationship with her twin, your beloved Uncle Jaime. Though it is a vile thing to lay with one’s kin, you’ve grown up seeing how your father’s neglect has slowly broken her heart, chipping away at whatever love she may have once had for him.
You cannot bring yourself to hate her for what she’s done. Only pity her.
The rumors had been brewing since well before your father’s death of the survival of Prince Viserys, living across the Narrow Sea in Pentos, biding their time until he could come back and reclaim what was his. His father’s throne. Your father was swayed by his Lord Hand not to harm the Targaryen heirs, Viserys and his younger sister, but now, with the dragon at your doorstep, breathing fire and leaving nothing but smoke and ash in his wake, you curse House Stark. You curse Lord Eddard.
You curse your father, you curse your mother, your uncles. All of them, fools.
Viserys enters the crypt, his gaze locking on you, lips curling up into a predatory smile. You duck behind a pillar, your heart pounding in your chest. In the split second that you saw the silver-haired man, you hate that you noticed how handsome he is. You feel like a fool as you take off running deeper into the crypts.
For his part, Viserys finds the whole thing quite amusing. The way you scamper off like a little mouse. He’s taken what he wants. His birthright. And he’s slain the bastard king. Now, he’s come to claim something else.
The true heir to House Baratheon. The only one who can solidify his claim to the throne.
You’re quite beautiful, he muses, stalking after you. Almost ethereal, really, your long dark hair trailing after you as you try to run from him, your gown clinging to the curves of your body. He thinks how, in another world, the two of you may have been betrothed from childhood. How you may have grown to love him, shared your first kiss with him before the two of you were to be bed. But he doesn’t have time for that sort of fantasizing. No, he must catch his little stag queen. 
He hears your footsteps echoing in the stone corridors and chuckles to himself. Viserys imagines all the depraved things he could do to you here in this crypt when he inevitably catches you. Your legs will not serve you forever. You will tire eventually. You have no escape, no horse to ride away on.
You call out in desperation, “Mother? Uncle Jaime?”
Viserys cannot help but laugh at the fact that you think someone is coming to save you. He follows the sound of your voice, your sweet scent, gaining on you with every step. He swears he can even hear the pounding of your heart, your soft, frantic breaths sending his blood rushing.
As he draws nearer, he hears you whimper, the sound making his cock twitch in his breeches as he imagines what other sounds he could draw from those pretty lips.
“Please, my father is dead, and I’m sure you’ve killed Joffrey. My little brother and sister are no threat to you-” 
You gasp when he steps into your view. Viserys walks toward you slowly, toward his little stag lady caught in a trap. Each step is measured, purposeful. He wants to savor this moment. This is what it means to take what you want, with fire and blood. He grabs you by the throat, pressing you against the wall, his face so very close to yours.
“Please, King Viserys,” you say in an attempt to appeal to his vanity, your breath leaving you in sharp gasps, “I will go to Pentos with Myrcella and Tommen and we will live in exile. We will not challenge your claim-”
“How frightened you look, little doe,” he murmurs, his voice low and deep, sending a shiver through you, “So delicate. So fragile.”
You swallow thickly as he moves to trace your lips with his finger, asking, “Is my mother dead? My brother and uncles?”
“Yes,” Viserys says calmly, moving to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head, his violet gaze boring into you, seeing through to your very soul, “The Lannisters are slain for what they did to my good sister, my niece and nephew. Only you and the little prince and princess remain.”
A tear slips down your cheek, and Viserys barely resists the urge to moan at the sight of your watery eyes, “Are you going to kill us too?”
“No.” He sees the way you try to turn from him, moving to grip your jaw between his fingers, firmly but not enough to be painful, “You will not go into exile. Your brother will be sent to be fostered in the Eyrie. Your sister to Dorne.”
“And myself?”
“You, my princess,” Viserys murmurs, his breath hot as it fans across your lips, “Are to become my queen.”
The fear that had taken you over is quickly replaced by rage.
“Ours is the fury”, Viserys recalls being House Baratheon’s words. And you certainly are furious.
“I’d die before being your queen,” you hiss, glaring up at him.
Viserys smiles mockingly, a burning desire deep within him to make you submit to him, “So stubborn. You’ll need a strong hand to guide you, won’t you, little doe?”
You scoff, glowering up at him, “You’re just as mad as your father if you believe that will be you. I will not be tamed. Ever.”
He chuckles, stroking your cheek, “Oh, sweet girl. I do not seek to tame you. I seek to break you. I will make you fully and completely mine,” Viserys murmurs, “I will be a strong hand to guide you, to make you a queen. But also a soft hand, to caress that sweet face, to warm you in my bed.”
“I would fling myself into Blackwater Bay before allowing the man who murdered my family to warm my bed,” you snarl.
And he just grins at you, watching as you seethe. You see Myrcella and Tommen being escorted out of the crypts, though they are being treated with care. You glare up at the man who seeks to make you his wife, your chest heaving as you try to control your anger. Your ferocity, it seems, endears you to him all the more. The thought makes you sick.
“I’m afraid the decision is not yours to make, sweetling,” he taunts as one of his men tosses you over their shoulder, hauling you off as if you’re a mere sack of potatoes rather than a princess, “Give her to the maids. Have her made presentable for our wedding. I want her dressed in red.”
Your shrieks of protest echo through the crypt’s halls as you are carried off to be made ready for what is meant to be the most important day of your life.
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The wedding passes with little pomp and circumstance. After all, Viserys’ forces are busy taking control of the city. There isn’t enough time to round up the nobility to witness your nuptials. Only Viserys’ sister, your own surviving siblings, and Khal Drogo bear witness to your marriage as the septon declares you man and wife. You scowl as he leads you to the chambers that once belonged to your mother and father, the ones your mother stopped sleeping in so many years ago. When she realized your father loved a ghost more than he could ever love her.
A wave of resentment hits you. You know your mother cared for Joffrey and Myrcella and Tommen more than you. Perhaps because they were borne of a union with a man she truly loved. You know that when she looked at you, she did not see her daughter. She saw Robert’s. And while your heart aches at her death - and Joffrey’s - your grief is not so overpowering as it should be.
Viserys enters the room, seeing you standing there, candles lit all around you, bathing the room in their golden glow, illuminating your body, covered only by a thin shift, your dark hair falling to the small of your back. You hold your head high as you glare at him. And something grows in him. Something he’s never felt before. He walks to you, taking you in his arms.
“Is this the part where I am meant to bow, husband?” You snark, spitting the last word with as much vitriol as you can muster.
And he just stares at you, moving to cup your face in his hands. You are so small compared to him, so delicate. And yet so strong.
“No. You are my queen. You bow to no one, sweet wife.”
You try to slap his hand away, “If you think for one second I’ll allow you to touch me-”
He thinks about punishing you, but his lust wins over his anger, hand reaching for you again as he tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you close. He is a king, ready to claim his queen. You whine quietly at the tug at your scalp, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You don’t quite understand why the slight sting feels so pleasurable.
Why your body is suddenly overcome by the desire to be close to him. To let him take you.
He tugs at the laces of your shift, smirking as your bare body is revealed to him. You freeze in place, feeling his hands moving to caress the soft flesh of your breasts, whimpering as he pinches at your nipples, feeling them pebble beneath his fingers. He steps back to stare at you, with all the hunger of a dragon about to devour its prey. Your breath catches at the way he looks at you, his hands moving to cup your breasts once again, squeezing as he lets out a quiet groan of your name.
Viserys kisses you, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that has you gasping for air. Heat coils in your belly as he pushes you down onto the bed, removing his tunic and breeches, revealing his lithe frame to you, your eyes trailing along his chest to his stomach, all the way to his cock. You stare up at him, and Viserys notices something in your eyes that gives him pause.
Fear.
You’re a maiden.
He moves to caress your hair, wrapping an arm around your back and pulls you into a more gentle, tender kiss. You hesitate in kissing him back for a moment, but then you wrap your arms around him, melting into his embrace. Viserys’ hand moves to the apex between your thighs, stroking your cunt, feeling you shiver around him as he prepares you for what’s to come. He gazes into your eyes as he pushes one finger inside you, slowly, groaning as he feels you squeeze around him. He crooks it in a come hither motion and slowly begins pumping his finger in and out of you, his thumb rubbing against your swollen pearl, making you gasp. Your eyes flutter shut and Viserys is utterly transfixed by the expression on your face, the way your hips slightly cant up, meeting his motions, pleasure curling in your stomach as you chase your peak, spilling yourself around his fingers.
You look at him confused as he moves to push your thighs apart, gasping when he buries his tongue deep inside your cunt, moaning against you, the vibration from his voice against your sensitive flesh driving you mad. The noises he makes, the feeling of him fucking you with his tongue, caressing your wet folds with the muscle, it all feels like too much and yet not enough at all. Viserys moves to pinch at your pearl, smirking against you when you whine, your hips bucking as you get closer and closer to your second climax. You all but scream his name when you finally come, allowing him to taste your arousal in earnest, a smirk spreading across his face.
“You taste divine, my queen,” he murmurs, crawling back up over you, pressing his lips to yours, “See for yourself.”
You almost feel ashamed at the wanton way you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue, but you realize there is nothing to be ashamed of. And you relax into the kiss, feeling him running his cock along your aching cunt, the tip rubbing against your pearl.
“You don’t wish for me to use my mouth?”
Viserys shakes his head, smiling at you coyly, “No. There will be plenty of time for that. Tonight is a special night for you. When I take your maidenhead. I wish for this to be about you.”
You wonder, as he joins your bodies, the slight sting making you wince, if he is to be like this, how you’re meant to keep yourself from falling in love with him. How to keep yourself from falling in love with the man who killed your mother, your uncles, your brother.
But as he moves against you, his cock hard and heavy as he fills you, hips rutting against yours at an easy, languid pace, you realize that you don’t care.
Life is for the living.
And you intend on living a very long life as his queen.
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blueparadis · 2 months
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~ :: ❛Electric Love ❜ :: ୨ content + warnings ୧ ~ f!reader, 3sum, dub-con, [un]protected sex, oral acts, use of pet names, specified tags with synopsis for each pairing utc, hc format; absolute filth that i havn't been able to get out of my mind. mdni & support banners by @/hitobaby· ʚ tag index. ɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝
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neuvillette + zhongli // syn : Two dragons who wandered the earth with certain purpose, stumbled upon a villager girl whose fate turned upside down when they laid eyes on her. // monsterfvcking, dubcon, double penetration.
If you had known that kindness would have you ended up being captured, chained and caged in a cave you would have never offered food and refuge to those young men. During days you were free to go anywhere and at night they would visit you, Zhongli and Neuvillette would talk and dine with you. And when the starts would bloom in the night sky they would slowly warm up to you, get cozy and handsy with you. Their touch definately had something, something boderly human yet compltely inhuman. Once, out of curiosity you tried to runaway, but ended up getting lost because everywhere you looked there were just vast stretches of forest whichever way you chose to go. Besides, if you wandered too far away from the cave the blue dragon would always bring you back to their nest.
At night, during the dark Zhongli would cover your eyes for a second with his hand and when he removed them all you witnessed was darkness. you can only feel them, the inhuman side of such affection. every time they visit you for mating, they would deprive you of your vision. You could feel their cool slippery skin against yours, long and powerful tongue licking your skin, sharp fangs digging your skin and marking you in your most intimate parts: inbetween your things, around your boobs, on your butt, and sometimes calf muscles. And when it is all over, you would wake up to a nest made of scales of different colors, but mainly blue and yellow, glowing in the dark, during the night providing you both warmth and light. But they never properly mated with you. It always ended up with overstimulating themselves with you; until that night when full moon shone at one starry night.
At that night, they did not blindfold you. Zhongli had your back against his chest as his golden-brown tail kept you in place, his hand toyed with your nipples while Neuvillette became busy in between your legs, his tail moving ocassionally as he slurped your juices. This is the first time your eyes are witnessing their inhuman form: to see them in this way after so many days was overwhelming and astonishing but not rebuking: all the while you could only feel them. You extended your hands to touch Neuvillette head but Zhongli grabbed both of your arms by the wrists. "Look at me, bunny." he commands, also gaining Neuvillette's attention. They share a moment of eye contact as he pulled you up, his cock nudging your entrance.
Neuvillette partly standing, on his knees, scooted closer speading your legs and pushing his cock inside you. His large, predatory hands that exhibitted so much strenght started touching your boobs so gently and so slowly. He has been playing with your tits for a while; your nipples are starting to itch and ache. His tongue wets his bottom lip as he twists and turns your taut nipples but he gives in finally. He hunches down to reach down to your boobs to suckle and mark them, like he usually does. Zhongli silences your moans and whines as he starts to buck his hips against yours.
Its wild how their cocks are grazing against each other inside of you as you slowly lose your vision. you can feel them being close, the cave being slowly full of echos of growls and moans, squelching of skins and low dragon squeals. You recognize the venus in the sky for a second. their wings flap open when the knot inside of you tightens, and a gush of cum leaks from between the skins when all of you climax together. They huff and pant, their cocks still throbbing inside you so does your body as they wait for their knot to slowly unwind. You are entirely covered by their wings, the scales from their body start to peel off and deposit to form a nest. They share a look before digging their fangs into your neck, both of them marking your neck, simultaneoulsy as you lull into deep slumber.
Next morning, you woke up naked, both of them curled up on either side of you. This is the first time they had spent the night as well as made it till dawn, their scales covering certain parts of your body and a stinging pain on both sides of your neck. Now you know they truly belong to you and only you, a sense of protection fills your heart as you run your hands over the both sides of your neck. An act of kindness that promised protection in return from any peril that your fate had to follow. What a gift! What a blessing life is!
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kaeya + dainsleif // syn : In the absence of the owner of Dawn Winery, Kaeya offers special services to the Bough Keeper, Dainselif // nipple stimulation, spit k!nk, voyeur!kaeya, exhibitionist!dansleif.
The moon smiles brightly along with the sparkling stars adorning the night sky. Lord Diluc has already left The Dawn Winery around evening properly telling you the instructions and procedures for each and every little thing. On top of that, he has given you the privilege to ask Kaeya for help if you need. The clock has struck midnight an hour ago yet Kaeya has been sitting in the same seat when he first turned up late in the evening, his eyes moving along with you as you work. If only Lord Diluc knew what Kaeya has been up to behind his back, then he would not have informed his brother about his absence tonight.
Taking off your apron as you turn around you are met by a drunk Kaeya up close, standing inches away from your body. “Darling, why are you in such a hurry?” He chins up your face to meet your gaze. “You weren't in such haste while working though. . .” As he trails he takes a sip from the wine bottle before inclining towards you.
“Lord Kaeya please, not here.” you whine but all he does is to pout, squeeze your cheeks. It is not like he has not fucked you before. He did. Multiple times in multiple positions. Sometimes those memories ravage through your mind whenever he shows up during work, gets you worked up; your hopes too and then leaves. He keeps the bottle on the slab behind you and slips his hand under your skirt.
As he pushes aside your panty, his squeeze onto your cheeks becomes stronger forcing your mouth open. “Lord Kaeya,mmm-mgh”
He lets a drop of spit mixed with wine drop into your mouth, eyes never leaving your before finally sucking your lips. A little wine spills through the corner of your mouth as his arms rests against the slab caging you in but it does not stay there much longer. You grab onto his collar returning the favour, tongue dancing against eachother as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks. You can feel yourself getting wet, nipples getting taut and tight, Kaeya’s lips has moved onto your neckline to your chest. He tears off your blouse spilling your breasts in the air. You quickly sit on the slab wrapping your arms around his neck but he continues teasing you by kissing over your neck, chest and around the nipples; and suddenly a chime freezes your heart.
A customer. Lord Diluc did mention a special guest would turn up after midnight which why you were being a dilly dally while working. A cresent blossoms over Kaeya’s face. His crotch is pressed against your feminity while you cling onto him out of shame, out of concern for being seen. He has not moved an inch since the customer stepped in
“we're already closed but I think we can offer special services.” He takes the bottle of wine and pours it over chest. “What do you think, Dainsleif?”
The customer approaches you slowly, one step at a time his eyes watch the crimson fluid stain your dress, drip down to your tummy. Kaeya licks off the wine from your chest, your cleavage still remains stained with red. The customer wipes off some of the wine running his index finger from your tummy up to your cleavage.
Lord Dainsleif is not an old customer of the master of Dawn Winery but he is a new customer to you. If anything you two shared was some accidental glances in past and now you two are going to share same air. The thought makes you welp.
“Not bad,” Dainsleif exclaims tasting the wine from his index-fingertip. His legs fold, knees touch the ground as Kaeya holds up your skirt for him. You still do not move, neither bother yo cover yourself up, but only look at Kaeya. “Tsk, focus.” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and suckling hard enough make you bite your bottom lip as Dainsleif licks your pussy clean of wine.
Kaeya holds your hand, fingers interlaced as he watched Dainsleif eat you out. “C’mon darling, spread your legs. It would be rude to not to offer Mondstat hospitality to our guest, hmmm, don't you think?” Kaeya exclaims watching your eyes begging more of him as Dainsleif gets himself drunk on you. The night feels incredibly warm despite cold gusts of winter striking the city. The moonlight vanishes as the cluster of clouds shrouds the moon, enveloping g the stars; even such natural harbinger of time can not seem to bear such obscenity.
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hannya-writes · 1 year
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Luffy/Zoro calling you their Wife.
I had to write this idea with these two. I enjoy it way too much, hehe. Anyways, let's start!
Luffy
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"Y/n is my wife" Luffy said those 4 words only to get rid of Boa.
The former shichibukai had been pestering him about marriage for the nth time in the last few days.
He was done, he didn't want to hear the word marriage ever again but the empress couldn't get it in her head.
You on the other hand had gone there to talk with your captain about the tiny details he hated to solve.
You have managed everything around the ship since more than a decade ago. If someone needed something they went to you.
And you reported everything to Luffy even when he wasn't paying attention. He trusted you. You were basically his vice Captain, even in battles.
You had once been a captain of your own ship before joining the straw hats. You knew how to do the work, so you just did it.
"What?" Boa looked at Luffy with a mix of horror and pain.
"Luffy!" You were going to admit that was a lie, that there was no way Luffy would ever marry.
But Luffy pleaded with his eyes. Luffy was almost 30 but was able to pull such cute puppy eyes on you that you had to fight the instinct of hitting him in the back of the head.
"Y/n?" Boa asked sadly and Luffy pointed at you, right behind her.
She turned to look at you with disdain and then her furious eyes suddenly showed panic.
Boa knew who you were, well most people knew about you. The Dragon of the West, you had helped Luffy all those years ago to become the pirate King. If the yonkos still existed you would be at that level.
"You promised you would tell anyone!" You sighed getting closer to Luffy passing by the side of a contrite Boa, only to pull Luffy at your level to kiss him.
Luffy didn't back off, he took you by the waist and welcomed the kiss. He pressed you against his body and deepened the kiss.
Your relationship with Luffy was casual, sometimes you had sex, sometimes you cuddled and sometimes you were just friends.
There were feelings involved, of course! But you didn't put on labels, you were pirates for gods sake! You loved freedom!
"Excuse me" Boa said in a tiny embarrassed voice and left in a hurry.
You pushed back to break the kiss but Luffy didn't back away, staying way too close to you.
"Come on" Luffy said before carrying you in his arms in bridal style "you got marriage duties in my room"
"Put me down Luffy I just came to bring you a report" you told him looking away from him.
"Forget about it, we gotta consummate our marriage" he joked and you laughed.
Zoro
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"Oi, that's my wife" Zoro didn't say it to brag, he wasn't angry, it wasn't a menace. It was just a piece of information that Chopper told him to say if men started to bother you too much.
Some of the Mugiwara crew were out on the island you had stopped by. Sanji was hunting ingredients, Nami was looking at clothes and you decided to stay close to Zoro as you both went for Sake.
"I'm flattered, but I'm not interested. '' You told the guy who flirted with you but he didn’t give a shit what you said because he started following you around like a lost dog.
Sanji had asked you if you wanted him to kick the man away, but you, being the sweetheart you were, told him not to bother and so, he sighed and went his own way.
Zoro on the other hand, He didn’t ask. He said those words hoping the dude would stop and walk away.
Your relationship with Zoro was excellent, there was a thing going on between you two but it was a secret. You didn’t wanted Sanji bothering Zoro or Nami asking you about why and how that had happened. You were not embarrassed of being Zoro’s couple. It just was impractical.
And you two were too practical to make things complicated.
Sanji froze in place at the hearing of the Marimo's words, then he whipped his head in your direction for confirmation even when he was at least 100 meters away.
“Wife? a beauty like you is with that… animal?” the man asked and you frowned, they could say whatever they wanted about you but no one messed with your friends and especially not with your lover.
“Well the “animal" as you call it, is the best swordsman in the world" you said stopping to look at the man in annoyance "He unlike you knows that when I said "I'm not interested" I meant fuck off" you told the asshole but he made heart eyes at you.
"You look beautiful even when you are mad" he whispered and you felt a vein pop in your temple. "I'll give you anything you want, just give me a chance sweetheart, I'll buy the most expensive jewels, the best dinner in town… I'll make you forget about him"
"Okey, that's enough" Zoro muttered to himself as he unsheathed one of his swords to point at the man. "You can't buy her, she's mine" that time he was angry, he moved the sword slightly and made a scratch in the man's shoulder
The man shrieked in pain and you looked at Zoro with a smirk.
"fucking Pirate, I'll call the marines, then you…"
"The marines can't help you, you messed with my wife, I'll take care of you…" Zoro was ready to kill.
"She's not even that pretty" the man said afraid "she's just a pirate's whore"
With a big smile you stopped Zoro by putting a hand in his chest, his eye met yours and he put the sword down, giving the man the perfect moment to escape.
Only for you to throw him a needle to the neck, making him fall in his face, paralyzed.
He tsked at you and sheathed his sword.
"Fucking scumb" he muttered, still angry.
"It's ok, I don't care" You answered and he looked down at your lips. Your hand was still over his chest.
"I do, no one talk like that to..." He doubted, he didn't know how to label you
"your wife?" He blushed at your words and looked away
"Yeah" he answered, pulling you closer by the waist.
"Thank you, dear husband but let's not make an scene" you were about to kiss when…
"So you two are together, uh?" Nami said, appearing from nowhere, making both of you freeze on the spot.
Zoro blushed even more and so did you.
"Fuck" Zoro said in a whisper and you cursed too.
Sanji appeared running, cursing Zoro for his words and the fact that you two were together.
You giggled and Sanji attacked Zoro for being such a "lucky bastard" for getting you.
Of course your smile vanished when Nami asked about the wedding and how come she wasn't invited.
You two have made a big mistake.
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andypantsx3 · 4 months
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part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!
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the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.
where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.
particularly a human man who looked like shouto.
shouto did not appreciate the distinction.
"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.
you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.
your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.
it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.
so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.
"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.
"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.
you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.
your face heated. he was very beautiful.
"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.
you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.
you knew there was already talk.
"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.
"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."
shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."
something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.
"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."
a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.
"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.
the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.
you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."
his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."
your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...
"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"
a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.
"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.
your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.
a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."
the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.
"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."
words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.
"ah, shouto—" you managed.
shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.
"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."
another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.
"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."
his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.
you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.
"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"
a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."
a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.
"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.
the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.
your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.
"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.
he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.
shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.
"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."
he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.
he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.
feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."
a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.
in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.
the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.
you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.
"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.
between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.
your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.
he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.
in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.
"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."
you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.
shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.
"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.
"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.
"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."
shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."
you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."
"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."
your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.
"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.
but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.
you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.
you were his, and he was yours. always.
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zhongrin · 10 months
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“honey, can you… get us a pet?”
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, tighnari, kaveh, pantalone, cyno
◇ tags ◇ fluff, crack, dragon!li
◇ a/n ◇ all i want in life is a zhongli and a al haitham with their chosen pets is that really too much to ask
𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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zhongli, predictably, brings back a dog. before you ask, it’s a very normal dog that isn’t the size of a mountain and is unable to control the elements. it’s a common house pet, a sign of luck and auspiciousness, plus he’s a very good boy!
………. just. don’t coddle rex jr. too much, okay? rex sr. is still a half-dragon after all.
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al haitham brings back a pot of some rare plant he got at the grand bazaar... what? plants are pets too. an even better version, he argues, especially since this particular one should bear small edible fruits when they grow enough. plus, they’re quiet and will let him read in peace.
hey, it’s your fault for never specifying what kind of pet you wanted him to get.
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childe brings back an otter. where did he get it? no one knows. don’t ask. where will he put it? uhhh. no worries, he’ll put the otter in your bathtub for now, but he’ll commission someone to dig up a pool for them to float around! it’ll be fineeee!
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tighnari sits you down and lectures you about the responsibilities of a pet owner for two straight hours to make sure you truly understand what you’re asking of him first. adopting a pet is a huge step in your life and he wants to make sure you fully understand what you’re getting into.
plus, you might want to take into consideration that your fox hybrid lover inherits that territorial behavior from his ancestors…?
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kaveh jumps at the opportunity. to him, that’s like you’re giving him the green light on bringing animals home. a mistake on your part, honestly.
it’s day three and you’re now housing: an unexpectedly tame dendro slime with a withered flower on its head, two very weakened and starving desert foxes, one forest fox with one eye, and a little bird with a broken wing.
good luck.
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pantalone merely chuckles yet the very next day you find the most elegant, purebred siberian forest cat delivered straight to your lavish shared abode’s doorstep. she’s groomed to perfection, well-trained, and a joy to be around.
the most beautiful cat for the most breathtaking person in his life - he thinks it’s very fitting.
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cyno unexpectedly brings back a rabbit; a snow-white furred darling with ruby-red eyes that fits on top of your palm. such an innocent-looking, wee little being has become a lethal weapon in cyno’s hand. whenever you deny him of something, you will now see two pairs of eerily similar-colored eyes looking up at you with wet bunny eyes.
darn it.
like father like son, you suppose.
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town
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blues824 · 1 year
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Diasomnia Wakes Reader Up From a Sleeping Curse
Gender-neutral reader, Hurt/comfort. Poll Winner.
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Malleus Draconia
When he saw his beloved Y/N lying in their bed, he could feel both sadness and anger bubbling up in him. Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade had made a mistake in Potionology, and you were still paying the consequences of their own actions. The dragon fae gently took off his gloves and placed his hand delicately on your cheek, flinching at how cold your skin was.
If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were dead. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Your name and death did not belong in the same sentence, let alone together at all. No, you were merely asleep, and of that he was glad.
He knew the cure for the curse, and he was a bit happy that he knew of your feelings for him, but that didn’t particularly mean he was your true love. The fact that you two were courting didn’t mean anything in matters like this. However, there was no harm in trying to wake you up. So, the Crowned Prince of Briar Valley held your face gently as he leaned forward.
His lips gently brushed up against yours, staying there for a few seconds. He pulled back, and upon seeing that you hadn’t moved, his heart became very heavy. He turned away and started pulling his gloves on, when…
“Tsunotarou?”
Malleus had never turned around so quickly as he rushed back to your bedside. He helped you sit up, and his chest was pounding as you looked into his eyes. You reached your hand out and held the side of his face, and the fae prince moved his face to press a kiss to your palm. Oh, he had never been so relieved.
He quickly leaned forward and placed another kiss upon your lips, and he was so glad to feel you reciprocate the affection. The Diasomnia crew was waiting in the living room, and they all stood up when they saw their leader carrying you in a bridal carry, silently announcing that you were alright.
Don’t get him mistaken, though. He is definitely going to bring pain and suffering to Ace and Deuce for inflicting such a curse upon his beloved. If he could, they would probably be burnt to a crisp. But, he will inform the Headmage so that the troublesome duo can be punished properly.
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Lilia Vanrouge
He was very amused to hear that his Y/N was put under a sleeping curse by the ADeuce duo. Oh, you could never stay away from those two, and it always led to you getting in trouble. No matter, as he loves playing the part of your knight in shining armor. However, as he gazed upon your sleeping figure, a grim atmosphere took place.
Your skin was cold to the touch, very unnatural for someone as lively as you usually were. It was a chill that he had known before, one that not even the coldest of winters could compare to. The freeze of death. It brought him only a little comfort to know that you were just asleep, a mock of death.
The two idiots who had put you under the curse had informed him of the cure, not that he needed it anyways because he already knew. What he didn’t know was if he was your true love, since he was certain that you were his. Lilia brushed some hair out of your face as he leaned forward.
As he held your face, he tried to feel if you went warm. However, when he pulled away from the kiss, there was no change. The fae’s heart was broken, and he worried that you would never wake up. As he walked to the door, he heard something.
“Darling?”
Mans just about ran back to your side, pressing kisses all over your face. Your skin had become warm, and the light in your eyes was back (albeit a bit dimmed). You took a bit of time to admire his mature form, as he didn’t have the energy to go back to the younger version of himself. His long hair was beautiful, and you ran your hand through it.
He urged you to stay in bed to recover some of your strength as he went down to the rest of the Diasomnia quartet to inform them that you were alright. Silver was glad that his ‘other parent’ (not official… yet) was alright, and even Sebek was relieved. Malleus was glad to hear that you would be recovering soon.
Oh, but what you or anyone else did not know was that as they were leaving you and Lilia behind at Ramshackle, the other three were going to fight Ace and Deuce in the most disrespectful way possible. I hope the boys like dirt, because they’re gonna be eating it soon.
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Silver
He was just in a complete state of shock when Sebek informed him that Ace and Deuce had accidentally put you under a sleeping curse. As his fellow knight, the half-fae felt obligated to be the one to share the news. He promised to cover the young Vanrouge’s guard shift as he went to go see you and help with the cure.
The moment he entered your bedroom, he could feel the atmosphere was completely off. Where was your voice? Where was his hug as he entered the door? He placed the back of his hand upon your forehead, only to retract his arm after discovering you were cold. 
One thing that Sebek made sure not to forget to tell Silver was that the only thing that could get you to wake up was a kiss of true love, and that scared him. One’s True Love is similar to a soulmate; one’s heart could not beat without the other. How was anyone sure that he was your true love?
Silver placed a gentle but fleeting kiss upon your lips, quickly pulling back to see if your eyes had opened, but nothing changed. The knight let two tears fall as he got up to leave. The moment where he placed his hand on the door handle, he heard you gasp.
“Love?” 
Oh, the sweet sound of your voice was the one that he needed to hear at that moment. He was immediately back at your side as he grabbed your hand in his to place a kiss on your knuckle. Upon touching you, you were warm. He could physically feel his heart beating again in pure relief that 1) he was your confirmed true love and 2) you would be okay.
Unfortunately, all of this really took a lot out of him, so he laid next to you in the bed and held you close. This caused you to laugh, brushing some hair out of his face as you cuddled into him and placed a kiss on his lips this time.
You made sure to text Lilia that you were okay and awake, and that Silver was exhausted, so he would be staying at Ramshackle overnight. He finally looked at peace in his sleep, and you quickly took a picture as a keepsake. However, you weren’t going back to sleep yet. You just woke up, after all.
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Sebek Zigvolt
He was in the Potionology class where you were put under the curse, and he was the one who lifted you up in a bridal carry and brought you back to Ramshackle so that you would be comfortable. The two imbeciles who caused this told him in the living room of the run-down dorm that the only known curse was a kiss of true love.
This caused a million thoughts to run through the half-fae’s head as he gazed upon your sleeping figure. Sure, the two of you were courting, but that didn’t mean he was your true love. He knew that you were his, because he placed you above Malleus in importance. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.
Sebek took his glove off as he walked over to your bed side. He grabbed the side of your face, and he didn’t like how cold you were. He took a deep breath, before committing. He leaned towards your face to place his lips onto yours. A stray tear he didn’t know was coming fell upon your cheek, making it look like it was you who was crying. 
He felt as though you had every right. For everything you suffered through at the hands of Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Crowley, along with everyone else, he honestly wishes you would cry. Especially now, as there was no sign of you waking up. All his hope vanished as he got up to leave, when he heard you shift around in your bed.
“Sebek?”
The knight turned around to see that your eyes were open and looking at him as you tried to sit up. He rushed over to assist you, relieved that you were awake and alright. However, this made him realize something: he was your true love. He quickly placed a kiss upon your forehead, relishing in the warmth finally emitting from your skin.
As he helped you out of bed and with walking (a curse could leave you disoriented) downstairs, he made sure that at the bottom he gave the two idiots a piece of his mind. How dare they be so incompetent and not even apologize for making you go through that?
If you were being honest, the utmost care that the usually brash First Year was showing you as he gently sat you down at a nearby chair so that he could continue the argument made your heart melt. He was genuinely worried about you, and it definitely showed. You would think you were made of glass, but you were aware that it was his way of conveying his love for you.
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cbini · 7 months
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make your move, set me free
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pairing: lee minho x afab!reader
warnings: smut🔞!!!!!!!!, monster in the closet!minho, childhood friends to lovers but with a twist!, time jumps, like .2 seconds of mentioned jealousy, light angst, masturbation (f), voyeurism, unprotected sex, minho’s ribbed monster dick, horn sucking (???? you’ll know when u get there), horn rubbing (again, ???), monster creampie!
note: here he is! sorry it took so long, but life has been kicking my ass lately lmao. if this is bad….. just shhhh for my well-being. anyways, i do hope you enjoy!!! also just as an fyi… minho’s dick is shaped like the bad dragon sleipnir :-) also also let it also be known that idk what the hell he is like he’s just a thing i just made up shit really
the first time you met lee minho, you were six years old.
met is a strong word, considering the fact that you were laid shivering and scared in your bed at three in the morning. you always slept through the night, but recently you’d been continuously woken up at odd hours due to the noises coming from your closet.
it started with the creak of your closet door. you opened your eyes and rolled onto your back to reach for your teddy bear that you must have lost during the night. it wasn’t until you were about to fall back to sleep that you heard what must have woken you up in the first place. your head perked up from your pillow at the sound of your closet door slowly creaking open. you stopped breathing, gripping your teddy bear close to your chest as your heart pounds.
you don’t hear the noise again for a few minutes. maybe it was just the air conditioner? sometimes it makes weird noises, and your mom always complains about it. your head settles back onto the pillow when you hear it again, this time, with a whispered call of your name.
you can’t help but gasp, chest heating up as your heart pounds faster. you sit up in your bed before you can stop yourself, staring directly at your half opened closet. why did your parents have to put your bed right there? directly in front of the closet. your mom always makes sure the door is shut before she leaves your room to go to bed; you definitely didn’t open it, but somehow the pitch black interior of the closet is looking right back at you.
your eyes are adjusting to the dark now. the nightlight in the corner helps you to see, but it doesn’t provide enough light for you to see inside the closet. you can’t make out the shape of your clothes or shoes… you can’t see anything.
until you see red.
glowing red. two bright red eyes turn themselves into three and make themselves known to you, and that’s all it takes for you to scream.
“m-mommy!” you shriek, pulling the covers over your head and hiding your face against the plush of your teddy bear. you stay hidden until the light clicks on, and you feel your mother’s warm arms wrap around you. you slowly lift your head from under the blankets and look up at her with teary eyes. she coos and wipes your tears, soothing down your wild hair.
“what’s wrong, sweetheart? did you have a bad dream?”
“mommy, shhh,” you bring a finger to your lips to quiet her. “there’s- there’s a monster in- in there. in my closet,” you whisper, pointing a finger conspiratorially at your now closed closet door. did your mom close the closet door when she came in?
“is there?” she asks back. you nod. “i know just what to do. can you be brave and wait here while i go get something?” you really don’t know, but your parents’ room is right down the hall. you finally nod your head again, and your mom plants a kiss to your hair before she scurries out of the room. your eyes stay locked on the closet door until she comes back with a spray bottle in her hand. she sits down beside you on your bed.
“i’ve been hoping i wouldn’t have to use this,” she sighs, showing you the bottle. “here, it’s monster spray. i got it from the store a couple weeks ago just in case. see! it,” she turns the bottle around to read from the back, “‘repels monsters, ghosts, goblins, and other scary creatures away in one use!’”
huh, that might be able to work. she stands up from the bed and makes her way to the closet.
“be careful mommy,” you whisper, gripping the blanket tighter in your hand. she takes a deep breath and cracks open the door, immediately shoving her hand inside to spray around. once she’s done, she shuts the door again.
“it says we have to give it ten seconds to activate. can you count for me?” you start counting as soon as she asks, going up to twenty for good measure. “that should definitely work. okay, sit back. let mommy check.”
your mom once again opens the closet door, this time fully, and she gasps. you gasp in response. there’s nothing in there; that must mean the spray worked! she moves your clothes this way and that, double checking to make sure it’s safe.
“i don’t see anything in there, do you?” she asks. you shake your head. whatever that was, it’s gone. your closet is back to normal. all you see are your clothes and shoes plus a couple of your winter clothes on the top shelf.
“you killed it! it really worked!” you cry, climbing out of bed to hug your mom tight. “can i- can i sleep in your room tonight? in case it comes back…”
“of course you can, sweetie, but here.” she hands you the spray. monster masher. “you keep this in here, okay? so the next time you see a monster, you know what to do. you can always call me for backup if you need.”
the next night, you’re still scared. it happens just like it did the night before, but this time you have the trusty monster masher on your nightstand. you hear the closet creak open and hold your breath, making up your mind that you’re not going to call for your mom this time. you’re big; you can do this. at the first whisper of your name is when you decide to slowly reach for the bottle, hoping that whatever is in your closet won’t see you.
you slowly slip from the bed, sticking close to the wall and tiptoeing to the closet. your hand is shaking where you grip onto the spray bottle. you’re sticking close to the door hoping that whatever is inside can’t see you from the side. you take a deep breath just like your mom did last time, steady your hand, and reach it into the mouth of the closet to spray as fast as you can.
you don’t want something to grab you and snatch you inside, so you quickly pull your hand from the closet and shut the door, remembering the instructions your mom told you and counting to ten. fifteen for good measure.
the first thing you hear is sputtering from the inside. you run to your light switch and turn it on before opening the closet door, and what’s inside surprises you.
it’s a boy, knelt on the ground and scrubbing his tongue with the sleeve of his shirt. he’s no ordinary boy though, you can tell.
at first, you notice the light purple hue to his skin. his eyes are a deep black; there are three of them, and tiny horns sprout from the tip top of his head. he looks a little fuzzy too, and definitely not as scary as he did in the dark.
“ack!” the boy cries, still swiping at his tongue. “wha’ i’that?!” you spritz him again and he flails, slapping the bottle away from you. “hey, stop it! i’m not a bug.” he finally sits up straight and glares at you, and his eyes flare bright red.
you gasp at that, taking a step backwards and tripping over a toy you left on the floor in front of your bed. you land with an oof!, cradling your wrist after you land on it hard. the boy scoots out of the closet and points to your hand.
“are you- are you okay?”
“please don’t eat me!”
he glares at you again. “if i wanted to eat you i woulda already.”
and that is history.
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at sixteen, you’re still dealing with the monster in your closet. you’ve learned many things about him in the ten years he’s inhabited your space.
his name’s minho, he’s your age, and you’re his assigned human. that sounds stupid. you didn’t believe him at first, but he showed you the paperwork. where you go, minho will follow. his assignment to you is a serious one.
after those fateful nights all those years ago, you’ve surprisingly become quite good friends. you’ve had plenty of time to get to know each other. after all, he’s in your closet every night. he can come and go as he pleases and you can send him away, back to whatever monster realm he came from, but he always comes back. he’s gone to and from on his own free will, you’ve never had the urge or need to send him away.
one thing you’ve never been able to piece together though is what lee minho actually is. minho’s told you before that he doesn’t even really know himself. he’s more of a… thing. kind of like those mutt dogs, but he’s a monster instead. you’ve looked on all types of websites. blogs, forums, encyclopedia pages, but you could never find any answers to quell your curiosity. it’s okay though, however nosy you are doesn’t change the fact that one of your closest friends is a monster that halfway lives in your closet.
speaking of friends, one of yours inhabiting your room right now.
it’s not that minho’s jealous, he has other friends of his own. like changbin, a short and bulky zombie who clicks and chomps his teeth whenever he’s hungry and has a too-loud laugh. or chan, a werewolf with kind eyes and a tail that wags way too hard when he’s happy. you’re definitely not his only friend, but he doesn’t like when you have sleepovers with yours. and no, not just because you talk about your stupid crushes.
you’ve been sitting on your bed for the past hour, chitchatting about some wooyoung character that your friend thinks you’d look super cute with.
minho rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to thunk his head back against the wall of your closet. his horns have hit a growth spurt though recently, and he knows he’d put a hole in your wall by accident if he did. the final straw for minho is when you both lay down to sleep.
“would you go out with him if he asks you?” your friend questions, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you one last time before you both go to sleep. minho straightens up at that. he strains forward, as close to the closet door as he can get without bumping into it with his horns, and listens for your response.
“i- i mean, i dunno? maybe? i’d have to think about it, i guess,” you say. minho makes a face. his lip curls slightly in disgust, and the soft peach fuzz on his body bristles at your answer. that’s it, he’s heard enough. he’ll just have to wait until you fall asleep.
much to minho’s pleasure, it doesn’t take too much longer.
he starts his typical routine when he focuses and hears the evenness of your breath and your friend’s. it’s always a crack of the door. minho sits up on his knees and places one finger to the door, pushing it open slightly and reveling in the creak of the old wood. he knows you’ll wake up soon, he’s just not sure about your talkative and annoying friend. he gives the old door one more slow push, and it creaks again.
he’s a little disappointed in how used to him you’ve gotten because you barely even roll over at the noise of the closet door slowly opening. the same cannot be said for your friend, however. minho smirks as he hears her breathing catch in her throat and heart rate pick up. now that he knows she’s awake, minho’s about to enact the next step in his routine. come to think of it though, he doesn’t really remember her name.
instead of whispering her name in the dark like he usually would, he decides on the next best thing.
he whistles.
it’s a slow thing, starting out high pitched and ending on a lower tone, and minho has to try hard to keep from laughing when he sees her head whip to the closet.
still whistling that haunting little tune, minho creaks the closet door open once more and moves his head closer to the opening of it, finally allowing himself to let his eyes shine ruby-red. the rest of his body is hidden by the darkness of your room, but he knows that his eyes are visible.
minho hears your friend shake you awake and cover your mouth.
“oh my god, i think- someone’s in your fucking closet,” she whispers, head turning back to the closet and met with glowing red.
“oh jesus christ,” comes your muffled response. you fling the covers back and march over to your closet, hitting your light switch on the way there. you open the door and shove your clothes to the side, hangers screeching on their rack, dutifully smothering minho with your clothes and pushing him to the corner. he flails and his horns clatter against the wall.
“shit, haha- um! sorry, my boots fell. there’s- there’s nothing in here, see? look.” you move out of the way, showing your friend the inside of your closet. you shuffle through your clothes so that she can see the back. hidden by the wall, minho peaks around his face-full of clothes and stifles his laugh when he sees you do jazz hands at your friend. you catch sight of him and once again roughly shove your clothes back into his face and he flips you off.
“no, i swear. i swear i saw something glowing in there! and- and i heard whistling?”
“oh, i have a, um. jacket! a jacket… with sequins on it? you know what i mean? sometimes it catches the light from the window. and our air conditioning makes some really weird noises sometimes at night. yeah, um. sorry, no- uh, no whistling here!”
your friend laughs, slapping herself on the forehead. “you think i’m crazy, don’t you? maybe i should go home… i think i just- i might need to sleep in my bed tonight, you know?”
you sigh and shut your closet door so that you can sit beside her on the bed.
“definitely not crazy, i promise. here, let me help you get your stuff. i can walk you to your car too.”
you say goodbye, shutting the car door for her and telling her to text you when she makes it home. when you make it back to your room you stop in front of your door to collect yourself.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you whisper yell, opening the closet door and looking down at minho. “you can’t just-! you can’t just do that, minho!”
he pushes your clothes off of him, stands up, and rolls his eyes, getting up from his spot in the corner and rubbing one of his horns.
“that hurt, asshole. there’s a hole in your wall now by the way.” minho sits on your bed and looks at you expectantly. when you don’t sit beside him immediately he pats the bed beside him and raises his eyebrows. you huff and plop down next to him.
you’re both quiet until you decide to speak up.
“why’d you do that? you’ve never done that before. you can’t just- just go around scaring the shit out of everyone that comes to my house! what if she saw you? like really saw you?”
“she talked too much,” comes minho’s response. you make a face at that.
“she did not!” you retort, smacking him on the shoulder. he doesn’t even flinch.
“she did so! all she talked about was that- that wooyoung guy and it was annoying me,” minho grumbled. you raise your eyebrows and scoff, nodding your head.
“oh. oh i see.”
“oh what, you freak? see what?!”
“you’re jealous, minho! you didn’t want her talking about wooyoung because you’re jealous!”
“you were right earlier,” minho says, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “she’s not the crazy one. that’s you.”
minho laughs when you grip onto his horns and shake his head like a bobble head. he flashes his eyes back at you playfully.
“there’s nothing to be jealous of. you’re mine. i have the paperwork to prove it.”
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you didn’t think he would react this way.
the two of you have argued before, sure, you’re bound to have a few spats with someone cohabitating your space for ten plus years. it’s never felt as big as this though. this feels like more than an argument.
“i thought you’d be happy for me? we talked about how much i wanted this, minho. i can’t just stay here forever, why are you being like this?” you ask. you’re hurt. more hurt than you’ve been in a long time. minho saw firsthand how much effort you put into finding your first place to live on your own; he even kept you company and gave you his opinions on each apartment while you looked at their websites.
“that’s not- don’t put words in my mouth. of course i’m happy for you!” he doesn’t look happy though. “you worked so hard, and you deserve it. you deserve to finally have a place of your own. you know that’s what i think.”
“no i don’t know that, minho. i can’t know that if you don’t tell me. what’s wrong then? why are you so upset? you- you encouraged me to apply every time!”
“it’s just real now, it’s real. i don’t- did you ever think that i don’t want to go? i have to go with you. i have to follow you wherever you go, and i don’t have a choice!” the tips of his ears are turning a deep shade of purple and his eyes flicker from black to ruby. “i don’t get a fucking say in that! this may be your home, but it’s mine too, and i don’t want to leave.”
“then don’t. you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. i can’t- i can’t just stay here the rest of my life. i don’t want to, that’s not an option for me. i’m sorry minho, but i can’t.”
“you know that’s not how this works. i have to go with you, remember? i can’t stay here no matter how bad i want to! i’m tethered to you.”
“i can’t help that! i didn’t make the rules! it’s not my fault, and i’d fix it for you if i could!” you cry, sitting on your bed and putting your head in your hands. when you look at him again, your eyes are teary. “maybe you should go home, minho. your real home. i think i want to be alone now.” you can’t look at him when you say it.
minho opens his mouth and shuts it, nodding at the ground. by the time you look up again, he’s gone.
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it’s been about a month since you moved into your new place, and you’re half convinced you’re never going to see minho again. you haven’t seen him since you left your parents’ home; this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing him in years. you miss his presence, but you know how stubborn and hard-headed he can be. you both are. despite that, you know he’s hurt too.
what makes it even worse is that you two were never able to put a name on what you were to each other. it always felt like there was something more under the surface of your friendship. you both felt that way, and you knew that. despite his exterior and matching sarcasm, minho was always affectionate and kind with you. his stay in your closet might have originated with the sole purpose of scaring you every night, but that’s been a lost cause for nearly a decade now. he was quick to hold your hand and squish your cheeks and was even your first kiss in high school. he held you when you cried and went out of his way for you when it seemed like no one else would.
it was easy to fall for minho. he is easy to love and easy to want. his absence from your life is glaring.
getting your new apartment set up was a lonely affair. your parents and some friends helped move you in and get things settled, but your trinkets and clothes and pictures are up to you. hanging up the last of your summer and fall clothes was when it hit you that you’re really alone. no roommate, no parents, no closet monster.
however lonely you might be is coming in handy now. you haven’t gotten off this much in years. you haven’t been able to much with minho staying in your closet, but you’re diligently catching up on all you missed.
the buzz of your vibrator is muffled by the comforter you’re laying under, and you shiver as you cum for what feels like the hundredth time that night. you’re finally starting to sweat, so you throw the blanket off, baring yourself to the fairy lights and four walls of your new bedroom. you shudder weakly one last time, holding down the power button on your vibe and turning it off.
you know you’re not done yet, just taking a break.
as your body takes notice of the chill in the room, your nipples harden. your fingers tap at them for a moment, and in no time you’re ready to go again. the toy you were previously using finds its way back to your cunt, and you turn it on its lowest setting to work yourself up again. it’s easy to do, you’re just so sensitive.
“f-fuck, fuck! minho, i can’t- please,” you cry, head shaking back and forth. you can’t contain the noises coming from your mouth no matter how hard you try, and your hips buck and buck against your hand.
if you had any presence of mind you’d hear the tell-tale sound of your closet door creaking open over the buzzing of your toy; you’d see three ruby-red eyes peering at you from your sea of clothes.
your body wracks with tremors as you bring yourself to your climax once again. your vibrator is soaked, fingers sticky wet. your thighs and the sheets under you are faring no better. you place the vibrator on your thigh to rest and bring your fingers to your cunt to lightly rub at your clit.
“m-minho, my minho,” you mumble. your clit’s so swollen and slippery wet against your pruney fingers. now that your toy is turned off and you’ve calmed down, you’re able to hear the closet door. you’re not even ashamed, just needy, and you focus your gaze towards the door. you know it’s him.
“my jagi,” minho responds quietly from the doorway. his eyes are locked on your face rather than your bare body. it makes you smile.
you reach for him and he comes to you as always. minho climbs onto your bed and wraps you in his arms like you’re not stark naked and sweaty, like he doesn’t smell your arousal.
“you’re here,” you say, caressing his horns as he bucks them lightly against your forehead. “i didn’t- i didn’t think you’d come back.”
“you called for me. you said my name, silly. i’ll always come when you call.” minho nuzzles his nose against yours.
“missed you. i missed you so much, minho.” your arms wrap around him and he rocks you slowly from side to side. minho’s hand slides down to your hip to squeeze the warm, soft skin.
“i missed you, jagi. i was so bored!” he cries, dramatic. “i can see that you certainly found a way to occupy your time.” his eyes flick down to your chest and right back up to your eyes. you grab one of his horns and pull at it to make his head shake and he laughs.
“you be quiet! i’m just… making up for lost time, i guess.”
minho hums. he lowers his face so his nose is only a breath from yours. “i hate that i missed the show,” he whispers. you bite your lip and situate yourself in minho’s strong arms, turning over slightly so you’re on your back so you can slowly spread your legs for him. minho’s hand follows the movement of your thighs, and he grunts when his fingers finally touch the silky wetness that sticks to the inside of them.
“you- you didn’t miss it. i wasn’t done yet,” you breathe. you arch your hips towards him and he finally meets your lips with a kiss. your second kiss, this one much more intense than its predecessor. it heats up quickly, a clash of lips and teeth and tongue. minho’s tongue is longer than yours, a little rougher, but definitely not unwelcomed. his palm kneads at your thigh as his tongue flutters against yours. “touch me, touch me please, minho.”
“greedy thing. i am touching you, jagi.” he cocks his head and it makes you huff. before he can say anything else, you grab his hand and bring it to where you’re craving him. despite how brazen the action was, you’re still sensitive from your previous orgasms, and it makes you hiss. minho’s small fingers play with your cunt as if he’s done it countless times before. you’d laugh if it didn’t feel so damn good. minho knows you better than anyone; it’s not a surprise that he’d just get it from the beginning.
“ahh, shit,” minho mumbles into the sweaty skin of your neck. “so soft. ah, such a wet pussy. how many times did you cum before you called for me?” he rubs at your clit with the pads of his fingers for a moment before bringing them to his mouth to wet. at his first taste of you he grunts, quickly bringing his fingers back down to your cunt.
“u-um, three, maybe? i think? fuck, minho please. i need you to take your clothes off! why am i the only one naked?”
you know minho, you know he wants to tease, but he surprisingly wastes no time in shucking his shirt over his head and pulling his pants down his legs. he goes for his boxers but stops.
“look, it’s a little… ah, how do i say this? different? special?”
you laugh at that. “hello? fucking- special?! minho you have horns on your head and three eyes, i don’t think your dick is going to scare me.”
minho shrugs and laughs with you, finally dropping his boxers and showing you what’s underneath. you’re right, it’s not scary, but it’s not like anything you’ve taken before. it’s thick, ribs and ridges and layers galore with a bulbous head. you bite your lip, reaching out to touch him with gentle fingers. your hand wraps around him and he grunts, lightly thrusting into your fist. it’s already oozing steadily from the tip, making the slide easier for both of you.
“oh, minho, that’s going to feel so good in me,” you breathe. you know it will. minho climbs between your legs and spreads them wide, eyes focusing on where you’re ready and leaking for him. he scoots forward on his knees and grabs the base of his cock, guiding himself to the slit of your cunt. your arms twitch when you feel the texture of him for the first time as he slowly grinds on you; minho’s already got your eyes rolling and he just started.
“oh my god, that feels so f-fucking good. it’s s-so! ‘m s-still sensitive,” you whimper. the ridges on his thick cock rub against you just right. “you’ll make me cum again.”
“yeah? mm, i think i’d like that,” minho hums. he takes both of your ankles in his hands and spreads your legs wider, fucking his cock against the slit of your cunt. there’s barely any friction because you’re so wet. that’s lost to minho though, he doesn’t seem to mind at all, much too busy watching the way your puffy clit catches on the mushroom tip of his cock.
“don’t you want to fuck me? please, see, ‘m ready for you,” you say, bringing your fingers down to your cunt to spread yourself open for minho. “tight too. promise.”
“you promise?” he raises his eyebrows, and his gaze flicks up to your face. “you promise your little cunt’s tight for me?”
you nod your head.
“let me come find out then,” minho hums. he taps the head of his cock one last time against your clit and smirks when your body jolts under him. minho guides his cock to your hole, slowly rubbing the tip against it as a taste of what’s to come. your eyes roll as the thick head slips into your cunt.
“yesss, jagi. you’re so relaxed, that’s perfect. just open up for me, let me in, that’s right. oh, you feel so good around me,” minho breathes. his head hangs low and his arms shake slightly where they’re holding him up.
“b-big, ‘s big, minho, fuck,” you cry. your pussy makes a downright filthy noise as minho thrusts fully into you, and you cover your face with your hands. minho tuts.
“talking to me,” minho mutters, smirking. his hands are quick to tug yours away from your face, holding your wrists together on your stomach. “don’t hide from me, you look at me when i fuck you, hm? keep those pretty eyes right here on me.”
you nod quickly, willing to do almost anything for him at this point. you can’t stop touching him, the cool peach fuzz on his body feels so good against you. minho’s not much better. he can’t keep his hands still either, gliding up and down your body. gripping your thighs, squishing your tits together, holding your hands. he’s missed you.
before you know it, you’re clutching onto his horns while he fucks you into the mattress.
“minho, please! fuck, more. please give me more?”
“i’ll give you everything. you’ll have everything you could ever want,” minho grunts. he complies with your request, fucking you so that you’re almost being pushed up the bed. you really might be if it weren’t for the grip you have on his horns.
“gonna make me cum. g-gonna cum on your cock, minho.”
“yeah? baby, jagi. cum. cum for me now.”
it doesn’t take long with you so sensitive, and soon you’re cumming for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. it might as well be with the way your body is quivering in minho’s hold
“fuck, cumming just for me. pretty, pretty baby.” minho slows his movements, but you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer.
“keep going. fuck me ‘til you cum. i can take it, i’ll be good.” that’s all it takes for minho to gather himself again and work back up to his prior pace. his eyes flash red, and they quickly focus on your chest. your chest is bouncing with the force of his thrusts, and he can’t keep his mouth off of them any longer. minho leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking and teeth nibbling at the little bud.
your grip on his horns slackens for a moment as you throw your head back, but soon you find yourself pressing kisses to them while minho has his fun with you. before you know it, you’re sucking on one like you would his fingers or his tongue or his cock. the curved appendage glides perfectly into your mouth with minho’s head ducked, the slide easy thanks to your spit. you bob your head on it as best you can while on your back, and it has minho panting into the sweaty skin of your chest. one of your hands clutches his shoulder as the other rubs up and down his other horn, stimulating it while your mouth is occupied with its twin.
“i’m- fuck. no one’s ever- oh, jagi. i’m cumming, cumming in this little cunt, shiiiit.”
minho pulls back, and his horn slides from your mouth. you slurp as much of your spit back into your mouth as you can as minho takes hold of your cheeks so that he can see you face while he cums. he’s quiet, short gasps leaving his mouth and stomach caving as he pumps you full of his cum.
he slouches down on top of you when he’s finished and you kiss his head. soon your positions are switched, and minho lays on his back while you curl up beside him.
“you know we have to talk,” you whisper, kissing his chest. minho hums quietly in response and takes hold of your hand that’s resting gently on his stomach.
“tomorrow. we’ll talk tomorrow, hm? just lay here with me tonight.” he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.
you snort at that. “have you ever even slept in a bed before?”
“i’m about to,” minho laughs. he stretches his legs and wriggles down until his head is resting more comfortably on the pillow beneath him. “mm, i think i might like this better than the closet.”
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targaryen-dynasty · 4 months
Text
AND NOW I SEE DAYLIGHT.
Aemond Targaryen x niece!Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, loss of virginity, p in v, handjob (fem and m receiving), size kink, breeding kink, westerosi bedding ceremony, forced marriage, mentions of underage marriage (but no consummation), fluff, female reader (appearance is not mentioned)
WORDS: 5.2 K
NOTES: The timeline is altered a bit. The events of episode 8 take place later, like sixtish years or so. @ivvypg and @sapphirehearteyes thank you for your glorious request. I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to @arcieleefor betaing this bad boy. This is dedicated to my beloved @black-dread. Thanks for all the amazing icons, gifsets and headers and for always having my back. ILU.
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That one particular night at Driftmark haunted your every being ever since you and Silverwing flew home alongside Sunfyre, Tessarion, Dreamfyre and Vhagar the following morning. 
King Viserys had ordered your betrothal to his suddenly mutilated second son so abruptly, stating it was the least both parties could do to make amends, that not even your mother nor the queen had a chance to intervene. 
Everyone was aware of the large chasm between the members of House Targaryen, yet Viserys was blind to see that it could not be diminished anymore – especially not by the betrothal of you to your uncle. 
Not more than a sennight had passed until Aemond and you cited your vows, and the sea green cloak of House Velaryon that was draped over your shoulders was replaced by the same black cloak your mother had once worn at her wedding to your late father. And besides your husband's side of the family, with your grandsire removing your cloak, no one else was present. 
You had understood the threat of the situation like no other back then, and did not resent your mother’s absence, highly doubting that a raven even had left King’s Landing to inform your family on Dragonstone about the wedding being pushed forward. 
Ravens of Dragonstone, however, frequented your chambers on a weekly basis. 
Sometimes they were shoved into your hands as you were walking the hallways of Maegor’s Holdfast, and other times they were slid under the door to your martial chambers when Aemond was not present. 
Cryptid messages, and more often than not paragraphs written in High Valyrian, adorned the scrolls handed over to you by maids and knights alike you knew were loyal to no other than the heir to the Iron Throne and her uncle-husband. Neatly kept away from whom it could be a thorn in the side. 
The letters were your only solace in this lonely time – and did little to mend your homesickness. 
Until Aemond had stumbled into your shared chambers one night, his silver curls tousled and the little braid at the back of his head loose. He ashamedly had admitted that Aegon had taken him to the Street of Silk to ensure he was as educated as his older brother was in the prospect of you having to consummate your wedding at some point, his voice breaking more and more with each word he said. 
You had not understood the significance at first, but once it had settled, a lingering feeling of betrayal had spread throughout your bones. But there was no chance for it to linger any longer than a sennight, because that incident had seemed to bring your husband closer to you than he had been all the years you two spent together in the Red Keep. Two broken and lonely souls drawn to each other, searching for the comfort they had longed for for so long. 
He sought out your presence more often than before, adamant to join you during your lessons and whenever you and your dragon ascended into the sky. Your presence during his training with the sword was greatly valued by him, something he had not bothered to acknowledge before.
You were hesitant to reciprocate his gestures and subtle affection at first, however, it overtook you in an ambush – and he was just as surprised as you were to learn that you were falling for him. 
But regardless of how many hours you had spent together, how many kisses you had shared in secret, one mystery remained. 
The black patch of leather concealing part of his chiseled features and what lay beneath. 
Aemond rarely showed his vulnerability, even after being married for a few years already, and his missing eye was his biggest weakness. You did not push him, but regardless of how often you had told yourself you did not care about it, a part of you craved to see what was hidden, just as he craved your touch whenever you retired for bed. 
Knowing your patience would bear fruit at some point, no matter how long it took, you just waited to finally be rewarded. 
And there you stood now. Surrounded by a group of no less than five men. 
Seven days of festivities and feasts lay behind you, tiring you to a certain degree. They were celebrating the night your husband was finally meant to claim your virtue, making your marriage fully legitimate. 
And of course it was none other than your drunken uncle whose gruff voice had silenced the chatter of your guests, followed by a clap of his hands as if he had seen the servants bring another tankard full of the finest wine the capital had to offer. 
“I believe ‘tis time for the bedding!” 
It was not the thought of bedding Aemond, his promise of him not hurting you lingering in the back of your mind. It was the men crowding you, ready to tug and tear on the white gown queen Alicent had commissioned to be made for this occasion. For the official celebration of your wedding. 
The bedding ceremony was a tradition particularly valued in other parts of the realm, however, with House Targaryen – or Hightower – in dire need of some more loyal allies, they had opted to follow along to those traditions. And, with Aemond being the ever dutiful son, he of course did as his grandsire and mother bid. 
There was a loud cheer in the hall that quietened with Aemond eventually speaking. “Very well,” he said, a much smaller group of women surrounding him already. “But if any man offends my wife in word or deed, I shall have his head and feed him to Vhagar.” 
No one dared to mess with the rider of the biggest dragon alive, had not before and most certainly not now. So it was that, when you were swept off of your feet, the men did not tug on your gown as hungrily as they had looked at you before. 
You had no chance watching how Aemond was led to your martial chambers after you, the gaggle carrying you disappearing so quickly, as if they had to be somewhere else not long after. And once your bare feet were set on the cold ground, the men hurried around you to undo your dress, loosening the bodice and leaving you clad in nothing else than your smallclothes with the white dress pooling around your ankles. 
The giggling of women grew in volume, catching your attention and forcing you to look past the group of men to the door, watching your husband enter. A sullen look overcame your features as you spotted Aemond with the buttons of his embroidered tunic opened, more so as your eyes flickered to the three undone laces in the front of his breeches. The women stopped outside of the door while he entered, and it seemed that his venture to the Street of Silk years ago had affected you more than you thought.
Aemond’s sharp eye, the purple striking even more with the patch of black leather next to it, cut through the group of men to find yours, moving slowly as he took you in. Where the chill air of your chambers had caused goosebumps to prickle on your skin before, they now were replaced by a feeling of liquid fire running through your veins. 
There was a longing in you, suppressed by nervousness. 
Ever since your first flowering, not long before you turned ten-and-four, there were little to no nights you found sleep without thoroughly exploring each other's bodies – but not once going far enough for him to take your maidenhead. 
Aemond had told you that his mother had requested for you to preserve your maidenhood until the bedding ceremony, stating she would want you to avoid the death in childbirth the maesters at the citadel had recorded for very young mothers. Though you and him both knew she just did not like the thought of you losing your maidenhead and him possibly putting a child in you without the official ceremony of the second wedding, with more witnesses. You chose to follow her orders - to a certain degree at least. 
He stalked towards you slowly, and there must have been something in the way his eye had darkened, because without another word, the men around you disappeared from your marital chambers, the doors falling shut behind Aemond. Coming closer, you were forced to tilt your head up to keep your eyes locked with his, his tall frame looming over yours. “They might listen at the door if they wish, but none will watch,” Aemond purred, voice cutting through the silence and sending a shiver down your spine. 
Shifting your weight from one foot to the other under the intensity of his gaze, you reached to pinch the thick, embroidered hem of his tunic with your fingers, rubbing it between them. When your eyes trailed from his down to your fingers, you briefly spotted his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, matching your own. 
“Take-Take it off,” you stammered, barely hearing yourself with the feeling of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. As he did not move straight away, your wide eyes locked with his good one again, before he eventually pushed the tunic off his shoulders, joining your gown in a puddle on the floor. 
You had seen him bare before, but this time was different. It felt more intimate, more vulnerable, given what was to be expected of the two of you. 
Sparse, silver hairs adorned the expanse of his chest, and raking your fingers through them had never seemed so inviting. You could not admire the whispy trail that pursued from his navel down to disappear below the waistband of his breeches, because Aemond placed the tip of his finger under your chin to not only close your slightly opened mouth but to bring your focus back on him, forcing your head up for you to look at him. 
“Are you enjoying the view, wife?” The term of endearment in combination with his demanding touch flushed your cheeks with desire, and caused your words to die on your tongue. 
Glancing around the room to escape his heated gaze and regain your composure, you nodded your head, a sheepish smile on your lips. “I love you,” you whispered. And then, his lips captured yours with such ferocity, it enticed you with the promise of more and made you aware that he felt the same, even if he did not voice it. 
Wandering hands grasped every part of your body they could reach, settling on your waist, while yours seized his shoulders for leverage, fingers dancing along the sides of his neck. You pressed your body against his, the heat emanating from him pleasant and comforting. 
Your mouths hardly parted as his tongue dragged over your kiss-swollen lips just in time with you squeezing your thighs together, eliciting a shaky moan to slip past your lips. His fingers had started to undo the ties of your smallclothes, their movements stuttering at the sound. Aemond pinched the fabric between his fingers, stopping it from falling from your body just yet as his tongue persistently pushed past your lips again, claiming them with newfound vigor. 
When he pulled back, you kept your eyes shut just a moment longer before your half-lidded eyes met his, one shaky breath after the other fanning into the chill air. You tried to chase his lips, but when his hand came up to grab your chin, your smallclothes dropped to the ground. The reassuring squeeze of his other hand on your waist did little to stop you from shivering, the cold hitting your heated skin and the wetness between your legs.  
You gasped as his hand came up to grope your breast, watching in awe as Aemond bowed forwards to wrap his lips around your nipple, nibbling and suckling on it. Shock widened your eyes, given that he had never done that before, yet you were desperate to keep his lips right there with your hands buried in the silver strands of his hair. 
His fingers danced across the curve of your waist down to your arse, groping your flesh and holding you in place, if not even drawing you closer towards him than you already were. You writhed and panted in his grasp, keeping your eyes locked on his face as he licked over the curve of your breast, tongue swirling around your hardened bud. 
“Stop teasing me,” you whimpered, inhaling sharply as a tug on Aemond’s silver tresses caused him to groan against your sweaty skin. Pulling back, he smirked up at you in a manner that gave away he felt flattered to have your undivided attention, the purple of his eye almost completely eclipsed by black. 
Rising back to his full height, he mused, “I have only just begun.” Bringing his hand to your cheek, he nuzzled his nose along the side of your face, inhaling your scent. Your head tilted in the opposite direction to grant him even more access, allowing him to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear. 
“Why don’t you stop tempting me with those sweet sounds you make?” he breathed against the spot behind your ear before turning you around, your back flush against his chest. The protruding bulge in the front of his breeches pressed against your arse, alluring enough to push back against him. But with his hand trailing from your waist down between your legs, that urge was forced into the back of your mind. 
You held onto his arm as two of his fingers parted your folds, dragging back and forth to generously coat them in your arousal. Tipping your head back against his shoulder, you turned it sideways slightly to nuzzle your nose against the side of his face. “My, my,” Aemond purred, “it seems as though someone is feeling frisky, mh?” You replied with a quiet whine that was elicited by his fingers circling around your little bud, prompting Aemond to scoff. 
“I have not even had the chance to show your cunt enough attention, and you are this wet for me already.” Heat crept onto your cheeks at his words, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to stifle a moan. 
Squeezing his arm to keep yourself grounded, you looked at him from over your shoulder with hooded eyes. “I can not help it, husband,” you whimpered, taking in a sharp breath as his fingers breached your tight cunt mid-sentence. “You–” taking in a deep breath, “you are just too tantalizing and make me want you so desperately… please.”
A hum rumbled in his chest at your words. “Patience,” he simply mused, continuing the ministrations of his fingers. The pleasure that soared through your body had you grinding your hips against his hand, chasing as much friction as possible. But before your peak could wash over you, his touch left your body, his arm pulled from your grasp to place the hand on your hip. 
Your mouth opened and closed without any words leaving your lips, slowly processing what had happened, and when it opened again, he was quick to cut you off. 
“On the bed.”
Moving too slow for his liking, he pushed you towards your marital bed, and you sat down at the edge of it, keeping your eyes fixed on him. 
Aemond stood not too far away from you, giving you the perfect view of his flushed chest and the large bulge of his confined member in the front of his breeches. Your breath hitched in your throat as his nimble fingers started to undo the last laces of them. He ridded himself of the dark fabric, kicking it aside as it pooled around his ankles to walk towards you. 
His member stood to full attention, a slight curve to it and the tip slightly flushed in the same color of his lips. It had you squeezing your thighs to suppress the aching between them that yearned to be soothed by him. By it. 
Before he was able to touch your chest to push you flat on the bed, you gripped his wrist, staring up at him with determination flickering in your eyes. “Everything,” you said, trying to not let the slight tremble in your voice become too audible. 
His one good eye widened in surprise, his brow raised. For several moments, Aemond remained silent, taking in your words and the request implicit in it. To you, it felt as if you had pushed your luck with him taking a tad too long, but the softening of his gaze betrayed the genuine interest he found in your proposal. 
He was half tempted to do what you requested just to surprise you, to gawk at your expression at seeing what he had hidden beneath the leather all this time. Would it be worth taking the risk of scaring you for the rest of your lives?
There was a flush creeping onto his cheeks, you spotted it even in the dim light the candles granted, it was there. His stiff posture coaxed you to get back onto your feet, standing in front of him. 
The proximity and the softness and reassurance of your gaze made it difficult for him to deny you, yet you knew you mayhaps had asked too much of him. “Issa sȳz,” you whispered, cupping his face. “Gaomā daor emagon naejot urnēptre nyke.” It is fine. You do not have to show me. 
You were not sure what you were expecting of him, but certainly not his next words. “Jaelā naejot ūndegon ziry?” You want to see it?
Raising a brow, you pressed your lips into a thin line while the corners pulled into a slight smile. “Kesan daor henujagon, nyke kivio.” Aemond’s eye widened again, but this time with something indefinable flickering in it. I will not leave, I promise. 
Reluctantly, his hand came up to cup yours, inching it closer towards the eyepatch. Your eyes flickered between them and his good one, the slight bow of his head giving you the reassurance you needed to continue. Carefully undoing the clasp at the back of his head, you removed the patch of leather. 
With it slowly lowering, Aemond took in a deep breath and closed his eye as if he meant to brace himself for your impending rejection - yet it never came. There was silence, yes, but he could not hear any sounds of disgust or shock, and he was not sure if he liked that. 
Opening his eye, Aemond was blessed by plain curiosity written all over your features. There was concern and interest alike etched into them as you inspected the glimmering sapphire, and suddenly it made sense why he had gifted you a necklace with the same gemstone the day you turned ten-and-four.
His mood seemed to thaw, and his lips twisted into a smile the moment he spotted one of your hands reaching for the delicate pendant hanging around your neck, rubbing it between your fingers and seemingly noticing that you had been linked to one another all those years. 
Staring at him, not the precious gemstone in the socket of his eye, you captured his lips in a kiss that had him grunting once, his arms wrapping around your body. A haze of desire and want clouded your mind, as this kiss turned into all teeth and tongue. 
Aemond slowly herded you against the bed, toppling over onto the mattress the moment your calves hit the edge and caused you to lose your balance. 
The kiss, however, did not break. With your hands still on his jaw, he shifted onto his side, barely parting your mouths and allowing you to crawl further onto the bed while his lips chased yours hungrily. 
Aemond moved to tower over you and ran his hand along the outside of your leg, traveling from your ankle up to the curve of your hip. As you tried to sit up, he squeezed your flesh harshly enough to have a giggle die on your tongue, and pulled you towards him, the force of it sending your head back into the pillows. You squealed in surprise and stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes, the desire in your veins reigniting. 
Your lips parted into the perfect ‘o’-shape the moment Aemond’s finger slid in you, a sight that almost had him spilling his seed right then and there. “Gods,” you whimpered, your back arching against him as one of your hands grabbed his shoulder. 
Spurred on by your sounds and the sight of you unraveling beneath him, he inserted another digit. The way your cunt squeezed his fingers so tightly did not make it easier for him to hold back, the thoughts of it being replaced by his cock sooner or later clouding his mind. 
“That’s it,” Aemond purred, moving his fingers at a torturously slow pace, completely mesmerized as he watched your face contort in pleasure and your body react to his touch. But no amount of curiosity could fool you, knowing that he had not listened to you. 
“You are teasing me again,” you whined, and with your impatience getting the worst of you, you hooked both legs around his waist, using them to pull yourself closer towards what your body desired. Now it was Aemond looking at you with parted lips, his breathing coming out ragged. When you reached for his hard cock, straining against his lower belly, you saw the bump in his throat bob and felt his member twitch in your hand. 
The innocent in your eyes was gone, a sly smirk now draped across your lips. He raised a brow, but did not stop your hand from slowly dragging across it, tugging on him in the rhythm he had set. 
“Give me what I desire,” you panted, rolling your hips against his hand to race for completion. “Please.”
It was evident that with your hand on his cock that he was not able to form one coherent thought, and much to your disliking, he used the hand that previously was between your legs to seize your wrist, pinning your hand to your belly. 
“My love,” he rasped, raising his brows. “We have had many times to practice with our mouths and fingers, but this will be a new experience for you, and I want you to be thoroughly prepared for it.”
You nodded softly, understanding his concern, “we have waited for this night for so long. You have prepared me well, Aemond. Please, let me enjoy you… I am ready.” 
All was lost when you pushed your soaked mound against his cock, trapping it in between your bodies. Aemond drew in a sharp breath, and not having had him inside of you before, you were surprised at how different it already felt merely pressing against your swollen lips. The moan you released was wanton, pleasure and surprise both filling your veins.
His grip on your wrist tightened at that, and his eyes darkened in a way you had not seen before. It sent a shiver down your spine, your cunt clenching around nothing. 
Without a word, Aemond released your wrist and grabbed the base of his cock. Sitting back on his haunches, he lined his cock with your entrance but did not push inside. “Jaelā bisa?” he asked, a concerned edge to his voice that asked for your reassurance. You want this?
Hooded eyes gazed at him as you bowed your head slowly, your heavy breathing and hardened nipples showing just how much you wanted it. “Kessa.” Yes. 
A shuddered breath escaped him as he thrusted into you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Even if he wanted to go faster, your cunt was choking him so tight, there was no chance for him to do so without spending himself. He pushed inside at an agonizingly slow pace, every ridge and vein of him dragged along your walls. 
He had prepared you tonight, and he had prepared you all the nights before that, but it still felt entirely different to what you had expected, if not even painful. You winced, and on cue, your body went rigid. 
Aemond gripped your hip with such force it was meant to bruise in the following days, not making your discomfort any easier. “Gods, shit, I–” he grunted, taking in a deep breath and stilling his movements. He had yet to bottom out completely, but your ease was his priority. 
“‘Tis alright,” he cooed, running one hand along your side in a calming manner. His other grabbed yours and pinned it above your head with your fingers intertwined. Dipping his head down, his lips captured yours in a gentle kiss. It was languid, sensual even, and did not lack any passion. 
You arched your back against him, melting into the warmth that radiated off his body and relaxing almost instantly. Aemond used the opportunity to gently push the rest of his manhood into you, giving you time to adjust to his size once he was sheathed inside. 
You both released a deep breath at the same moment, fanning across each other’s kiss swollen lips. There was a burning inside of you, and you felt filled to the brim, yet it did not sting as badly as it had before. 
“Gods be good,” he rasped, voice tinted with deep desire, “you were made for me. You were always meant to be mine.” Light kisses trailed along your jaw and the side of your neck, meaning he could not spot the color his words forced onto your cheeks. 
Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you craned your neck and granted him more access, drowning in the calming feeling of his lips on your skin and the burning desire that pooled between your legs. “Feels s-so good,” you half-moaned, half-whimpered, and Aemond took that as his cue to move. 
His eye searched your face for any sign of discomfort, as if there was the possibility of you only saying it to please him. When he found none, he began rutting his hips into yours. The pace was slow, just like it had been throughout the whole night, and despite it being unsaid, you both knew that was not what this night was about. It was about your unity, making peace with your past and embracing your future together. 
Entangling your other hand in his silver strands, you gently tugged on them, tilting his head back to the point you were able to press your lips to his throat. Aemond groaned, and in response to his cock throbbing inside of you, your walls clenching around him. 
“Tell me… Tell me how I make you feel,” he stammered, breathlessly. His jaw was set, and the bump in his throat bobbed against your lips each time he swallowed his saliva. You mewled against his flushed skin, slightly sucking it between your lips only to release it a few seconds after. 
Running your hand from the back of his head down his spine, it rested on his arse, gently squeezing his flesh. “So good,” you panted, pressing a chaste kiss to his throat. “... incredible.”
Aemond buried his face in the crook of your neck, driving himself into you with a little more determination and force. His body was rutting against your little bud in a way that had the familiar feeling of your peak settling in the pit of your belly, even tingling in the soles of your feet. 
It must have been obvious to him how close you were with your walls trembling and the grip of your legs around his waist tightening; he squeezed your hand once, twice, before grunting against your skin, “peak for me. Can you do that, mh?”
Far too lost in the pleasure his presence granted you, you nodded your head, humming a ‘hmm’ as you wanted nothing more than to please him. And with your peak crashing over you, you did just that. 
A row of wanton moans and whimpers slipped past your lips, growing in volume each time his cock dragged along that sensitive spot inside of you. With your convulsing walls, stars also started to cloud your vision, and it felt as if dragonfire was spreading throughout your body. 
“Please,” you begged, digging your nails into the back of his hand and the flesh of his arse. Aemond hissed at the stinging pain, but his hips did not falter. “Let me give you an heir,” you whined, “put your son in me. Kostilus… please.” It sounded more desperate than intended, but had the desired effect. 
“Seven hells, fuck, yes!” His body went rigid as his twitching cock spent itself deep inside of your quivering walls. Your cunt was choking him, squeezing him so tightly it had his thrusts faltering, coming to a halt despite him still spilling his seed. 
Aemond collapsed on top of you, trying to control his breathing with his face pressed into your dampened hair. Your body was limp, and while a steady breath came quicker to you than him, you weren’t able to do much more than trace your fingers over his back in mindless patterns. 
He pulled out of you as he rolled onto his side, fingers still intertwined with yours and no intention of letting go so soon. You watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, tongue darting out to wet your lips. 
It was surprising you both when you reached out to ghost your index finger over the red scar that emerged below his eye, an expression of concern crawling onto your features with Aemond wincing slightly. 
“Gaomagon daor mirre ruaragon hen nyke arlī,” you whispered, your eyes flickering from his lips up to meet his good one. Do not ever hide from me again. A chuckle came from him, juxtaposed by the nod of his head. “Avy jorrāelan, tolī.” I love you, too. 
Pressing your lips into a thin line was a fruitless attempt to stop them from pulling into a wide grin, and you giggled softly, before your arm wrapped around his neck to pull yourself against him. Mounting him like your beloved Silverwing, you straddled his hips, his cock already half-hard again. 
His member and the whispy hairs around it were glistening in the dim light similar to the sapphire in the socket of his eye, yet it was for a completely different reason. Your mixed juices leaked out of your cunt, coating him and claiming him just like he had claimed you as his before. 
“I might be yours, but you are just as much mine,” you said. 
Aemond smirked at you, before sitting up a little and cupping your face with both hands. His lips collided against yours, pulling you down and consuming you with a kiss that was less chaste than the ones you had shared before, swallowing you in passion. 
Sleep hardly found you in the hours that followed, and if it did, it was only to be interrupted again by lingering kisses and touches, making up for the years you had gone without. 
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Taglist: @seabasscevans @dixie-elocin @thelittleswanao3@gemini-mama
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danytar · 6 days
Text
“I will make them pay a hundred times over” [ Aegon X Wife reader ]
Warnings : anxiety - miscarriage - Blood and mention of murder
Summary : After the cheese and blood incident aegon's wife suffers from an early miscarriage and PTSD which make her husband to become extremely angry and sad about what happened to his children and wife.
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The dance of dragons had begun and you were just realizing that as Aegon's sister wife, you will suffer the most. Being Aegon's queen wasn't easy. Rhaenyra's son Lucerys, who crowned herself queen at the Dragonstone, was killed.
And in response, rhaenyra's husband daemon sent two men calling themselves Blood & Cheese to kill Aegon and your son Jaehaerys. You begged the men to take your life. You begged them to kill you and your baby in your womb whose existence you learned a few days ago. But neither blood nor cheese accepted this. Your son Jaehaerys was murdered by them
Your precious son was killed before your eyes and you were unable to protect him or do anything could save him you were left in front of your son's headless body to drown in your resolve and shock.
Your screams shook the walls of the Red Keep Moments later, your husband rushed to you with his guards Your brother and mother have come with him as well The king's eyes fell on the body of his eldest son, who was brutally murdered Then he looked at you.. Your condition was miserable and difficult. You were kneeling on your knees and your tears were constantly flowing.
“Bring the person who responsible for this! now! Bring him to me!” Your husband shouted at the guards angrily.
The guards nodded and rushed to investigate the incident...while the servants were rushing in to clean the place and cover the body from your sight. Aegon knelt down next to you and hugged you tightly “My love- You interrupted him “It's a- all m-my faul-t!”. You spoke in a trembling voice.
“No. it's not”. He replied, trying to reassure you.
Before you could answer him again You felt your stomach clench and twist suddenly Your husband noticed your sudden behavior and your distance from his embrace “ Darling.. W- what's wrong? ”. he ask you.
But you felt so intense pain penetrating you that you could no longer hear anything else in the room. Your hands quickly slid under your dress to check out.. as soon you saw your fingers covered in your own blood You sighed quickly and looked at your husband “ The baby is coming”. you told him.
Your husband's eyes widened in shock and worry “Where's the FuCkin MaeSTeRs! ”. The king shouted. Your mother, the Queen Dowager, held your other hand and tried to comfort you “Relax, my dearest love, everything will be alright”.
But you knew one thing: the child in your womb would not survive Because you are still in the early stages of pregnancy. as soon as impossible you went into a very painful and difficult labor. You wished you the death hundred times to free yourself from this pain.
Even the midwives' words and encouragement did not make you happy Or at least relieve your pain. “You have to be strong my queen this is your third time on this bed”. Aegon comfort you and kisses the palm of your hand lightly.
“I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! ”. you replies while you feel as if your insides are being torn apart. Your husband was by your side and your mother too. Despite your pain, you were unable to put your son’s body away from your mind, which made your pain worse. You were begging your husband to kill you and free you from this torment.
After a long struggle and a painful labor like hell, you gave birth to a deformed and underdeveloped boy. Your mother put her hand to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. aegon was unable to speak, he was devastated. now he lost his firstborn son and his son who was in your womb It was hard for him and you You remained silent.. You didn't even have any tears left to cry..
“What happened?”. This question was on the back of your mind.. Weeks ago, you and your husband were lying together, suggesting names for your new baby..
and yet this happens to your happy family ofc it wasn't your choose everything was out of your control. It was not your fault or your husband's fault.
It was very painful for you to see the bodies of your children preparing to be consumed by fire. aegon was by your side, holding your hand to support you mentally and emotionally.
Of course, seeing his dear queen in this state shattered him into small fragments... but he did not want to show it in front of others. He did not want to show his weakness in front of people or in front of you at this moment because you needed him.. You needed his support now.
Later, you were sitting in your chair next to the fire with a cup of wine in your hand to bury your sadness and pain in it. The room was very silent. You were so sad and broken that you did not even bother to attend the council with your husband. Your precious son is now dead and you have lost your child.. What is the benefit of the council now?
Aegon entered the room quietly, with clear signs of fatigue on his face he saw you there drinking, trying to console yourself with those cups He slowly walked towards you as he said “What was done to Jaehaerys will not go unpunished. I swear. I will avenge our son”.
you heard him talking and you stopped drinking for a moment, then sighed quietly and you answered him with a hoarse, Your voice was like a whisper “I will avenge him.. we will average our son.. ”.
Aegon looked back at you, holding your hand. His eyes looked a little drunk and filled with rage.“What they did to Jaehaerys...”.
He couldn't even finish his words and instead clenched his fist as his face went red with rage. He gulped from his cup and then said.
“I promise you, I will avenge his death. I will make them pay.”
you looked at him and replies with an angry and sad tone in your voice. “ I don't want you to promise me.. I want them DEAD!”.
His gaze was intense, and you could see the rage in his eyes. A low growl came from his throat. He looked as if he was on the verge of bursting with rage.
“I won't just promise you... I won't just avenge Jaehaerys and then let that be the end of it. I will burn them all... I will make them suffer.”
His voice was full of hatred and his hand gripped your hand tightly. Still looking at you with burning eyes, he added.
“I am tired of losing people I love. I won't sit still and do nothing while they tear me down piece by piece”.
He was now standing and he looked even more furious.
“Rhaenyra will not have her happiness. She has to suffer for what happened. I will not wait, I will not be patient. I will act as soon as possible”.
Your eyes filled with tears again and you swallowed trying to speak “Please.. do". Your words were incoherent and broken.
“He was our son.. our sweet boy”. She whispered hoarsely
Aegon was angry, but his face changed. Anger and coldness was replaced by something warm as he looked at your tear-filled eyes. His face softened as he saw your broken voice. He still was angry and raging but he also realized that you were broken as well.
He kneeled in front of you, still holding your hand, and his face now looked at yours. He took your other hand as well. He was angry, but not with you. He couldn’t take his eyes off yours, and his expression was tender.
“Shhh.. everything will be alright my dearest I promise”. he replies then he moved closer to hug your head to his chest.. You sobbed into his chest like a little girl...while he gently stroked your silver hair and kissed your head.
“They will pay for every single tear that falls from you eyes”. he whipped
Your grip on his collar tightened.. You slowly lifted your head from his chest and looked at his face He slowly leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck The two of you exchanged desperate kisses..
You both broke the kiss and looked at each other.. then he said “I will make them pay a hundred times over.. ”.
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jhuzen · 7 months
Note
do you have any thirst hcs for grandpapi neuvi? if you do pls share i’m so hungry 🤲
hydro dragonussy [m.reader]
hello hello, guess who’s back to writing again? this is a warmup because i struggled hard in continuing my kaveh request wip and a buncha scenarios for sick reader w genshin men and jing yuan all at once. on second thought… i think i really shouldn’t have written everything all at once. not to mention i’m trying out quotev to publish my yandere oc/m.reader stuff for fun. + yes that is the title. it’s either that or crybaby old man dragon thirsts. you pick.
𖦹 nsfw, neuvi is a virgin old man, underlying mentions of reader being an attorney (we all know i have a bias for them anyway, have you seen my workload series? lmao), switch male reader, switch neuvi, though we’re heavily leaning on bottom neuvi for this one, honorable mentions of cockwarming and thigh fucking, brief mention of double penetration (reader receiving), gentle and rough sex, implied dacryphilia (you), breeding, fontaine rains whether or not he’s sad, his tears are the rain and i will drink them like a hungry eremite in the sumeru desert.
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Let’s face it, Neuvillette has no time outside of his work as the Iudex of Fontaine, he’s constantly buried underneath those paperworks, and on top of that, when he’s not tackling mountains of cases, he’s out in the opera, presiding trial after trial when the Oratrice can already do the same thing for him.
So when you appeared in his life all of a sudden, he was new to all sorts of things. In his long life as a dragon, he has had little experience in what you can offer to him. He’s awkward for the first few moments of your relationship.
It’s the same to sex — you’d have to take initiative in every single little thing, show him the ropes like the good commander you are, and he obeys with no complaints. He sees that you enjoy it, and if you’re good at it and you’re willing to teach him, he is an obedient patient.
Old man’s heads are very clumsy at first, teeth scraping against your length while he slowly but surely bobbed his head. He’s slow, but he treats your little guy with so much care. Looking up at you with tears pricking at the ends of his eyes as he tried to please you as best as he could. Obligatory weather report — it’s a light drizzle in Fontaine.
But when you give him head, Neuvillette squirms, it doesn’t matter where he is, he could not keep himself still. It’s always obvious that even you cannot bring yourself to blow him semi-public in his office, just because you’re afraid a poor innocent little Melusine would come inside and see their beloved leader squirming around traumatize them. It would also be bad for his image if you guys get caught, so… sexy times are inside the comfort of his possibly huge home as much as possible.
Sex with him is slow and intimate, very romantic. What did you expect? He’s from Fontaine and they apparently love to romanticize things. Whether or not who’s on top when you guys are doing it, they are a lot more languid in style, like a moment of relaxation between the two of you.
A switch, though preferably a bottom. Yes, that’s right, old man Neuvillette likes to be serviced. He likes it when you’re the one filling him up so good. It’s hot and heavy, just the way he likes it.
He’s a tired man, so he’s definitely a pillow prince— no, a pillow king. He lays there and takes it like a good boy, only gazing at you with those soft eyes, hazy with love and lust while you continued to push into him. He takes your hand in his every time you enter him and he always squeezes your hand tight the deeper you go in.
Call him romantic and a basic man, but he lives for missionary. He wants to see you while he feels you stuff him full of your cock. He only writhes in the beginning while he tries to adjust around you, squeezing you tight inside him while his breath stutters, trying to take you in all at once.
If he’s the one in charge, it’s all the same, he’s gentle with his actions, though, honestly, he’d rather have you ride him instead. He likes to see you in all your glory, with you rolling your hips in such a needy manner while he kept you grounded, holding onto you as he caressed your thighs. It’s perfect for him.
Oh yeah, and this goes without saying — he’s a dragon, so he has two cocks. Fitting him in is a sport on its own, but you graduated with a major in fucking dragons, so you’re good. He’s a bit thicker on the side too, so each time you take him in, you could feel every inch of him, and every throb of his cocks is a heaven sent feeling that courses through your insides.
Please be gentle with him, he is an old tired man who hasn’t had a break. He is so vanilla that it’s boring but his cries are worth it.
He’s a very quiet man too, his moans are shy and light, a gasp here and there and a tiny whimper with every increment of speed adding into your thrusts.
Neuvillette is definitely the type to squirm and get away from you at first, but you just need to keep him still and hold him down by his thighs before you plow into him. He likes it though when you do it, it reassures him that you want to do this with him and that you’re not letting him go no matter what happens.
Another weather report: a good light rain. Not too heavy.
Now that all the sweet stuff is out of the way, rough sex is not as often as the usual vanilla one, but it’s not completely an uninvited guest between you two.
If you fucked him rough and hard, Neuvillette will cry and break. His poor pristine and unmarked body, filled to the brim with your greedy bite marks and hickeys, glowing red and bruising dark purple that leaves him embarrassed when they’re still around if you somehow managed to weasel in a rough session in the morning before he goes to work and you will be reprimanded for it once he’s home, no exceptions.
“No more of these obvious markings,” he’d say with a stern tone, only to end up face down on the pillow with his ass up while you found a loophole and devoured his entire back instead.
He hates that he can’t see you when you go rough on him, because it’s normally him ending up with his face buried into his pillow while he laid on his stomach, his hips being held up by you while you ruthlessly pounded into him without even an ounce of mercy.
He hates it, but at the same time, it does help with keeping his noise down because when you’re doing him so roughly, Neuvillette wails, he cries hard, with those pretty tears of his not letting up. He’d scream to the high heavens and were it not for the fact that your hand was forcing his head down into his soft pillow, the entirety of Fontaine would hear it.
Again, Neuvillette is a tired old man, so something so rough definitely leaves him drained, you’d constantly have to hold him up halfway through your little session.
Fucking him while he’s on his side and his one leg hooked over your shoulder is a great compromise, with how you can both still see each other Neuvillette can immediately turn his head to hide away into his pillow when he realizes he’s being a little too loud on his own good.
He’s definitely the kind to force himself to be quiet. If you fuck him without anything for him to bite into to hide his loud noises, he will cry and be embarrassed through out, barely even managing to cover his own mouth with his hand without an ounce of struggle while his body jerked up and down, following through every harsh punctuated thrust that you made into him. Weather report: Fontaine has a storm.
Neuvillette cries his heart out every time you go rough, full on sobbing and it is such a turn on. The way he makes garbled noises while he would protest into your roughness, hand gently pushing into yours while he asks for you to be gentler and go a little slower, only to cling helplessly into his pillow when his pleas fell into deaf ears.
His tears are just… divine. He cries so prettily and he does it with unwitting grace and class — somehow, he’s just innately beautiful in every thing that he does. There is no such thing as an unsightly sobbing to this man.
Neuvillette makes this soft noise in between a whimper and a gasp every time you hit his prostate spot on and he just shudders in delight, his breath shaky until he can barely think straight.
Gentle or rough, he’s definitely into breeding. Neuvillette has a breeding kink and anyone who thinks otherwise will sink deeper than Khaenri’ah. Stuff him full of your cum and he’s a happy and satisfied man.
It’s not just the feeling of your hot seed pumping him full that pleases him, but being around the Melusines, treating them like his children despite them being just his subordinates has definitely gotten this old man all too paternal. He likes the premise of being able to build a family with you, and he will nurture your children with all his being.
Thigh fucking? Thigh fucking. Though it’s rare, only when he’s really tired but still aches to please you, and even you’re too lazy to move a lot.
Bother him when he takes work at home by making him cockwarm you. He could not concentrate at all — squirming and squeezing around your cock so deliciously while you teased him about getting his work done.
Has definitely tried wall sex with you, with his back against the wall while you held him up. May or may not have happened at the opera after a heated trial when he ruled against your client and you were pissed your streak of wins on that week crumbled into dust. It’s neither your fault but the client’s, but you’re a sore loser and Neuvillette is a stoic judge.
Call him daddy while you fuck into him and he will break, he’ll go slack, his mind numbed when a rush of dopamine just infiltrated his brain every time you’d call him that.
And after all that, aftercare is a must. Treat your dragon well. He did so much for you, and you broke his old man back after fucking him into oblivion. Clean him nice and well, kiss his tears away, and wrap him tightly in a blanket while you hold him.
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pancake-breakfast · 8 months
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I think chapter 2 of TriMax Volume 6 might just be my favorite thus far. Everything in it hinges on this one iconic scene.
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This isn't the first time Wolfwood has pointed a gun at Vash's head. Maybe it won't even be the last. But it holds a bit more weight here because just a few pages ago, we saw a flashback where Wolfwood pointed his gun at someone else's head.
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His hand shakes as he aims at Knives. His breath is heavy, and the memory of the Fifth Moon incident is fresh in his mind. He knows if he can just pull the trigger, he can end it here. This being of destruction will be gone, and maybe this time his fancy scientists won't be able to bring him back.
But then Knives does Plant things, and under the weight of it Wolfwood finds he just can't follow through. He fears his own death too much, and Knives will surely kill him.
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When he points his gun at Vash, it's different. His hand is steady, his breath calm. The memory of everything that happened at the Dragon's Nest is fresh in his mind; just this morning he warned Meryl that she and Milly should remember that, despite his ideals, Vash is still a loose cannon that they'd do well to avoid. He thinks to himself that if he can just pull the trigger, if he can just take out the less intimidating of the brothers, then one of these monstrous twins and half of the problem will be gone.
This time, there's no crushing sensation of oppression. There's no air of fear and malice. There are no threats or memories of twisted promises. There's only a look, wary and concerned...
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...but even by the time this happens, Wolfwood has already lowered his gun. He's decided not to pull the trigger, not because of an immediate threat on his life, but because... well, it's Vash.
Wolfwood surely knows that if he pulls that trigger, he catastrophically fails his mission, and whatever consequences might await him on the far side of such a failure aren't going to be anywhere near pleasant. But it doesn't seem like it's fear of Knives that makes him lower his gun. At the very, very least, Wolfwood knows no one stands a better chance at taking down Knives, but he also knows Vash. He's seen Vash's fake smiles and knows his real ones. He understands Vash's ideals despite very much not wanting to and not knowing how he could possibly accept them for himself. He's fought side by side with Vash, and been standing at his back since day 1.
And before this night is out, only a few minutes after pulling a gun on Vash, Wolfwood's right back there again, moving in tandem with Vash, being a human shield so they can accomplish Vash's goals together.
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It's only when the fight comes to a close that Wolfwood realizes that's what he's been doing. He didn't put any thought into falling in step behind Vash, didn't dwell on the fact that Vash trusted and moved with him during the fight. It's only afterwards, when they stop to catch their breath, that he realizes Vash hasn't looked his way through the whole battle. That Vash didn't need to look his way through the whole battle.
Not only did Vash trust Wolfwood at his back, but he knows Wolfwood well enough to move intuitively around him, not hesitating and always understanding what Wolfwood's about to do. And at that moment, Wolfwood realizes two things:
First, that there's no way Vash didn't notice when Wolfwood pointed a gun at him. If Knives could figure it out while half dead and barely knowing Wolfwood, then Vash, who's awake, alert, and has spent plenty of time with Wolfwood, can surely figure it out.
And second, that when he's fighting back to back with Vash, nothing else really matters. All his (quite legitimate) fears about what Vash is and how dangerous he can be, about Knives, about finishing his job, about what he himself has become... they all melt away. He's where he needs to be, where he should be, and that's all there is to it.
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