#haunted: lady-guts
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🎃🍷 Trick or treat! 🖤🎃
On this creepy Halloween night, @lady-guts has been haunted by the spooky ghost @wardog-of-the-endless, and they've left behind a treat!
Rating: Teen
Tags: Fluff, First Meetings/Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe- Fantasy
Anakinn Theerapanyakun is staring at an absolute dive, and briefly considers the possibility that Tay’s phone has been stolen and he’s being led into an ambush. Though he’s double-checked the address twice, the modest bar beyond the window of Kinn’s Maserati doesn’t seem to be changing, for all that there’s no way he’s convinced it’s the correct location. Tay -Taechin Lerttravinont- is nearly as high in the Mafia food chain as Kinn himself, and as such is far more accustomed to dining on rooftop restaurants and drinking champagne more costly than most people’s cars. There’s no reason for him to decide that this humble hole-in-the-wall spot is the place to be, no matter what Autumn-themed event they might be hosting.
As he scowls at the cheerful lights draped over the entryway, Kinn’s phone chirps with an incoming message.
1 New Message
Tay: Are you lurking outside? Just get in here before you miss the show.
1 New Message
Tay: NOW, Anakinn.
“Alright, alright,” Kinn muttered, sliding the phone away and throwing the door open. “We’re staying.”
“Yes, Khun Kinn,” Big murmurs obediently, scrambling to follow him across the street and into the bar. Most Naga are better moving on tails than they are on feet, though it can cost both time and stealth for them to shift, but Kinn’s found Big especially loses grace when he’s caught off guard. At the moment there’s not threat great enough to prompt a transformation, so Kinn lets the near-frantic movement pass without comment.
Kinn navigates a narrow hallway, rolling his eyes when Big darts around him to navigate the blind corner into the bar itself. The group is easy to hear from the street and nearly deafening inside, for all that the space seemed small and shouldn’t be able to hold a significant audience. From the sound of things the space is beyond packed, and all of them are shouting eagerly about some entertainment Kinn can’t yet see.
He rounds the corner when Big drifts back to nod, and steps into an audience that’s shouting as they watch the show being conducted by a trio of flair bartenders. The two shorter ones are catching bottles tossed this way and that, winging them to each other for shelving when it seems they’ve been thrown the wrong direction. The center of attention is a tall man with golden skin, laughing brightly as he throws bottles and shakers this way and that, mixing drinks to slide down the bar with flirtatious winks and air kisses.
Tay catches the most recent drink with a smirk, tossing a look over his shoulder and beaming widely at the sight of Kinn. “Kinn!”
The cheerful shout catches the pretty bartender’s attention, and he lines shot glasses up with miraculous swiftness, tossing a vodka bottle with a spin before effortlessly tipping it in a casual pour. He moves down the line of glasses and fills the row of shots, tossing the bottle aside when he’s half-way down the bartop, with a row of dozens of glasses between him and Kinn and Tay.
“Isn’t he scrumptious?” Tay murmurs when Kinn’s at his side, grinning up at his friend and then looking back the row of shots. “Watch this.”
“You brought me to a dive for the bar show?” Kinn murmurs, obligingly leaning on the edge of the bar and eying the nearest shot. It’s within reach, but he doesn’t, at least not yet.
“It’s quite a show, baby,” Giving a flirty smile he leans down to nearly cheek to bartop, the bartender gives a flirty wink and then blows Kinn a kiss.
A spark of gold leaves his lips, a whisper that might be flame or might be a trick of the light. Except, the first shot catches fire, then the second, flame leaping in a cheerful line from glass to glass, dancing down the length of the bar and racing to stop just beyond Kinn’s reach, burning cheerfully in the lip of the last glass. Kinn stares at the dancing blue light, feeling warmth kindle in his gut.
The crowd screams and Tay laughs, throwing his head back and flashing the glimmer of shining silver scales that flow down his pretty neck. Though usually they can be explained away as body paint or glitter, in half of Tay’s high-fashion looks he doesn’t need to bother with explanations, and this close to Halloween he’s unlikely to keep his gifts underwraps.
Kinn’s torn between being surprised enough that his best friend is showing his siren traits so freely in public, and wondering just what the hell is smiling at him from down the stretch of mahogany wood. Instinctively he steps closer to Tay, wrapping a possessive arm around the back of his chair and leaning down till a conversation is possible above the din.
“Pretty, right?” Tay hums, sipping at his drink and watching as the bartender begins passing out flaming shots to those brave enough to reach for them. “His name is Porsche.”
“Hmmm, pretty,” Kinn agrees, eyes caught on the stretch of gold skin from jawline to breastbone, easily visible through the half-open black shirt Porsche is wearing. “And what, pray tell, is Porsche?”
“Anakinn,” Tay scolds mildly. “What a rude inquiry.”
“You knew I would ask,” Kinn glared at him. “You dragged me in here and gift-wrapped him for me to ask.”
“Can’t I just want to share a pretty bartender and my favorite hideaway with my best friend?” Tay murmurs, fingers idly caressing his glass. “You can appreciate the view without being rude, Anakinn.”
“Is it rude?” Kinn muses, watching Porsche take orders and flip bottles with ease, chattering away with his fully-engaged crowd. “No scales, but he’s a firestarter.”
“Maybe it was just flair,” Tay argues, just for the sake of it and not like he really believes.
Kinn’s betting he knows better, judging by the way he smirks at his beverage. “Could be, but wasn’t. You know him?”
“Just from trips here,” Tay shrugs. “He told me to cut Time loose months ago. Apparently he had a look.”
“A look,” Kinn echoes dubiously, attention slid back to Tay at the mention of his ex. “What does that mean?”
“Some men are cheaters, sweetheart,” Croons a smooth voice as the bartender -Porsche- appears in front of them, his warmth immediately noticeable even separated by the stretch of bartop.
Kinn feels his approach and snaps his head up immediately, eyes fixing on the flash of chest and then slowly gliding up the elegant line of clavicles and neck, the sharp cut of jaw, the elegant cast of his face. Porsche is stunning, and his smile and the gleam of his dark eyes tells Kinn he knows it. Even in the thick air of the bar he smells like sandalwood, with notes of amber and vanilla and neroli. He smells expensive, like something best experienced on a bed of silk.
Kinn would happily take him there, pin him to the bed in his penthouse apartment… maybe against the glass wall of the pool.
“And they look like cheaters,” Porsche continues, folding his arms on the bartop and leaning forward just enough that Kinn feels himself sway closer. “Not you though, sweetheart.”
“Glad to hear it,” Kinn rumbles, warmth building in his chest at the acknowledgement. “So you told Tay to ditch Time.”
“I told the most beautiful man in the room that his idiotic date was shopping around,” Porsche retorts, sharp and smooth with it. “I’m a bartender, darling, it’s practically like being a therapist. I just call it like I see it.”
“So you saw Time was a problem,” Kinn leans on the bartop. “And told Tay to cut him loose?”
“Technically,” Porsche purrs, leaning closer. “I told Tay I would cheerfully thrash and trash his date, no charge, and make sure he made it home without any pathetic hangers on. He thanked me and tipped very well, and then when I was right he came back and told me so.”
“Tay and Time broke up months ago,” Kinn notes.
“Mmmm,” Porsche nodded. “Pretty Tay and I have spent quite a bit of time talking about the men that have disappointed us.”
“I told Porsche there was only one man I could think of that never let me down,” Tay murmured, tugging playfully at the lapel of Kinn’s suit. “He demanded I produce evidence, so here you are.”
“Fairly prompt, too,” Porsche notes, sounding impressed. “Tay thought you might sit in the car for at least another ten minutes, and totally miss the Phoenix Kiss shots. He was prepared to be very disappointed.”
“Phoenix,” Kinn murmurs, and it takes everything in him not to growl.
The last Phoenix clan known in their world was wiped out nearly twenty years ago, by all reckoning. It both left the Theerapanyakul dragon clan as the clear dominant force in the Thai underworld, and weakened them significantly. Regardless of gender, the most powerful supernatural couple had always been a dragon and a Phoenix. Kinn’s own mother had been one, before mafia-fueled power struggles had taken her from the family. Kinn had more or less resigned himself to reigning as a solitary force, and suddenly a night out at a dive bar with Tay is changing everything.
“Mmmmm,” Porsche grins, swaying forward even further, a flame dancing in his dark eyes. “No need to ask who you are, Big Dragon, I could smell it on you when you walked in the door.”
“Careful, pretty bird.” Kinn growls, smiling as he watches a golden hand reach out and flick playfully at the open placket of his shirt. By some instinct Kinn raises one hand and catches the impertinent fingers, pulling them to his mouth so he can press a kiss to Porsche’s knuckles.
“My, aren’t you a charmer,” Porsche crooned, grinning at the gesture. “Tay was right.”
“When properly motivated, I am many things.” Kinn promises. I’d dedicate all of them to you.
By birthright alone, half of Bangkok belongs to this man. Staring into his gleaming eyes, Kinn wants nothing more than to offer up the rest.
“Mmmm, my work here appears to be done.” Tay notes, smiling as he slides a stack of notes under Porsche’s folded arms. “You two play nice, alright? Porsche, I expect to see you soon, hmmm? But not too soon, or I’ll be very disappointed in Anakinn. I always thought the world of him, to find out he has no stamina now would devastate that impression.”
“Tay,” Kinn growls in warning.
“I’m going first,” Tay cuts in. “You can have my chair, Kinn. I don’t think Porsche gets off for another hour or so.”
“Well not unless we duck out to the alley,” Porsche smirked. “But I probably shouldn’t drag down the king of the underworld on the first meeting… People will talk.”
“You could blame me,” Tay murmured, brushing a kiss over Porsche’s cheek before he does the same to Kinn’s. “Blessings upon you both, darlings… I’ll see you.”
Porsche blinks, smiling faintly as he watches Tay swan back out the door. “He’s certainly something, isn’t he?”
“Mmmmm,” Kinn hummed his agreement. “But I think, Pretty Bird, I’d rather talk about you.”
“Not so fast, Khun Kinn, I’m not quite that kind of boy.” Porsche flashed bright teeth in a grin that was more a challenging little snarl. “Some of us have work, rich boy. You just hold down that chair, I’ll get back with you soon.”
“Porsche-”
“Soon,” Porsche promised with a wink, sliding a glass of whiskey across the bar. “Here. Be good now.”
“Fine.” Kinn grumbled. “For now.”
With possibly the last Phoenix in Bangkok in his sights, Kinn could afford a little patience.
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i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry.
summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2k
tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please
warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise
author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.
also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Bars weren't really your thing.
If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.
Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.
Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?
Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).
You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.
You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.
"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.
"Hey."
You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.
"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.
As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.
"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."
"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."
"You know that stuff's bad for you."
"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."
"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."
"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"
"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."
"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."
You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."
"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"
"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."
"We aren't strangers either though."
"That doesn't matter. Not friends."
"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."
"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."
"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"
You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.
"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.
You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.
You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.
Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.
You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.
"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."
Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.
"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.
#teenytinyjimin#bangtan#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts fanfiction#bts fic#angst#bts jungkook#bts jk#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook angst#jk angst#jungkook x reader#jk x reader#fanfic#jk fanfic
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Can I put in the request for Ben to “support the fine arts?” 🤣
A/N: Hahaha you may! Hope you have fun with this! Based on this drabble and this little ask 😝
Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSFW, smut (oral m), degrading, dirty talk, weird jealousy on both side, SB being a manipulative asshole
Word Count: 2.5k
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist
He Comes In Colors
The chatter in the classroom quiets down as your teacher, Mrs. Fournier, enters. You and your friends finish your sentences in hush and take your seats in front of your respective easels, not wanting to upset the strict, older lady again.
But instead of her usual cantankerous and bitter features, she sports an unusually bright smile and pinkly flushed cheeks today, still giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush and looking in the direction of the hallway as she walks to her desk.
Bashfully, she clears her throat and fights to regain her composure. “Class, we have a change of plans. I know we were supposed to devote our attention to the intricacies of nature today, but an opportunity presented itself we simply cannot pass up on. We have a very special guest this beautiful afternoon, who so graciously volunteered to be our model for this class.”
Your chest tightens slightly at her words, encumbered with a dark forewarning that settles in your gut. And as you catch a flicker of an all too familiar sage green kimono by the door, the bad omen in your belly only grows.
He wouldn’t dare, you think. Would he?
But you don’t have to answer your own question. Deep down you already know.
Of course, he would.
“Ladies and gentlemen, meet our model for today – the one and only Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier introduces, and you watch with parted lips as your stupid boyfriend strides into the classroom with an even stupider grin.
Mrs. Fournier claps with vivid adoration, expecting the class to follow her lead, but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than an annoyed slow clap. You shoot him a glare, and the smirk directed at you tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He aims to get on your nerves. He wants you to be mad.
Now, you’re sure you’ve done something in the last couple of days to upset him, and this is his way to enact his revenge instead of talking to you like an emotionally intelligent human being. Because Ben’s a fucking petty child, and this is how he deals with his feelings.
Ben offers his most charming red-carpet smile. “Pleasure to be here and support the fine arts, Mrs.–”
“Fournier,” your teacher provides all too helpfully.
“Ah, like fornicate. I can remember that,” Ben quips with a flirtatious smirk, while you suppress the sudden urge to stab him with the sharp end of your paintbrush.
You half expect the French woman to be appalled by the dirty joke. But to your big surprise, your over-sixty teacher only giggles in response like a high school freshman when the quarterback winks at her in the hallway.
“It is such an honor to have you here in my classroom, Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier raves with a blush haunting her cheeks. “You have been my favorite superhero ever since I was a little girl.”
“Oh, so only ten years, huh?” Ben flirts shamelessly, all the while sending you little glances that let you know that this is your punishment.
Do you have a clue yet what you did? Nope! And you suppose you will never find out. You just have to get through this.
“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
Soldier Boy devilishly rubs his palms together as he struts into the middle of the room, and with one flawless swing, he drops the robe and stands before you (and your classmates) in all his god-given glory. And boy, did God give – not only with two hands but probably with six or seven.
Mrs. Fournier gasps unabashedly with a palm on her weak heart and goddamn drool in your mouth, causing your frown only to deepen.
“Marvelous! Simply marvelous,” she rhapsodizes and is close to fainting. Of course, your boyfriend enjoys all this attention greatly. “It’s like staring at the statue of David!”
“Oh, please…” you mutter with a miffed scoff and roll your eyes back, but that only earns you a scolding glare from your teacher. You know then that showing your displeasure with the situation will only secure you a failing grade.
Ben then props his foot up on a little stool right in front of you, his cock hanging heavy and long between his muscular bow legs. And no, it’s not inflated to its full size but still as impressive and formidable as a lion king during a safari.
His gaze only sweeps across you before it lingers on your friend Alexander. There’s a cocky and yet threatening glint in your boyfriend’s eyes as he assesses the male next to you.
“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Soldier Boy prompts daringly. Only your boyfriend could talk about his dick like that and not even feel an ounce of shame. “Don’t worry, squirt. I’m sure yours is just fine,” he adds, but you know he doesn’t mean it.
And then, suddenly, it dawns on you – why he has decided to infiltrate your art class.
Two nights ago, you went out with Alexander and a few other friends from class for drinks and didn’t invite Ben. Mostly because Ben is obnoxious when he meets new people and is a little too “old-school values” for your hipster friends. It would take ages alone to even explain all their different sexualities and pronouns to your last-century boyfriend. You just wanted one night for yourself, and you knew now that hurt his feelings.
You even felt a tiny bit bad and guilty but by far not enough to accept this current shit show he was delivering.
“Oh my, I don’t want to be too forward but may I–” Your teacher doesn’t finish her sentence, but her reaching hand is suggestion enough.
Soldier Boy chuckles amusedly. “Oh, you may,” he says but smirks at you as you gape at him in utter indignation. “What kind of hero would I be, if I said no? After all, this body belongs to every American citizen.”
And as Mrs. Fournier’s greedy palm stretches for your boyfriend’s perky buttcheek, something inside you snaps. You jump up from your seat, all wild and fuming, before you realize everyone is staring at you with wide eyes and confused brows. No one knows you’re dating him, so your upset seems completely unwarranted to everyone else in the room. Only Ben’s lips rise triumphantly.
“Be-… Soldier Boy,” you correct yourself and clear your throat, forcing a tight-lipped smile on your face. “A word, please?”
“Y/N, we’re in the middle of a class. Show our guest some respect,” your teacher demands chidingly.
But Ben soothes her anger with another charming smile. “Oh, absolutely no problem, beautiful,” he says and causes Mrs. Fournier to blush once more. “Y/N here is clearly an adoring fan, and I always have time for my fans.”
“Yes, I’m a huge fan. I’ve never met a real celebrity before. My grandma will be so thrilled when I tell her all about it,” you lie as dryly as possible. Honestly, you’re so pissed you can’t get yourself to act remotely convincing.
“We’ll be right back,” Ben excuses with a tight smile.
He quickly throws his robe back on and grabs your upper arm, ushering you outside. You want to stop in the hallway, but he drags you further and shoves you into a supply closet, closing the door a little too roughly.
“You know the rules: no fucking drama in public. It’s not good for my image,” he reminds you sternly, and you try not to scoff.
“How dare you say that after waltzing into my goddamn class? Ben, my education is serious. You don’t mess with that,” you point out angrily and fold your arms over your tits. “I don’t have time for your petty revenge.”
“Yeah, you never have fucking time,” he huffs scornfully.
“Is this because I didn’t invite you for drinks with my friends?” You cock an eyebrow, shooting him a knowing look.
“No, this is because you went out with that fucking empty nutsack in there,” he bites and points an angry finger at you. “And by the way, you’d be fucking lucky to show me off. I’m a fucking catch! Have you seen how those bitches fawned over me in there?”
“Who? Mrs. Fournier? That old hag hasn’t seen any action since the French Revolution. She’d fawn over a fucking trash bag,” you retort and watch Ben purse his lips dejectedly. You smirk a little at your win.
But you don’t want to antagonize him more. You can tell that you hurt his fragile ego with your rejection, and while he fucking annoys you and drives you incredibly mad sometimes, you’re still deeply in love with the idiot in front of you. He does have his sweet moments every once in a while. He comes in many colors, a whole palette of different shades.
“Look, uhm, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to, okay? I don’t want you to be jealous. You have no reason to be, alright? I love you, asshole,” you tell him with a small smile.
“Fine, maybe I was a little jealous,” he admits after a beat. “But not of that scrawny twinkie in there.”
“Alright, maybe I was a little jealous, too,” you remark to make him feel better. “But not of that old French whore in there.” Ben snorts at that, chuckling. “So, do you forgive me and get the fuck outta my class now?”
Ben muses slyly and then grins. “I don’t think that apology was good enough.” Your brow draws into a deep frown at his words. Whatever has gotten into his mind now can’t be good. “They do say an apology is only worthy if it’s said on someone’s knees.”
You glare at him, your hands balling into furious fists by your side. “You gotta be kidding me…” you mutter and hiss through your teeth, “Ben, I’m not fucking blowing you in the supply closet of my school!”
Ben only shrugs carelessly. “Alright, guess I’ll have to ask Mrs. French Whore and see if she takes me up on my offer.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you grit.
“Oh, we both know I would, but I do prefer your beautiful and warm mouth, doll,” Ben smirks, letting each word roll off his tongue as his thumb pad reaches out and seductively traces your pink lips.
Instinctively, you suck his thumb into your mouth and massage it with your tongue, only widening his brash smile. As your eyes flicker down, you notice his rock-hard cock push through the fabric of the kimono and salute you. Your legs grow wobbly at the sight, your knees giving in with the urge to bend.
“Down,” he mouths, and you oblige without another protest, sinking to your knees in front of him.
You part your lips and stick your tongue out, ready to welcome his swollen tip. He fists his length and jerks his palm up and down a few times. He likes it to be as big as possible. He loves to see you struggle as you desperately try to fit all of him inside your tiny mouth.
His free hand lifts your chin, forces your eyes to find his as he guides his cock to your waiting mouth. He plops it on your tongue, heavy and thick, and lets it rest there for a second, gauging your reaction with a knowing smirk. You seal your lips around his weeping tip without question, your tongue swirling around it and dipping into the slit. You lick the salty precum with moans of pleasure, your hums sending vibrations up and down his length as your head begins to bob.
With each swallow you get closer to his pelvic bone, but Ben’s impatient and fists his hand into your hair. He roughly tugs and pulls you all the way down till your nose disappears in the little tuft of hair and tears stream down your cheeks as you cough for air.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl. Choke on my cock, you little slut,” he growls. His hips rock and find a rhythm as he thrusts inside you, hitting the back of your throat each time. “Fuck, that’ll teach you a lesson, won’t it? Who do you fucking belong to?”
He pulls you off his spit-drenched cock for the sole reason of replying. You look up at him as he expectantly meets your gaze with an arched eyebrow.
“You, daddy,” you reply on command.
He smirks in satisfaction and praises you, “There’s my good girl.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes back inside you. “Gonna send you back in with my cum all over you. Show those little pricks they can’t fucking touch what’s mine.”
As his hips gain speed, you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, feeling him swell on your tongue. Your jaw begins to ache, barely fitting his girth while his massive length drills relentlessly into your throat. Drool dribbles out from the sides of your mouth and mixes with your tears. Your mascara is nonexistent at this point and smeared all over your face.
And you know damn well, as soon as you walk back into class, everyone will know what you did.
“Such a good little whore for me,” Ben groans and pistons deeper once more, squeezing his eyes shut. You know it’s his telltale sign that he's close. “You’re such a fucking mess. Shit, gonna blow…”
He grunts as his hips stutter and his cock throbs in your mouth. He shoots hot ropes of cum down your throat, pulling out in the midst to paint your face with the rest. God knows he would never miss an opportunity to mark you. And when he’s done with his piece of sublime artwork, he smirks down at you, all self-satisfied and proud.
But then a bit of sweetness returns as he holds out his hands and helps you back on your feet. He gently tucks and brushes your hair back into place before snatching a roll of paper towels from the rack of art supplies behind you. He thoroughly cleans your face, removing any evidence of his deed, and kisses your hairline like you’re his most prized possession when he’s finished.
“There, all done, doll.” Ben’s smile makes you blush as he cups your cheeks. “No one will be the fucking wiser.”
As the two of you saunter back inside, no one seems to suspect anything. You get back to your original seat, while Ben invents some silly excuse to get out of his naked commitment.
But then Alexander tilts his head at you with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, his finger pointing at his own cheek. “Y/N, uhm, I think you have something there. Oh, uhm, is that…”
He doesn’t finish as your eyes widen and your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your shocked gaze darts to your boyfriend as he lingers by the door. With one last cunning smirk, he winks at you and heads out.
Yes, your boyfriend surely comes in many colors – and most of them are dark.
And yes, you bet your ass Ben was crushing hard on Mrs. Fournier 😂 Hope you enjoyed this!
PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE
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#dirty drabbles#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy x femaler reader#soldier boy reader insert#soldier boy smut#the boys#the boys amazon#the boys x reader#the boys smut#jensen ackles
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WIP excerpt: Danny goes to Gotham and meets a dead Robin.
There are options for ways to approach an unfamiliar ghost–especially a baby ghost, and from the look of him Robin can’t be more than three or four years dead, if that–but since Robin is a superhero, Danny takes the obvious one. He sticks Tucker’s ghost-proof GPS into his chest or a pocket dimension or some cross between the two and then he glides down through Gotham’s smog and starlight and lets the invisibility and intangibility drop to give the kid a light little greeting swat. Very light–it only knocks Robin halfway across the roof he’s racing across. Which might be a little patronizing, but sue him, the kid is tiny.
Lady Gotham croons, mournful and adoring, and her Robin tumbles through a roll and pops up alertly out of the bat-winged shadows that surround him, doing a perfect flip to land right on top of one of the gargoyles at the edge of the roof. His eyes are wide and white-lensed behind the domino mask, and the moment he sees Danny he laughs.
stranger stranger, careful careful, gonna tell my daaaaad, Robin’s core sing-songs, bright and shiny and secure in that threat, and Danny’s mouth quirks in wry amusement. Yeah, definitely a baby ghost. But it’s nice to see Batman’s kid feels safe with him even dead; is still confident in his protection no matter what. Apparently Batman is a little more down with ghosts and spirits than Danny’s own parents started out, but really, of course he is. He is Lady Gotham’s boytoy, after all.
show me what you’ve got, Danny hums back through his own core–the traditional ghost-introduction for any haunt, even with a baby ghost. Honestly, it’s more impressive a ghost this young has a haunt, but given how thoroughly Lady Gotham’s favor surrounds him, it’s not exactly a surprise either.
Danny’s surprised Robin ever managed to die at all, though, considering how much Lady Gotham loves him.
Robin springs forward across the roof and Danny side-steps his attack and tries to trip him, but Robin flips right over his leg sweep and throws a fistful of–what are they, batarangs, Danny guesses? batarangs, sure–right at his face. Danny goes intangible because he just does not have the reflexes to dodge that from this close, but the second he phases back in gets a double kick to the gut.
Robin is definitely a trained fighter, yeah. A trained fighter with experience.
Nice, Danny thinks, and grins as he zaps a tangle of tiny ecto-blasts at the kid in playful mimicry of those batarangs of his. Robin cartwheels out of the way and then darts in low and leaps up into Danny’s face.
Very nice.
Danny inspects Robin’s core thoughtfully as the kid tries to roundhouse-kick his head off his shoulders with another bright, cackling laugh, which is frankly adorable, and it’s actually really impressive? Like–Robin is a surprisingly strong ghost for his age, glowing with faith and shining like a beacon in the dark, and since Danny’s never heard anyone call him a ghost before, he’s gotta at least be strong enough to manifest in a way where he can pass for human when civilians and other heroes are around.
Which, understandable, really. Danny would also not let anyone know his kid was a ghost if he were Batman, after the Anti-Ecto Acts debacle and how long that’s been taking to clean up. Tall Dark and Paranoid would never let the government know his baby was dead, with that kind of nonsense going on.
He smashes the kid into the roof–gently, because he doesn’t want Batman getting the wrong idea if he’s in the area, but also not too gently because he doesn’t want to offend Robin by giving him the impression that he’s not taking him seriously. Robin yelps, then kicks him in the chest with both feet and actually knocks him back while simultaneously using him as a springboard to flip backwards and get some distance.
Talk about parkour, damn. Danny really is impressed.
not bad, he lets his core rumble approvingly, because Jazz has had some things to say about encouraging the baby ghosts–Jazz has a lot to say about encouraging the baby ghosts, in fact–and Robin’s thrums with laughter and delight and too slow too slow, keep up! Then the kid darts forward again, ducks under his arm, and twists around to elbow him in the back of the head. Danny lets out a snort of laughter and throws him off the roof. Robin laughs, and all those bat-winged shadows embrace him as he vanishes in a twist of the dark.
Not even the shadows. The dark.
Danny is definitely impressed, yeah.
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We know Konig is more soft on women, but is it all women in general? For example, if some girl was hitting on him, would he be rough with her? Would he ever kill a woman? (if he's on the battlefield - I'm guessing he would if he had to). Is he chivalrous to all women or just his partner?
Yes, König is absolutely super soft to all women in general 🌸
The thing is, women are an exception, a beautiful, pure anomaly in König's worldview. He both worships them and views them as fragile. Women need to be protected from all harm. And at the same time... König goes feral every time he gets to taste and touch and fu–ahem, make love to a woman.
CW: Toxic!König. Sexism. Mentions of canon-typical violence and PTSD. Freudian madness.
Something just snaps, and he doesn't want to hurt his Engel... but he's a bit ADHD, and far too needy, goes a bit crazy every time he sees her. Women's soft skin and plump breasts and hot, wet, silky folds drive him insane. He just wants to drown himself in a woman, hide somewhere deep, somewhere safe, but can't because he's so big and has to act all tough. If he could, if only he was allowed, he would fall asleep every night with his cock buried inside that beautiful, warm, velvet softness.
So König's deeply embedded insecurity and attempts to seek safety are a combination that make him a little unhinged when it comes to women. That's why he can never get enough 😔 Also this man's horrible childhood has made him an adrenaline addict. Chaos is what he's used to, it feels familiar, so there's a risk that König might never settle into safety even if he finds it. He needs a high (which means he needs to kill and he needs sex.)
Female operators are skilled and tough in his eyes, and he trusts their abilities (kind of), but he would always keep a silent lookout, and try to keep them safe. Even if those women looked at him like he's a weirdo. He would always choose to help a woman over helping a man. Men can and have to survive on their own if a lady is in trouble. I know this wasn't asked but He would also never, ever hurt children.
If a woman tried to kill him (on the battlefield) he would be very professional about it. He wouldn't find joy in the killing, though. As odd as it may sound, König would prefer shooting to stabbing when it comes to neutralizing a female target. He wouldn't want to prolong their deaths, and it would make him extremely uncomfortable to knife a woman down. If he has to, he will do it, but the kill would be as quick and clean as possible.
The ones König has killed linger on the precipice of his mind as precious memories, sick fantasies made real. But the women he kills haunt him forever: those deaths sometimes give him nightmares. Especially if they brought even the tiniest bit of satisfaction...
...Because König does go into a mode when he's left with a firearm. He's so excited he sometimes drops mags simply because he's so enthusiastic. Thrill and anxiety mix when he's working, and he feels absolutely marvelous every time he fires a gun and gets to announce "Target down" in the comms. Better yet if he can go on a spree and destroy a whole room full of villains. Noticing later that one or some of them were women would give him a cold feeling in the gut and leave him with a worsening PTSD.
If a woman was violent in other circumstances, meaning outside work/warfare, he would simply seize them as gently and firmly as he can and try to calm them down. König thinks hitting women is just wrong. Even if they were trying to hit him (hitting on, as in flirting with him, now that's a different thing hehe. Not sure if this is what you asked, if so let me know!). It's unmanly and cowardly, and he would kill any guy who hits women, and kill them without mercy.
König's traumatic childhood has put him on a knight's quest to protect all women and children from harm. His mother has greatly influenced the way he sees women overall. At the end of the day, they're creatures who don't know how to defend themselves so he needs to save them.
But then again... These 'Knight in Shining Armor' fantasies should be taken with a grain of salt.
Because seeing a woman under him in a helpless state, looking back at him with cute, wet eyes while he's lodged deep inside is the best thing in the world in König's opinion. He would never deliberately go and hurt a woman... But why then does it feel so good when Engel squeals every time he goes a little too deep? (Always on accident, of course.)
#answered#könig headcanons#yandere könig#könig x reader#toxic könig discourse will singlehandedly deny my access to heaven i just know it#i shall never see the pearly gates
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A King to Fear...
PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x Stark!fem!Reader
WORDS: 2,218.
SUMMARY: What you had intended to be a short, innocent trip to King's Landing, had turned into a bitter pleasure that would forever change the course of your life.
WARNINGS: thicc!aegon, infidelity [on Aegon's part], swearing, thigh riding, breeding kink, corruption kink, degradation kink, exhibitionism, p in v sexual intercourse, female receiving (fingering), brief mentions of cockwarming/creampie.
A/N - since the trailer dropped, the little glimpses we got of Aeg continue to haunt me and this is the product... I need this man to down me so bad, it's not funny anymore.
The chiming bells had rung a bellowing rhythm throughout the city. You felt as though the ancient, stone walls themselves shuddered from the distant echoes of the bells, shaking its very foundation, that Aegon, the Second of His Name, now roamed as the newly anointed King of the Seven Kingdoms.
His liege Kingsguard had rounded the spare subjects, yourself included, like shepherds tending to their frolicking herd. A part of you rooted inside, taunted at you for ever thinking it logical to leave Winterfell. Had Cregan received news of the scandalous outpour in the city, you were certain the wolves would be on the hunt... It was only a matter of when their arrival you had anticipated anxiously.
Hesitantly making your gradual way into the throne with the harrowing sound of scuttling feet, as you felt yourself confined in the centre of the bewildered crowd: every lord and lady by your side fearful of the King before them...
You had seen Aegon in passing before, during his days as a Targaryen Prince. You never found his looming presence to be threatening, nor intimidated by his appeal, often absent from royal events, or found drowning himself in his cups. Yet the young ladies of the court spoke often of his infidelity, that was all you could gather of the eldest Prince. Yet, in this precise moment, a different man sat atop the throne with might, and with his identical face.
Your gut viscously churned as your sole attention remained fixated on the young King. His hair had grown an inch longer, now resting atop his broad shoulders, his ruggedly handsome face looked fuller, as to match the sturdiness of his body. Mahaps, he grew to fit the heavy burden of the crown. He sat perfectly on the Iron Throne, as if the seat was made precisely in dedication to him. Those strange, alluring lilac eyes, remnants of the ancient ancestors of Old Valyria, remained visible as his stern eyes gazed upon his entering subjects. Rather than looking empty and sullen, as you had often remembered, there was a darker, more jeopardising tinge to their hidden intent.
"You stand before King Aegon, the Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. You have all been led to swear and declare your loyalties to the true King and heir of the Seven Kingdoms. Honour your King, and be rewarded generously... Or suffer the consequences of your treachery."
The uproar from the familiar faced, Dornish knight, Ser Criston Cole, sent an immediate wave of chills across your body. The familiar and other strange faces surrounding you began to anxiously peer, stretching from one another, as you all questioned the ordeal.
One by one, Ser Criston has called upon the noble houses, and those that stood present to come forth, some needing to be harshly pulled apart from the crowd, to make known. And one by one, some would see to it that the reward be mercy itself, whilst others, had been dragged away, in support of their loyalties and ties to Rhaenyra Targaryen.
The horrific sight before you, the terrifying screeches and screams of husbands and wives being separated, engraved into your saddened memory. You had completely grown oblivious to Aegon's silent presence, as his henchmen carried out his work.
It was only when the dark, booming echo of his voice, uttering the word "stop" had halted the commotion, an uneasy stillness filled the room.
"What of the North?"
The unseeing mention of home, had captured your attention fervently. As you turned towards the voice that spoke of your livelihood, you were met with the unfaltering gaze belonging to the King himself, his attention had already been fixated onto you, before the eyes of the room followed.
"Th-The North, your Grace?"
"Speak up to your King, woman!" Ser Criston Cole's voice boomed, an aggressive passion seeping through his words.
"I-I have no control over the judgement of the North your Grace, nor their fealty to the throne... I am merely a woman of the North."
"You are not Cregan Stark's younger sister? The beloved she-wolf of the North, that as I have heard, every man has pined and fawned for? Every Northern man, boy and bastard born has sworn to protect with their lives... It is you that, am I to believe, has no indifference with the North?"
Your anxious breath hitched in your throat, struggling to compel the words from your stuttering lips, that would ultimately determine your fate. You felt the dire wish for Cregan and his pack of wolves to burst through the grand, oak doors, ready at arms to savour your life. Those sworn men that Aegon had mentioned, were absent and you felt petrified.
"Y-Your Grace, I-"
"Everyone, out! Except for the she-wolf of the North."
"Aegon-" The sternly still tone of his grandsire, the Hand, Otto Hightower, proclaimed from the foot of the steps. Witnessing the exchange of their grim stares, almost convinced they had exchanged heated words telepathically, did his Grandsire finally retreat defeatedly, disappearing into a door in some narrow corridor. His Kingsguard were the last to leave, Ser Criston in particular, as he took the responsibility to body search you for weapons at arms. Your elder brother had from time to time introduced you to such weapons, yet you felt no obligation to soak in the training, and with your racing mind and empty hands, you had no hope to fight your way out of this.
The sudden shudder of the doors creaking close, sent your body into a complete state of suspense, frosting up like frozen petals during the winter.
"So it is true, I see. That your beauty was captivating enough to lure men to seal their fate. A fate to protect your own greedy, little life... Where are these men now to save you from me?"
Your eyes darted from the stony, grey steps of the throne, back to the hefty King that sat atop the violent throne. You felt his lilac orbs swallowing you whole, as your stomach churned uneasily against his words, desperately holding your hands together ever so tightly to avoid the terrible habit of fidgeting.
"The whispers that reach your ear from the North, your Grace, can be skewered. As I said before, I hold no power over the council of men... Even in the North."
"Do not toy with me, woman... I am the King, the rightful heir by law, and by the Gods. I want to hear where you stand in judgement of my reign."
"My opinion is not credible, your Grace. I-I hold no value here-"
"Answer me- Or I will fuck the answer out of you."
A flustering heat waved over you, as the sudden outburst and intent of Aegon's carnal words sparked an interest in you, snatching your complete attention once more.
"I-I cannot say I extend the pledges taken by my ancestors to heart. I do not know you, my Grace, nor do I know of your kin... I-I take a more... liberal approach."
"Get up here-"
Instead and wrongfully so, you felt your feet shifting backwards, taking slow paces back, adding more distance between yourself and the man who calls himself King. The chill in his tone felt colder than the blizzards of the North.
"Now."
Your thoughts had swayed to their senses, as your body became intact with your mind once more. Rather than ignorantly disobeying, you adhered to Aegon's command, taking hesitant step by step paces up the stony steps until you were a step beneath his Grace. Admiring him this up close, in finer detail, you noticed the faded scars across his supple face: unlike his younger brother, Aegon was much fuller, less lean. He had a bulkier build, and a more threatening, uneasy appeal.
"Wrong answer.... It seems the she-wolf has met her match with the dragon."
Aegon subtly reached over, pulling you strongly in by the arm, closing the last remaining distance between, as you felt his touch beneath your sensitive skin. He remained seated, almost as if he had been forged to the Iron Throne, as his hungry eyes lurked over every inch and detail of your body, before meeting your gaze peering wearisomely down above.
"Is the she-wolf scared? Does the dragon frighten her so? She need not be... Dragons protect the ones they take a liking to-"
Immediately, without a second to spare, Aegon began to hike up her lush silk gown, guiding her body to turn around, as she looked onwards from his royal perspective.
"Y-Your Grace, y-you are married-"
"Stay quiet, or I'll have that smart mouth of yours stuffed shut with my cock, balls deep in your mouth. You speak when I fucking tell you to-"
Once more, your mind instinctively shut, body mindlessly obedient to his demands.
Guiding your bare ass and cunt to seat itself down atop of him, you felt the hard, tense bulge brewing beneath his pants, between your cheeks. With each adjusting motion, your body would grind against his sturdy lap, your flesh colliding with his, only to cause a natural urge to crave for more.
"Look at what the she-wolf has done to her King, look at the power your sheer presence has over me. You think you have no value in court, yet this is your doing..." Aegon's warm breath, cooing his words directly into your ear. His strong, fleshy arms wrapped around your shaking body, coiled firmly around your waist and arms, as if to avoid you from escaping his strong grasp.
"What if I have my way with you, and send you back to the North carrying my bastard seed... What will the North think of their precious she-wolf then, hmm? What will your brother think of you?"
In unison with your King's haste movements, Aegon stood himself as he swiftly undid his trousers, his rigid, thick cock plunging out with excitement. Guiding his cock with one hand between your folds, his fingers ever so lightly grazing between as he teased your opening, making certain he aligned himself perfectly to your sweet spot.
"Already soaking for me, sweet one? It seems I have my answer after all."
Without so much as a second to spare, Aegon thrusts himself deep inside, burying his stiff, throbbing mass as your walls clench over his cock, desperate to ease the stretching tension. One muscular arm remained snaked around your waist, his calloused hand managing to reach to your bosom, where he cheekily squeezed and firmly kneaded your tit by the handful. Keeping you positioned steady as you sloppily bounced on his wide lap. His other hand however, oblivious to your own incoherent mind, to the front of your cunt, his pudgy digits teasing at your clit, pursuing to edge you more, enhancing the pressure that pulsated from inside. Your swollen bud, he intently enjoyed flicking at, earning a grizzly snicker each time you moaned and squirmed in retaliation.
"A fucking mess for me already. If only your dear, stupid brother could see you. The whimpering whore that you are, moaning my name like that. Accepting me as your King."
"A-Aegon-"
"Seven Hells, you feel so fucking tight for me, precious girl. A cunt made just for her King, already so obedient, so frightened of her King, she'll let me fuck her senseless, huh?"
"Hmm, A-Aeg. I-I shouldn't-"
"B-But you want this, baby. I can smell your ooze dripping. So fucking wet. A she-wolf as my pet. Where is the North to save you now? You don't want to be saved, though, look at you!"
"Mhmm- Your G-Grace-"
His thick fingers delved deeper, pumping hastily as his thrusts grew more forceful. Your breathless moans, incoherent besides a few words and his name, you could only build the sheer strength to muster. Your skin felt as hot as the summer wind of the city, Aegon's lips found themselves latched to your mottled hair and sweat-beaded skin. Sucking your very scent in, your taste lingering in his mouth, as he lowly growls.
"No-No, say it- Introduce me as you would your King."
"Hmm- A-Aegon, the S-Second of his N-Name-"
"That's it, sweet girl. Say it all."
"K-King of the A-Andals, the R-Rhoynar a-and the F-First Men. L-Lord of the S-Seven Kingdoms- Ugh A-Aeg-"
"Keep going, baby-" His tone thick and heavy, breathless, his own stocky chest heaving intensely in sync with your own breaths.
"A-And P-Protector of th-the R-Realm."
"That's it, b-baby. Such a good-good job, princess."
With his tender, soft-spoken words, Aegon's warm seed spills into you feverishly, a crescendo of mindless moans escapes your soft, moist lips, as Aegon's wetly coated hand leaves your raw, aching cunt, guiding your head to turn towards him. Meeting your lips with his own, as he seals the ecstasy with a passionate kiss.
"Let me taste you-" His tongue hungrily laps up the remnants of your cum off his thick digits, his alluring eyes shut as he blissfully devours your taste.
"Fucking delicious, they don't make them like the North do... Stay on my cock, princess. Be the good, little whore you are for me. My she-wolf will obey me and stay. I want to make sure you swell with my dragon seed before I send you back to the North."
general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer
Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11
credit for dividers - @/itbmojojoejo
#aegon ii targaryen#tom glynn carney#aegon ii targaryen imagines#aegon ii targaryen imagine#aegon ii targaryen fanfic#aegon ii targaryen fanfiction#king aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii x fem!reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii x stark!reader#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd imagines#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction
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haunt me like the wind that blows
Feysand x f!Reader
(part two) (part three)
Summary: She yanked her hand from his grasp, taking a few steps backward. The fight was futile, there was no winning in this scenario, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: dark feysand, abusive relationships, mentions of injuries, stalking, mention of suicidal ideation, yandere maybe?, not proofread, blood, death/murder
A/N: mind the warnings!
It had been one year, two months, and five days since she left. She counted every single one, because every single one was filled with memories of their love, their lies, and the fear they might find her. And what might happen when they do. If, she told herself, if they do. Something in her gut, maybe an instinct, told her it was inevitable they would find her someday. But she held onto the hope, the possibility that after a year they would give up.
She ran as far as she reasonably could, to a small and barely known village in the mountains of Vallahan- one that welcomed her without question. She disguised her accent and her magic hid the presence of the mating bond. In the state she showed up in - shaking, pale, and underfed from weeks of rough travel, nobody questioned her. She used a vague backstory - escaping a bad relationship, being raised in a poor family, working as an herbalist. All of those facts are true, and she fed just enough information to escape suspicion.
Still, she knew if any of them thought she was the mate of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, they’d turn her over to them without any question. People's goodness only ran so far.
They told her they loved her, but kept her so tightly under key that she suffocated. Friends she’d had for years, suddenly felt the need to move away from Velaris. She managed to keep her own business for a few years.
First, they started telling her she didn’t need it, not with them there to provide for her. She told them she liked it, enjoyed working. That satisfied them for a while, until Feyre came in at the end of the day, finding a male flirting with her as she tried to deflect his attention.
Rhys was there in seconds and she watched in horror as he died on the floor of the shop she built from the ground up. No matter how much she begged them, pleaded for them to stop, they wouldn’t and blood pooled across the floor, soaking into the wood. All traces of blood were removed, all evidence of the male's existence, but she knew it was there, and scented it each time she entered.
She shakily held on to it for a few months. They started mentioning things that happened during her day - things they weren’t present for, and she realized they either sorted through her mind or had somehow hidden themselves in her shop. They showed up from time to time and she never had any idea when they would. Anxiety filled her each day, and she started working on building her mental walls - in secret, hoping it would help her compartmentalize and shove some of that fear down.
They commented how she looked worn down at the end of each day, how bags started forming under her eyes, how she grew more skittish. All things she knew, but hearing them stung. They convinced her working was too much, that it was her job affecting her health.
Eventually, they gave her an ultimatum. Quit and sell the shop, or we’ll make you. But, an ultimatum implied having a choice - that there would be two different endings, and in this case both scenarios ended the same way. The next day, fliers for sale went up and the shop sold quickly, being prime real estate in Velaris.
She watched as the door was painted over - yellow instead of blue, and changed to a small clothing boutique. She wondered if the new owners felt that male presence. One who tried to flirt with the wrong female at the wrong place and time. Innocent flirting, flirting that meant nothing to her but cost him his life.
The first time she threw mental walls up around Rhys, finally recognizing the gentle caress of him slipping inside, he ripped them down brutally. She was left with a headache and hand shaped bruises littering her backside for a week.
They mixed their love for her with lies. How they were protecting her, how they did it for her benefit, that all they wanted was for her to be happy.
The happy memories haunted her the most, the ones of flights between mountains - both with Rhys and Feyre. Wind whipping through their hair, the smiles on their faces as they pointed out various things, the skyline of Velaris from above.
Now, each brush of the wind against her skin felt like a threat from them. Every audible beat of a bird’s wing made her shudder. It took a while for her to stop hiding when she heard them, or when the wind swept in a strange direction.
She debated her decision every day. But, every time she took a walk through the mountains, interacted with someone new, created a different kind of tonic or poultice, she felt the freedom rush through her. The right decision, a decision she would make again if she had to. No matter how much her soul tore from being separated from her mates, she’d chosen herself. Maybe not happiness, but freedom. She'd never chosen them, the Cauldron put them together and she reminded herself often it doesn't mean they're a perfect match.
-
A knock sounded against the door and she cursed. The book was reaching its climax after five hundred pages of slowly building plot. It was late - almost sundown in the middle of summer, but she never knew if it was someone needing some kind of tonic or healing herbs and a sense of guilt motivated her to always answer the door. Another thump of fist on wood drew her from her thoughts, sending her rushing from the door, her page quickly marked with a random scrap of paper.
She undid the lock, swinging the door open. Her heart beat rose so quickly she thought she might pass out. After over a year, Rhys stood right outside her door, hands tucked into his pockets. He’d hidden his scent, and put the strongest damper on his power possible. Still, a dark storm raged in his eyes upon seeing her.
Futily, she tried to slam the door, but a small wave of darkness shoved it back open. She didn’t try to scream, anyone she attracted would probably end up with their minds wiped - or dead.
“Good girl.” He murmured when she stepped aside. She swallowed harshly as he entered, his eyes scanning the room. It was over. Her year of freedom was over. The High Lord of the Night Court found her, deep in the mountains of Vallahan, a village not even marked on maps.
“You need to go.” Her voice was hoarse and shaking, betraying her fear.
He let out a dark chuckle. “No,” his hand shot out quick as an asp, grasping her wrist to pull her close to him. His thumb traced over her bottom lip. “I won’t be going anywhere without you.”
She yanked her hand from his grasp, taking a few steps backward. The fight was futile, there was no winning in this scenario, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. “I want you to leave. Leave me alone.”
His amusement faded. “You’ve always been a stubborn brat.”
Her body shook with fear and rage. How dare he come in here, barge in on the life she created, and try to rip her away. “Go.” She pointed to the door. “I don’t want you, either of you." She knows Feyre is probably listening, watching in through his mind.
The last sentence was a lie. Her body and soul wanted them, yearned to be with them, but she fought it at every step, and he knew it. “Liar,” he purred and she felt power begin to rumble from him. Anger was loosening his control.
She tilted her chin up, clenching her fists at her side. “I don’t want you more than I want my freedom.”
“Freedom?” He tilted his head. “Being with your mates is a privilege. So many don’t find theirs or don’t have one - let alone two.”
A privilege. That was new. “I don’t care,” she spat, stepping around to open a path to the door, a path for him. She threw up every mental barrier she could, every bit of practice she’d put in every single day. If she left, it would be kicking and screaming and in her own mind. Sure enough, she felt him tapping against it - and saw the impressed expression that crossed his face, quickly overtaken by rage. Rage that she locked him out.
He somehow mastered it, and strolled over towards the couch, picking up the book she left, twisting it over to read the description. Having him in here felt like a violation. But - his current distraction could help. She slowly backed towards the door, reaching her hand out to grab the door knob - only met with a shield that stung her fingertips. She hissed, sucking her fingers in her mouth to try and get rid of the burn.
“I told you I won’t be leaving without you.” Rhys’s voice was mild. A mild she recognized - the same tone of his voice before he murdered that male for flirting with her, for touching her arm. A particular tone that haunted her nightmares. “I can give you five minutes to grab whatever you’d like, or we can go now.”
Now, with nothing but the clothes on her back. Her own magic wasn’t strong enough to rip through his, and she already knew he’d cast a shield to keep her from winnowing away. Gods, she should have winnowed the moment he haunted her doorstep.
“I thought you would stop looking,” she stalled, trying to buy herself time to figure something out.
“You’re foolish.” Foolish. Like she was some child in need of scolding. He glanced at the clock hanging above her fireplace. “You have four minutes.”
“Why do this? Why drag me back?” She questioned.
“Because you’re ours. You’re part of us.”
“I don’t want to be.” Y/n snapped, her temper finally flaring.
Rhys’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tone.”
“What good will that do me?” She laughed hysterically, “this all ends the same way.”
“You could make it less painful for yourself.”
There would be pain - there would be hell to pay, she knew that, and knew they had a plethora of ideas for how to make her pay for this. She could think of one way, only one way to escape. A permanent freedom from them, until they found her in the next life … her eyes glanced at the knife ten feet away, on her kitchen table.
Her shields must’ve dropped for just a moment, because Rhys’s voice reverberated through her mind, "absolutely not". But, his voice tinged with fear. A sick sort of satisfaction came over her after she shoved him out, that she could put some kind of fear in him, no matter how sickening the circumstances or reasons.
“Two minutes,” he hissed, “but I’m done waiting.”
She didn’t move quick enough to escape his grasp. His grip was painful as he winnowed them, a series of jumps all the way back to the Night Court, back to her gilded cage, her shiny prison.
#acotar fic#feysand x y/n#feysand x reader#dark!feysand#poly!feysand x y/n#poly!feysand x reader#rhysand x y/n#rhysand x reader#feyre archeron x y/n#feyre archeron x reader#I need to stop writing and sleep why is this coming out of my brain
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Hello there!! 👋 I was just curious to know if I could maybe get a angsty/comfort one shot of Sun Wukong from Lego Monkie Kid? The gender of the reader can be neutral. Could you do a scenario: Where it takes place after the events of the LBD? Wukong hasn’t been himself and keeps pushing himself a lot more. The reader notices this and confront him about it.  He keeps denying that their is anything wrong.  But when the reader keeps nagging him, maybe he like a snaps at them and than says something he doesn’t mean? and then eventually he feels really bad and  apologizes to the reader, and just says that he feels like he wasn’t strong enough to protect them? Sorry if this is to long at all.😅
a/n : I genuinely like this idea, also thanks for the request!
𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐊𝐀
(n.) a dull ache of the soul, a sick pinning, a spiritual anguish.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
warnings : angst/comfort, mental breakdown, yelling, arguments, cussing, established relationship, mentions of gruesome nightmares.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
Something was wrong with your boyfriend. He’s been acting weird ever since the defeat of The Lady Bone Demon. At first, it wasn’t obvious. It was subtle shivers and looks at you, that you never noticed. Then he started to put himself in harm’s way. Pushing himself despite the fact that he was still recovering from being possessed.
The whole group was worried. And you being a very concerned partner, kept inquiring about what was bothering your boyfriend. But every time, he pushed you away. He was getting more and more distant. You’ve noticed the bags underneath his eyes and the way his eyes were slightly red.
Which led you to the position you were in at the moment.
“Love?”
Your concerned voice rung through the air like a bittersweet melody. Wukong winced as he kept his back to you. His fur was damped around his eyes, he didn’t want for you to see him like this. He felt weak, and pathetic.
“Love, please answer me.”
He stayed silent as he couldn’t look at you. Cause every time he does, he’s reminded of that gruesome nightmare. Of you covered in blood,gasping for air as you laid in his arms. He bites back a sob as the feeling of helpless and pain threatened to show. He was holding back everything but he couldn’t help but be annoyed at The Lady Bone Demon. She may be dead but she still haunted his head.
“Love—“
His annoyance reached its peak as he remembered how the demon would mock him using that pet name of yours. He turned around quickly, causing you to stumble back. His fur puffed up as his tail lashed around.
“Gods can you shut up! You’re so annoying!”
In that moment he saw the demon but soon that vision burned as he realized who he was actually talking to. His peaches, shaking and on the verge of tears. He opened his mouth to speak but she left the house in a heartbeat. He couldn’t help but feel as if someone had ripped his heart out. He couldn’t speak and could barely breathe.
Oh, what had he done.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
You hastily entered your room. You had tears streaming down your face as your body shook while you sobbed. You held onto the wall as you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You cried. Your heart was screaming in pain that you’ve never felt before. This wasn’t physical pain but it was rather mental and emotional pain. It hurt far worse than any wound you’ve ever received.
What had you done wrong? You understood that you were possibly being a little pushy but you had just been so concerned about him. He had just been possessed by a demon. He had to be suffering mentally. And even if he was immortal, he shouldn’t push himself too far.
Although, he hadn’t expected for him to lash out at you. It stung. A lot. You couldn’t help but look outside. It was nearly dawn. Fuck. You felt your gut twist. You had taken the long route home when you were in your desperate want to get as far away from him as possible. That alone and taken you an hour.
You push yourself off the wall as you walk into your bedroom. You fall onto the bed limply, burying your face into one of the pillows. Unknowingly causing you to fall asleep.
Not even a three hours later however, you awoke to a knock at your window. Peeking from the pillow, you can see a frantic Wukong holding something in his hands. You sit up and you eyes finally register what he’s holding. It was a bag holding food from your favorite restaurant and a banquet of your favorite flowers.
Deciding to hear him out, you get up and opened your window. In a flash he wrapped his arms around you, the food and flowers held by his tail. He hugged you as if you would fade away from existence.
“Peaches, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said.”
His words came out so fast that you didn’t hear whatever else he said. He looked up at you with regret and sorrow in his eyes. He held you close to his chest as he kept muttering apologies. His heart was breaking at the sight of your red eyes, he hadn’t meant to make you cry.
“Wukong,”He perked up at your voice, “I’ll forgive you, if you tell me what’s going on.”
His heart sank at your words. But he didn’t want to lose you, the best thing in his life. So he agreed. He sets the food and flowers on your dresser before you both sat down on the bed. Well, you say down. He was laying down with his head buried into your stomach.
“I’ve been having nightmares, ever since what happened. They all follow the same pattern. That demon possessing me and you dying by my hands. She would mock me by using the pet name you always call me. So when I yelled at you, I thought I was yelling at her.”
He looked up at her with remorse as he spoke. Your heart ache as you wondered why he didn’t tell you this. But you understood, it was an habit of his that you both were working on. For reasons such as this.
“And it just made me feel powerless. As if I’m too weak to protect you. After all, I had harmed you when I was possessed. I was too weak to resist that demon’s hold.”
It all made sense now. The nightmares were stemming from guilt. You rain your fingers through his fur soothingly as you spoke.
“Oh Love, that wasn’t your fault though. You tried your best.”
“Well my best wasn’t good enough,” he mutters before you pull him up so that you were eye level.
“You’ve saved me countless times. Not matter what, I trust that you’ll always save me if I’m in trouble.”
You kissed his nose before smiling softly at him. His eyes brightened as he smiled at you. He hugs you tightly once more, his tail wagging as he nuzzled your cheek.
“Now, let’s eat and then we can cuddle.”
“Yes, peaches.”
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Part 2 of the Nesta gets sick, acofas re-write thing
This is not my best work honestly. It's more of my quick writing. But you know what? It is what it is. Not everything can be a masterpiece and I should post things even when I don't think it's perfect. Keeps me humble and keeps me brave. This was a pep talk for me.
Part 1
~
The icy wind scars his face, but it's a small form of torture. Her name sits on his tongue, but he has yet to see if the mountains will hear him or if the people of Velaris will point the way.
Which tavern? Which music hall? Which book store? Which person's bedroom will he find her in?
How drunk will she be?
Cassian wishes he was drunk right now, but...
Has he ever been sober since he's seen her face?
Cassian sees her and the words spill out his mouth. Nothing honest--no. If he were telling the truth, he'd have sunk to his knees. Human, fae, or... death.
She breathed life back into him.
Now Nesta's being haunted by her thoughts, drinking them away, so they may be silenced, so the ice on his face--the piercing slice of winter, is a small price to pay. A small sacrifice. A small revenge for he deserves more than this.
"Nesta!" he yells, but Cassian's sure the wind swallows his call, howling like a wolf to the moon.
Cassian doesn't like the thought of her traveling in this. The city is bright, but he's unsurprised that many of the businesses are closed. It is a holiday after all. Thankfully, the taverns are alight with patrons and noise. He's almost glad it's open if only to offer Nesta reprieve.
Because she isn't at home when he knocks on her door. He can't sense her at all. Cauldron knows her apartment must not have good heating, or at least the door felt as cold as ice. Quiet and mocking. For that alone, Cassian's sure she'd be somewhere here.
So which tavern will it be?
He clenches his fist, but he tells himself it's to warm them and not because the thought of her uncared for goads on his nerves. Not because the thought of her cared for in another's bed makes him want to gut someone brutally.
"We haven't seen her, my lord," the barkeeper says.
"Cassian," he quickly corrects, though he knows none of the workers will do as he asks, formality running heavy throughout town.
"We haven't seen her in a couple of days actually," a younger fae, who offers to pour him a drink, notes. "She usually sits right over there, nearest to the musicians. They've been traveling, you see, so perhaps she's tried another tavern."
"We hope she comes back, my lord. Our high lady's sister is always welcome."
Cassian is sure she is, since he's seen the bills collected on her behalf. "Do you know where she might be?"
The barkeeper shrugs, "maybe Blue Mill? Have you tried the Wolf's den?"
"She's not there," he says, though Cassian offers his thanks and moves on to another tavern down the way, much tamer than the last.
Nesta's not at that one either. The snow sprinkles down and it packs the ground in deep white. He can feel it in his boots.
Where can Nesta be?
Perhaps, he should have told Azriel to send his shadows, but he does what he knows, so he shoots to the sky, not bothering to think about how much his wings will ache from this weather.
He doesn't know how long he searches, before something starts eating at his gut. Something pokes and prods at his chest. Something is not right.
Something is terribly wrong, and it is not this storm or the sting against his wings. It's not the fact that the city sings even from above, as if nothing but him can sense this.
Nesta is nowhere in sight.
She's not at the bridge, the taverns, the trail to her house, the walk to the bookstores, along the Sidra. There is nothing that says that Nesta lives here, all he sees is white.
White is the color of death, he finds, and something morbid calls him forth.
Nesta. Nesta. Nesta.
He thinks the wind calls her name, an echo of his voice. A chant. Cassian thinks of death gods. Of monsters. Of villainous people.
What is happening to her?
Why can't he find her?
Cassian circles the mountain, pulling at his hair.
There.
A scarf circles around a lamp post and it looks like the one Elain gifts to Nesta for her birthday last spring. Light blue and waving hello, come find me, I need you. When he grasps it, Cassian can catch the slightest whiff of her scent.
"Nesta," he calls, peering at the space as if she'll come out of hiding. He sees piles of snow, no footprints in sight. All he can smell is wind and winter and cold. "Nesta!"
He finds a shroud near the stairs, her head lying against the stone. Touches of brass and pale skin. Snow has already begun to pile on her body. A blanket of white. A funeral.
"Nesta," he gasps. "Nesta. Nesta!"
She is so perfectly silent, it fills him with dread.
"Talk to me, Nesta," he demands as he grasps her shoulders, and then her hands, blowing into them as if that my warm her from the inside out.
Her cheeks are a budding pink and her lips are tinged in blue. Cassian thinks of death, corpses, and pale flesh. He can't help it. Nesta lays so still, he wants to throw up.
Her heart beat is faint, but Cassian thinks it might just be the wind drowning out any noise. At least he keeps repeating that to himself, because pulling out his own won't help hers beat louder or stronger.
"I'm going to take you to the house," he says, though she doesn't make a sound. Nesta's head lulls into his neck as he holds her to his chest. Cassian's surprised to find a touch of warmth at her skin and for that he sends a thousand thanks to the Mother.
"I've got you Nesta," he says, kissing at the top of her head without thinking. "I've got you."
I'm never leaving you alone, again.
~
You see I have a very good memory, so I had this book series memorized like the back of my mind. But then I went into a PhD program, and brain dumped it all. SO I cannot remember some details or at least I can't remember which things happened in what book... just like SJM ( LOL ). So if this is not bookly accurate, just ignore it. Nothing about this is bookly accurate anyway.
Also this is hella dramatic. I should have really just started off with... he found her with no explanation... which is what I usually do. But I tried to give explanation. And... it's dramatic. But whateva.
You'll see her actually sick in the next part.
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need you now
agent whiskey x f!reader (one shot)
warnings: feels, sweet jack, teasing, yearning, age gap, drinking, reader is a 'cool girl' who drinks whiskey and beer, retired!jack, oral (f receiving), drunk sex, cliff hanger...maybe, sorry!
word count: 3,228
inspired by: need you now by lady a
“Come on! It will be fun, there's cute cowboys there!”
You sighed. You liked quiet bars, not ones like this loud and rowdy one that your friends wanted to explore. You lived in a small town in Georgia and were used to the quiet life of it all. “I just don't know if that's my scene, guys.”
“It's my birthday, please? For me?” Your friend gave you her fake puppy dog eyes that always seemed to get her what she wanted.
“Fine… but I'm not dancing!”
“Yay! At least you're going, that's all I can ask for!”
—---
You walked into the bar with your best friend and her friend from high school, your small group making your way to a high top table. The bar was one of the bigger ones of your town but it was still quite small of a building. The dance floor, tables and bar were all pushed fairly close together and every single part was crowded with people. It was a Friday night so that would explain the crowd as you secure your table and get settled.
“I'm gonna grab us a drink!” you yelled slightly over the music and the other girls were already spying on a group of men nearby. You weaved your way through the mass of bodies, mostly smelling of sweat or alcohol. You reached the bar and flagged down a bartender. “Hey, can I get a Corona and two margaritas please?”
The bartender nodded and turned to grab your beer out of the fridge and gave it to you before going to make the margaritas. You leaned on the bar and looked around while waiting on the drinks and turned to your left to find a pair of brown eyes already looking your way. The brown eyes were accompanied by soft looking lips and a black Stetson. The subtle lines on the corner of his eyes told you he was not your age but attractive nonetheless. He had that classic southern handsome face that just made butterflies erupt in your gut. Looking at him felt like looking at the sun. He cracked a charming crooked smile at you and couldn't stop the same from happening to you.
“Well, hello pretty lady,” the slight drawl in his voice made your heart stop. You could immediately tell he was a classic womanizer, he knew how to get into a woman's pants faster than you could blink. You wouldn't be so easy.
“In your dreams,” you turned back toward the bar, watching the bartender make the drinks.
“Oh believe me, you are sugar.”
This fucking guy.
“Be a little original, then we can talk,” the bartender set your drinks on the counter and you handed him cash. You walked away before the cowboy could say another word.
Of course your friends had seen the man hitting on you and begged for you to go back there. You refused, telling them how you knew his type.
—--
“He’s the type to fuck you and never talk to you again.”
“Maybe you need that! Maybe you need a good fuck.”
She kind of had a point, you hadn't had almost any intimate human contact in a while and he was hot. You weren't really the hookup type but maybe you wanted to be but at this point you were four– no, five beers in and not really caring. You looked around and found the man leaning against the bar talking to a small very annoying looking blonde girl. With a new found courage, you marched your way over to the tall man, was he this tall before?, his attention quickly turning to you.
“We’re dancing.”
You weren't asking, you were telling him. His attention was long gone from the other girl and she was clearly annoyed as he followed you out on the dance floor. As you wove your way through the crowd, he grabbed your wrist, not in a possessive way but enough to make you turn and he spun you into a gentle hold. The two of you spun and laughed as the song continued, hands roaming bodies and cheeks pressed together.
“What's the name of the woman who will haunt my dreams?” You almost wanted to keep up the charade, make him work a little harder. “What name should I moan while I touch myself tonight?”
You nearly collapsed right then and there. Your eyes snapped up to look at him, meeting his that were already darker than before. You practically lunged forward, your face crashing into his, lips melting into each other, tongues fighting for dominance. His hands never stopped in their exploration of your form, one holding the back of your head, never letting you come up for air.
His lips were next to your ear now, his breath warm on your skin. “Wanna get out of here?”
Normally you would never go home with a stranger but there was something about him, and the many beers in your system, that told you to go for it. You found your friends and asked them if they were ok with you going with him, which of course they encouraged. You walked outside the bar to find the mysterious man leaning against his passenger side door of his old Bronco. You haven't felt this way in a long time, you were almost giddy. He made you feel giddy.
“Ready sugar?”
“Hell yea,” he opened the door as you hopped into the convertible and he started the engine. It was a warm summer night in Georgia and the breeze made you feel like you were flying. The radio was playing some sweet country song as you drove through the empty streets late that night.
Every so often he would look over and see your face scrunched up in joy, throwing our head back on the seat singing along to the song playing. He had not intended to find someone so special tonight but here he was, feeling his heart stop when he saw you smile. You were beautiful of course, but there was something else there under the surface that he wanted to explore.
You looked up to find that he had parked on a small cliff overlooking the city, the stars on full display. You gasped as you saw the bright stars above you, expecting to end up at his place or yours.
“Jack. My name is Jack.”
You smiled and tested his name for yourself. “Jack…” your drunkenness made it hard to form words. You told him your name and watched his eyes dance on your face. You were both leaning into each other now, the bench seat preventing any barrier from separating you two. His hand caressed your cheek, his large thumb stroking your skin. You couldn't help your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation, your skin felt like it was on fire. Besides the buzz from the alcohol, you felt light and content and you knew it was because of him. His lips were on yours again, everything fitting just right between you as you slid closer and felt the whole length of his body against yours.
You were starting to feel dizzy, and not from the beer. His presence was overwhelming, like the feeling in the air right before lightning struck. You breathed in his scent, a heady mix of burnt wood and whiskey. As your mouths finally separated, you saw the reflection of the low moonlight in his deep auburn eyes and you knew that he was going to mean more than just a one night stand. You just didn't know how yet.
—--
You smiled down at your phone seeing the name flash on the screen.
“Jack Daniels”
You couldn't believe it when he said that was his real name. The two of you had been texting all day every day for days now, since spending the night with him. You didn't sleep together but you did spend all night talking about everything under the stars.
2:08pm - Jack: Oh you better believe it sugar, I’m the best pizza maker there is.
2:11pm - You: Well, you'll just have to show me in person then.
2:11pm - You: Maybe tonight?
That was earlier that afternoon and you hadn’t heard anything since. It was hard not to be disappointed, you were having good conversation non-stop and to suddenly be cut off was weird. You tried to continue with your days without thinking of him but your mind kept wandering back to that charming man.
—--
It was almost midnight and you were restless beyond belief, not able to get comfortable or let your mind calm itself. You tossed and turned for hours until this point, finally deciding to go into the kitchen and find anything to help you sleep. You rummage through the cabinets and fridge and finally decide to pour yourself a drink, a strong one. The golden liquid swirled in the glass as you poured it, the scent hitting your nose immediately.
Perched on your kitchen counter, you emptied and refilled your class countless times until you were past tired and officially moved on to drunk. Scrolling mindlessly through social media was making your head hurt when you finally made it to your text messages. The name at the top of the screen made your heart sink.
1:14am - Jack: Hi sweetheart.
Fuck.
Nothing for almost a week and then this. What is he thinking? This isn't fair but at the same time you are just excited he texted. Your pulse was through the roof as your fingers ghosted on the keys, trying to find something to say back. Pacing back and forth in the kitchen proved difficult in your state. In a very spontaneous decision you dialed Jack’s number before your mind could catch up. It only rang once before you heard his beautiful voice come through the speaker.
“Darlin’?”
“J-Jack, hi.”
“What are you doing up?” He sounded so groggy and sexy over the phone.
“I-I don't really know,” you couldn't help the giggle that slipped out. “Couldn't sleep I guess.”
You both sat in silence for a while, wanting to say what you truly felt but afraid to disturb the peace.
“Ja–”
“Hon-,” you both spoke at once.
“Jack, I’m a little drunk… and, I need you…now,” you couldn't help the words coming out of your mouth. “You don’t have to… I ju– uhg. I’m sorry...”
“Stay right there and text me your address.”
You didn't really trust your drunk brain at the moment, but did as you were told and sent him your address. Anticipation was eating away at you in the time it took him to drive over. It felt too long and not long enough, you rushed to try and become presentable. You tore into your bathroom and fixed your hair and face as best as you could but you knew he wouldn't believe you wore makeup in the middle of the night so you steered away from the mascara. Your nerves were on fire as you prepared for Jack’s visit. You tried to tidy up your apartment as best as possible, throwing dirty clothes in the closet and hiding embarrassing things. Just as it dawned on you that this man is a perfect stranger, you heard a soft knock at the door. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tiptoed across the floor to the door. Suddenly the small shorts and large T-shirt you wore felt like not enough and too much all at once, but there was no time now. You paused in front of the door and took a breath to try and clear the fog in your head but you knew it was futile. The door creaked open to reveal a slightly disheveled but still very handsome cowboy, minus the hat.
You both stared at each other in disbelief for a moment, then he was on you. Pulling your face into a heated kiss, locking his lips onto yours. He could taste the whiskey on your lips and added that to the list of things he already adored about you. His body pushed against yours until you both hit the wall opposite the door, kicking it closed with his boot. The initial introduction stunned you, putting you in the mercy of this man's will, but now that you had your senses back, you could do what you had always wanted.
You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp and drawing moans from his chest. Your hands pulled at the cotton of his shirt and the jeans on his hips, trying to get his body closer. It was almost frustrating that you both still had clothes on and you pulled away to tell him that when he locked his arms around your thighs and wrapped them around his torso. You ended up on the couch, straddling his hips while never breaking contact with his lips. The alcohol in your veins was spurring you on, forcing your hips to grind into his. Every movement of your hips was drawing small groans from his chest and caused his hands to roam further on your skin.
“Oh God sugar… I- I have been thinking about y-you for days,” his voice was just above a breath.
“Jack…”
Before you realized, Jack’s sturdy arms flipped your body and your back hit the couch with a soft thud. You giggled as he kissed your face and neck, stopping to suck a mark into the spot right near your collarbone. The feeling of his lips was making your head spin and your toes curl, the arousal licking up your spine like a fever. You could almost feel your very soul surrender to this man, begging to be claimed by him. The slight scratch of his stubble somehow made his lips feel even softer as they danced across your skin. His tongue poked out to lick from the bottom of your neck up to your ear, your breath hitched as you felt his on your skin.
“Tell me… tell me you want this doll, or I can leave… please.”
You wanted nothing more in the world. “Yes God, Jack please.”
The sound of you begging for him made his cock jump. All he could think about since that night at the bar was how you would feel under him, what you taste like and how you could scream for him. He made quick work of pulling your shirt over your head to reveal your soft chest. His lips attacked the peaks of your breasts, causing the warmth to pool low in your pelvis.
He felt like a man possessed, he couldn't get enough of you. He wanted more, he wanted everything. He kissed his way down your body until he came to your thin cotton shorts, that you most definitely were not wearing with underwear. Your breathing skipped as he peeled the fabric off your legs and kissed you the entire way down. His lips were like fire on your already heated skin, blazing the trail to where he wanted you most. His hands and tongue found their way to your dripping center.
You were trying to calm your breathing as he slowly spread your legs and settled between them. You had never had a man take so much care in how you were feeling and how your experience was. It made your heart swell. The sight of his large body that was fully clothed between your legs made you want to cover yourself on instinct but his strong arms were holding your legs apart. His tongue made its way to your delicate center ever so slowly like he was trying to drive you mad. He finally circled around your sensitive clit, making you cry out in ecstasy. He worked his lips and tongue over you like you were his last meal. There was no denying this man knew what he was doing and wasn't afraid to show it.
You bucked your hips into him, trying to gain more friction, needing more than he was giving you. He was only using his mouth and you knew if he used his fingers you would be done for. As you ground yourself into his face, he sucked your bundle of nerves into his mouth and used his tongue to make you see stars.
“Jack, oh god please…” you whined as you anchored your fingers in his hair. “M-more.”
Suddenly you felt his mouth move away from you and you whined at the loss. You looked down to see his face covered in your slick, shining in the dim light. You blushed at the obscene sight. Just when you thought he was about to stand up and move up your body, he brought his hand up to his face and stuck his two middle fingers between his lips. Your mouth gaped open at the sight and a breathy moan followed when he circled those fingers over your center. He slowly pushed his digits into your wet core and you both groaned at the feeling.
“Mhmm, you're gonna feel so good baby girl,” his eyes roamed over your body, watching as you reacted to his movements. “But I want you to come for me first.”
Jack brought his mouth back down to your clit as his fingers started to curl into the spot inside you that made you see stars. He worked his mouth and fingers together, creating a rhythm that made you dizzy with lust. Men never did this, never put your desire first, no matter what they wanted. Jack was another story, he was clearly there for you and you alone. His fingers and tongue were moving in tandem, drawing pure pleasure from you. The pressure in your lower stomach was growing by the second, almost to the point of pain but you never wanted him to stop. He kept up his movements and knew you were close when your breaths came quicker and you tightened around his fingers. Jack was nothing if not a gentleman and he proved that tonight, making sure your pleasure came first. You rocked your hips into his face, grinding against him with your hands pulling his slightly curly hair. You climbed closer to your peak sooner than ever before, it was like this man had a spell over you, something that forced the pleasure from you.
“Fu-fuck, baby– I..I’m so…” you were officially mad with lust.
“I know honey, let go for me.” Jack’s voice was like honey, somehow drawing you closer to the edge.
He settled into a steady but harsh rhythm, almost moving the couch below you. You knew you were right there, right on the edge of the cliff about to fall off. The blood in your veins burned with pure passion.
Without much warning, your body ignited. Your orgasm ripped through you like wildfire, fast and sudden. Your lungs screamed for air and your vision went white. You dug your nails into his hair, locking him in place and he rode you through your high. The muscles in your core constricted around his fingers and your back arched to compensate for the intense feelings.
You had never cum like that in your life, ever. This man was like no one you had ever met.
“Fuck… what– what was that?,” your voice didn't sound like your own.
“Oh sugar… we're just getting started.”
------
MASTERLIST
#agent whiskey smut#din dijarin x reader#fanfic#reader fanfiction#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels smut#jack daniels#pedro pascal#din djarin#the mandalorian#din djarin smut#din djarin x you#star wars smut#star wars
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🎃🧛♂️ Trick or treat!! 🌹🎃
On this feral Halloween night, @sleepynerdy has been haunted by the spooky ghost @lady-guts, and they've left behind a treat!
From your ghost:
Hope you like it! Following the spooky season, the bonding portrait of Kinn Theerapanyakul and Porsche Kittisawat, the most powerful couple of Bangkok's underside.
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i love the pumpkin decor from anura and the skulls from silk cradle !! even though its not even close to halloween,,,(its always in my heart lmao) i was thinking about bishops (+narinder and/or labert, if your up for it) platonically with a child! black cat reader (who is kind of like in the spooky month skid and pump mindset LOL, but the town they grew up in, possibly outside the lands of the old faith, is very halloween-centered)
i hope this isnt too specific !!
Don't worry, Halloween's ALWAYS in my heart haha. I love those decorations too! And the ones from the blood moon ritual. Can't wait for that event again
.........
Heket
With pumpkin patches flourishing in her domain, it only makes sense for her to have celebrations and rituals surrounding the harvest season.
Yet she knows nothing of this "Halloween" you've rambled on about to her followers, nor why you became so excited upon discovering that Anura's environment reflects the autumn season.
That's because the town you're from is centered entirely around the holiday, with you living among ghouls, skeletons, demons, crows, and (of course) other black cats.
To you, every day is Halloween and you're loud and proud about it!
You introduced the idea of jack o'lanterns to Heket when she discovers you carving a pumpkin, sticking a candle inside after you gutted the entire crop, much to her confusion and annoyance.
"You there..why do you waste precious food?" She accuses, but you're completely oblivious to her anger.
"Where I come from, we always carve pumpkins! And we make cool things like this!" You show her your finished product: a Yellow Crown carved onto the face of the pumpkin. "I offer this to you, Lady Heket."
"I see, but...what am I to do with it?"
"You put it outside your home to ward off scary spirits! Like those who wanna wilt the crops!"
She had her doubts about these traditions of yours, but she grows to like this "jack of lantern" and puts it into effect almost immediately.
More followers join in, learning how to carve their own pumpkins and place them outside their homes.
It actually gives the incredibly superstitious and paranoid some comfort that they won't be haunted or plagued by negative spirits/energy.
Heket made a point to allow an overabundance of pumpkin patches during Halloween season so there's enough for both food and carving.
She also discovers people are willing to pay for the best-looking ones, so she allows the elders to run stands by the fields and make some coin.
Ofc, a good chunk of the profits go directly to her.
Shamura
Skull piles and skeletal decorations are commonplace in Silk Cradle, being trophies of wars and intimidating those who dared wander into their domain--grim reminders that it could be their own skull next.
You, however, find them nonthreatening as you've had similar decor back in your little town of Halloween (/ref).
Fake or not, you loved them all the same (plus the cobwebs, even though most are just part of the natural environment) and had to ask Shamura if Halloween was celebrated all year here, too.
Although their brain struggles to recollect things, they have books on holidays and their ancient origins..so they are aware it exists.
But it's not one they ever cared to implement.
Nevertheless, they permit you to decorate your home to your heart's content with whatever skulls and bundles of silk you found--as well as pumpkins shipped from Anura.
They're nicer to you bc you remind them of Narinder back in his youth, fascinated with the spooky and the taboo.
All the giant axe traps and toxic pits scattered throughout Silk Cradle never bothered you, as you've seen them back in the spooky dungeons of your hometown.
Usually the resident bugs would freak out any newcomer shelling in new traditions..but Shamura told them that you, specifically, are not to be harmed under any circumstance and that they allowed this.
You've actually befriended Hauras, sewing them a spidery Halloween cape for them in place of the gray rags they wore.
They wear it with pride to every sermon from there on, not caring who judges.
Kallamar
This bishop's paranoia is a force to be reckoned with.
Even if one hapless follower said the words "red crown" in any context, he'll strike them down for "preaching heresy". He's easily scared of the taboo and misfortune falling into his realm.
So Halloween is definitely the last thing he wants to hear about, especially with its association of black cats (who are in turn associated with bad luck and Narinder).
He keeps trying to shoo you away when you try explaining that's a common myth.
If he sees you using bones and skulls as decorations, he feels sick to his stomach and orders you to take them down.
Those can be used to forge weapons or intimidate potential dissenters! They're not yours to keep!!
Yet you never listen, oblivious to his demands as you try telling him they're harmless.
Would he ever punish you for disobeying with sickness or sacrifice?
No...or at least not at this stage in your life.
That would damage his already-fragile reputation as a leader even further.
But if you grew up into an elder and continued with these "twisted traditions", however, he'd punish you as retribution for the "torment" you've brought upon him.
He just wishes you'd follow his ways and his ways alone.
Fortunately for you, that retribution never comes as he's brought into Lamb's cult during your teen years...with you keeping the Halloween tradition alive and well.
And Kallamar has a more open mind now, although he's still easily spooked by the decor Lamb brings out during the Blood Moon Festival.
The first time he partakes in it, someone pranked him with a fake ear and it traumatized him so bad he cried and hid inside his shelter.
But you comforted him, forgoing the festivities and sharing your candy until he was okay.
You just show him how to carve a jack o'lantern for the remainder of the night, and he's in awe as it glows.
Every year since, Halloween becomes less and less scary for him--and it's all ironically thanks to you.
Leshy
As a young bishop, he's open to ideas for traditions, holidays, etc. for his followers to enjoy.
So when little kitty cat you hailing from a distant land of Halloween propose celebrating it...he's all for it!
The only problem is, well, his sight.
With the Green Crown, he can see the general forms of followers, his siblings, and most structures within Darkwood, but he wouldn't be able to see the tiny details that gave Halloween its magic.
But you explained how you could go for bigger and brighter things. Like jack o'lanterns (made of both pumpkins and turnips) and skulls of giant beasts!
He approves of it and lets you lead in decorating the village nearest to his temple.
Followers initially questioned why they had to listen to a child, of all folks, but they're grateful it's something genuinely fun.
From your town, you've also brought scented candles to really enhance everybody's spooky spirit.
Especially for your Lord Leshy, who finds the smells delightful.
The pumpkin spice ends up becoming his favorite.
You've got him completely fixated on this event.
Plus it's a good opportunity for chaos to reign: with followers pranking one other and scaring each other half to death, dressing up like ghouls and skeletons.
The Bonfire Ritual is one Leshy likes to conduct to boost both his strength and cult morale (he's gotta benefit from all of this somehow too, of course).
Lamb
Not only did Lamb's cult know about Halloween...but they also celebrated it with the Blood Moon Festival.
You fully participated in the ritual every year, rushing outside just in time to see the moon turn blood-red and the sky darken for several days.
The ghosts of deceased followers usually terrified the living, yet you greeted all of them with smiles, waving goodbye as Lamb exorcised them with their book.
Crows, cattle skeletons, and even demons flocked to the cult as well, having been residents of your hometown, too.
And the decorations?????
You were obsessed and jumping for joy, wanting to decorate your little shelter and help everybody else with theirs!
And of course you participated in the many activities going on, including bonfire rituals, apple bobbing, and passing out soul cakes (yep you had a recipe for that from your hometown, too).
One year, Webber showed up and was initially scared since everyone was just staring at them and the spiders scattered around their feet..
But you greeted them warmly, showing them around the cult grounds and what the festival was all about.
Lamb themselves is impressed.
You're only half the age of most of their followers, yet you're active and very responsible (although only if your tasks have anything to do with Halloween).
So as a gift, they bless you with a jack o'lantern necklace. Not only does it light up at night, but its magical properties allowed you to lift up any pumpkin no matter its size with ease!
You vow to carve the biggest jack o'lantern the Old Faith's ever seen.
#clanask#anonymous#cult of the lamb x reader#cotl x reader#bishop heket#bishop shamura#bishop leshy#bishop kallamar#cotl lamb#child reader#cat reader#platonic#headcanons#halloween
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You Are No Dragon (Aemond x Aegon x Reader)
This was challenging cause I had to correlating a lot of scenes in it but I hope I succeeded your expectations
“You are no dragon, you are the flame itself”
Daemon always liked to tease his eldest daughter (y/n), she was the result of Daemons and Laenas wedding night, “the siren princess” as the small folk sang for the princesses alluring nature, one stare to her dark lavender hues you would think you were engulfed by the ocean, slowly luring you in to drown you.
The princesses stubbornness knew no ends, she had inherited her fathers temper as well, the family would often reminisce to the distasteful reaction of (y/n) grabbing the queen by the hair when she pulled a dagger to threaten Rhaenyra after her mothers burial, (y/n) was not mad over the action she just found it disrespectful to turn such a grim event to a humiliation of their house.
“I will not stand for this, you are all acting like fools! Aemond lost an eye! I lost my fucking mother and I am exhausted! can we please just go to bed!”
She had yelled when she stood in between the queen and the princess, Daemon was the only one that approached his daughter while the others held their breath at the sight of the deranged girl who had the guts to do such an act.
“Come along my blood, you should rest”
-
“Well, I would say it is good to be back but I would be lying”
“Come on (y/n) we haven’t been back to kings landing for so long I am sure you will find something to keep yourself entertained”
Just like Gods had planned this particular moment, when Jace finished his sentence Aemond appeared from the main door of the red keep, it was bad enough to not have anyone welcome the future heir to the throne but to send the second son by himself was even worst.
(Y/n) did not mind though, watching Aemond walk down the stairs until he stood right ahead of the family had gained her attention, he was quite taller, broad shoulders and long silver locks, the eyepatch was her favourite part of him as part of the scar escaped from the accessory he had chosen to conceal it.
“My mother the queen apologises for not being able to welcome you back to the red keep, she has send me to escort you to your chambers”
“Tell your mother that sending her little pup-“
“Father please be polite I am sure prince Aemond has the best intentions, isn’t that right my prince?”
(Y/n) interrupted her father. Daemon knew his daughter like the back of his hand, she was the blood of his blood, she acted like him ever since he could remember and he took pride in that, his daughter was no lady, she was a true Targaryen warrior.
Aemond allowed his eyes to explore the princess, he had not seen her since he lost his eye, he had prayed to the seven that the inappropriate feelings that haunted him since he was a young kid had been buried, it only took one glance from her to make Aemonds heart beat like he had ran miles.
“Follow me please”
-
“Oh gods my apologies, I lost track of time while I was taking my bath”
(Y/n) hadn’t lost track of time, she just did not want to admit that she did not like any of her dresses so she alternate one of them, the result was good enough although the initial target was Aemond her goal swayed when she laid eyes at the oldest son, Aegon.
“Prince Aegon, how you’ve grown”
“I can say the same about you”
Aegon replied when his eyes scanned the princess and her choice of a gown, she had done it intentionally there was no doubt in his mind about that, on the contrary it pleased him to see his mothers disapproving eyes land on someone else for a chance.
“Glad you could join us my flame”
Daemon shared a smirk with his daughter to which she mirrored, father and daughter would often sense that words were unnecessary, their eyes said enough for them to understand.
The princess has come of age it was normal for a lady to start being interested in the opposite gender, Daemon would never force his daughter with wedlock unless she wished for it nor bring her shame in wanting to be desired because some pious septa said ladies should be unorgasmic shells of humans that there only purpose was to breed. Idiotic words spread by men who could never bed a woman so they decided to make them suffer by inventing demons and call it a sin when a woman feels pleasure.
As the supper went by rather smoothly (y/n) could not help but notice Aemond gawking at her, the honourable prince took pride in his ways, he was never interested in bedding women or chasing around whores, a man of discipline was now catching himself wondering what the princesses lips felt like as they were stained by the red wine she drank.
“A word before you leave?”
“Of course father”
One by one left the dinner table clearing the room for them to have some privacy, Daemon even waited for the servants to finish clearing the table until he spoke to his daughter.
“Aegon did not take his eyes off you”
“I could feel him burning holes against my skin”
“You noticed? I thought you were busy eye fucking the one eyed prince”
“Father I-“
“You do not have to lie to me, you are my blood I understand a girl your age raises questions, so who will answer those questions Aemond or Aegon?”
“I seem to have a little bit of trouble deciding”
“Greedy little thing, when I was younger my father put a few swords on the table and asked me to pick one, all of them beautiful and unique in their own way, I asked my father if I could practise with a different one everyday to help me make my decision”
“And what if… none of them were your final pick?”
“Good question, I hated all of them so I snuck into my fathers room and stole dark sister”
“Father are you suggesting-“
“I am not suggesting anything we are just discussing about… swords, you are young and full of life, don’t waste your stamina on one sword”
-
“Princess (y/n)?”
“Did I wake you my prince?”
“No I was just reading, is there something wrong”
“I could not find sleep, I was hoping if you could keep me company”
Aemond withheld his tongue, he simply moved to the side to signal permission of entering to the princess. A faint mischievous smile decorated her lips once she entered, the fire was doing wonders for the heat of the chamber, (y/n) was thankful for that since her choice of a nightgown was for the summer, if her visit went as she had planned she wouldn’t need it so it did not matter to her.
“Please have a seat”
“What were you reading?”
“A book of Aegon the conquerors”
“Isn’t that written in high Valyrian”
“I like to… practise”
Aemond lost composure fora quick second when he found the princess getting comfortable in his bed, he had dreamed of her in his bed, naked in between the sheets while he held her close, he could almost taste her as he wetted his lips with his tongue.
“I would love to listen to you read, why don’t you join me here with your book?”
Aemond hesitated at the request, she was toying with him for her entertainment, she was stepping in a territory that Aemond had been trying to escape almost all his life. A strange power overtook him and he found himself taking big steps to his bed and almost attack her lips with his, he made himself comfortable on top of her as the kiss deepened, (y/n) let out a small moan that to the princes ears it sounded like an Angel singing.
“Do you still want me to read to you?”
“I think I know another way to put your tongue in good use”
The urge Aemond possessed was immense, a tender lover that took care of the princess, worshipping every inch of her naked body decorating it with his kisses and gracing it with his soft touch.
(Y/n) rode him to the world of euphoria, Aemond was a mess of a man under her power, crumbling with every move and begging her to keep going, to Aemond a siren was nowhere near her, (y/n) reminded him of the dark tales of a succubus that fed off the energy of men during the act, a death so sweet was worth it to him, if his last memory was her face scrunch up from pleasure as the light of the fireplace licked her presence it would enough for him to die a happy man.
When she fell on top of him as the orgasm washed off her Aemond traced her back making goosebumps that caused her to shiver, all that could be heard was the panting of the couple that had worked on one another like it was their last day.
“Stay the night”
“You know I cannot do that, the servants will knock on the door before I can escape”
“Since when does the princess care about gossip”
“That i do not care about gossip does not imply I feed into it on a silver platter”
“Will you visit me again?”
“Mayhaps, rest well my prince”
-
“Prince Aegon”
“Missed me?”
“Not necessarily”
“I would say I am wounded however you probably feel like that because I have not given you something to miss”
“Yes you may come in, get comfortable”
She mumbled after prince Aegon had already taken the liberty to strut in her chamber like he owned it, well he kind of did since she was a “guest” in the castle that he lived permanently.
Aegon stopped when he reached (y/n)s vanity stand to pick up her perfume and spray some in the air to take a big whiff.
“That smell”
“If you are interested I can ask my lady in waiting to purchase a bottle for you”
“No I would rather get the scent off of you dear (y/n)”
“For a man with your reputation I never would have thought you were to shy to say things directly”
Aegon left the bottle back in its spot when he heard her steps closing in on him, his back still against her still that did not discourage (y/n) from placing her hands around the mans torso and rest her chin on his shoulder, he could recognise that look she had on her face, the big doe eyes with a hint of lust, it drove him insane to see her so… willing.
He broke free from her grip so he can face her as he leaned with his hands to support himself against the wooden stand.
“You haven’t gotten out of your room today”
“I wasn’t feeling well”
“It’s not honourable to lie”
“It’s not honourable to undress a lady with your hungry eyes”
Aegon chuckled at her quick tongue, if she was a whore she wouldn’t even wear that at the sight of a Targaryen prince, if she was a lady at court she wouldn’t have even allowed him in the room and if he even made it in she would stutter and blush with any word, (y/n) was a strong opponent that mirrored her partners actions, an interesting challenge.
“You are right, take off your nightgown”
With one slight slip from the strap on her right shoulder the dress was on the floor, neither of them moved a muscle, a stand off to see who will cave first as the princess stood naked per the princes request.
They moved in unison as they met in the middle and basically fell into each others arms for a kiss, Aemond was tender, Aegon was powerful, before she could realise it he had lifted her off the floor and forced her back to clash to the wall making her groan from the impact, Aegon did not care about hurting her at the moment and (y/n) did not care about linen when she teared apart the white blouse he was wearing to expose his chest, Aegon let his trousers go down on his ankles and soon enough (y/n) took in a sharp breath from the first pump.
Bites scattered along her shoulders from Aegons sexual nature was rough and animalistic, (y/n) responded with living bloody scratches on his back to hold on to him since she was basically in the air. (Y/n) felt like she was on the moon, Aegons dirty words that he whispered in her ear brought more moans, he went in a fast pace gripping on to her chin to force her to look at him as she came undone in his arms, her one hand was locked in Aegons silver locks to bring him closer so she can bite down on his lip as the prince followed her to reaching his high.
“I guess the rumours are true for your abilities my prince”
“I have to say the mystery that followed you made it even more interesting (y/n)”
“You must go”
“I am not done with you”
“I am, mayhaps we can circle back on this tomorrow”
-
What she did not let the two princes know was that (y/n) did not plan on staying for long, on the morrow (y/n) stood next to her dragon to fly back to dragon stone with her family close by.
“(Y/n)!”
The princess’s called for her in one voice, their reaction to hearing one another call out for her is to share a look for confusion with one another as they approached her. (Y/n) smiled at the scene of them running like little dogs behind her, so it was true that the power of the woman held no limit.
“Prince Aegon and prince Aemond, came to say goodbye”
“You are leaving? You never spoke of departing so soon”
“I do not want to overstay my welcome”
She kept her cool to reply to prince Aemond who was clearly dumbfounded at her leaving the red keep, ever since the night they slept together Aemond had grown obsessed, if he could he would have ripped his brain out to stop the thoughts of her on top of him flooding in at all hours of the day, prohibiting him from focusing on anything.
“You told me I would see you tonight”
“I said we might see each other prince Aegon I did not give you my word”
“Why would you see each other?”
“Why are you asking if she is leaving?”
“Let us not cause a scene now, it is better we depart with fond memories of one another”
“Fond memories? Is that what a whore calls it now when she fucks her way around the castle?”
(Y/n) laughed at Aemonds burst of emotion, his harsh words slipped past the princess only to feed her ego, seeing the princes in shambles over her ready to go at each others throats was a wonderful scenario no one would witness.
“One moment, father come over you want to listen to this”
“No don’t”
“Why not? My father would love to hear what you have to say and trust me even if your seven themselves graced the dragon pit they could not save your cocks”
(Y/n) stopped her sentence for a brief moment so she can place one of her hands on Aemonds cheek in endearment before she gave it a small smack like he was a child.
“Such a pity, I thoroughly enjoyed your cock”
“What seems to be the problem my blood?”
“The princes here would like to share a few thoughts they have about me, what was the word you used again dear Aemond?”
“Yes, what was the word you used to describe my daughter?”
Requests are open!
#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x fem!oc#aemond smut#aemond imagine#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond x oc#aemond x y/n#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon targaryen x you#aegon x reader#aegon ii imagine#aegon x you#aegon x oc#aegon targaryen#aegon fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd#hotd fic#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon x reader#hotd oc
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Education
Lesson #5: A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships
A/N: I don’t know what the fuck this is anymore. Enjoy the inside jokes if you catch them though.
Warnings: smut.
Matty forced a loud sigh of exasperation out of his lips, adjusting the pillow that he had sandwiched between his arm and his head. This felt like the hundredth time that he’d adjusted it. He resented it for moving. Blamed it for the fact that he couldn’t find a comfortable position to lay in, for the hundredth time, he slammed his head into the pillow with a dramatic thud against the mattress as he laid back down. Maybe going to bed early wasn’t such a great idea.
But he hated being awake lately. And loved being in bed. All day long, George’s chiding words echoed in his mind, no matter how much he denied them. He couldn’t escape the lingering thoughts, or the feeling of guilt. He had nothing to feel guilty about. He’d done nothing wrong. So why does it feel like he has? She was the one to bring up experimenting with him. For practice. And all that shit George had brought up about years ago, none of it mattered. It’s been close to a decade. If she had any interest in him at all back then, she would’ve said something. He’s not going to ruin their friendship over this. Those were the thoughts that haunted him during the day.
At night, though, his thoughts were different. As he laid there, in his cold bed, tossing and turning all night long, he couldn’t help but think about Amelia. Her eyes looking up at him as he hovered over her body protectively. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as he hit her with the crop. Her lips, puffy and red, primed for kissing and biting. The way she felt, clenching around him as he thrusted into her. Her arms, pulling against the restraints, begging him to let her touch him. Matty’s memories left him breathless, his chest rising and falling, he slid his hand down his body, into the waistband of his boxers, and tugged at the base of his hardening cock. His hand, making jerking motions, and his imagination were quick to bring him to the edge, soon, his hips bucked upwards as he fucked into his own hand, “ohhh fuck!’
——
Amelia’s steps faltered as soon as she was certain she was out of her date’s eye-shot. she finally let go of the breath she’d been holding, pushing the restaurant’s bathroom door open and rushing inside. She looked down at her shaky hands and felt tears well up in her eyes. Was it the self-disappointment or was it the fear that hurt more? She should’ve trusted her gut. Never should’ve let this date go on as long as it has. This man was aggressive from the second that she sat down at the table. Her skin crawled as she recalled their conversation, and his relentless demands that she let him go home with her, despite her consistent, unambiguous declining. He repeated “you should just let me,” and “I’d make it worth your time.” The look in his eyes, which she couldn’t interpret, terrified her. Right now, the worst part to her was what she had done in response. Standing up, calling him a “perv” and a “creep” while stomping her foot and advising him to “take the hint, you fuckwit, a no is a no,” might have felt like the feminist, empowering move in the moment, but he’d probably fall off his chair laughing if he could see her now, moments later, hiding in the ladies’ room, shaking and crying. She didn’t want to leave the restaurant immediately, in case he followed her home, so she hovered over the bathroom sink, letting the tears run down her face while waiting it out. So much for casual dating.
She looked at her, now washed, face in the mirror, delicately wiping away makeup and tear stains with a paper towel. Time to be an adult now. she sniffled, fixing her posture and adjusting the strap of her purse before walking out of the women’s restroom. This night doesn’t have to be a total shitshow. She could stop at the store on her way home, get some snacks, go home and take a nice bath, get into some comfortable pajamas, and eat her snacks in bed. She was determined to turn this night around because why should one asshole’s inability to hear the word “no” make her feel like shit? She stopped dead in her tracks. The answer to her rhetorical question stared her in the face. That creep was still sitting right where she left him. No doubt, waiting for her.
Without a second thought, she turned around and rushed back into the restroom. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” Now he went from a douche who would pressure her into having sex with him after their shitty date if it means he’d get laid, to a legitimately scary, potential stalker. Amelia pulled out her phone, humiliated, and scrolled through her call log. The one time that she tries to stand up for herself ends with her hiding out and calling for help. Her finger hovered over Adam’s contact information while she wondered if it was worth pulling him away from his child, or if she could just make a run for it and hope for the best.
—
Matty looked down at his softening dick, ropes of cum clinging to the skin of his taut stomach. The momentary pleasure of his orgasm was already fading away, giving way to deep self-loathing. He walked into the bathroom to clean up and thought about how he can’t keep doing this. He’s better than this. Or so he’d hoped. But at the end of every draining day this week, he’d found himself laying in bed, in the exact same position. He turned the faucet on to drown out the sound of his own mind.
His problem was the isolation, Matty reasoned. Of course his mind is going to wander if all he did was sit at home, alone, overthinking and going to bed early. He needed to stay busy. He reached for his phone off the nightstand as he laid back down into bed, finding the instagram app, and scrolling mindlessly for a while. Until he stumbled upon a post that caught his eye, “Daisy Honey,” had posted a picture of herself in a bikini, with the caption “Beautiful ibiza” with a number of emojis that Matty struggled to decipher the relevance of. He clicked on her profile to learn that Daisy was 24 years old, new to LA, and her most recent YouTube video is titled “Why I’m Quitting Fast Fashion,” which, she informed her followers, is finally up, despite hotel wifi being slow, and they could all watch it by clicking the link in her bio. He clicked on the circle around her profile picture to view her stories. A photo of her, surrounded by a group of equally skinny, tall, beautiful women with the caption “my face says 73 but i finally made it to 24.” It brought a smile to Matty’s face. He swiped up to message her. “hbd” he sent first, then he decided he should probably say more for good measure. “face looks not a day over 72,” then he sent “how is ibiza?” before he could say any more, his phone slipped out of his hands and fell, hitting his right collarbone. “fuck- christ!” he groaned. when he picked up his phone again, he had an incoming call.
“Amelia, hey- what?” He sat up, pressing the phone harder into his ear, his brows furrowing. “slow down, slow down, I can’t understand you.” He sprung to his feet, grabbing random clothing items out of his dresser. “And where was this? wait- you’re there now? stay in that bathroom. Don’t move! I’m on my way.”
—
Amelia jumped when she heard the knock on the bathroom door. She rushed to open the door, but as her hand wrapped around the doorknob, she worried that it might not be Matty. with trembling, cold fingers, she unlocked the bathroom door and slowly opened the door, mere inches at first, but as soon as she caught a glimpse of the leather jacket and dress shoes, she knew without a doubt that it was Matty. Relief filled them both as their eyes met. Matty pulled Amelia in for a hug, and she let herself get lost in his arms, clinging to his jacket for dear life. the faint scent of cigarettes and cologne, probably from a past outing, filled her lungs. She wished she could find comfort in that smell, but it gave her a keen feeling of failure instead. A failure to protect herself like a grown woman, a failure to separate herself from her amorphous relationship with Matty. In her efforts to subvert the damsel in distress narrative, she wound up right in the middle of it.
“You alright?” Matty whispered into her ear as he held her.
“Y-yeah, thanks for coming.” she reluctantly pulled away from him, keeping her gaze downward.
Matty wrapped a protective arm around her, pulling her to him. “let’s get you home, then. Shall we?”
Her heart beat pounded in her chest as the made their way through the restaurant, hoping the man she’d been hiding from wouldn’t look too closely as they approached his table, and get thrown off by Matty’s presence.
“Hold on a second.” Matty’s eyes scanned the room full of busy tables. “which one is he?”
There goes her surreptitious exit. “Matty, don’t. Please-‘
“Either you tell me which one this brainless animal is, or im going to go up to every single man sitting alone in here. As you can see, it’s quite a busy night. lots of tables. It’d take me a while, but I will do it.“
“fine, fine.” she tugged on his jacket to shut him up, standing on her tiptoes, she whispered into his ear. “man in the green shirt.”
Without a second thought, Matty grabbed a hold of her hand and marched them over to the table where this disastrous date had started. Her ‘date’ looked up, confused at the sight of her clinging to another man, but before he could speak, Matty did.
“Good evening, mate. My name’s Matty Healy, but you can just call me- actually, you know what? don’t address me at all. That’d be a waist of my time.”
Amelia brought her free hand to wrap around Matty’s upper arm, glance at him as he spoke. She swore he looked crazed.
she felt his hand move in hers as he bent down to the man’s level and whispered something in his ear. Before she know it, Matty cupped the stunned man’s jaw, squeezing his cheeks together with his thumb and index finger and hissing an “are we fuckin clear?” at him.
A waitress suddenly appeared behind them addressing Matty with a quivering voice. “S-sir? excuse me, sir?’ but he gave no indication of being aware of her.
“I asked you a question, bro. Don’t make me ask again, cuz you won’t like how I do it.” Matty tilted the man’s squished face upwards, staring directly into his eyes. He received an incoherent mumble in return.
“Sir, i’m going to have to call the police now” the waitress seemingly finding her voice.
Matty’s hand slowly let go, adjusting his jacket and taking a deep breath as he finally turned to face the waitress. “No need. As soon as my new friend here apologizes to Amelia, we’ll be on our merry way.” He looked at Amelia, his entire demeanor instantly changing, his face softening, his eyes even seemed calm. With an even, relaxed tone, he asked, “what did you say this motherfucker’s name is?”
“Arthur, but, listen, Matty, I don’t need an apology, we should just-“
“‘course you don’t. Who’s he for you to need anything from him? He’s the one who needs it. Right, Arthur?” Matty, was, of course, no longer looking at Amelia.
She nodded as Arthur spat out an obligatory apology, and watch Matty reach into the pocket of his jacket and pull out his wallet. He threw a handful of bills onto the table. “dinner’s on me.” He smiled, menacingly. Turning to the waitress, he produced more cash out of his wallet and handed them to her. “for the…trouble. Goodnight.”
—
in the car, Matty emptied his pockets into the cup holder next to him as he dug around for a lighter. He tossed his phone into it first, then his cigarettes, then a keychain stacked with keys. “the fuck is it?” he mumbled to himself. “oh shit! I don’t think I brought one. left in a hurry, and-“ he sighed. “Do me a favor, babe, pop the glove box open, there’s probably a lighter in there.”
Amelia’s lips twitched, threatening a smile, at him calling her “babe.”
“Thanks.” Matty took the lighter and picked up his almost-empty, blue “Camel,” cigarette packet. “Wan’ on?” he mumbled with a cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. Amelia shook her head and he shrugged, turning the engine on, and reaching for the music player. “any requests?”
“N-no, you’re the captain of this ship. you make the choice.”
“fuck yeah, I am.” he clicked a few buttons, turned a few dials, and The Chicks’ “Wide Open Spaces” filled the car, with Matty humming along and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“Wanna talk about it?” Matty lowered the volume once they’d gotten to a main road.
“The- date? oh, no, thanks. Rather not.”
He nodded slowly, watching with disappointment as the traffic light turned red before he could get to it.
“Actually, there is one thing I do wanna talk about.” For the first time tonight, Amelia sounded vaguely like her normal, cheery self which made Matty smile. “I wanna know what you said to Arthur. He looked like he was seeing a ghost.”
“Oh, right.” Matty turned to look at her, a self-satisfied grin gracing his face. “Nothing massive. Just listed the qualifications that make me capable of breaking every bone of his body if ever attempted to contact you via text, dating app, phone, or even letter, carrier pigeon, or smoke signal. Then, I described in vivid detail the creative ways in which I’d go about breaking every bone in his body….that’s all.”
He watched her smile for an instant before correcting herself and putting on an unamused face. “so, pure caveman violence. Men.”
He giggled and she felt proud of herself for eliciting that reaction out of him. She also found herself wondering why his laugh turned her on so much. she glanced to the side, to avoid staring into his beautiful eyes for too long and noticed his phone light up, the vibration making a noise against the edges of the cup holder.
It was an instagram notification from a “Daisy something” thanking him for some reason and saying that it “means a lot coming from a good looking man like him.”
Amelia felt a lump in her throat, she attempted to swallow, but her mouth felt dry. Matty looked down at his phone then back up at Amelia. A car honked behind them, alerting Matty to the traffic light turning green. He hit the gas pedal and adjusted his hold of the steering wheel. She turned away from him, sitting back and turning to watch the city whizz past the passengers window.
—
Amelia unbuckled her seatbelt and watched the door opened, Matty lending her a hand to help steady her as she stepped out of his car in her heels. He reached for her purse, grabbing it before locking the doors.
“You don’t have to-“
“okay.” Matty walked past her and pulled the building door open.
“Thanks, for, umm- tonight. And sorry I interrupted your night.”
They both spoke at once. Matty, eager to let her know that it was no problem at all, had started to speak over her when she said “I didn’t wanna call you.” He frowned, but kept his eyes straight ahead as they climbed the stairs. “I called Adam first. He didn’t answer. so, umm, then I called Ross, but i think his phone must be dead or something. George’s out of town, I know, so.’ she swallowed, her voice shaky. “Had to call you.”
Matty took a moment to absorb the sting that her words caused him, then, when he was certain his voice wouldn’t betray him, he spoke again. “Adam and Carly went to see a film tonight. Probably has his phone on silent, cinema etiquette and all that.”
He handed her her purse back and she reached into it to fish out her keys.
“Wanna come inside?” Her tone wasn’t exactly warm and hospitable. Matty sensed that he should decline.
“I don’t want to intrude….unless you want me to? I mean if- you’d rather not be alone after tonight-“
“What? I’m totally fine, it was just a weird date, but men are gross all the time, I’ve learned to just ignore it.”
Matty looked down at his feet, summoning all of his energy to keep a smile on his face. “right. I’m off, then. Goodnight.”
***
A few minutes, and several traffic violations later, Matty found himself, drink in hand, back online.
reading back the conversation he’d just had with Daisy, he decided to act on it and get himself a seat on the next flight to LA. He needs to get out of town anyway. Get a change of scenery, break up the routine. Maybe even get some work done or see some friends.
***
Amelia tapped the screen of her phone to check the time for the third time in the last 40 minutes. She hated this feelingThe self-imposed pressure she put on herself every weekend. To use her weekends like ‘normal people would.’ It’s not that she wanted to. Not that she wished she went out more. To the contrary, she’d much rather fold laundry, make soup, and binge-watch the same television show that she’d been obsessed with for the past three months. But she knew that it wasn’t cool or superior to stay in every weekend. In fact, on the days where she’s clear and honest enough with herself, she can admit that her hermetic lifestyle is probably hurting her friendships.She should be calling people up and making plans. The problem was that she felt no inclination to do so. The main activities of people her age were geared towards hooking up or finding a relationship. Neither of which came naturally to her. If, again, she were honest with herself she would admit that her instinct to stay at home all the time might have something to do with the fact that she’d feel weird and out of place if she did go out. Why should she force herself to be someone she’s not? caught up in a moment of self-affirmation, she picked up her phone and deleted her online dating apps. “No more creeps.”
Moments after setting her phone down, her screen lit up. It was a call, from Matty. She picked the phone back up and almost answered it . She didn’t want to appear too eager, though, so she let it ring one beat, two beats, then reminded herself again that she ought not to force herself to behave unnaturally and answered the call with an excited greeting.
“Heyyyy, Mia. how do you do?”
She frowned, “‘how do you do?’ Matty, are you drunk?”
“N-no! Not really, anyway….just a bit tipsy.” he chuckled.
“At this time of the day? are you insane?” she moved her phone away from her ear to double-check the time.
“Oh, no. I’m in LA, Mia. Guess I forgot to say that.”
“oh.” an unidentifiable feeling of discomfort rushed through her blood upon learning that Matty was thousands of miles away. “business or pleasure?”
“You know me, darlin.’ Business IS pleasure to me.” Matty, cracked unable to say that with a serious tone, he giggled to himself.
“Never say that again. like…ever.”
“Fair enough. nah, for real though. Just here to see some people. might get some work done though. Saw Phoebe, and, some people tonight.”
“Bridgers? Oh, how is she?” Amelia always got excited to hear about Matty’s adventures on the other side of the world, especially if any of them involved Phoebe Bridgers.
“She’s alright. It was a bunch of us actually. some people from her band, and a couple of guys from our offices and stuff. so I haven’t got anything juicy for you. just a night out.”
Matty entertained Amelia’s extremely specific and completely random questions about what it’s like to be out with Phoebe Bridgers. Nothing he hasn’t answered before, but it always seemed to make her happy, and he found the fangirl within her quite endearing.
“So, where are you right now? Where are you calling me from?” Amelia asked after a lull in the conversation.
“Hotel room. bed, specifically.” he laughed as he added, “I’m not at Phoebe’s home or anything.”
“I suppose it’s late where you are now, yes?”
“mhm.” Matty switched his phone to the other ear, to give is right side a rest, “You know what I was thinking, though? We haven’t taught you any new bedroom tricks in a while. Does that make me a bad teacher?”
“You’re always traveling, so, yeah. You think students learn anything while their teacher’s on holiday?”
“Oh, my sweet, innocent, Mia.” His voice suddenly changed, sounding deeper, darker. “You really do need this education, don’t you?”
“I- what’s- what?”
“Don’t have to be in the same room together to have sex.” Matty pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor and undoing his jeans. “We don’t even have to be in the same time zone.”
“oh?” It took her scrambled mind a moment to take in his suggestion. “Oh, you- you mean…phone sex?”
***
Amelia couldn’t believe that she’d agreed to this. But stepping out of her comfort zone is the whole point of their arrangement. Besides, she’d missed him. Missed having sex with him. Missed his delicate touch, coupled with his firm decisive voice, always seeming to know exactly what to say to put her at ease and cut the tension. Always knowing what to do to ensure her safety and pleasure. She was never gonna find that on a dating app.
“Yeah, i’m ready, I just- don’t know wh-“
“You let me worry about the logistics, just need you to relax, okay, darlin’?” She could hear the smile in his voice, and she’d see it enough times to be able to picture his face perfectly. At this rate, it really won’t take much. Maybe this whole thing is easier than she’d imagined.
“I know it feels odd, yeah?” Matty’s voice invaded her senses. She closed her eyes, resting her naked back against the mattress. She wanted to feel him everywhere. “I get it.’ He continued, “the whole point of sex is that it’s about being there. feeling everything. my skin against yours. My lips on your neck, your arms wrapped around my back, nails digging into my skin, pulling me closer and closer as I move inside you, until we’re chest to chest. no room for even air, between us.”
Amelia felt the urge to clench her legs as Matty went on. “your fingers, running through my hair,” Amelia’s hands reached below her waist, towards the wetness between her legs. “im so on top of you that my lips are by your ear. you can hear, feel, see, and touch me. It’s overwhelming to have so much of your mind and body stimulated. That’s why orgasms feel so intense” Matty was breathless, He took a moment to collect himself. “But when you do it on the phone….it’s weird. we’re not together. There’s a machine between us. But, I think if you close your eyes.” Matty swore he heard her moan, but he wasn’t going to interrupt her to ask, “Remember what I taught you about touching yourself.” The reminder was meant to be for her, but it helped that images of her with her hands between her legs, doing what he told her to do came flooding through the front of his mind, too. “Do you remember all that?” His own hand dipped underneath the duvet.
“mhm” she whined, desperate.
“No, Amelia. Use your words.” He was stern, but he swallowed his own moan to maintain that tone.
“I- ah- I remember. I promise.” She yelled out, impatient.
“Good. then all you have to do is make yourself feel good. And picture me, on top of you, kissing down your body, your breasts, your stomach. worshipping every inch of your skin the way that it deserves to be worshipped. especially the insides of your thighs. fuck-i can’t wait to have my lips on your cunt again, soon.”
Her hips swayed as she shook, moving her fingers faster and faster as Matty’s voice filled her head. “Matty, please, umm- i’m close- I”
“Together, then, alright? cum for me, baby.”
“Fuck!!” she heard the phone slide off the bed and fall to the floor as she convulsed from head to toe.
****
It was hours later, the sun already coming up outside of Matty’s hotel window, when they finally ended their call. Sleep had overtaken him completely. With squinting, watery eyes, he sent her a final message, before plugging his phone in to charge, and falling asleep.
In her own bed, Amelia stared at the text with a smile on her face.
“Good girl xx [this is me kissing you like I usually do before leaving] goodnight.”
butterflies in her stomach and echoes of Matty’s voice in her mind were distracting her from her usual quotidian activities. She scrolled through her phone, to find something else to think about and redirect her thoughts. And the internet, as always, never disappoints.
News had now traveled across the pond and headlines began to circulate everywhere.
Matty Healy stumbles, looking intoxicated out of mystery apartment. featuring a photo of Matty, on the streets of LA blinded by the flashing lights.
Amelia hated that her first thought was “his eyes! that must have given him a headache.”
another headline read,
Matt Healy, lead singer of British Rock band seen in LA with Phoebe Bridgers and friends.above a picture of Matty, with a group of people, some of whom she recognized, but a couple of whom she didn’t. including the brunette on Matty’s arm.
Phoebe Bridgers x 1975 collab? Lead Singer of Indie Band Matty Healey and 'Punisher' Singer On Double Date in LA
Amelia set her phone down, clutching her waist as she felt an impossibly tight knot twist in her stomach. It felt like her heart had been physically stabbed.
#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x you#matty healy x oc#matty healy smut#matty healy fluff#matty healy angst
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All of the things it takes for you to stay
Tongue, teeth, and eyes, I’d throw it all away
Tear me apart ’til there’s nothing left to gain
What would it take for you to do the same?
-Guts by Margo
Hello everyone, I am A Chaotic Human, or Asher, this is my fanatic blog dedicated to Acotar. My pronouns are He/Him/His. My side-blog is @achaotichuman2-0
This account is Pro-Palestine, call for a permanent ceasefire in Palestine. Free the lands that have been occupied for 75+ years.
This blog is dedicated to all things pro Tamlin, Lucien Vanserra and Nesta Archeron. My main ships are Tamcien, Neslin, Tamris and Tamsand, but really I will write for any Tamlin ship.
This account is anti Rhysand and anti-Inner Circle. If that bothers you, kindly block me.
My inbox is open for requests! Send prompts or ships and I will write a oneshot for it!
Works on Ao3-
A Court of Song and Desolation-
The Spring Court is in ruins, and Tamlin lives with the ghostly memories that haunt his broken, forgotten manor. Lucien cannot and will not stand for the idea of leaving him there to rot. After bringing Tamlin to the mortal lands, they begin to unveil a darkness that is targeting the Spring Lord and may rewrite their way of life as they know it.
-Not completed. Set to have 70 chapters. Includes, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Azriel/Eris Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian.
How Nesta Archeron Learned to Trap A Beast-
Nesta leaves the Night Court for the Mortal Lands after they attempt to trap her with the male she loathes. After travelling through Summer, she finds the Spring Court and is determined to make it through to her old home. Tamlin is on the brink of ending it, but when the eldest Archeron sister comes marching through his lands, he finds a new reason to keep going.
-Not completed. Set to have 6 chapters. Includes, Nesta Archeron/Tamlin.
The Dog Days Are Over-
A gift for @shi-daisy for writing the beautiful A Court of Threads & Daises. The Spring festival is upon the Ambrose family. Joy and celebration is in the air, but this festival is a little different to any other. Amarantha is no longer looming on the lands and the people are free to celebrate as they wish, they are no longer weighed down by her sadistic hand, or by a curse. The dog days are over.
-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes the original ships of A Court of Threads and Daises.
A Game Never Worth Playing-
Their mating bond has been ignored for too long and Eris is finally and fully fed up with it. He marches into Spring and demands that Tamlin finally make a decision.
-Completed. 2 chapters. Includes Tamlin/Eris Vanserra.
Melodies In The Dark-
A snippet of what occurred UTM before Feyre came back to save Prythian. Tamlin misses the sun, when he sees Lucien again for the first time in weeks, he realizes his sun was Under the Mountain with him all along.
-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Tamlin/Rhysand.
The One True High Lord
Even after everyone expected Nesta Archeron, the eldest of the Night Court Heirs would take the throne, Feyre Acheron has been chosen by the Cauldron. With her new precarious position, and resistance against women in power in the Night Court, Feyre decides to ask an old friend to turn her male. Now High Lord of the Night Court. Feyre explores the ins and outs of ruling and finds drama waiting for her in the hands of a beautiful stranger.
This was based of Tumblr Prompt but I turned into an AU
-Not completed. Set to have 4 chapter. Includes Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Morrigan, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.
Citrus Tears, Sour Souls
I went on an angst kick and uploaded some angsty oneshots to Tumblr, this is them collected on Ao3.
-Not completed. Includes Lucien/Elain Archeron, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra & The Lady of the Autumn Court.
A Field Of Dahlias
Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.
When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.
-Not completed. Set to have 5 chapters. Includes Feyre Archeron/Tamlin, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Ianthe/Elain Archeron, Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra.
Heaven Help A Fool Who Falls In Love
Tamlin mumbled something too quiet for Lucien to catch, the Fox chuckled, and pressed his forehead to Tamlin’s, “What was that, pretty boy?”
Tamlin breathed a laugh, “Pretty boy?”
Lucien bit down on his lip, trying to contain his grin, he was unsuccessful, “Yes, pretty boy.”
“Okay, handsome man.” Tamlin replied.
Tamlin gets sick, and Lucien takes care of him.
-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.
Tumblr Oneshots
Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-
Hallow's eve is upon Prythian. But what Court has the best scares? Autumn or Spring. Lucien is the judge and Tamlin is determined to win.
Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-
When Tamlin is fighting his magic, and Lucien takes care of him.
Tamlin/Rhysand-
Rhysand pushes Tamlin too far at a ball. Tamlin finally snaps and gives him what he deserves.
Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-
Modern!Au, Lucien has a motorcycle, he gives his boyfriend a ride. Tamlin is in love.
Tamlin/Rhysand & Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-
Rhysand is still hung over Tamlin even centuries after their fallout. Lucien isn't letting him anywhere near his High lord.
Tamlin/Rhysand-
Rhysand blames Tamlin, but who's left to blame if Tamlin isn't there?
Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra & Elain Archeron/Gwyneth Berdara-
Lucien is drawing further and further away from Elain. Elain wants to know why.
Tamlin/Rhysand-
Tamlin finally gives Rhysand a reality check, so naturally Rhysand does the next logical thing, and attempts to court him.
Tamlin Oneshot-
Tamlin is stuck in a time loop of reliving his life over and over. An old friend comes to lead him into the afterlife. Tamlin finally lets himself go with her.
Tamlin/Rhysand-
Rhysand meets a beautiful female at a ball in the Hewn City. She runs away before he can get her name. He is still in love a year later, and finally meets her again, but who was she really...
Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-
Lucien loves reading. He can't anymore because the clicking of his metal eye drives him insane. Tamlin decides to step in and help.
Tamlin & Jesminda
Jesminda is simply trying to enjoy a beautiful day, then, because the Gods apparently hate her, a problem falls from the sky and into her life.
Five times Lucien Vanserra proposed to Tamlin, one time Tamlin said yes
Exactly what the title says, five times Tamlin rejected Lucien's proposal, one time he accepted.
A rewrite of Feyre’s death Under the Mountain.
Feyre awakening from her near death experience in a slightly more realistic manner.
Thunderstorms- Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra
Lucien is afraid of thunderstorms; Tamlin helps him through one. Or Tamcien fluff.
Eris Vanserra
Eris' home has never been a safe place; or Eris Vanserra angst.
The Mother's Least Favourite Son
Elain decides to reject the mating bond, and what Lucien becomes after.
Worthless Man
Tamlin is difficult to understand, even harder to love.
The Last Time He Cried
Finding peace in the after world- A continuation of The Mother's Least Favourite Son, but you do not need to read it to understand this one.
Eris Vanserra
Eris has a not good, very bad, horrible day.
Tamlin Week 2024
This is the list of my oneshots for Tamlin Week 2024, I decided to make them their own section with links to both the Tumblr post and Ao3 work for them!
Day1- Kidnapped By The Faery Queen
Link for Tumblr Post and the Link for Ao3 work
A character reversal AU, where Tamlin is mortal and in Feyre's position. And Feyre is the High Lady of Spring who needs a human to break her curse.
Day2- The Ghost Of The One That Got Away
Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work
Rhysand walks in on Tamlin practicing for a performance. What happened after... well who was to blame him for falling in love on the spot?
Day3- Hedonism
Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 post
Tamlin has never been good with words. Much less relationships, of any kind at all.
He doesn't know how to fix this; he doesn't know if there's any possibility of this being fixed.
But he has to try, for the man that is everything he's ever needed. He will try.
Day4- Mama's Boy
Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work
On the evening of Calanmai, Tamlin remembers the first time he ever performed the ritual.
Day5- Marry Me
Link to Tumblr post and the Link to Ao3 work
Tamlin has been wanting to marry Lucien for two years. Now he finally decides to propose.
Hopefully everything goes smoothly.
Day6- How Easy It Is To Worship You
Link to Tumblr post and the Link to Ao3 work
Tamlin has a nightmare, reimagining his past and his mistakes. Lucien comforts him, and helps him through his negative spiral.
Feylin Week
Day1- My Faery Lord
Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work
When Feyre strays from the group of sentries patrolling, she hurts herself after falling.
But not even an injury will stop her from finding the source of wistful music that floods her entire body when she hears it through the woods.
Day2- Bravery Is In Spite Of Fear
Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work
When Tamlin is preparing to head to Hybern, Feyre holds him back. Unable to forget the day she last said goodbye and nearly lost him forever.
And here is a list of other Pro Tamlin creators and their fiction if you are interested in reading from others but don't know where to start!
#acotar#tamlin#pro tamlin#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#tamcien#tamlin/lucien vanserra#rhysand#tamlin/rhysand#tamsand#rhyslin#nesta archeron#pro nesta archeron#neslin#a chaotic human masterlist#acotar headcanons#acotar au#acotar fanfiction#tamris#eris vanserra#jesminda#pro eris vanserra#morsta#morrigan#feysand#fanfiction writer#achaotichuman#religious lesbian icon ianthe#ianthe acotar#feylin
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slytherin halloween
celebrating the spooky month of october i wanted to create a series of halloween one-shots including the slytherin boys! for every week of october i will be posting a new story featuring a new character. the order is completely random, feel free to send me some ideas: i’ll be more that happy to include them!
one-shots:
draco malfoy - beauty lies in the eye of the beholder hurricane - barely anyone bothers to look up at the ceiling. but the slytherin common room was getting infested by a mysterious mold
theodore nott - “i like your voice” - there is this one habit that you developed a long time ago. singing in the shower was this absurd little ritual that helped lift up your spirits. what if one day a review appeared written out on your foggy mirror.
blaise zabini - haunted love - as leaves start to fall from the trees, strange things start to happen around hogsmeadge. an adorable old lady with her small stand, every year waiting in a different place. selling little trinkets, looking innocent and nostalgic, but no one has the guts to approach her, ever.
mattheo riddle - << mattheo, y/n’s version >> - everyone knows that slytherin parties are the best. well, if you like detaching from reality and making bad decisions. there’s always something curious in the air. many tried to replicate the ambience, but music seems to be the final piece of the puzzle
so, gather round, my fellow witches and warlocks! let’s explore the ancient walls of hogwarts. but be careful, you never know what horror awaits just round the corner.
harry potter masterlist
#harry potter#hogwarts au#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#send me asks#spooky#october#halloween#hogwarts houses#draco malfoy#draco x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#blaise zabini#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#regulus black#regulus x reader#sirius x reader#sirius black#hogwarts fanfiction#halloween special#harry potter fanfiction#masterlist#send anons#send asks#send me dms#ideas#need ideas#asks open
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