#made me wish I had ride or dies
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toji never celebrates his birthday and thus learned to treat it as any other regular day. well, until you came into the picture and did the unexpected.
☀︎｜tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut mixed with fluff & sprinkle of angst. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji late 20’s /early 30’s) implied size difference, p in v -> unprotected, cowgirl position, toji actually being a soft dom kinda, praise mixed with tiny bit of degradation, slight corruption kink, dirty talk / teasing, biting, creampie, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl \\ pretty, innocent, small'. not beta read. happy bday hubby!
“i told ya — fuck jus’ like that — not to buy or do anythin’ for me on m’birthday.” toji’s head lolls back against the pillow while his rough palms explore every inch of your gorgeous body. the word ‘birthday’ rolls off his tongue in a bitter manner. the assassin never celebrates that dreadful day, as he calls it.
he’s never found it to be worth remembering. his family couldn’t care less about that day when he was a child, so why would he?
but, that changed when you came into his life. toji flinched when he heard a loud ‘pop!’ sound upon opening the front door to his apartment. he was used to those noises being one of danger and thus swiftly reached for the spare weapon in his pocket. . . only to notice you standing behind the door with a party popper and a homemade cake.
the older man froze in place for a good few seconds, though was quick to realise the situation and relax. after the initial shock died down, you excitedly dragged him off to the living room to show him the presents you bought.
toji's first reflex was to scold you for spending money on him. he had never gotten anything for his birthday—it was weird to finally receive something from someone who actually cares for him. it somehow made him feel guilty as well. was he worth spending money on?
toji’s impressed reactions when unwrapping the presents showed you exactly how foreign the moment was to him: he’s never opened any gifts before. that much was even more evident after witnessing his inexperience in peeling off the tape from the boxes.
eventually, after opening around seven gifts, toji got to unwrap his final present. the present which was you.
the way you innocently yet seductively whispered words of affection in his ears made his mind go blank. even if it were simple ‘i love you’s and ‘happy birthday’ wishes. the red dress you had on and how your figure looked in it made everything ten times more sexual to the assassin. anything after that was a complete blur. his body moved on its own and yours followed right after until you finally landed on top of him — riding him.
toji’s half-lidded eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight he's witnessing. maybe his birthday wasn't such a bad day after all; the loving memories you're currently creating would surely outbalance the negative ones.
you shake your head at toji’s earlier sentence and tighten your grip on his shoulders, nails lightly digging into his skin and leaving faint red marks. you almost can’t talk due to the overexertion—your hips continuously rising and falling back down for the sake of your lover, “i- mph, wanted to get you all those things. you deserve them, toji.”
the view of your small body trying its hardest to not give in to its need of an orgasm made the assassin dizzy. his large hands settle on your waist and his eyes watch your every move from behind his black bangs. toji silently hisses as he feels your tight cunt clenching around him, “. . . f-shit. easy there.”
your pretty face is his weakness. especially when your usual innocent look gets replaced by one filled with carnal desire. toji can easily get off to the idea of him having that effect on you—his words, body, looks and actions that corrupted your every being in intimate moments like these.
“such a sweet thing,” the dark-haired man coos, brushing the stray locks of hair away from your face with his index finger. his other hand rubs up and down your inner thigh, each time getting dangerously closer to your clit, though never getting a single touch in. the scarred corner of his lips twitch in an amused grin at your whines, “oh? want me to touch you there, princess? that what ya want?”
you nod without a second thought. you were trying your best to hold out for as long as your body allowed it — desperately wanting to reach your climax at the same time toji was going to — but the idea seems impossible the longer this continued.
your boyfriend grins smugly, raising his eyebrows before entirely removing his hands from your body. his arms rest behind his head as he reverts to simply enjoying the view of you riding him so well. toji can never not be mean to you. your little pouts only drive him to tease you more and more, “hm, well, ya see - i thought you were gonna spoil me today, not the other way around.”
“t-toji! tha's mean. . .” you huff, bottom lip trembling. your arms circle his neck and your upper body leans forward to rest against his chiseled chest. you stop your hip thrusts and instead grind against his pelvis, trying to stimulate your clit on your own.
toji clicks his tongue, but figured it was best to leave you be. he didn't want to be too rough on you today - you had been nothing but sweet to him the entire night. you had blessed him with his first, proper birthday experience as well.
“aww, my little girl ‘s pouting,” the older man snickers and his hands return to their place. he allows you to grind against him, the sensations being amazing for him as well. the tip of his cock almost reaches your cervix from the current angle and your bodily fluids smear all over his thighs and lower abdomen, “shh shh, ‘tis alright.”
your needy whines and moans are music to his ears. toji rubs your lower back and pats your ass every now and then, squeezing the soft flesh gently just to hear another whimper spill from your lips. there was no way you could hold back now. especially when your bodies were rubbing together and you could feel toji’s defined abs and hardened muscles underneath you.
“toji - nngh - can i? wan' — wanna cum.” your small hands tighten their grip around his broad shoulders. you earn a low, breathy chuckle from your lover. the increasing sensations in his lower stomach were an indication to how close he was to his orgasm as well. he wasn’t going to deny you any further.
toji sighs in content and presses a soft kiss to your temple, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. it was a rare occurence to see that vulnerable and affectionate look in his piercing green eyes. the little smile plastered on his face only added to the soft and intimate atmosphere.
. . . well, toji wouldn’t be toji if he wasn’t going to add catch you off guard in any way or form. your eyes widen and your body jolts forward as he suddenly starts putting work in—his hips ramming into yours from below, the skin-to-skin sounds resonating throughout the room once again. it was like the wind got knocked out of you for a good second, “fuck! w-wait, toji! tojitojitoji!”
the older man holds tightly onto you — cradling you in his arms as he lightly lifts your hips to have free reign over the pace and movements of your two bodies — thrusting up into you over and over. he lets out a series of small, silent groans as he feels his climax nearing;
“shit, yeah - ‘m gonna stuff this pussy of y’rs full, princess.” toji's callused fingers curl around your hip bones, using them as leverage to increase the intensity of his thrusts, “think you can take it all?”
you mewl and nod again and again. you’re on the brink of tears when the waves of pleasure reach their peak. your eyes roll back and your body convulses, legs shaking and squirming during those few seconds of pure bliss. your adorable babble in the form of toji’s name was all your lover needed to push him over the edge—
“fuck. ‘m gonna cum,” toji groans and firmly bites your shoulder to hold back any more noises when he finally decided to let go. a choked sob leaves your lips the instant you feel the hot spurts of cum seeping into your senstive cunt. the older man continues to thrust in and out sloppily, riding out his orgasm and fucking his cum deeper into you at the same time, “so good — i love you s’much.”
you smile exhaustedly at the love confession from your boyfriend. toji’s grip on you loosens up after he completely emptied his balls deep inside your cunt, his jaw finally unclenching. he plants a few wet kisses along the bite marks on your shoulder in attempt to soothe the pain.
you catch your breath as you rest on top of toji's body. he didn't put the slightest effort into pulling out of you — even as a tiny puddle of your mixed juices stains his skin.
“i love you too, toji,” you reply and earn another lazy kiss to your forehead. he rubs the back of your head and massages your plush thighs in a tender manner. nothing could make this moment even more perfect, you thought to yourself.
you smile as you pull your head back to look into toji’s eyes. he was already looking at you — admiring your gorgeous looks as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. you capture his lips in a delicate kiss, “happy birthday.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x you#toji x you#female reader#i hate this ARGHHHH
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Lips anon! Had a tasty thought, imagine Ranchero Miguel and the Pastor's Daughter 😳
You are supposed be a sweet little cherry and you are, but behind barn doors you're getting bred by Miguel. You truly love each other, and you're ashamed of your lust, but he assures you that he's going to marry you. It's no lie. He's just going to pump a baby into you first ❤️
Jeeeesshhh. 🤤
VERY NSFW under the cut
More Ranchero Miguel here
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When Miguel had arrived to your family's farm as a recommendation by a close friend of your dad, you couldn't believe how... easy it was to sin.
Your mother would often swat your head and reprimand you whenever your stare, lingered too much on him. Saying "No daughter of mine will be mingling with that boy." But you didn't care.
Not when he had popped your cherry in the barn. Strong and calloused hands had held you in place as his fat cock slid into you, condom wrapped a bit too tight around him. Riding you gently as he mumbled the sweetest things into your ear. He made sure to make it special.
Sometimes he'd tease you by working shirtless in the barn, he'd ride Agustín, A pure bred horse, hat snug on his head. Your friends would unabashedly stare at him.
"Señoritas" (Ladies)
He tipped his hat but you knew that smile on his face belonged to you only, your friends giggling and gushing over the fact you had such fine man, under your care.
You felt shame washing over you at the breathless petitions you made him.
"Use the rope!" He would. He would tie your hands above you in one of the posts as his girth rammed viciously into your tight and soaking pussy, only to leave it swollen, full of him and flushed by the constant slapping of his toned hips.
"Choke me" He'd squeeze his large hand that easily wrapped on your neck, cutting the air enough to pump his load inside a couple of times inside your greedy cunt.
"Dios mío, preciosa" He growled as you milked and squeezed him. He could feel every pulsation of your insides embracing him, trapping him.
But this time he was being particularly rough on you. The frustration of you not being swollen with his baby at this point made him to rile your legs up to his shoulders, spreading you, as his fat, cum leaking, thick cock sheathed on your pussy-sleeve
He covered your mouth as your hands fisted in tight balls on his chest, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.
"No hagas mucho..." He growled as his hips smacked yours with such force it sent you bouncing underneath him, "Ruido" (Don't make too much noise)
Your mewls and grunts died on your mouth as he fucked you thoroughly.
"Te vas a ver tan chula con esta pancita redonda" (You'll look gorgeous with this round belly)
God, the thrill to have him all to yourself doing as you asked, only to be pampered later with such delicacy made your stomach flutter. Your mother would surely die out of a heart attack if she knew you were letting the farmboy she disliked so much, fill your little tight hole to the brim as many times as he saw fit. And your father, would surely want to shoot him for corrupting you.
"Ya quiero casarme contigo, chaparrita" (I already wanna marry you, baby)
Tears rolled down your cheeks as he didn't show any signs of stopping, at least not anytime soon. Pleasure borderline biting and overwhelming. In reality was, That Miguel only obliged at your wishes just to see your pretty, dolled up eyes rolling to the back for him and he alone.
"Pa' llenarte de hijos preciosos. Sólo mírate" (T'fill you with pretty children. Just look at you)
"So pretty and good f'me, yeah?" you nodded and your spine arched.
He was definitely fucking a baby into you tonight.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x you#t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#💋 anon#miguel o'hara smut#Farmer boy Miguel O'Hara#Funny thing is that mom was reading the Bible out loud as I was writing this. See you guys in hell JSKSJSKS#atsv smut#spiderman 2099 smut
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D o c t o r p a r k
Pairing: Doctor! Jay x Bimbo! Reader
Genre: smut
W.c: 2.5k
| Requested | Not proofread |
Tw warning: extreme humiliation, heavy degradation, anal sex, spanking, fingering, shoe humping, umm reader is put into a wedgie, Jay fingered her belly button 😭, Filth.
"I'm feeling a bit dizzy, Mr. Kim," you lamented, trying to evoke a sense of concern from your professor, who simply looked at you with skepticism. "I'm a bit concerned Miss.Y/n because you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks. Maybe you should take the day off and ask your friends for notes." Your professor suggested the idea, and you reluctantly agreed, secretly rolling your eyes. In reality, you didn't actually have any dizziness or headaches. You just wanted an excuse to escape class and visit the nurse's office in hopes of catching a glimpse of the incredibly attractive Doctor Park, also known as Doctor Jay.
You have been on his tail since the past weeks, wanting to get into his pants than anything else. Though your plans have gone unsuccessful as he merely shrugged you off crushing your hopes in an instant. He was extremely stern and focused on his work. The university you were studying in was a prestigious one with strict protocols hiring the best lecturers, the best staff and the hottest doctor.
He was everything you ever wanted. He was smart, young, well-built and probably had a big dick too given by his attitude. Oh how you wished to feel his strong arms around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold.
There you were once again, waiting for him to notice you, in his office. With his white coat dangling by his chair, he was glancing through his phone. His well-fitting black shirt revealed his biceps, and he had his hair pulled back, his trousers ironed and his leather shoes lightly tapping the floor. You wished the floor was you instead. You were relieved that his nurse had taken a lunch break, but you found her annoying because of her privilege to always be around doctor Jay.
"Oh Miss.Y/n you again?" He questioned blankly, though the 'again' seemed a little emphasised. "Yes, doctor Park, I am feeling a little unwell." You responded in a soft tone, your voice coming across as seductive, as you had intended. Jay raised an eyebrow and slightly shook his head, his gaze drawn to your choice of outfit. A white mini skirt paired with a baby blue tube top. You were dressed in very little as usual, and his gaze was drawn to your sparkling headband and red nails, which would look stunning wrapped around his fat cock. He was fully aware of your intentions, but he could not afford to give in to them just yet.
"Miss.Y/n, you have come here three times this week. You already have a prescription from me for headache medication. Despite the fact that you showed no symptoms, you previously claimed to have a fever. What symptoms do you have now? Would you mind informing me, hm?" He inquired in the most casual tone. His tone already has your pussy throbbing. He was overconfident and a stuck-up asshole in the sexiest way possible.
"I feel some pain here, doctor." You said that, and then you moved over to the hospital bed and laid down next to his chair without asking. With a silent exhale, he looked up at you. Your top was dropping to expose your cleavage, and your skirt was perilously riding up to expose your soft mid-thighs.
"Where does it hurt, Miss Y/n?" He questioned unfazed, despite the fact that his mind was racing. You pouted slightly at his unaffected demeanour, your pink glossy lips tempting him to bite them. He was annoyed by the way you fluttered your eyes at him, acting as if you knew nothing about anything. It made him so angry that he wanted to rip off your pathetic excuse for clothes and rail you to the end. The thoughts which went through his mind every time he saw you would have him fired from the university, have his licence suspended.
"Here..." You pointed directly at your crotch, expecting him to be either flustered or disgusted. To your surprise, he smirked. "I understand what you are doing, Y/n," he said, shaking his head and dropping the honorific. He did not let you respond when he spoke again. "I must say, it is funny."
"What do you mean, doctor?" You asked innocently, but your heart raced as you wondered what he was thinking. "Nothing, are you sure your litte princess parts doesn't hurt because of taking the whole football team?" He questioned and your jaw dropped. He let out a snort at your expression "What? Am I lying?" His smirk widens when your face starts to turn red, burning in humiliation.
"Does your skirt length correspond to your level of comprehension? You dirty vulgar girl" He asked again degrading you. "Doctor....that's really mean of you! You are slut-shaming and y-you are insulting me." In reply, you stumbled over your words. "I'm not slut shaming you y/n. I'm simply stating out facts which I have heard around and which you have showed around me, how is that offensive, sweetheart?" He questioned amused, his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your dumb expression. You were nothing but a dumb slut who could barely live her life without a cock. He noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together at the nickname he called you.
"The whole football team—hell, I do not even know their names, they did not sleep with me. Doctor Jay,how can you believe them?" You asked, your bottom lip quivering as you pouted at him. You were not so naive as to miss his taunts, but you were sick enough to take pleasure in the embarrassment he was causing you. Jay laughed because he thought you were cute and there were no rumours that you were sleeping with the whole football team. He made them up himself to see how smart you are, and you were clearly one of the dumbest girls he has ever met. Probably the sluttiest too.
Lucky for you, he loved sluts.
You did not have time to think when he lifted your skirt, revealing your drenched panties, which were stuck to your pussy lips. "I- Doctor Park, what the hell are you doing!" You yelled at him, attempting to push your skirt down, but he held it firmly between his fingers. "Stop pretending, baby; you have been doing this for weeks, trying to seduce me with your pathetic excuse of tops barely holding your saggy tits and these fucking skirts that keep getting shorter, coming to my office almost every day." He paused for a moment licking his lips at the sight of your soaked panties. "Did you enjoy the humiliation I put you through, y/n? it made your pussy throb, yeah?"
You let out a small moan and nodded desperately, letting your fake innocent demeanour slip as you grabbed his hand, which was holding the hem of your skirt and guiding it onto your cunt. "Please, Doctor Park, it hurts."
He chuckled in response, shaking his head slightly. "Well, as your doctor, I must investigate what is going on with you, princess." His eyes were filled with lust. He pushed his morality and principles to the back of his mind. Fuck, he needed your slutty pussy right now. It was the prettiest cunt he would ever see, and he was not going to pass up this opportunity to use you.
He removed his hand from your crotch and opened the drawer in front of him. You watched him with curiosity, desperate to get his fingers, mouth, and cock inside you right away. He shuffled through his belongings before reaching for a pair of white gloves and putting them on. Your eyes widened at his actions.
"Your little nasty pussy does not deserve to be touched by my bare hands." He spoke in a low deep voice earning a whine from you. "Fuck, look at those juices. You are such a shameless whore." You felt your insides twist at his tone change. He was such an unpredictable man with no filter, treating you in the most humiliating ways, which only made you want him more. You would let him do whatever he wanted with you. You were down bad for him.
Without any warning he inserted his gloved finger inside you, it went in so smoothly as you were completely drenched. "Are you enjoying this? How embarassing y/n, is this why you joined this university? To suck cocks? To have your little cunt pounded by everyone?" You didn't reply to any of his questions busy in pleasure be was giving you, letting out small whimpers. He added two more fingers, aggressively fingering you. The wet, gushing sounds filled the room: "Doctor Park... P-please. Want to feel your fingers." You begged, squirming around, getting closer to your high. He ignored your words and lifted your tube top above your stomach, exposing your belly button to him. "Would you like to be fucked there too?" He aggressively pushed his other hand's fingers inside your belly button. You give a squeak at the sensation, moaning like the whore you are.
Your cunt and belly button getting fingered by his thick fingers simultaneously, releasing waves of pleasures inside you. You were thrashing around uncontrollably, overcome with pleasure. "Calm down, slut. I'm just getting started. Turn around." He ordered and you complied feeling a bit disappointed that you didn't get to cum. "but I didn't..." He cut you off harshly after landing a slap on your pussy "Not everything is about you."
He stuck your underwear in a wedgie, and you winced at the burning sensation on your pussy lips. Without warning, he pulled the wedgie and snapped it back, causing you to let out a painful screech. "This is how dirty little girls like you deserve to be treated," he said before snapping the wedgie several more times. You thrashed around, biting your palm to muffle your voice. He eventually stopped his assault on your ass crack and removed your underwear. What further humiliated you was the way he held your underwear with just two fingers treating it like some dirty trash. "Put this drenched shit in your mouth so you'll keep your dumb mouth shut." He threw the underwear in your face, and you did as he said, shoving it inside your mouth. You could taste the sweetness of your juices inside your mouth.
You never knew being treated in such humiliating way would turn you on so much. "Fuck look at this ass" he grunted kneading the flesh in his gloved hands. His cock was about to burst through his trousers. He enjoyed treating you in this manner because that is what dumb little cock sluts like you deserve, constantly seducing people and putting their jobs in risk. You needed to be taught a lesson that would put you in your proper place.
He began spanking your ass harshly until you were numb, your moans muffled by your panties. "This. is. exactly what naughty girls like you deserve." He spat on your asshole making sure it's lubricated enough. "I have no intention of using your nasty pussy but this tight ass deserve to be pounded." He unbuckled his belt throwing it aside and letting his cock stand in all glory. You tried to turn back, to look at his cock but he smacked your ass again "Don't turn back. I don't wanna see your spit covered dirty face." He degraded you before lifting you by the stomach and placing you on your hands and knees.
He pushed his cock into your hole, letting out the most seductive moan that nearly made you cum. "Mhmm..." You let out a muffled moan, and despite the pain, you could not stop pushing back on his cock. He began to pound into you with great speed, his hips slamming into your bruised ass. The pain from the wedgie assault lingered, and him pushing his cock into your whole aggravated it.
"Messy dumb slut." He yanked your hair back, his hips moving with uncontrollable speed. "Fuck, this is what you wanted right? To be fucked by me? To be treated like nothing, you are truly shameful." His words kept pushing you to your edge. Jay bit his lip at your state, your plump ass looked so bruised. Your belly button was red from his assault. He felt all of his stress disappear as he fucked your ass. "Touch yourself for me, baby," he asked, and you began to rub your clit vigorously, feeling your high return, but before you could cum, he pulled out his cock and released himself over your ass. You took out the underwear from your mouth. "Doctor park, I couldn't cum." You whined, panting loudly. He didn't reply, taking his gloves out before disposing them into the trash can nearby.
"And? How is that my problem?" He asked cockily, sitting back in his chair, manspreading, his cock still out. "Doctor park that's not fair!" You yelled in frustration before crawling out of bed, landing on your knees. Jay bit his lip at your sight, you looked so desparate and filthy. "Suck my cock and make yourself cum, angel." He pushed his leather shoe on your clit. You immediately took his cock in your mouth slurping on it messy while grinding on his hoe. "You dirty insatiable girl!" He said chuckling at your messed up state pushing your mouth deeper onto his cock.
You were still grinding hard on his hoe, moaning on his cock and rubbing your covered breast against his leg. Lost in the blissful pleasure he was receiving from your sensual lips, he was letting out soft moans. You were truly like the wettest and the filthiest dream he ever had. You came on his shoe grinding like a whore and he pushed you back before spraying his cum on your top. You both took few minutes to catch your breath before he wore his pants back and glanced at your dumb state. "Get up." He gave the order, and you stumbled to your feet, drenched in sweat, saliva, and cum. "Pick your underwear and clean my shoe."
You obeyed his orders cleaning his shoe with your underwear "Wear them back." You were about to protest, but his one look stopped you, and you wore the dirty, completely drenched panties back. You felt so nasty yet so good. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, running your hand through his styled hair, messing it up. He patted your ass, breaking off the kiss. "You can rest on the bed while I bring you something to eat." He said, and you felt the heat rush back into your face as you nodded shyly. You laid back on the bed watching him collect his things. "Remember don't remove the underwear till your day ends, it will be a reminder for you to know what happens to naughty pretentious girls like you."
His words made you whine and nod submissively, "Perhaps I will use your little pussy next time, princess."
#enhypen smut#jay smut#enhypen jay smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#jay x you#jay x reader#kpop smut#dark enhypen
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obedient little bitch
featuring. alpha!konig x omega!reader x alpha!ghost
cw. !smut! a/b/o dynamics, oral (m! giving and recieving), throat fucking, breeding, cockwarming , threesome, stomach bulge, a little dub-con, face sitting, a bit thigh riding, fingering
a/n. i present you a masterpiece which was written by my bestie, who doesn't have a tumblr acc ^^ copy/pasted it and did some changes. credit goes to my lil pookie baby :3
~Ghost POV~
It was just another day like many. Get up, eat, patrols and missions, repeat. Boring and draining until I walked down the halls with a college of mine ,Konig. Despite us both being alphas we got along...well most of the time.
Most of us here were alphas ,we had an omega here a year ago as far as I remember but he died on the battle field. To no ones surpise being honest.
Walking down into our quarters, it felt like every nerve in my body was suddenly on edge ,I looked over at my friend. I could only see his pupils delate and the way he was beginning to sweat under his balaclava before both of us knew exactly what drove us wild...only a sweet and innocent little omega in fresh heat could cause something like this.
Neither of us wasted any time to follow that sweet ,sweet scent of pheromones in the air. To our suprise, the alluring smell brought us right to our room. So our little cadet was indeed just an omega that hid herself from us what a naughty ,naughty girl...
Quickly bursting into the door we already saw her on the bed ,panting ,sweating ,curled up on her bed with a nest built of our clothing. I could already smell that sweet cunt calling for me.
Before I even registered it ,Konig had ripped off his balaclava ,barley able to contain himself from pouncing on this sweet little thing. I would be lying if I said I didnt want to sink my teeth into that delicate little neck.
Smirking ,the both of us hungrily walked over to her. The fear yet begging to be knotted in her eyes was all we needed to know. Neither of us had to say a word before that obedient little bitch in heat rolled onto her back ,exposing that cute tummy.. which soon will bulge with cum...from us.
"Please- I.." ,she panted ,begging softly , "I don't know what's going on.." "A first time heater hm?.." ,Konig chuckled darkly ,the thrive to ruin that innocent litte slut was written all over his face.
She nod pathetically ,whining softly for us. My friend was the first to climb onto the bed with her ,quickly getting rid of his ,either way ,sweaty shirt. I could hear him growling before he went down on her. Grabbing her by the legs and dragging her towards him ,pulling her onto his lap. And fuck would I be a liar if this didn't turn me on ,but I decided to be patient for now ,sitting down on the edge of the bed while slowly palming my already hard cock through my pants.
Konig on the other hand wasn't patient ,he quickly got to work and pulled off her shirt ,as she wrapped her delicate arms around his neck he began to grope those perfect breasts. Not to big ,not to small ,perfectly fitting into the palm. And shit ,it almost made me cum on the spot when I heard her moan and his silent groan fill the air.
"I bet those nipples are begging to get sucked hm?... Little Omegas like you are always so sensitive in their heat.." ,he chuckled before unclipping her bra ,throwing it off to the side. Damn was it a sight to see those perfect tits bounce slightly, begging to be sucked. And rather quickly was their wish acknowledged as I heard Konigs slurps fill the air. Watching her arch ,throw her head back and whimper as her hands tangeled into his hair.
It was to much. Even if I wanted to be patient I simply had to ,pulling down my pants and slowly teasing my sensitive tip with my thumb. My friend on the other hand rolled her sensitive nipples between his fingers ,pulling and pinching them, earning moan after moan from that eager little omega.
Mindlessly, she began to grind her hips along his tigh. "That sweet little pussy must be begging for friction." ,I tought to myself. "Yeah ,you like riding my thigh?" ,Konig groaned ,flexing his thigh before grabbing her hips , controlling the pace as he slowly dragged that delicious cunt along his thigh. It was one hell of a show to see these two get all hot and bothered. Like a real time porn, but better of course, and I was defenetily not complaining.
Watching my friend drag his tounge between her tits before sucking on one of those nipples ,hell ,what would I give to suck on those breasts. I heard him groan as he moved his hand down ,his thumb finding her sweet little clit. Rubbing tight circles into the sensitive nerve bundle ,adding to the sensation of her slick folds dragging along his thigh.
This was simply to much , I wasn't able to control myself any longer. I had to get a taste of that sweet wetness. "Move man." ,I growled under my breath as I stomped over, snatching that sweet omega from his lap and throwing her onto the bed and ripping off any remaining clothes that could get between me and my meal. "Damn ,someone's hungry" ,Konig snickered. His voice thick with lust and desire.
It was his time to wait and watch while I had my fun. She looked all shy ,rubbing those soft thighs together in desperate need of friction. Laying down on my back I pulled her on top of me ,my hands locking around her thighs as I pulled her dripping cunt to my face ,yet she pulled back ,hesitating.
"I'll suffocate you..." ,that sweet thing mumbled nervously. "Even if you do ,that horny slut would die a happy man ,now sit down." ,Konig demanded while pushing her hips down. I felt her weight on me ,yet it didn't bother me. She earned herself a groan once I let my tongue run through her folds and those plush thighs locked around my head.
I was eating that sweet pussy like a starved man ,lapping between her entrance and that soft clit ,licking ,teasing ,sucking those sensitive sweet spots. I couldn't see ,but I felt her arching her back ,moaning and crying my name while her delicate fingers ran through my hair. It felt like she tried to shove my face deeper into that sweetness and let me tell you ,I was surely not gonna complain.
"Fuck- you taste so damn good.." ,I rasped ,getting lost in the moment before I felt someone grab onto my exposed dick ,slowly dragging their hand along my shaft. I mindlessly bucked my hips up into the delicious friction until something clicked.
This wasn't this sweet omegas hand ,the hand felt way to rough and big for that ,her hands were still tangled in my hair anyway. And once I heard that motherfucker groan ,I knew it. "Konig-!" ,I snarled. That bitch only chuckled in response. "Relax..keep licking that cunt clean while I work on some...business" ,he snickered before my eyes almost rolled back. The sensation of his warm mouth greedily welcoming my tip ,his lips wrapping around my length ,swallowing inch after inch ,painfully slow.
I never tought I was intrested in men but damn was that tall-ass good at sucking cock. While Konig seemed to be enjoying his meal, I was enjoying mine. Meanwhile my hands got to work too ,two of my fingers finding their way into that little pussy ,rubbing and stimulating her g-spot, while sucking on her clit did wonders and slowly worked that tightness open.
Heavy slurps filled the room as Konig had managed to swallow all of me ,his tongue massaging the underside of my shaft ,bobbing his head up and down as his hand gently squeezed and played with my balls. Shit-..I knew my family jewelery was sensitive but fuck, Konig took it to a whole other level.
That cocky fuck has been edging me for a while now ,no matter how much I bucked my hips he would always stop sucking last second. "Shove his fucking head down-!" ,I snarled between licking those tasty juices.
And ta-da. My obedient princess obeyed in no time ,grabbing onto Konigs head and shoving it down ,all the way till his nose touched my pubic bone.He gagged loudly ,his pretty throat tightening around my thick shaft. Fuck ,I could've came right on the spot. What little pleasure can do to a women ,mindlessly obeying commands. Either way ,I was just as eager to taste her cum so I let my fingers work quicker.
"I'm gonna- Simon please ,please-! I'm gon-!" ,she cried out. And before she could even finish her sentence I felt her walls almost crush my fingers. Her juices flew out of her and right onto my eager tongue. I quickly swallowed up all of her sweet juices.
Konig in the meantime continued to slurp around my shaft ,I could feel his saliva dripping down between my legs. I don't even care to be honest ,spit running out of his mouth and all over me. With a finally squeeze of my balls ,I came ,harder than I expected.Konig groaned and gagged around my twitching cock as ropes of warm white cum slowly ran down his throat. And before I had to even say a word ,he swallowed.
That sweet omega was panting ,almost limp as she barley had the strength to keep herself upright. And once Konig released my shaft I settled her down on the bed. "Let her head hang of the bed." ,my friend rasped with a smug grin. And so I did. Moving her either way limp body so her head hung off the bed slightly.
I didn't care what Konig had planned. What I cared for was this pussy. Grabbing her thighs and spreading them pretty once more as I grabbed my dick ,slowly teasing my tip around her entrance. That sweet yelp was all I needed to know before I slid the tip in. That slut was so wet it slid in like butter. Her thighs trembeled in my hands as I slowly inserted inch after inch.She arched her back of the bed ,panting like a dog while her eyes rolled back.
"Cute slut.." ,Konig cooed before rubbing his tip with pre over her lips. "Now say ah~..." obediently ,she opened her mouth ,placing her hands against his thighs before letting him stuff his dick into her mouth like some cheap whore. She gagged ,yet I heard her submissively slurp and suck his cock. And taking by the way he groaned and bucked his hips, Konig loved it.
Those tight walls wrapped around me- fuck I felt like a virgin again ,getting pussy for the first time was nothing compared to this hot ,tight little cunt. She had adjusted enough in my eyes before I began to gently pull out and slam back in. Her whole body rocked forward ,and watching those tits bounce? Incredible. My hand moved between our connected bodies to rub her clit. My goal was to leave a mark on that body. My dick reaching depths she probably didn't know existed.
Fucked from rear and front she took it like a slut. Our pretty little slut at that. It didn't take long before Konig shoved his cock balls deep into that sweet mouth ,groaning out "cumming-" ,before slowly pulling out of her mouth. "Good girl.." ,he praised while gently caressing her throat.
His sharp gaze now lingered on me as I fucked this pussy into exercy. She was a moaning mess ,arching her back before she came without a warning ,probably to dumbfucked to get a proper word out. The way that already tight pussy gripped my cock made it feel like she was crushing it. Which ,to no ones suprise ,made me cum at that tightness. I let her ride out her delicious high by lazily rolling my hips into hers ,rubbing her clit raw until she jerked away at the slightest friction.
I pulled out slowly ,watching my cum ooze out of her little hole. Now as I looked at that sweaty ,fucked out mess of an Omega ,her tummy indeed had a slight bulge from my cum nestled inside her. "Ah ah ah..dont waste those precious juices." ,Konig spoke sofly yet with a chuckle before he pulled her into a spooning position. Slowly inserting his thick shaft into her twitching hole ,stopping any cum from seeping out further. She moaned at the sensation yet stayed limp and all cuddly in his arms.
"Cockwarming eh?" ,I teased. "What can I say ,I like a warm ,tight pussy wrapped around me." ,Konig snickered back before beginning to caress her hair. A little cuddle session after this didn't sound too bad...so I decided to join them ,getting next to our well bred little omega and wrapping my arms around her.
#lia.writes#cod#cod smut#cod x reader#cod könig#cod ghost#call of duty#call of duty smut#könig smut#ghost smut#simon riley#simon riley smut#ghost x reader#könig x reader#smut#cod simon riley
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#warning: long complaining rant abt my day incoming#now that saturday is officially over here where im at#can i just say fuck yesterday?? yeah. fuck yesterday#day started with finding that my betta died last night:( hed been sick as fuck for a while but id been trying rly hard to help and i rly#thought hed started getting better this week but. i guess not... to the person who msgd me & wished him well thank you very much<3<3<3#i really really appreciated it even tho i didnt know how to respond at the time#but. yeah. hhhh.#and bc of. all that:( i was an hour+ late to work this morning -- & as always im the only one scheduled to work up front for saturdays#so i felt so fucking bad for keeping my boss waiting up front instead of letting him go out to the fields like hed planned#and then we were busy as SHIT all day holy fuck. but i was very very lucky that the weather was ok & everyone who came today was super nice#and my ride to take me home was an hour+ late to pick me up -- so i stayed clocked in until they finally got there. & the coworker who was#supposed to be my shift relief didnt show up until 5 minuted before my ride did bc THEY were an hour+ late to work too#but i had so much shit i needed to do today after work and i just fucking COULDN'T bc being at work that long took all of my goddamn spoons#bc i was switching btween manual labor & so fucken MUCH human interaction & then back as soon as i had 30secs w/out someone talking to me#and again!! they were all so so nice!! if i wasnt already having a bad day im sure it wouldnt have taken NEARLY as many spoons. but i didnt#want to talk to anyone and i didnt want to do my usual cheery-chirpy shtick i automatically use bc of the adhd-masking+social anxiety shit#that always makes my coworker laugh bc apparently my customer service voice is just ''tour-guide barbie up an octave''#but like. yeah. that ate up every goddamn resource id managed to scrounge up after an already difficult week#which is. going to be a problem for tomorrow+next week!!! aaaaaaa!!!#i havent even made a DENT in the packing i have to finish before noon todayyy#im so so so excited for tmrw bc im FINALLY getting to see my partner after more than a month bUt im ALSO going to be spending the day with#their family and im so fucken nervous bc i love them and i already REALLY like their family but what if i fuck it up somehow. idek what to#WEAR bc its a party but when i asked their mom abt dresscode she just said ''come comfortable!🙂'' which one would THINK would make it EASY#but nOoOo bc EYE'VE never been COMFORTABLE at a social gathering in my LIFE#and then monday that ive gotta go drive back to my stupid SCHOOL bc ive got a 10-day JOB up there and im ALSO nervous about THAT#even tho ive done it twice before!! but this time IM gonna be the only student on the team thats ever done it and im 😬#hhhhhHHHH. and ive sat here shaking and typing this for 30 minutes instead of packing. still. bc im exhausted but havent done JACK SHIT#if im being fair to myself i will say i DID manage to take a shower and do laundry. which were both necessary steps! but also. the damn#fuck-ass dryer DIED HALFWAY THRU. bc fuck me ig. lmfao. life is a comedy of errors and im the damn player getting laughed off the stage#bee speaks
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OK since requests are open I thought I might as well do another ask with once again Lucifer and Lilith soooo
I ask for Lucifer x Lilith x a human reader, and uhm, maybe when Lucifer and Lilith are out for some reason. Reader gets attacked at the castle? Smthn like that but im mainly asking for maybe some type of one-shot or hcs idk with a human reader that gets hurt badly when lucifer and lilith aren't there and their reaction to such ig.
Otherwise, if you wish to not write this please tell me
And yes, Luci icon twins^^
- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Romantic]
In which they aren't there to protect you from bountyhunters, and you end up greatly injured. Reader is genderneutral.
Not many attacks are made on their residence for a reason
You need to be crazy powerful to survive Lucifer, let alone Lilith and the many well-trained servants in the estate
Whoever tried either died gruesomely or was never seen again, huge powerhouses of hell wiped out in an instant
Or two, if Lilith felt like teasing them
Today was not like any other because it was baby Charlie's tenth birthday!
A decade of life was worth a large celebration, and Charlie wanted many of the servants she grew up around to be there
Of course, you were going too! Charlie had always accepted you like a parent, which you were beyond grateful for, and you'd even gotten her something special
Only halfway out the door did you realize you'd forgotten it upstairs, so you excused yourself and told Lilith to go ahead
" I don't want anyone to see! Besides, I'll bring the cool car, and Charlie can ride back in it with me! "
You also enjoyed the idea of letting the birthday girl be with her birth parents for a bit
Only, as you grabbed the present and made your way back downstairs, you heard something shatter
There were still a few guards around the palace, but still, this was nothing good if they knew to attack while the Morningstars were out
Before you could call Lucifer, a shot rang out, your phone falling to the floor as you stared at your bleeding palm
Fuck, fuck, fuck that hurt-
Clutching the present, your attempt to duck was futile as another shot rang, hitting your opposite shoulder and sending you to the floor
The pain was severe, and you knew why—this was no normal gun; it had to have been an angel weapon
" It's just a stupid servant; stop wastin' bullets. "
" But look! They're holding somethin' real nice; it looks like a crown! "
Upon hearing them talk about the gift you got for Charlie, you began crawling away
Bang!
Another shot in the knee; your vision was starting to blur with tears
Before you could get away any further, you felt a kick to your side, which sent you into the wall
" Just grab it and go. Stupid royals are probably on their way already. "
One more kick, straight to your head, and you were out
...
...
. . .
" ...ke up! Wake up! "
Your head felt fucking terrible, and when you cracked open your eyes even a bit, the light was blinding
As you adjusted, you could hear Lucifer cheering and clapping, and you could make out Lilith on the side of the bed, hushing him with one hand over yours
You could tell you were in their bed, judging by the familiar scent and room, but you had no recollection of what was happening
" Before you ask, the bountyhunters have been dealt with, dear. They hurt you. "
Lilith's voice was calming as always, and she held up your hand to caress it between both of hers, hoping to soothe you
" Bountyhunters...? "
" Thats right, I sure showed them! I wasn't sure which one did it, so Lily and I gave them all special treatment! "
Lucifer seemed proud as he held up his arms as if flexing, but his grin was a little wobbly, and you could tell he was putting up a front
Things started to puzzle together, and that was when you lifted yourself up, holding your head
" Fuck. Poor Charlie, it was her birthday! "
" I'm sure she understands. We didn't want her to worry, so we let her stay at the party while we handled things. She's most worried about you. "
Lilith reached back and propped up the pillows so you could stay seated, making sure you were most comfortable while Lucifer paced
Looking down at the hand she caressed, you noticed it was entirely wrapped in bandages
" They weren't normal guns. "
" Yes, I'm afraid it won't heal very well. But we will make certain you get the best care. "
Standing up, Lilith grabbed Lucifer by the arm and pulled him towards the door
They wanted to make sure you could rest, and a servant entered quickly with a tray of food and a warm beverage
" Oh yes! I can't wait to finish them off. "
" Wait, they're alive? "
" Not for much longer, dear. Lucifer thought we should save the rest for after you woke up. "
" Well, make it extra rough for me. "
You won't have to worry about those who hurt you ever, ever again
Author's Note - I feel so iconic having the lucifer icon pre-episode release, we are a power duo!
#koko writez#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hazbin hotel x reader#helluva boss x reader#reader insert#x reader#lucifer#lucifer x reader#lilith#lilith x reader
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teehee I have a small thought (batfam related, yk that one where y/n gets killed)
imagine if y/n was brought back by the pit, but instead of being a "shell" in that hc u made, she becomes completely stoic, like just blurts out what she was feeling back when she was neglected with the most blank expression ever, I imagine it being more focused on bruce and Damian since yk..bruce was the shittiest parent ever, and Damian with his sparky ass insults.
You…God, damnit Anon. You summoned me and I suddenly have the motivation to write after reading your two requests.
I don't know if you wanted a one-shot or HC. So I just went with a HC because it's much easier to push out. Though if you want me to make a one-shot feel free to ask. I'll take 7 years to write it. Though at the end I did sort of a one-shot.
Damian should have known something was wrong when y/n didn't start thrashing around and attacking anything that moved after crawling out of the pit. She just stared at her hands, clenching them into firsts and then unclenching them slowly.
Maybe Damian was too relieved to see y/n breathing and moving to really care. Maybe he thought that she was just in shock. Coming back to life isn't always expected and it can take a real toll on someone.
Not to mention that y/n was, compared to her brothers, far weaker. Not just physically, but mentally as well. So it's not surprising that she was so docile, right? It's only a matter of time before that effect wears off and she'll be normal. Or something close to normal.
Okay, maybe deep down Damian knew that there was a chance that he wasn't getting y/n back. Everyone knew that there was no getting her back, but he was willing to take the risk. He came this far and it didn't take long for Bruce to pick up on what his youngest was doing.
Damian has his big sister back and he's not going to let her go again. It's only a matter of hours before Bruce comes breaking down the door to drag them back to Gotham. So Damian took the time to clean up y/n.
She was still in her funeral clothes for goodness sake. She reeked of death, but that didn't stop the boy from hugging her tightly.
While getting cleaned up, she doesn't say a thing. Or even make a lot of noise. It was almost like she was still dead.
By the time Bruce gets there, he's not surprised by Damian's actions. He thought of doing the same thing, but he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He couldn't disrespect her life by bringing her back. How could he dare think of that when she looked so at peace when she died.
He remembers how her body was tense before it became horrifyingly relaxed. There was a fear of death in those [eye color] eyes, he knows because he saw it. But it was so quick and fleeting that he could have missed it if he wasn't so close.
In a twisted way he wished y/n had clung on to him just like she did when she was a wide eyed little girl and cried. Cry that she didn't want to die. Cry that it was too early to leave now. Cry that she didn't want to leave them.
But all she did was give a crooked smile and mumble to herself as blood dribbled down her chin. She spoke incoherent things to herself. A name or two slipped from her cold lips, but they weren't ones of her family. From what he gathered it was just a close friend and her significant other's name. She died thinking of those who cared and loved her back. Not of the family that she couldn't stand to be around.
Even when her own adopted father held her dying from close, they were far from her line of thought.
So seeing y/n alive was gut reaching for Bruce. There was no pain, anger, sadness, or joy on her face. She was just there. Staring at him with an uncomfortable indifference.
Damian was ready to start a fight with Bruce. Not a physical one, but he would cross that line if he needed to. He was ready to defend himself in what he thought was best for y/n. Yet Bruce lets out a quiet sigh and tells that it's time to come home. How anticlimactic.
The plane ride back to Gotham is long and quiet. It also felt cramped by how close Damian was to y/n and unwilling to give her too much space.
By the time they made it back to the manor, everyone was caught up to date. The development is surprising to some while others not so much.
Everyone is in the bat cave. Gathered around to see y/n back from the dead. The silence is deafening as they wait for something. Just something from her, but she walked past them all. Out of the cave and to where her room was. Nothing was out of place in her room, though it was mostly empty after she had moved out a few years ago. She laid on her bed and slept as if nothing was amiss.
That's where the family infighting starts. Question of was this the right thing. What are going to do now? Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? There's going to be a lot of hash words being shared, but at the end of the day what was done was done and they had y/n back. They weren't going to mess up the second time.
Did they really get a second chance because it didn't feel like it. A week would pass and y/n has yet to come out of her room. She's alive and breathing because the trays of food left outside her door are always empty.
The camera's installed while she slept showed that she was doing nothing. All she did was lay in bed. She'd get up to use her private bathroom, but other than that there wasn't much. She was rotting away alone in her room.
This rang familiar bells in Alfred, Bruce, and Tim's head. y/n wasn't prone to long depressive episodes, so this could be something similar. The lack of socializing and excessive oversleeping was typically a big red sign for them to do something. In the past they would not force, but push her into doing social things or at least being out of her room.
They could approach this situation the same way, but they'd have to be extra careful. This was a unique and tricky situation to be in. It was also odd if not worrying that she hasn't succumbed to lazarus fever.
They could try to bribe y/n out of her room with activities that have to do with her old hobbies.
"Alfred is baking today, he said might need some help."
"I just stole the keys to the batmobile, you wanna take it for a ride?"
"Hey, do you want to…um, play a video game with me. I remember we used to play Hellflight Deadcraze a lot. They came out with the 3rd game. I just bought it today, so...Yeah."
Though the likelihood of that working is low. If they're really desperate to interact with her, they might as well just bust down her door.
At some point all the poking and prodding is going to irritate y/n. Whoever popped her bubble is going to be on the receiving end of pent up emotions.
I don't believe y/n would ever intentionally say how much the family's treatment harmed her. Again it would bubble up and fester for a while before she explodes. The thing about y/n is that she has an inferiority complex. In her life she aimed to please and help.
She understands that Gotham is dangerous. A lot of people need help and she couldn't bring herself to pull them away from their job. To her it would be like pulling a fireman away from a fire to chat as people burned alive. Even if the fire was out the fireman would be tired and need to rest, so she couldn't just pull them wherever she wanted to go. She shouldn't pester them.
In y/n's eyes, she was never worthy of being a hero because she wasn't good enough. She was never worthy of being with the family because she wasn't helping enough. She should do this to prove her worth. She's not worthless because she can do this for you and this as well!
She embodies inferiority and self-loathing. Someone that feels insignificant and has the strong urge to do more. She has- or had in this situation, hope. Hope that she'll be worthy of love. Love, affection, praise is what drives her and will seek it out if she's desperate. If she does ask or seek it out she'll be feeling guilty since she didn't really do anything to get it. In her mind she was being greedy and she couldn't help herself.
Bonus
"Just stop. Leave me alone." Her voice was almost pleading as she gripped the wrapped gift box. The gift was a symbol of peace, almost a treaty. That's all it was supposed to be, but she acts as if she had been spat in the eye.
Seeing that Bruce wasn't listening to her, she dug her nails into the gift. Almost tearing into the [favorite color] wrapped paper. He stood before her like an unmoving entity. The longer he stood by the more she wanted to snap into herself. She didn't want to slowly curl into a ball. She wanted to snap herself together with a violent and almost sickening crack. This just wasn't fair.
Clenching her jaw, her voice became much colder. It wasn't as cold as the middle of winter, yet it still had a chill to it.
"I thought you'd get it that I didn't want this. I shut you out, but you- all of you just keep buzzing. None of you are getting the hint. You just keep coming back louder than before. Why can't you let me be alone? Why can't you act overworked and tired? Why can't you just leave things the way they were?"
Bruce was conflicted upon hearing her say that and would try to claim that everything is going to come around. Everything always comes around in the end and this wouldn't be any different. They are going to get through this as a family.
y/n's frown would deepen and her eyes would furrow at his attempt at comfort. She looks as if she just ate something that was expired, leaving her mouth with nothing but a nasty sour taste.
"Because we're family." She whispered to herself before almost grimacing at the words. Her voice became sharp and cold as a blade, "I don't understand why you'd suggest that I was still a part of the family. I don't think I've been family for a good while now."
She clicked her tongue as she dropped the gift box while looking Bruce in the eyes. "Come on, you can't say you cared about me after I stopped being useful. When did you realize that I wasn't anything special? Was it when I kept crying about punching villains or when I was too slow to teach."
Seeing the conflicted look in his blue eyes confused her. Why would the truth conflict someone unless it was pity. Even after all this she's just a pitiful little crybaby to him. One good hit and she's out wailing on the floor for someone to kiss her boo-boo away.
Somehow this hurt her. Her pounding heart felt like it was twisting on itself. She wanted to cry and laugh at how she thought things couldn't get any worse. Then somehow it did. The universe, the world, the Wayne had proved her wrong yet again. It was as funny as it was sad.
She could have broken down there, but she needed to hear it. She had to hear the truth, so she kept twisting her heart with her own hands. It didn't matter how much it hurt.
"Or maybe you were in denial? You had wasted a lot of time and resources on a dud. Then Damian threw cold water on you and left you shivering, right? I'm just leeching off of you and the others. Then…Then you choose them over me. I was an afterthought, or is that being too generous? Did I ever circulate in your mind before this?"
Her voice was becoming shrill and gruff like she was on the verge of tears. "When did you realize that I was dead weight, Batman? Did I make Bruce Wayne look more caring to the people when I talk about how much I love my family? Did my life serve any use or was I always just a speck of dirt on your shoes?"
Those words were far from the truth, yet with how she spoke Bruce knew that she believed in all that she was saying. Each and every word was true to her. Honestly he didn't know what to say. This was all too much. Having to hear your own child degrade themselves with such honesty was heartbreaking.
Taking his silence as a sort of confirmation, y/n ordered him to leave and of course he did. He'd fix this somehow. He just needed time. They needed time.
I cut off the ending because I didn't want to write too much. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't proofread this, Google Doc says there aren't any errors (probably a lie), and it's 3 in the morning. Goodnight.
#batfamily x batsis#batfamily x reader#batsis reader#yandere batfam#God damn you anon#you beautiful bastard#I'll clean this up later when I sleep#x reader#x batsis reader
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I’ve had a crush on my roommate since we met in the summer, and I thought he liked me too, but he said we couldn’t when I finally got up the nerve to ask him out before break. He said he had to do something first, and left for break. I was so sad, but then on new years he texted me his resolution had been to become a “real man” for me this year… any idea what I should expect now that break is done?
A Real Man
You hoped that winter break would be a nice break from the weight of your confession to your roommate, Sean, but it was all you could think about. Had you made a mistake? Did you miss the signal?
You had talked with Sean occasionally, but not as much as on New Year's. While you didn't believe in all the superstitions around it, you still silently made a wish for the new year; making Sean yours. As the new year rolled in, you celebrated alone, hoping your wish would come true.
Fortunately, the wait wouldn't be long. Just a few minutes past midnight, you get a text on your phone from an unlikely source, Sean. Soon, the two of you were in full conversation. With plans for the new year being discussed, he drops a bomb. “Just letting you know, my resolution is to be a real man for you this year," he texted.
Intrigue came over you as you continued to text back and forth with him. As the conversation died down, he sent a final message that stopped you in your tracks. "Hope to see you soon, until then, hope these can hold you over." He sent the message with two attached photos, and as you scrolled up to see them, your jaw dropped.
The photo leaves you breathless, as you lay witness to just what he meant. He was huge, practically unrecognizable. Drooling over the pictures, to rushed to reply, "I hope to see you soon!" You winced at the exclamation mark in your text, hoping you weren't coming off too thirsty, but dirty thoughts were buzzing throughout your mind.
With winter break drawing to its close, you decided to leave early for campus, packing your bags and booking your flight. While you mainly wanted the extra time to pack, being able to see Sean too wouldn't hurt at all. You scheduled an Uber before getting on your flight, not wanting to bother anyone for a ride on campus. With goodbye texts sent, you got on the plane and dozed off as you got in the air.
As your plane begins its descent, you come to. You start to check for any missed texts, when you're met with one that catches your eye.
"I'll come get you from the airport."
Sean attached two photos of him and simply replied, "I'm ready." You trembled at the certainty of his response, even through text, and braced yourself for the car ride home.
As he put your suitcases in the car, his muscles bulged through his tank top, making your heart flutter. "Thank you so much," you said as you put your duffel bag in his car. "This is the treatment you deserve," he said as he laid a kiss on your forehead. You blushed, not used to this level of chivalry. The two of you recapped your winter breaks on the ride back, with giggling and somber moments included.
He brought your luggage inside, and you were entirely confused as to the sudden change in character. With the last of your bags inside, you demanded an explanation. The two of you sat down as he began to explain. "I know it sounds crazy, but I knew I wasn't right for you back when you first asked," he said. He continued, "That was my wake-up call, and so I had to get things right so I could live up to my promise." His expression darkened as he got closer, now standing above you. "I want to show you just how ready I am if you let me." Your reply was breathy, as your voice began to tremble under his dominance. "I want you, Sean." His response came in a dark tone:
"Kneel."
Your body responded before your mind could, as you kneeled on the floor, grasping onto his massive hands. He pulled down his pants, and his cock rose up in an instant. Looking over his huge dick, you wondered how you were going to suck it. Hoping to not have that question answered, you began giving him a handjob, your hands made minuscule against his massive cock.
But it was clear that wasn't enough. Sean looked down and moved your hands off his dick. His rock-hard cock was once more in your face, and you knew what was coming next.
Opening your mouth wide, he slid his cock inside your mouth. As he filled you up, you were forced to breathe from your nose, as his cock went further and further down your throat. Sean threw his head back in pleasure and began slowly sliding his cock out, immediately leaving you wanting more. In an instant, his hand was now gripping your head, as thrust his cock in and out of your mouth.
Cum had filled every part of your throat, and your face was a mess. He had asserted himself. His softer side revealed itself as he helped clean you up, picking you up and taking you to the shower, where he finally fucked you, his cock filling you like a key in a lock. It was bliss. As hot water made the heat inside you burn even hotter, you couldn't help yourself from coming, and Sean, noticing your release, sped up his thrusts to catch up to you.
The both of you finished your shower, even messier than when you entered. You both slept in Sean's room that night, as you cuddled deep into him. Sean had shown exactly what he meant, and you were overjoyed. It was looking like a wonderful start to your semester, and you thanked your lucky stars that your wish came true.
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Wasteland, Baby
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: 3.4k
TW: Mentions of Murders, mentions of suicide, discussion of suicide, trauma, emotional turmoil, death, arguing, abandonment issues, commitment issues, Angst, some fluff
A/N: Thanks for bearing with me as I try to get off the struggle bus y'all. here is the highly anticipated part 2 of Stick Season !
All the fear and the fire of the end of the world
Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl
Happens great, happens sweet
Happily, I'm unfazed here, too
It had been three years since you left the BAU and you had just turned down a job at the FBI from Erin Strauss. You never heard from her again.
But you did attend her funeral in D.C a week later.
You didn’t alert any of the BAU that you were returning for her funeral, since you could only imagine the pain they were feeling.
The plane ride was filled with thoughts of what life would have been like if you had rejoined the FBI. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Maybe she’d still be calling you and sending you email after email with job offers.
You had quickly stopped by the wake, the day before, to pay your respects, and give Strauss’ family your deepest condolences. It was painful, seeing someone you spoke to last week, stiff, lifeless, in a coffin where they will be for the rest of time.
But the worst part was the burial.
Blending in at a funeral has never been a strong suit of the BAU’s, except for you. You were calm, respectful, and blended in with the rest of the spectators.
Until you looked across the circle and saw Aaron Hotchner looking directly at you. Whatever he had been feeling before, was quickly wiped away when you looked back at him, confirming his suspicions that you were here, in the graveyard. The look on his face was replaced with a more somber one as he redirected his attention back to the priest, but you knew you would be unable to just leave now that you had been spotted.
Once she had been lowered into the ground, Hotch made his way towards you, catching his colleges interested. Where was he going? Who was he looking for?
“Y/n.”
You smiled at him. It didn’t reach your eyes, but it wasn;t fake either.
“It’s good to see you Hotch.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”
You nodded and looked over as the rest of the people migrated towards their cars to go to the reception afterwards. “I didn’t make it public information, considering I was planning on leaving after the ceremony. I’m just here to pay my respects Hotch.”
“She called you.”
“Yes she did.”
“And she said you turned it down.”
“I did.”
“Why.”
“Hotch, please.”
He took your elbow and pulled you away from the people, giving the two of you some semblance of privacy.
“Will you at least think about it?”
“What is there to think about Hotch? I don’t want to—”
“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you miss it Y/n. I’m not just some colleague, and you know that.”
You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. You knew coming to this funeral was a mistake. But some part of you, one that you had silenced for a very long time, was starting to break through.
“We can talk later.”
Wasteland, baby
I'm in love, I'm in love with you
“I cannot believe you’re going back.”
You sighed and continued to pack up everything you owned into boxes. You had only broken down the ones from a few years ago–that same part of you had saved them for whenever you had recognized you were ready to be back in Washington D.C.
“Don’t ignore me. I thought you were done with hunting bad guys and certain doctors with glasses.”
You slammed your hands on the table, causing Lucille to jump.
“Sorry.” You muttered and slowly sunk to the ground, deciding it was just easier to sit on the ground and have a breakdown rather than talk it out.
“I’m not going back for him…I’m going back for me. This…” You ran a hand through your hair. “This is n’t what I was meant to do, Luce. I’m not a teacher. I’m okay at it, but…I was meant to be in the field. Teaching is challenging, but not in the way I need. And fuck, I love my kids, you know that I do, but it’s just…”
“It’s not who you are.” She came and sat down next to you, taking your hand in hers. “I’m gonna miss you asshole.”
You rested your head on her shoulder and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to miss you so much.” You whispered back to her.
“You have to visit me. I’ll get lonely up here.”
A smile spread across your face as a tear slowly tracked down your cheek. “ You have my permission to hunt me down and beat the shit out of me if I don’t.”
“Oh don’t worry, I will.”
All the things yet to come are the things that have passed
Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass
Like the bonfire that burns
That all words in the fight fell to
Your desk stayed pretty empty for the first two weeks you were back—like you were terrified that if you got too comfortable, life would pull the rug right out from under you again and you’d have to leave.
It was Garcia who first noticed this, watching as you’d pack everything up into your tote bag each night before you would go home. She didn’t say anything about it though, since you were not the same girl the BAU had grown to know.
You were different, quieter. You spoke when you had something to add, or to correct somebody, but you never participated in the banter; you never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. If the group had decided to surprise you at your new apartment, they would find it covered in boxes—walls bare, fridge almost empty, only essentials like clothes and toothbrush unpacked.
But you had never been better. Hotch had you start consulting side cases when you came back, a way to get you used to the routine of being back in the office, back in the FBI. You would consult up to three new cases a day, still helping with those that would call back a day or week later for updates or more help. They watched as you easily solved things in minutes, that might have taken the team hours.
The first time Morgan called you ‘Girl Genius’ to your face, you punched him in the arm (admittedly a bit harshly). But he wasn’t wrong. You could feel the continuous excitement flowing through your veins; your muscles flexing as you settled back into the thing you were the best at.
You were different, but better.
Spencer noticed this too. He watched as you confidently answered every question thrown at you. He watched as you consulted on cases and noticed patterns he had missed.
Spencer had missed you, badly. He knew he fucked up when he had left that night, needed to go and he spend the night away, thinking about his life; his future. Panic had flooded his body at the thought of you being the one forced to take care of him, forced to deal with his shit history and addictive personality and his annoying ass rambles. He didn’t want to subject you to that.
But then he remembered the look on your face—the pure excitement and adoration at the thought of being able to spend every single minute of your life calling him yours. And once the panic had subsided, he felt that same joy.
When he got back to the house, you weren’t there.
You weren’t at work either.
You had just vanished, and about a day later, all of your things had disappeared too.
And Spencer was a fucking wreck. He was useless at work, and he spent so much time trying to find you, but Penelope wasn’t able to find a thing, and by the time she did, it had been months later, and you clearly didn’t want to be found.
Wasteland, baby
I'm in love, I'm in love with you
It didn’t help that seeing you again in Vermont made him want to melt on the spot. A great deal of relief washed over him, seeing you were alive and in front of him. But then he felt the anger rise in him. You had abandoned him, you had just disappeared without a second thought.
Then he remembered the look on your face when he panicked about marrying you.
You had thought he didn’t want to marry you.
You had no idea that he felt like he was the the problem, and if he told you know, it would just sound like a fucking excuse.
Watching you walk back into the bullpen and set up at your desk was another slap in the face. It feels like nobody tells him anything, because they don’t. But then he realized that only Hotch knew about it because everyone froze on the spot seeing you sitting at your desk, working.
At his desk, he would just watch you. On the plane, he would watch you. And he tried so hard to be nonchalant about it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your hair, your legs, your arms, your lips—he wanted to take your hand and never let you go, fusing your skin together so he could be with you always.
He was in love with you. And he thought you would rather die than be seen with him again.
If only he knew that you felt the same way—you loved him right back.
And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun
To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on
And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs
After about three months, infinite pining, a few longing glances passed to one another, and incessant whining from Derek Morgan, you and Spencer Reid found yourselves together at coffee one morning.
After about a month later, you found yourself back in his apartment, lips grazing his, not being able to tell where his body ended and yours started.
Then, the next day, he told you he loved you.
He didn’t see you for a whole week afterwards.
But when he walked into work that monday, and you were sitting at your desk, completely unbothered, he took it upon himself to make you talk to him.
No one else was around, except for Hotch. But his office door was closed, and Morgan wouldn’t be around for another ten minutes anyways.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
You turned around in your chair and glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“You disappeared for a week, no word about where you were going, not even telling me you were leaving.”
You rolled your eyes. “Not now Spence.”
“I love you.”
“What?”
“I still love you.”
Your jaw dropped. “Spencer…”
“I’m dead serious Y/n. When you weren’t here after you spent the night, I lost my fucking mind. I thought I had lost you—again. And I wasn’t about to go through that again. I had fucked up once before and I—I thought you had realized you didn’t want to be with me anymore and you had left again.”
You were silent as he rambled on.
“When you left three years ago, I lost my fucking mind. I sat here, staring at your desk hoping you would materialize out of thin air just so that I could apologize to you. And then when you didn’t show up, I begged Penelope to tell me where you had run off to, so I could go and find you and beg for you to listen to me while I got on my hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness. You thought I didn’t want to marry you, but I was terrified because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me. I mean I had just gotten sober, and I thought we were doing so well and then you brought up marriage and all I could think about was how it was another way for you to find out how much you could hate me and get sick of me since—”
You had finally snapped out the shock you were feeling and placed your hand over his mouth. “Breathe.”
Spencer shoved your hand off his mouth, but stayed silent, taking an over exaggerated breath to prove to you he did.
“We can talk about this later.”
“No.” Spencer shook his head. “We’re going to talk about this now. I want to talk about this now.”
“Spencer…”
“How do I know that you’re not going to just pack up and disappear again.”
“Spencer seriously? I don’t—-”
“You don’t do that? Because we both know you do. You’ve done it twice now.”
“What do you want me to say Spence?”
“That you still love me.” His voice was low, but his eyes were locked in on yours. “I need to know if you still love me.”
Wasteland, baby
I'm in love, I'm in love with you
The Next Week
Another Day, Another Psychopath Killer.
Another way for you to throw yourself into the line of fire because you have always had a soft spot for teenagers.
Someone was targeting suicidal teens, convincing them to end their own lives, merely making him complicit in their deaths. It had sent you (and JJ) reeling. Both of you had lost someone to suicide, and watching as this person preyed on vulnerable kids who deserved to live and be loved took a lot out of the both of you.
You had a bad feeling about this case when it was first passed onto your desk, but it just got worse and worse as the week went on. If only you had figured out who it was sooner, you might have been able to save this one girl’s life. But sometimes life refuses to relent.
The jet was silent on the way back, none of you wanting to speak and break the silence.
Spencer sat next to you on the couch, offering a comforting presence, and nothing else. He knew you (and it bugged the shit out of you). Years of being with one another meant that he knew when you were upset, and he knew that you despised being touched while you were like this, but you hated being alone.
It bugged you so much, but you weren’t going to say a damn thing because having him next to you while you sat and listened to your music and spiraled was exactly what you needed.
He only offered his hand when the plane hit some turbulence, and your entire body began to shake unconsciously. It was between the two of you, and all he did was flip it, so the palm was upwards. It was an invitation that you could immediately ignore and refuse if you wanted to.
But something in you caused your hand to drop next to his and lace your fingers through his.
God was it so fucking warm, and soft. You wondered if he still used the lotion you had recommended to him all those years ago when he would complain to you about his hands being “gross” and “too dry”. He absolutely did.
He managed to hide his smile when you took his hand, but he did give yours a soft squeeze, and continued to read his book, pretending that his insides weren’t aflame and his mind was anywhere but on the words in front of him.
He didn’t turn a page for over four minutes once your hand was in his.
And I love too that love soon might end
Be known in its aching
Shown in the shaking
Lately of my wasteland, baby
Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking
Though quaking, though crazy
That's wasteland, baby
That Night
“Thank you.”
It was the first thing you had said in over five hours, including the plane ride. Once the plane had landed, you and Spencer went back to his apartment, and the two of you had sat in his living room, in silence. He didn’t mind, as long as he could keep an eye on you.
Your mind was far far away. It was back in college. Thinking about your friend and about the life you could have lived if she was still with you.
Spencer had left a cup of tea next to you, your favorite, and sat on the couch. You were situated in the chair by the window, staring out into the night, watching as the rain drops raced down the window and as the lights blurred together.
He was close enough to provide you with some comfort, but far enough away to let you have whatever space you needed.
“Spence?”
He snapped out of his head, looking towards you. Your eyes were tired, and your body reflected the same type of exhaustion.
“Sorry. What do you need?”
“I—.” You interrupted yourself with a yawn, cursing under your breath. “Shit sorry. I should probably go..”
“It’s okay if you stay.”
You looked out the window then back at him.
“I’m not just saying that to get you into my bed—oh my god that came out wrong, I just mean I don’t want you out in that weather and I don’t really like the idea of you being alone tonight, especially after this case because—”
“Spencer.”
“---yeah?”
“I’ll stay.”
“O-oh. Good. good…” He nodded. “I can uh, take the couch and you can have the bed.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled slightl;y. “You’re a gentleman, Doctor Reid, but I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”
“But I—”
“Spence.”
He huffed, crossing his arms as you just laughed softly to yourself, amused.
“Why don’t we both go get ready. Together.”
“Together?”
You nodded. “Yeah Spence.”
“Okay.”
Spencer stood up, and offered his hand to you.
And for the second time today, you took it.
When the stench of the sea and the absence of green
Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen
Are an end but the start of all things that are left to do
And maybe the two of you would never be together ever again. Maybe you would.
But something about the way Spencer would make your favorite tea,
or the way he would save you the crossword puzzle on his morning newspaper since he knew how much you loved to solve as much as you could without his help,
or when he would leave you notes on your desk, making you feel like a giddy high schooler all over again, or when he felt like a good start to something new
or when he would kiss you good morning and good night, promising you he’d be there whenever you woke up
or when he slowly got rid of things in his apartment to create space for your things as you moved in slowly
or whenever a case was particularly rough for the both of you and he wouldn’t pester you to talk to him about it, instead offering his hand for you to take, and squeezing it, letting you know he was there for you
or the way he would take you on small vacations up to Vermont so you could go see all of your friends and escape from the world of the FBI
or the way he would never storm out of the apartment after an argument, but still give you the space you needed so you could both decompress without getting at each other's throats
or when he whispered every thing he would do for you for the rest of your lives so help him god when he thought you were asleep in his arms
or how he would whispered ‘I love you’ to you as you passed by while you both were working
or when he would never let you run off in the middle of the night because you would panic about whether or not this was all a dream, and one day he would wake up and not love you anymore
or when he got down on one knee and proclaimed his undying love for you, hoping you’d promised to love him forever in the same way he loved you, wanting to be with you, wanting to be near you always
made you feel like everything might be okay after all.
Wasteland, baby
I'm in love, I'm in love with you
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert
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AUTISTIC SWEEP
The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise.
The curtains are closing.
The lights are dimming.
The air still feels filled with static, though.
This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings.
Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.
He lets out a genuine chuckle.
Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight.
“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”
The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it.
“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles.
“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”
He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky.
“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”
Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”
“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.”
“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”
Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought.
“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”
“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”
“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”
Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”
“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”
--------------------------
In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient.
The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment.
The crowd is gone.
The curtains are closed.
The lights are off.
For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.
--------------------------
EDIT: there is now a sequel!
YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE
Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol
CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)
@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!
All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU
#donnie sweep#mob sweep#autismswagsummit#donatello#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#mob psycho 100#mob psycho#mp100#mob#writing#my writing#original content#i dunno how i tag these anymore
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𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲
Paring: Aegon II Targaryen × Targaryen OC
Warnings: Swearing, character death
1.02
You struggle to breathe normally from crying so much, so you clasp your hand over your mouth to try and help regain control. All the repressed emotions that had been building for years came bubbling out when you and your father got into a heated argument. He was upset that Rhaenyra had suddenly fled to Dragonstone and blamed it on you for giving your older sister the silent treatment, insisting you go fly to her immediately and apologize.
It caused deep pain in your chest, knowing he didn’t care about your side of things. He didn’t even care to ask.
“The decision has been made; you will go to Dragonstone and apologize,” your father says, waving you off dismissively before returning his attention to his sculpture of Old Valyria. “I think it might be good for you to go and stay on Dragonstone for some time.”
“Why? As a punishment?”
“No, my child, it’s so you and Rhaenyra can be there for each other.”
“I don’t want to leave the house; it’s my home.”
“It wouldn’t be forever.”
Red blotches appear across your neck and chest as your body shakes with rage. It felt as if you were being banished for a crime you didn’t commit, and something inside you snapped. “It’s not my fault; none of it is. Not Rhaenyra was leaving, and neither was my mother or brother dying.”
“What?” Your father still makes his movements but keeps his back to you. “Ivory, what did you just say?”
“You were so obsessed with having a son that you forced my mother to get pregnant again and again until she finally died giving birth, and you have spent every day since resenting me for it.”
“That’s simply not true.”
Your eyes gloss over. “You wanted a son, and Baelon died. Leaving you with me.”
“I suggest you go to your chambers and rest before you leave.”
“I’m not going to Dragonstone!” Your father finally turns back around to face you, and the expression on his face is one of disinterest, which angers you further. You had spent years craving his and Rhaenyra’s approval, and now you felt nothing but a fool, a silly girl who thought she needed to remain quiet to keep everyone else happy, but in the heat of the moment, you no longer felt that way. “You remarried Alicent so you could have an heir, and she’s given you three sons and a daughter. Another four children that you don’t even acknowledge!”
Your father shoots you a glare; it was obvious you had struck a nerve. “Ivory, hold your tongue! Remember, I am not only your father; I am also your king.”
“The only child you love is Rhaenyra, and we all know it.”
Before he can say anything else, you turn to leave his bedchamber and come face-to-face with Alicent, who looked speechless. You closed your eyes and waited for her to scold you, but she never does; instead, she holds your hand.
Seeing the worried look on his wife’s face, your father stands. “Alicent, what is wrong?”
“I’m afraid I have some dreadful news for your grace,” she says. “It’s regarding Ser Lyonel and Ser Harwin Strong.”
—
You twiddle with the green and gold ribbons that go down the center of your pale gold dress. It was a beautiful gift from your stepmother, but you couldn’t wear it yet. You focus on the design of the fabric and how it reminds you of dragon scales; it was a good distraction from the last memory you have of your late husband plaguing your mind.
Smiling, you pull your riding gloves off with your teeth as you make your way out of the dragon pit, listening intently as Aegon talked about his lessons in sword fighting. Your conversation comes to an abrupt halt when Ser Harwin appears at the doorway.
He bows his head, but before he has a chance to say anything, Aegon sharply asks, “What do you want?”
“I simply wish to speak to my wife, my prince.”
Aegon turns to you to gauge what your intentions are. Once you nod your head, silently telling him it was okay, he looks between you and Harwin, shooting a death stare at the knight. He says, “Fine, but she can’t stay long. We are expected to have tea with my mother, the queen, shortly.”
Harwin nods his head. “Of course, my prince, I won’t take much of the princess' time.”
When Aegon is out of earshot, Harwin faces you, and the amusement on his face is clear. “I’m glad that your brother is so protective of you.”
“What do you wish to speak to me about?”
He straightens his posture and says, “I am leaving tonight with my father to return to Harrenhal, and I just wanted to say goodbye as it may be some time before I return.”
Feeling your eyes become glossy, you stare at the ground and ask, “Have you said goodbye to Rhaenyra?”
“No, I didn’t think that would be appropriate.”
Heaviness weighs down on your chest. You doubted he was being truthful; you fully expected him and Rhaenyra to say a tearful farewell, but your feelings of concern for the children were stronger than your anger towards them. You clear your throat. “I hope you speak to Jacaerys and Lucerys before you go; they deserve a proper goodbye.”
Harwin’s expression is hard to read as he leans forward, kisses your forehead, and whispers, “I truly am sorry.”
When you remain silent, Harwin bows his head slightly and goes to leave. A horrid feeling twists in your gut; you don’t quit explaining it, but you feel as if it’s a final goodbye. You step forward and ask, “When do you intend to return?”
He gives you a soft smile and says, “Whenever you ask me to, princess.”
You jump when approaching footsteps pull you from your thoughts. You spin around, hand clapped to your chest, the feeling of your heart beating fast pressing against your palm. “Ser Criston, I had no idea you were behind me.”
“Forgive me for startling you, princess,” the knight says. “The queen has asked that I accompany you to the docks.”
Knowing that it was time to leave, you reached for the shawl, lying across your bed, and draped it across your shoulders before leaving your chambers. Many a lord and lady offered you their condolences as you made your way outside as the news of Harwin and his father, the kings hand burning to death made its way around court. In the back of your mind, you wondered how Jace and Luke were coping. No matter how much you hated Rhaenyra for hurting you, you could never hate your nephews.
—
Noticing you rolling your eyes at his comments, Aegon scoffs, “I’m just saying, I hate the color black.”
Not only were you dressed appropriately to mourn Harwin, you were all wearing black as you made your way to Driftmark for the funeral of your uncle's late wife, Lady Laena Velaryon, who had died during childbirth.
“You hate most things.”
Aegon pouts, “I do not.”
You tap your finger along a thick rope that was attached to the side of the boat, trying to think of something smart to say back, but your mind draws blank. “What’s something you love, then?”
“I enjoy drinking and beautiful women.”
Smiling, you shake your head, turning to face the choppy waves. “You’re ridiculous.”
Aegon’s nose crinkles as irritation spreads across his features. He looks up at the sky, watching as your dragons fly side by side. “Sunfyre.”
You smile; the dragon keepers had already spoken about how strong the bond between Sunfyre and Aegon was, especially since the golden dragon never hatched in the crib and they had only bonded a few years prior. “There is no denying that, lēkia.”
You stand together in a comfortable silence, watching as the scenery around you changes, until your destination comes into view and your heart drops. The thought of seeing Rhaenyra again so soon after Harwin’s death made you feel sick.
Aegon stretches his arms out and yawns, but his attention changes to something behind you. He clears his throat and says, “Father.”
You turn to see your father standing on the other side of you with a smile on his face, which was surprising since this was the first time you had spoken following the argument in his bedchamber. “Have you thought anymore about what we discussed?”
Before you can answer, Ghost, the beautiful white dragon you're bonded with, swoops down low and lets out a loud screeching noise, startling everyone on the boat. “No, your grace, I haven’t.”
—
As the funeral ends and the wake for Lady Laena begins, Aegon rudely interrupts the conversation you’re having with the ladies from the house, Darklyn and Baratheon. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you behind him, further away from the crowd and behind some large rocks, so you're out of sight. “What are you doing?” You frown. “That was incredibly ill-mannered; the queen will be furious.”
“What does Father want you to think about?”
You toyed with loose threads on the sleeve of your dress; you felt too embarrassed to tell him the truth. “It doesn’t matter.”
Aegon scoffs, “Fine; perhaps I’ll go ask him myself.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because you are obviously fucking upset!” Aegon stumbles backwards into one of the rocks. He had been drinking since you got off the boat; it was actually astonishing that he wasn’t sliding his words by now. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“It’s humiliating, that’s why.” A sinking realization hits you suddenly, and tears glisten in your eyes. “Father no longer wants me around; he wants to ship me off to Dragonstone.”
“I will speak to my mother tonight; you cannot go and live with her; to even suggest it is an insult,” he says, shaking his head. “The king is neither blind nor stupid; he’s in denial and would rather believe my mother is a fool over Rhaenyra being a whore.”
“Aegon!”
“What she is! She slept with your husband and had his bastard children.”
“I know.” The black thread you’ve been pulling on finally snaps. “But—”
You freeze when you hear a snapping sound behind you. Aegon stares at you with his mouth slightly agape. Someone just heard everything he said.
Brother - Lēkia
#house of the dragon#aegon ii targaryen x you#aegon ii targaryen fanfiction#Aegon II Targaryen#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#Aegon II Targaryen/you#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen#ghosts in the sky#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen x oc#Aegon Targaryen x fem oc#Aegon Targaryen/oc#Aegon ii x oc#aegon ii targaryen x oc#Aegon ii Targaryen x fem oc
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come pour yourself all over me
pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]
rating: g
summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.
notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance.
also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it!
You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.
You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.
You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.
In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.
Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.
You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.
The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.
It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.
It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.
At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.
You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?
Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.
The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.
Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.
You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”
Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”
Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”
“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”
He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”
You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.
Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.
“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”
“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”
Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”
There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.
“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.
“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.
This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”
“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”
This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”
It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”
“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”
You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”
“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.
“There,” he says after a moment. He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”
“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.
“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”
Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.
“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”
Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”
“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.
He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”
You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -
It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.
“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”
You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”
He only smirks at you in return.
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bewitched
pairing: alys rivers x fem!targaryen!reader, minor aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader
summary: she is many things— this witch, and observant is one of them. alys rivers can see the way your older brother stares at you, that mix of heavy lust and longing darkening the violet in his eye.
it is quite cute, she thinks. such a shame she's decided to claim you for herself.
warnings: explicit language. aemond acting like book!aemond in the beginning (violence and death). seduction. mention of canon-typical targcest between siblings. oral (f receiving) and fingering. tiddy sucking. slight breeding kink. alys straight up stealing aemond's bitch.
masterlist
Without any further thought, you had followed your older brother on his sixteen days’ march to Harrenhal, riding alongside him at the head of his army, some four thousand strong. Your mother had protested it a great deal, demanding you stay back and remain with her and your broken older sister.
But you were Aemond’s in the way Helaena’s was Aegon’s, and where he went, you followed.
And it was you, his sweet little sister, who did her best to calm him down when, twenty days later, word of the fall of King’s Landing finally reached him. At dinner, Aemond felt thrice the fool, you knew, and cried out curses at his uncle and the “river scrum” and Rhaenyra, over and over again. His fury was fearsome but never directed at you. He loved you too much. That night, you held him close, cradling his head against your breasts as the two of you slept.
The following morning, he began his onslaught.
Under the dawning sun, Aemond soon killed Ser Simon Strong in a duel, cutting the old man to pieces before feeding the corpse to Vhagar. Ser Simon was the great uncle to Larys Clubfoot, you then remember, grimacing at the blood puddling across the castle’s courtyard. Larys Strong. Harwin Strong. Lyonel Strong. Bits of his limbs were scattered about too, a horrible mess of muscle and skin and greyed hair. The sight made you sick to your tummy.
Bring me his grandsons! Aemond demanded soon after, freckles of dried blood staining his cheekbones and brow. And every man or boy with Strong blood in his veins. The Stranger does not discriminate in his wielding, and neither will I!
You watched in tears as one by one, your brother’s men dragged out both man and boy, some no older than your niece and nephew. Their screams broke out across the courtyard as their bodies stacked in a pile almost three feet high. Clutching Aemond’s sleeve, you begged and pleaded mercy for the children, and for the womenfolk huddled within the wards.
“See reason!” you cried. “They are innocent in all this, the babes especially! Do not let your anger deceive you, my dear brother!” But Aemond was unmoved by your words, to your utter dismay.
No trueborn Strong was spared nor any bastard, both adult and child. All except Alys Rivers.
You pled mercy for her as well, and Aemond surprised you by granting it. He gestured for two soldiers to shove her back inside Harrenhal, safe and alive, before asking if you were finally happy. Your lips curled at the bite in his tone, and the madden glare in his eye.
“This is unlike you,” you told him. “I do not like it.”
Aemond rolled his eye. “And I do not give a shit, sweet sister. If you wish to cast blame onto someone, let it be our eldest whore sister and her damn husband. Ser Simon was a traitor to the crown, and died a fitting traitor’s death.”
“But this was unnecessary, Aemond! You’re many things, yes, but cruel is not one of them.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
“I know it!” you insisted.
Aemond sighed. His sword was back belted to his hip, hidden by the cloak he wore. “We’ve entered a war, sister. Fairness and humanity do not survive long on the battlefield. Do not expect much compassion during these times.”
You frown. Was Aemond always like this?
Suddenly you wish to be at home, tucked within the Keep’s stone walls, in your mother’s arms. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, you’d be back in the gardens, smelling the warm earthy smell of early springtime and feeling the cool wind play with your hair.
I want to go home now, you wanted to say when you reopened your eyes to find yourself still at Harrenhal. I don’t wanna be here anymore. Anywhere but here.
You did not know this man in front of you. Not anymore. He was no longer your older brother and protector, the man you would soon wed when the moon turned again, and the one you loved with your whole heart. Your eyes drifted back to the corpses stacked atop each other, bloodied legs and arms and messy heads strewn all over the redden dirt.
With nothing else left to say, you turned and left.
She is many— this witch, and observant is one of them. Alys Rivers could see the way your older brother stares at you, that mix of heavy lust and longing darkening the violet in his eye.
It is quite cute, she thought. Such a shame she’s decided to claim you for herself.
Alys felt no guilt at that. You had saved her life, although she hadn’t the slightest inkling as to why. Or, maybe she did, actually. She herself was older by many decades, raven-haired, and as tall as the Prince Aemond himself. Her breasts were still heavy with milk from all the highborn children she fed throughout the years. She was a wet nurse, a bastard woman.
There were so many pretty maids, all of your own years, at Harrenhal, and yet you never once entertained them as companions.
No, instead your pretty eyes remained on her.
As the evening sunlight streamed through the castle’s windows, Alys arrived at your bedchamber, guised as a servant. In her hands, she carried a tray of plated roasted deer, goat cheese, and nutty bread, still steaming from the furn. You’ve barred yourself shut in your room for the better part of the day, too upset with your brother’s carnage to venture beyond the walls. The hour had grown late, and you must be starving.
“My princess,” she greeted softly, bowing when you let her in. You stand by the window, gazing outside at the east gate, near the Tower of Ghosts- one of the five immense towers bent and lumped and cracked from the Balerion’s fire during the conquest. As dark and ruinous as it now stands, it was still hauntingly beautiful. “Might you be hungry?”
You sniffled. “My appetite has fled me, I’m afraid.”
“At least try, child.” Alys set the tray on the desk, before taking a step back to study her new prize.
Up close, you’re very much a Valyrian beauty, with hair as silvery as moonglow and deep purple eyes. There is a certain softness and sweetness to you that strikes her fancy, from the elegant way you hold your posture to how you trailed after your brother, the prince. Her eyes fall to your breasts, and she licks her lips.
“Thank you…um…” you paused shortly, unsure of her name.
“Alys Rivers.”
You nod, smiling. “Ah, yes, Alys. I remember now. Thank you for the food,” but then you shake your head, chuckling, “But I don’t think I can stomach any food after today….brutality. I feel sick just remembering such…”
Alys felt the same way as well, though she didn’t fault the little princess for such. It was all your damned brother anyways.
An awkward silence soon followed, and it left her wondering if both you and her had swallowed your tongues in that moment. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she cleared her throat and offered you the chalice of wine she brought too. “Here, sweet princess. A bit of wine to wash away these ill thoughts.”
“Thank you, Alys.” You took a sip, quickly relaxing your shoulders. Mmm, very nice. “I wish mercy on Ser Simon Strong, and his grandsons too, may the gods give them all rest.”
Ser Simon was her great uncle too, Alys thought with some sadness. “He was an old done man, my princess,” she said, lacing her thin fingers together. She wore two silver rings on each hand that sometimes she twisted when anxious. “I like to think he lived a good life before now. He died with bravery and a sword in his hand, the way many in House Strong dream of passing.” Or dreamt, I should say. I’m the only one left, next to Larys.
The two of you spoke for the rest of the hour, moving to sit comfortably on the settee at the foot of the bed. Alys Rivers was a complete joy to be around, and very beautiful. As she talked, you took some time to admire her. Her green eyes shone like bright emeralds, and her hair was long and dark as the midnight sky, falling thickly around her ample breasts. Maybe it was the wine tonight, or perhaps her voice, but you were struck with the sudden urge to kiss her plump, pink lips.
So you did.
You leaned forward, kissing her— softly at first, until she wrapped her arm around your waist to tug you closer. Nobody had ever kissed you before, not even Aemond, although during boyhood he made several attempts to steal a kiss. Her tongue found yours in a short dance before you broke away from her, a tad breathless now.
“Princess,” Alys whispered, hands falling down to your shoulders.
“Apologies!” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed. “I cannot believe I just did that—my sincerest apologies, Alys. I don’t know what overcame me, I—” your voice was muffed as you hid away from her gaze.
She just laughed. “Was that your first kiss?... Have you been deflowered, sweet princess?”
You shook your head.
“Really?” Her dark eyebrow lifted in surprise. “With the way your brother looks at you, in truth I would’ve thought his babes were already in your belly.” Prince Aemond hasn’t bedded you yet? Alys was astonished at that. A silver flower still blossoming prettily in the rosebush, ripe for plucking? A slow smile spread across her lips.
“Aemond—he hasn’t…we’re to be married when we return to King’s Landing, I believe.”
“Do you like him?”
“I do. He is a good brother, and he will be a fine husband, and father too!” You said in a quivering voice, trying to calm your breathing. “He loves me, I think, and I love him too.”
But Prince Aemond had made you afraid of him today, she could smell it on you, even if you would never admit it aloud. This was very good. She could use it to her advantage. “Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I wish you two a fruitful and blessed marriage. You’ll make a fine wife when the day finally arrives, little princess.”
That made you pause. “I don’t know…” you mumble, picking at the skin around your nailbed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well…our elder brother, King Aegon, he took Aemond to a brothel on his thirteenth nameday. He likes to joke that our brother is well-educated in pleasing a woman. I worry that I’m not…I’m not up to his standard. Or that he may not desire me afterward.”
Alys drew back, shocked. Up to his standard? Non-desirable? Does she take him for an utter fool? For what man wouldn’t wish to bed a Targaryen princess like yourself?
She scoffed, leaning her face so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath against your lips. It sent goosebumps prickling up each arm. “Men always love a blushing maiden in their sheets. They may return to the whores in due time, but they’ll always welcome a maid in their bed, however inexperienced she might be.”
Your breath hitched at her words. Could she…maybe….? Your eyes fell back down to her heavy breasts. She was a wet nurse, after all, and confessed to being pregnant with several children of her own. Would that mean she is well experienced in pleasure…? You debated the thought in your head, weighing the consequences of asking such.
Is it really whoring if it is with another woman? It is not like I’m laying with another man….she would be a teacher, not a mistress. You closed your eyes, thinking of Aemond. And Aemond would never know. I’d never tell him.
“Will you show me?” you blurted. “Teach me, so that I might be somewhat educated in pleasure?” Maybe it would take your mind off of this morning too.
Mischief twinkled in Alys’s pretty green eyes. “If it pleases you, my princess.”
Alys is quick to lay you down on the bed before climbing over you, straddling your waist. “I can hear your heartbeat. Do not be scared, little love. Passion is a love song, and lovemaking is merely the dance that follows.” She then takes both your hands in hers, placing them on her breasts. "I am yours to do whatever you wish, my princess." Encouraged by the look she gives you, you rub her nipples with your thumbs, before leaning to take one in your hot mouth to suckle.
She moans, cradling your head closer to her chest. “Good girl,” she whispers, eyes shutting as you flick it back and forth with your tongue.
Your other hand squeezes her other breast, enjoying the way it feels between your fingers and the moans flooding from her lips. You want to ask her if you’re the first woman she’s ever been with and if this moment is as special to her as it is to you. But her tit is still in your mouth and steals all the words away.
After a few more minutes, she pulls your mouth away to kiss you, letting you taste a bit of her tongue. “Very good,” she murmurs against your lips, kissing you again and again. “Did you like my breasts, sweetling?”
“Mmmm,” and you tug at her bottom lip between your teeth. “I did a lot, Alys. They're so soft.”
She giggles before pushing you back down, your head sinking against the pillows. Her soft hand drifts across your belly, fingers skimming below the curve of your breasts down to your hipbones and waist. “You’re so beautiful,” she says aloud, her voice thick with awe. “I dreamt of Targaryens before, but you’re far lovelier than them all, little princess.”
Your brother has been blessed with your hand, she thinks, with a mix of both sincerity and bitterness. Men never deserve such tantalizing fruits. They are all the same in their words and actions. They never truly appreciate the gods’ given gifts.
Her green eyes remain on your naked belly, imagining a soft swell to it. You’d be such a lovely mother, she’s sure. She could never give you a baby, though, but maybe….her eyes look up to yours, noticing the faint glimmers of lust clouding the pretty violet hue. It is a mirror to your older brother, Prince Aemond.
Alys thinks and thinks, taking the time to fondle your smaller breasts.
Prince Aemond could plant the seed…and she could then tend to it.
Alys’s hand continues downward, finding the mound of fine silvery hair between your thighs, grinning when she feels how wet you are. “I wonder if your cunt is as sweet as your lips,” she wonders aloud, more to herself. You bite your lip, watching with large, doe-eyes. Alys moves herself between your thighs, her pretty face hovering over your soppy pussy.
“You are just so lovely, sweet princess.” She flashes you a quick smile while running a finger through your folds, gently easing you open. Above her, you tremble.
She then presses a soft kiss to your clit before sucking it into her mouth, tongue drawing small circles around it. “Ohhhhh,” you moan, face scrunching in blissful pleasure. Alys switches between sucking and lapping at your cunt, her eyes flickering up to watch the way you react to everything. There are tiny beads of sweat lining your browbone and temple, and your fingers are slowly turning white from the tight grip on the cream sheets.
Scream. Allow me to hear those cries. Let the entirety of Harrenhal learn who’s claimed you tonight.
Your hips buckle up against her mouth as your head lolls to the side, breathless whimpers leaving your lips when she works two fingers inside your cunt, scissoring and pumping and stroking your sweet spot until all you can see are flashes of blinding white. “ALYS,” you shriek, bringing the sheet to your mouth to bite down as hard as you can to muffle the rest of your screams. “Oh, gods be good, Alys!”
You don’t wish for your beloved Aemond to hear you, nor anyone else.
Oh, but you taste so fucking good, Alys thinks, savoring your arousal on your tongue. She continues to eat you out, as well as fucking you with her fingers, partly dreaming of a wonderful new life where she wakes up every morning between your shaky thighs, breaking fast with every sweet orgasm she pulls from you.
My princess, mine own dragon.
Several seconds later, your legs twist around the older woman’s body, breasts heaving as your whole body shakes and shudders. Your pussy clenches tightly around Alys’s fingers, a sign that you’re close to cumming. “Cum for me, sweetling,” she coos, kissing the inside of your thigh- once, twice, thrice. She feels victorious in a way, a great pride simmering within her as she eyes the way your peak comes only closer and closer.
Prince Aemond One-Eye may have sacked her Harrenhal, but she sacked his baby sister, and made the little princess her own sweet whore.
“Would you like for me to bring your dear brother next?” she asks.
You shake your head, panting through the moans and whimpers and gasps. “He—he won’t…take me—ah, until our wedding night—”
“I have a way of fixing that,” Alys says, leaning to lick a long strip up your pussy. She has many love potions and philtres to entice the prince, a collection that would surely inflame his deep passion and lust for his sister. Although, she thinks in amusement, it shouldn’t be that hard. He wants you as badly as she did, mayhap even more. “You’ll be heavy with his child soon, sweetling, his bastard’s fire blazing in your womb.”
“He won’t father a bastard. Aemond hates bastards.”
“He’d father anything if it comes from your loins, sweet one.”
You cry, flinging your head back as you come undone at her fingers and tongue. Alys drinks everything you give her, mouthing tiny spells against your cunt. One for fertility, the second for a blessed marriage, and the third for protection. Except it won’t be between you and the prince.
Alys Rivers always did prefer women to men.
taglist for "bewitched": @chainsawsangel @sweethoneyblossom1 @dahlias-and-marigolds @ilikeitbetterangsty @inlovewithhisblueeyes @the-cult-classic-bitch @666-aiko
taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#aemond fanfiction#alys rivers x reader#alys rivers smut#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond the kinslayer#alys rivers#house of the dragon#house of the dragon imagine#hotd fanfic#vic writes 🧸
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These Burdens We Carry.
Joel Miller x f!reader
word count: 4.9k
WARNINGS: swearing, typical tlou violence, way too much angst, plot that actually isn't plot i just like using words, poorly written light smut (MINORS DNI) oral, fem receiving, sprinkle of a praise kink, multiple orgasms. (please let me know if i forgot any!)
a/n: this is my first time writing any semblance of smut so i went very very light, pls be kind <3
gif is not mine!!!!!!
near death experiences have a way of bringing people together.
or
you're in need of a release and joel is happy to provide it for you.
Twenty-one years.
Twenty-one years and still, try as you might, you never got used to the smell—the stench—of death. The putrid odor of decay, one that could only come from the extinguishing of a life, no matter how rotten the soul was. Though you tried to convince yourself otherwise, tried to tell yourself that you had done this more times than you could count—how did it ever get to this?—and that at this point, there should've been nothing left in the world to rattle you, the stench always managed to find a way to offend your nasal passages and twist your gut in the cruelest of ways. The smell was the worst part about killing.
You would never be like him.
Maybe that was a good thing.
Then again, he seemed to carry so little weight on his shoulders, or maybe he had carried it for so long that the muscles in his shoulders had strengthened to accommodate the pressure—the weight of the world became a small child riding on his back, holding itself up with its legs locked around his waist, never growing in height or weight. It was a cruel metaphor, however, it made sense when looking at him and the way the muscles in his back rippled underneath his denim shirt and his arms seemed almost too big for the sleeves. A lifetime of carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man.
There was something—everything—about Joel Miller that you admired. The way his graying hair gently curled at the ends, signaling it was time for a haircut; the way his eyes told you everything his mouth couldn't say aloud; the way his rough, calloused hands held you when the night was so dark and the universe caved in on your chest, leaving you completely breathless. His emotions were long shut off—carrying the weight of the galaxy does that to a man—but there were small glimpses into the man he used to be that he saved just for you. It was enough.
Most of the time.
But, that day, you needed the Joel Miller that existed twenty-one years ago, and while he was slowly beginning to find a semblance of that man again, the real Joel Miller died a long time ago. What he had found was an echo of a distant memory that had been long snuffed out, table scraps that would be fed to the dogs. You feared it wouldn't be enough for that day. You needed more, and you didn’t know if he managed to find it. If he had, he did not make a habit of showing it to you. Maybe that was a piece he saved only for himself.
That day, the horrid scent of death meant so much more. It was supposed to be a walk in the woods. You weren't supposed to run into anyone. There shouldn't have been anyone out there, and he shouldn't have been following you, and you should've paid more attention. So many variables. So many things you wish you had done differently. It was too late when you realized your mistake, when you realized that the leaves crunching and twigs snapping behind you were something to be afraid of. You had almost forgotten what fear felt like—a long-forgotten emotion buried so deeply in the recesses of your brain. You discovered the hard way that fear was the most dangerous emotion a human could feel, far more dangerous than love could ever hope to be. Fear makes you stupid, reckless, and impulsive. Love elicited the same reaction, but at least you were fighting for something rather than against something. It's so much harder to fight for yourself.
When his fist met your temple, you saw black. The world spun around your head, and a sea of stars danced in the early morning sky. You were grabbed by hands. You weren't sure where, but you were definitely thrown to the ground. You felt a small stream of blood tickle the side of your face—how did it ever get to this?—as it ran down from a cut left behind on your brow bone. You still couldn't see. Your ears rang, your senses were failing you, and he was sitting on top of your torso.
"Well, are you a pretty thing?"
Nothing about what you did to that man was pretty.
You couldn't remember how it happened. You remembered grabbing the rock; you remembered how heavy it sat in your hand as your wrist struggled to hold the weight. Everything went red after that. Maybe it was his blood obscuring your vision, or maybe it was a twisted sense of love, of duty, of "I have to get back to him" that blinded you.
Joel would never forgive you if you didn't come back home.
When you came to, the man was unrecognizable. You gained the advantage, managed to climb on top of him. His brain and fragments of his were scattered across the rock, and his head was caved in. The Infected would have been kinder to him. He didn't deserve that kindness. Your hands were shaking and stained crimson, as was your face. It felt like you were dying. Your chest was caving in—how did it ever get to this?—the trees surrounding you were uprooting, and the sky was falling down in a thousand pieces all around you. Killing up close was never a strong point for you. The smell, the blood, the emptiness of their eyes—he had no eyes left. You weren't sure how long you stayed on top of the man, but rigor mortis took hold of his lifeless body before you found the will to move.
When did you become so ruthless?
You had no control as your feet carried you. Left, right, left, right, until you found yourself by a stream. You didn't notice Joel on the other side, but he noticed you. He always saw you. You always found your way back to him.
He often went to that stream. It was a short walk from Jackson, one well worth the peace of mind that he found in the way the water flowed. He enjoyed stacking the rocks that lived beneath the water, which were eroded by years of ripples, leaving them smooth and slick to the touch, and the cool water running over his rough hands. It was a rare thing for Joel to find serenity when you weren't around. The stream reminded him of you. He searched for you in everything around him. He often found you in water, in the way the wind blew through tree branches, in the way deer ran from the snap of a twig, in the way the sun rose in hues of pink and orange. He found you in every beautiful thing the world had left to offer.
But not that day.
That day, Joel found you in cruelty. He found you in blood-splattered clothing, with hands that would be stained with a tint of red, matted hair, a cut on your eyebrow, and skin embedded under your fingernails. He had never seen you in such a state. Your eyes were empty, stuck on the stream that separated the two of you. There was a dead salamander, held in place underneath the current by weathered rocks. You found death everywhere you went. There was no escape, no hiding spot. Sometimes, you thought it sought you out, damning you to an eternity of that fucking smell as a means of atonement for your sins.
Joel called your name across the small distance of the water. He didn't know his voice could be so gentle. "What happened to you?"
You didn't hear him. He stepped through the water, giving no care to the wetness seeping into his shoes, and spoke your name once more.
"Let me look at you." He was nearly an arm’s length away from you before you finally picked up on his presence.
"Stay away." You whispered, your throat ached. You couldn't remember screaming. "Don't come near me."
"What happened?" He stopped just a few inches in front of you, close enough for you to see the wrinkles in his forehead and the crows feet that decorated the corner of his eyes, close enough to reach out and touch him. Your hands stayed by your sides, not trusting that he was there, that your fingers wouldn’t pass through the muscles of his chest. You couldn’t let him vanish into thin air.
"I don't know." It was Joel’s turn to be scared. He took in the obvious context clues of your appearance, but it still told him so little. Was it your blood or someone else's? Was it Infected or a human? Why were you so shaken? Why did you want him to stay away? You looked as though the combination of the gentle spring breeze and his breath fanning out in front of you would knock you to the ground.
It did. He was right there to catch you.
He was always there.
"I need you to talk to me." He didn't know how to do this anymore. He had been trying to relearn the gentleness he once possessed so many years ago, the kind he used to rock his daughter to sleep when she was a baby. He was slowly getting there but he feared what he had to offer wouldn't be enough. Not when seeing you like this scared him more than any horror the world could conjure up. He thinks seeing you like this scared him more than you dying. He knew how to handle death, how to exact his revenge in the cruelest, most damnable of ways. He knew how to rip men into pieces, to make them regret ever drawing breath; he knew how to put fear into the heart of anyone who dared to cross his path or take what was his.
Joel knew violence. Bloodshed.
He didn't know how to make you stop shaking.
"I- I–" Your voice failed you.
"Let's just clean you up, okay?" All you could do was nod. He gently lowered you to the ground, not trusting your legs enough to allow you to attempt to stand again. He couldn't do anything about the soiled state of your clothes at that moment, but he could wash your hands and face for you. The water was just slightly too cold, but you were sweating and it would be good for you to cool down. He didn't care that it made the tips of his fingers numb. He could only care about you, the hollowness echoing in your chest, and the crazed look in your eyes.
Blood mixed with water, flowing over the dead salamander, still trapped under the rock and it felt like some kind of sick metaphor that you didn't have the capacity to decipher.
He used a rag stashed away in his pack to clean the evidence off of you. Most of the time, when you saw him use his hands, it wasn't pure or loving. Not like this. He was getting better, but he wasn't fully there. But, Joel found it in himself to love you with his hands that day. He showed you in the way the rag barely made contact with your skin, not wanting to leave behind any more redness than the blood already would; in the way that he eroded the edges of the stone in his eyes and placed his lips on your forehead. It wasn’t a kiss, just a moment of contact, a silent ‘I love you,’ in the only way he knew to show you in the moment.
One day, he would tell you. One day, he would tell you how you made it easier to stay alive. He would tell you how, in the past, he had found people he was willing to die for, but never someone that made him want to live; someone that gave him purpose for fighting every day; someone that made him feel as though the world wasn’t out to get him, like he was more than a weapon of destruction. You looked at him like he was still a human being; like he never knew bloodshed; like he held galaxies in his eyes; like he was the galaxy, and you were a newly formed star, looking for a place to call home.
Like he was still Joel Miller.
You made him feel like he still existed.
But he tucked his feelings inside of his pocket, along with the rag that he used to clean you. He still didn’t know whose blood stained the once-white cloth, but he could confidently say that none of it was yours, save for the cruor on your forehead. You had finally calmed down. Your heart still hammered in your chest, and your hands slightly trembled, but the gentle caress of Joel’s fingers against your skin instilled in you a degree of tranquility that you once thought only death could possess.
His name softly fell from your lips, and for the first time during your encounter, your eyes met his. "I need you to tell me what happened to you."
Joel wasn’t satisfied with your retelling of the events, but details changed nothing, and you loved the gray-haired man too much to distress him more than you already had. He knew you were not giving him the full picture—I was out walking, and someone came up from behind me. I took care of it. I just don’t like doing it up close… smells like shit— but he chose not to pry. He knew you would tell him when—if—you were ready. All that truly mattered was getting you home safely.
He walked closely beside you, so close that his body would slightly brush against yours as the uneven terrain caused both of you to slightly stumble and sway. Every time it happened, your skin caught fire. Joel did his best to ignore the sparks it sent through his chest in favor of paying enough attention to the path ahead for the both of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to look out for yourself—he trusted you with your life, which was considerably more important to him than his own—and he didn’t want you to have to stress yourself more than you already had. All he cared about was keeping you safe and as unperturbed as possible.
He took you to his and Ellie’s home.
You had practically lived there in the recent months, preferring to spend your free time with the grumpy older man—he was never grumpy towards you—and the young girl that had found a way to imbed herself within the walls he had spent the last twenty years fortifying. Articles of your clothing had found their way into his dresser without him ever noticing until he had to dedicate an entire drawer to you, not dissimilar to how the smallest pieces of you had slipped past his walls and attached to his heart. You carved statues out of the stone, creating an entire museum in his soul in your likeness; by the time he noticed, he had already spent every day marveling at the sculptures.
Sometimes, it scared him.
In fact, he vehemently tried to shut you out; he had a track record of failing to protect the ones he loved, and he already had Ellie to look after. If he lost both of you, it would be the end of him. There would be no coming back, and maybe if he acted like he didn’t care, he would one day believe it. The grief of Sarah and Tess haunted him, the burden being too much to bear some days. There is only so much loss, so much suffering that a heart can carry and he met his limit years ago—carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man—and the more people he cared about, the more likely loss became. He never intended to let you in. Then again, he never intended to let Ellie in, but it was different with you. Ellie reminded him of what it was like to be a father, showed him that love is synonymous with more than pain and regret, but he still felt a degree of emptiness in his chest, a hollowness that he had long accepted would live inside of him until the day he died. She reminded him of hope, but there was something still missing. A missing puzzle piece that never actually came in the box, doomed to a lifetime of incompletion.
But you came along—your smile, your laughter, your witty remarks, the way you made him remember what life was and should have been, the way you took the galaxy off of his shoulders and put the sun in his ribcage. You meticulously handmade the missing piece of that puzzle over painstaking months. He had taken matters into his own hands many times and snapped it in half, but you never relented. You carved it out of a thin piece of wood, mixed the paint, and applied it with a brush that you crafted from a stick and horsetail, over and over again until he had no choice but to snap in the once-lost piece and frame it on his wall. You had given him everything he knew he was missing but didn’t know how to find, and damn sure did not know how to say.
The least he could do was take care of you, give you one of his t-shirts because you always said you loved the smell—he would never be able to understand why but the least he could do was oblige, and take care of you in the way you needed him to.
At least, that’s what he told himself when you climbed in his lap and peppered barely-there kisses down his jawline and neck. It’s what he told himself when your lips so gently met his, when your teeth bit his bottom lip and your tongue soothed the sting that was left behind. He wasn’t sure why it happened; maybe it was because you could’ve died and life had become too short to waste time pretending that you didn’t love Joel Miller with every fiber of your being, that he wasn’t the air you breathed or the blood pumping through your veins or the sun shining through your bedroom window in the morning. Maybe he reciprocated because you almost died, you almost broke your promise to him and the thought of you leaving his world without you ever knowing the way you breathed life back into his wretched body pained him far worse than any wound he had ever suffered.
"I worry when you go out there by yourself. You never know."
"You know I’ll always come back to you, Joel."
"You can’t be sure of that."
"I prom–"
"You can’t promise that."
"Yes, I can. I just did. You know I don’t break my promises."
It all came to a head on that couch. All of the stolen glances; the evenings spent lying in bed together, reminiscing on a life that no longer existed and picturing one that had yet to come to fruition; the accidental touches that were never truly accidents; the way that the two of you, together, were one of the last pure things left in the world, and you had somehow managed to come together in the midst of unspeakable horror to alleviate the neverending loneliness that crushed your souls for the last twenty years.
You brought Joel Miller back to life, lifted the child-sized grief riding on his shoulders, and bore the weight with him.
So, the least Joel could do was take care of you. He was a man of action, and you needed to forget that the world existed outside of the four walls and roof of his home; you needed a release, and he was happy to provide it for you. So, maybe that was why he reciprocated, why he softly grabbed your chin with his calloused hands and tilted it up so that he had free access to your neck. Delicate whimpers escaped from your kiss-swollen lips as he nipped at the juncture of your jawline and neck, leaving behind the faintest traces of purple that you would surely chastise him for in the morning. He played you like one of his guitars, and it was the sweetest melody to ever grace his ears.
You whined—a desperate sound he didn’t know your vocal chords possessed the ability to create—when he pulled your body off of his lap and sat you beside him on the couch. "What’re you doing?" You questioned him as he rose from the couch. For a moment, you feared that you had overstepped, that you had misread his affections and he thought of you in the same way he did Ellie. It crushed you, but only for a moment, because that was all the time it took for him to get on his knees in front of you, his large hands spreading your legs apart so that he could nestle in between them. The position sent discomfort through his persistently aching knees, but he didn’t have the willpower to care. Not when your eyes were practically begging him to continue, and your hands cupped his jaw and your thumb rubbed in a circular motion on his chin, grazing over his bottom lip when the pattern widened slightly.
"Let me take care of you, darlin’. Just relax for me." You thought that you were on fire when his arm brushed against yours in the woods, but that paled in comparison to the inferno raging inside of your stomach when Joel began unbuttoning your jeans. He was so gentle that if you closed your eyes, it was almost as though he wasn't there to begin with, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. Why would you, when he stared at you with such adoration, his hair already a mess, his pupils dilated despite the light shining in through the windows, on his knees for you?
Joel Miller didn’t have a submissive bone in his body, but he still bent the knee to you as though you were royalty, touched you like you were the only woman to exist, and you wanted to watch every second of it.
"This isn’t real." You whispered. He gripped your thigh, almost to the point of pain. You didn’t wake up.
"Do you want it to be?"
"God, yes."
You quickly learned that Joel liked to take his time. He was never a patient man, but with you? With you, he would wait until the end of infinity, until time ceased to pass and the seasons no longer existed. It felt as though it was exactly what he was waiting for as he left open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs, never quite reaching where you so desperately needed him. The longer he drew it out, the closer you came to believing that you had died in the woods and were mistakenly sent to heaven. His kisses were hot coals peppering your legs.
"Joel, stop tea—" He had already read your mind. He had a tendency to do so; some days, you thought he could truly see inside of you, could hear the thoughts bouncing around your brain. That couldn’t have been true. If he did, he would have known how badly you wanted him, just like he was in that moment months ago.
His deft fingers moved aside the cotton of your panties—had it been twenty years ago, you would have picked the silkiest of fabrics, tempted him into ripping them off of you, but undergarments were hard to come by and they were one of the few pairs you owned, so he took special care not to stretch or rip the fabric. His tongue licked a thick stripe up your center, grazing over a bundle of nerves that sent your body jolting, eliciting a chuckle from the man below you. It infuriated you that, despite being below you, he was still in complete and utter control of you. He clouded every inch of your senses, left you a complete mess above him and he had the audacity to laugh.
Your hands flew to his messy, salt-and-pepper hair as he began focusing on that bundle. You had never felt so alive. His tongue was hot, reaching all of the right places, and it left you an absolute mess. Joel had never seen you so desperate; he had never seen you beg, and he never thought he would, but now he was addicted. He thought he could spend the rest of his life between your legs and still never be satisfied.
It did not take long for that familiar knot to begin tightening in your stomach. "I— fuck— Joel." Words were completely lost on you, your brain was too overwhelmed with his tongue working your clit. Maybe it was because it had been the better part of five years since you had truly been with someone, or maybe it was because Joel knew exactly what he was doing and all of the right places to touch, or maybe it was both, but your orgasm hit you hard. Your back arched as your body was engulfed in white-hot pleasure, and your eyes screwed shut as you cried out into the empty room. Your fingers pulled tighter on Joel’s hair, and he moaned. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.
You thought he would be done after that, that he would realize what he had done and what it meant and would run away with his tail between his legs. It seemed that only you had the power to truly scare Joel Miller. You tried to pull his head back up to you, but he wanted no part of it, finding shelter between your legs. His rough hands rubbed your thighs up and down and up and down while he went back to peppering kisses on the supple skin, whispering soft praises to you.
You did so good.
Such a good girl.
Sound so beautiful.
You were so caught up in the praise, in the way it warmed your body almost as much as your orgasm had that you missed his fingers trailing higher and higher until two of them were circling your clit and your body felt like a live wire. "Give me one more," he pleaded, and how could you say no to him?
Your second orgasm hit you harder and faster than the first. Joel applied ruthless stimulation to such a devastating spot that no one had hit so perfectly before, and it had you seeing stars behind closed eyes. When he added his tongue back, you were a goner, reduced to incoherent babbling, the only discernible words being, "Joel," and, "Please don’t stop." He was happy to oblige.
He strained painfully in the denim of his jeans, desperately wanting you underneath him; he wanted to look in your eyes as you came apart for him, and he wanted to feel you tighten around him and beg him for more, but he knew this wasn’t about him. It was about you, the way you desperately needed someone to hold onto; you needed a release, and he was happy to be nothing more than that for the time being.
When you came down, Joel whispered more praises to you, this time into the crook of your neck as he trailed more kisses across the skin. You could not remember the last time you were on the receiving end of something so tender, but you wanted it to last a lifetime. It made you feel human in a world that was going extinct; you felt alive again, and you weren't convinced it was only the orgasm that had done it. You knew it was Joel. You knew it was the way he kissed you, ran his hands over your body, and whispered those sweet nothings into your ear that had you remembering you were still human after everything you had done.
"Joel," you said, your eyes closed and your head tilted back as he rested in your neck.You had a million things you wanted to ask him. The words were stuck in your throat, and you choked on them. You knew he could see it.
"Just relax for me," He said it once again, but this time it made you melt. He lifted his head off of you, and pushed yours into his shoulder. "Don’t worry about me."
"You know I’m going to."
"Yeah," he almost laughed, "I know." You fell asleep with him petting your hair and his arm wrapped around your shoulders. The position was uncomfortable, and you would surely wake with stiffness in your neck, but you would have rather died than be without him and the scent of dirt and musk that flooded your senses. He was everything that you needed in that moment, and you knew some things were better left unsaid; the silence was an easier burden to bear than going a lifetime knowing with absolute certainty that he didn’t feel the same. Would he feel the same?
You thought your question was answered when you heard him humming to you as your mind became clouded with sleep.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#tlou show#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic
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Ｓｔａｙ ｗｉｔｈ ｍｅ ｆｏｒｅｖｅｒ グ横ズ亜
Content: Chapter 223, Kantou manji arc, Flashback where before Draken dies in the beach, Mikey and you are talking alone together.
WARNINGS: Fluff, a bit of angst becuase y’all know the context behind this flashback😭, Mikey is in love with you since you were little, Mikey loves reader, reader is oblivious to it😝 , Mikey sort of confesses(?)
AN: I was rereading Tokyo revengers because I just love it so much and this scene was literally so beautiful. Like imagine being with Mikey watching the sunrise. I wish he was real bruh I would’ve married him LMAO.
Also your interest here is astrology so imagine you brought a microscope, and other astrology things because you’re smart. I LOVE SMART WOMEN BRUH THEYRE SO HOT AND THATS YOU😍😍😍
Enjoy cuties~
I highly recommend listening to these songs as you’re reading, made me tear up a little😢
The last flashback Draken remembered was on January 1st, 2005. Toman’s founding members with the addition to Angry and Smiley with Chifuyu and Pey-Yan, and of course you, was riding their bikes to the beach, yelling at each other their excitement. Of course you were right behind Mikey, holding onto the seat, too shy to hold onto his waist but he’s wishing you’d just hold a hand on him. You had a heavy backpack filled with your bendable microscope, notebooks, maps, etc. you were the one who suggested this since you had such a passion for the stars.
TINY FLASHBACK
“We should watch the stars and sunrise before the the new year! It’d be so pretty, I’ll bring my stuff so we can watch the stars.” You beamed to Mikey as he was sucking on his usual teriyaki. “Ooh! Sounds fun. Where?” He said tilting his head. “The beach! I heard the sky will be really clear, and the sunrise is gonna be bright, it’d be so pretty.” You said filling your cup of water. “Toman would really enjoy it!” You smiled innocently, he pouted thinking it was just gonna be the two of you. “Oh. Sure, sure~” He said continuing to pout.
END OF FLASHBACK
“Baji!! How did the Olympus incident go?!” Draken yelled through all the harsh, loud sounds of the motor bikes speeding up.
“Those punks were just the first squad, so we beat them up easily!” Baji said, pretending he wasn’t proud of himself.
They were talking amongst themselves on their bikes, while you and Mikey had your own conversation.
“Wow, it’s chillier than I’d thought it’d be, and I brought multiple blankets and layers.” You said, holding back your shaking, keeping your hair from blowing all over the place.”
“Sounds like you need more body heat..” Mikey said, he knew what he was doing. “I have a jacket in my backpack but it’s too dangerous to take it out..” you said looking over his shoulder.
“Hold on to me then…” he finally bursted out. Shutting his mouth before he said anything else. You slightly flushed, feeling a bit giddy holding on to him. He was always physically affectionate but you were never the one to initiate it. “Oh..yeah sure.” You shyly said, holding onto his shoulder. Mikey had to stop himself from rolling his eyes teasingly.
“Silly girl, you’re not gonna get any warmth like that. Don’t be all shy now~” he teased, smiling.
“W-well I thought it would be uncomfortable for you! Since your driving and all!” You panicked. He let out a hearty laugh. “Just do it, [Name]!”
You gulped before finally wrapping your arms around his waist, he felt shivers down his spine, but not from the crisp, cold air blowing through your faces. Dammit [Name] you’re so…oblivious! He thought.
—————————————————————————————————-
You guys parked your bikes and walked to the shore of the beach, you flattened a large fluffy blanket on the ground, preparing your microscope. The others were laughing and running. Obviously getting adrenaline from the scene in front of them. Who wouldn’t? The air was crisp, the wind slightly blowing, the moon was shining bright, slowly going down. It wasn’t snowy but it sure was cold, you spotted Mikey heading to the edge of the bridge and tilted your head in confusion. -I wonder what he’s thinking about- You thought.
“Of course you brought your microscope, you damn dork.” A raspy low voice startled you. Turning around you saw Baji smirking, sitting down with Chifuyu next to him. “Of course I did! I told you I was gonna bring it.” You puffed, he laughed while Chifuyu was looking at your notes. “Damn [Name], are you ever gonna major in Astronomy? These are some intelligent notes.” Chifuyu praised and you smiled.
“No, it’s just a hobby for me. Making something I enjoy so much into work would be so depressing.” You laughed. He nodded, agreeing. Mitsuya, Pah-chin, and Pey-yan joined looking at your notes as well, making fun of each other saying that they’d never be able to be as knowledgeable as you were. Draken praised at how you were always the brains of the group and you laughed, enjoying this moment. This was definitely gonna be a core memory for you.
You looked at Mikey at the bridge, -he’s been there for a long time- you thought. You got up, patting your clothes. “I’ll be right back guys, they nodded, still talking among themselves. You walked to where Mikey was. The wind was blowing through his tied half up hair, the last moments of the moonlight shining on him, making him look majestic. You smiled as you inched closer to him.
“It’s pretty right? I knew you’d like it~” you said proudly, crossing your arms with your chin up in the air. He chuckled as looked over at you. Moments like this made you feel so attached to Mikey, and likewise to him. You’ve guys known each other since you were young, way before Emma joined his family. You were the only person who understood him, who he could be vulnerable to, who he could always count on. When his mom died, you were the first person he ran to, he didn’t want to cry, but you had this effect on people where they could be open to you. Your warm heart touching many people, your ambitions, your sense of understanding in peoples feelings and thoughts. It’s what attracted him the most. When Shinichiro died, the same thing, you hugged him, as he sobbed to your neck. You felt so terrible for him. Why was so many awful things happen to such a good kid? You always saw stories about how bad things happen to the best people. Mikey was another victim.
Something in his heart was telling him to tell you everything about how he feels about you.
“..[Name]…” he started, it was too late to stop himself now.
“Hmm?” You softly replied. Still admiring last bit of the moonlight.
“No matter what happens, with Toman or anything else, you’ll be with me forever right?”
You looked at him finally, and found he was already staring at you. He was admiring you while you were admiring the moon. You flushed lightly, feeling shy under his gaze but unable to look away. “Of course I will. I’m willing to be with you through every trial in your life. Like always.” You smiled lovingly. His dark onyx staring into yours, you could almost see your reflection in them. His eyes shined brightly at your answer
“Then please stay with me…….forever, okay? Don’t leave me.” He said. You smiled and shook your head. “I’m not gonna go anywhere, Mikey…”
He smiled as the sun rose, the light shining on both you and Mikey as he admired your beauty.
“Oh shoot, I brought my stuff all for nothing!!” You pouted as Mikey laughed.
“Aww poor [Nickname]~~” he teased as you puffed. He smiled at your pouting face, cooing at how cute you were.
“Next time, we’ll go again. Just the two of us.” he smiled at you, a loving look in your eyes. People cool assume you guys were lovers from how he was looking at you.
You smiled yourself, looking at the sunrise. The two of you watching it together.
……
Draken smiled, remembering the moment before closing his eyes, death blurring his vision, thinking of walking with Emma. He just wished Mikey came back. It probably would have stopped you from leaving..
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Sorry the ending is sad😊 don’t copy, translate, or repost my work please😘
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers mikey#manjiro sano#manjiro sano x reader#mikey sano#mikey x reader#mikey x y/n#manjiro sano x y/n#SoundCloud
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Horny Drabble 4 - Of Maids and Toys
hi im at it again with horny drabbles
cw afab! reader maid dress, sex toys, smut,over stim, scara being a bit of a jerk
MDNI
You had been teasing him all day with your maid outfit that was a size too small, riding up everytime you bent over, showing off your black lacy panties, complete with garter belt and straps. Black stockings adorned your legs, and the heels made your legs look extra long today. Your tits had been squished together by the boob window, showing off your cleavage. Best part was you were not wearing a bra today, so your erect nipples showed through the thin fabric. There were fake cat ears atop your head, held in by barrettes.
The two of you went to a book store to pick up some manga for the week. He preferred the shounen genre while you preferred the seinen and shoujo ones. Scaramouche picked out a manga or two that had two characters facing off like they were about to fight, while you picked up a light novel with a girl or two on there dressed in a questionable outfit. An idea struck you, and you pretend to stumble and drop the books in a controlled fashion, as to not bend the covers or any of the pages.
“Oops, I dropped something; better pick it up,” You tease Scaramouche. Making sure your ass was in full view, you bent over elegantly to pick up the books you had dropped. Scaramouche flushed at seeing your plump ass in his face. Sensing that he was turning red yet again, you make sure to shake your butt a few times before standing back up and brushing out the wrinkles in your dress.
Unable to take it anymore, Scaramouche walks over to you and whispers in your ears, “If you keep teasing me like that, I might have to tease you right back.” Shivers went down your spine, and goose bumps appeared on your skin. Eager to find out what he had in store for you, you press his arm between your tits, tightly holding on to him and making sure he could feel your nipples. He covered his mouth with his other hand; the sight of you was almost too lewd and cute all at the same time.
As you two leave the store, Scara kept looking over at you, smiling a bit as he did. You had to wonder what was going through his head. Was it lewd thoughts of him fucking you raw? Was it how cute you were all dolled up for the day?
Once you got home, Scaramouche took the bag of books out of your hands and placed them on the counter before shoving you against a wall, knee between your legs. He kissed you passionately, not wasting anytime nipping at your bottom lip. Not asking for the permission you would have given him anyways, he thrusts his tongue in your mouth, resulting in a make out session. Scaramouche ran his hands up and down your torso, making sure to savor your chest on each pass. He took you into the bedroom where he almost threw you onto the bed and wnet over your night stand where you kept several toys to keep yourself busy while he wasn’t home, not that any of them compared to his cock of course. He takes one out: a purple one with a clit stimulator.
“I see you’ve been a dirty girl while I’m away,” He smirks. “I bet you want my cock more than this poor pitiful thing, don’t you?”
You nod, eyes haze over with lust. Your needy hole was dripping with desire; you wished that he would hurry up and take you right then and there. Seeing the glint in his eyes, however, you knew you would be in for a long night.
Scaramouche strips off your panties first, leaving your pussy exposed to the cold air. After that, he pulls you on top of him and you start trying to grind on his clothed cock. He holds your hip in place, preventing them from moving anymore. You try and and try to get some relief for your needy hole, but Scaramouche just wasn't having it.
“You’ve been teasing me all day, so why shouldn’t I return the favor?”
He pulled down the chest piece covering your boobs, erect nipples exposed, perfect for sucking on. Despite not being completely naked, you felt exposed. Your chest was on full display for him, perfect for grabbing. Scaramouche leans up and starts sucking on your nipple, swirling his tongue around it like he was eating ice cream off a cone. As he plays with your nipples, he grabs one of the toys from the bedside and tells you to fuck yourself on it.
“But Scara,” you whine. “I don't want this stupid toy, I want your cock!”
“Too bad, should have thought about that when you bought it.” Scaramouche shrugged.
You dismount him and lean back and play with your clit a little bit before pushing the toy into your needy hole. The toy bottoms out in you and you turn the vibration on, letting out a moan as it starts. Scaramouche's pupils went wide, obviously turned on by the sight of you fucking yourself on the toy, slightly wishing it was his own cock stuffing you full. But bad girls who don't wait for their boyfriend's need to be punished after all.
Pistoning the toy and out, Your walls clench and clench around the toy, trying to milk it for everything it's worth. A half orgasm rushes over you, leaving you unsatisfied and slightly over stimulated. Scaramouche was watching the entire time, running one hand over his half hard shaft in preparation for his own fun.
Scaramouche yanked the toy out of you, before stuffing your needy hole with his own cock. You orgasmed again, creaming all over his cock. Smirking, he thrusts even deeper into you, hitting that sweet spot that the toy had been missing.
“Scara~~” You moan. “It’s to m-much!”
“Too bad, you're in for a long night with both me and the toys.”
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