#man the way they are looking at each other
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NEED ME? ━ L.N
in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.
warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.
it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.
“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.
the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.
he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.
“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.
he had his best friends best interest at heart.
“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.
and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.
but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.
“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.
the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.
he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.
there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.
that’s what lando thought anyways.
standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.
small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.
the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.
he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.
you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.
you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.
it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.
until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.
it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.
your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.
you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.
“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.
your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.
“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.
you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.
“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.
you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.
“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.
if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.
he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.
it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.
that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.
“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.
who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.
but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.
“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.
you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.
“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.
lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.
“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.
lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.
the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.
lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.
“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.
“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.
“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.
lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.
“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.
“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.
“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.
but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.
“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.
“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.
however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.
“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.
suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.
your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.
and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.
“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.
truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.
“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.
lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.
“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.
you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.
“just deprived i think,” you sighed.
lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.
and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.
and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.
he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.
his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?
he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.
“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.
max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.
“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.
had he been oblivious to the pair of you?
“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.
lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.
“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.
“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.
“whatever you say,” max mused.
lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.
dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.
you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.
forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.
lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.
he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.
he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.
he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.
not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.
even though it was all he wanted to do.
he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.
he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.
it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.
3:42 the clock read.
lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.
instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.
surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.
you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.
he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.
it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.
your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.
you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.
“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.
typical.
“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.
maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.
“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.
“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.
you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.
“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.
his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.
lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.
“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.
it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.
you’d only been out on the balcony once today.
“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.
“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.
“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.
it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.
“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.
you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.
you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.
but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.
“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.
was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.
“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.
they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.
“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.
the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.
he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.
“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.
you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.
your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.
“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.
lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.
it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.
“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.
you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.
“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.
his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.
you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.
“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.
it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.
your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.
lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.
he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:
his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.
as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.
you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.
he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.
“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.
your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.
his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.
“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.
he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.
lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.
his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.
“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.
he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.
you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.
but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.
your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.
lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.
“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.
your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.
you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.
“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.
your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.
his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.
lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.
your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.
he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.
you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.
he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.
definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.
lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.
when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.
you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.
“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.
“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.
if only she knew.
you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.
“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.
you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.
“i’ll keep that in mind.”
the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.
lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.
you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.
you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?
“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.
except she didn’t know the half of it.
“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.
you knew he was listening.
“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.
your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.
“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.
“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.
“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.
who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.
it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.
you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.
lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.
the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.
you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.
and he knew it.
so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.
which was easy.
it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.
made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.
left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.
there were sliding doors.
two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.
you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.
but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.
you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.
you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.
finally however, you got lucky.
lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.
you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.
your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.
that’s where lando found you.
stood in the kitchen. of course.
tiny bikini. typical.
and no one else in sight. lovely.
“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.
the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.
you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.
“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.
he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.
he should go up to his room.
“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.
the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.
“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.
lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.
that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.
he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.
“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.
you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.
“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.
you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.
“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.
you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.
so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.
“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.
once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.
“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.
his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.
lando always had a kink for making you beg.
“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”
your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.
“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”
you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.
it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.
able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.
you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.
“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.
he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.
“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.
your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.
“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.
it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.
it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.
the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.
your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.
he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.
you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.
the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.
so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.
his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.
he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.
he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.
“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.
you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.
his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.
his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.
your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.
taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.
“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.
he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.
you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.
his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.
“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.
you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.
and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.
but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.
the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.
your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.
because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.
you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.
you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.
lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.
it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.
you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.
he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.
it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.
“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.
it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.
his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.
“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.
how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.
you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.
he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.
“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.
he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.
“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.
you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.
you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.
“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.
“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”
your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.
you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.
his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.
“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.
you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.
his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.
“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.
his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.
whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.
you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.
lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.
he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.
he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.
you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.
your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.
“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.
lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.
“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.
“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.
his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.
it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.
“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”
it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.
“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.
he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.
his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.
“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.
you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.
“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.
lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.
your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.
lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.
his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.
your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 
it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.
“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.
“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.
you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.
lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.
it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.
“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.
the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.
“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.
your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.
his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.
“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.
your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.
“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.
he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.
the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.
too long.
“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.
his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.
every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.
“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.
the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.
it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.
safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.
lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.
his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.
he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.
“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.
you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.
“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.
you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.
“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.
it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.
“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.
the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.
all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.
it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.
you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.
but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.
“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.
one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.
he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.
when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.
chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.
“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.
your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.
you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.
and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.
“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.
━━
a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???
anyways idk what this is but here it is
unedited atm so apologies xox
as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris one shot#lando norris imagine#lando norris angst#lando norris#f1 angst#f1 one shot#lando norris fluff
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Teach Me
Aemond Targaryen x female reader smut (Rhaenyra & Harwin Laenor Velaryon's daughter)
After your family gathers in King's Landing for Maelor's name day celebrations, tensions build between in more ways than expected. A lesson in High Valryian from your uncle Aemond causes a mutual infatuation to bubble over.
w.c: 9,398 (i know)
c.w: SMUT 18+ , targcest (uncle & niece), NO use of Y/N, oral (m & f receiving), afab reader, foreplay, unprotected p in v sex, the slowest of slowburns to ever exist, mild aemond angst, but also kinda soft aemond(?), fluff to finish ofc, small implied age gap, reader is briefly mentioned to have Srong features, pet names (in high valyrian), use of High Valyrian all translations in text as it is spoken (E.G "Rytsa Skorkydoso glaesā?" (Hi how are you?)) (i didn't translate these everytime bc i used them a lot so: mandianna = niece (child of your older sister), iāpa = uncle), pls let me know if i've missed any
a.n: so this came from a post i did the other day, and @sinistersnakey9419 gave me the idea for this fic and it had me giggling and kicking my feet fr. also, this took me like a week to write because i kept adding more plot teehee.
dividers: @saradika ♡
It was a week into your families stay at King’s Landing. The Red Keep was a familiar place, but it was no Dragonstone. Your Grandsire, King Viserys, had made it his wish of his for his family to be together to celebrate Maelor’s name day which was to be a multiple day affair. And he meant all of his family, regardless of the fabricated tensions that divided you. As Rhaenyra’s second eldest and only surviving daughter, you felt an unspoken pressure to help maintain the peace between the brothers of the family. One side couldn’t help but torment whilst the other was quick to defend his family by any means. You missed being back on Dragonstone, but this was an exciting place to be. Days were filled with activities befitting of a young lady, and you enjoyed spending time with your Aunt Helaena – both of you appreciated a sisterly figure from within each other. There was one presence you couldn’t quite understand. Aemond. Your uncle had watched you closely since you first arrived, it had been a time since you had both seen each other. He had grown into a very tall and incredibly handsome man; he was more pleasing to the eye than he should be. His large frame and equanimous demeanour loomed over you, even from the other side of a room. His gaze stuck upon you like a hound tracking game. You couldn’t help but assume, like most other members of his side of the family, he held nothing but judgemental distain for you and your brown-haired brothers.
The mornings were always the same, Viserys had wished for you all to break your fast together daily. That had started to dwindle until the King had heard of it and demanded you eat together regardless of his presence. It was going about as well as it had the past week, Aegon’s head in a cup, Alicent on edge at every second.
“The maesters have been helping us with our Valyrian.” Spouted Lucerys, he was sweet, too sweet and sensed a smog of tension over the room. Rhaenyra smiled, appreciating your brother’s attempt.
“Let us hear it then.” Daemon announced leaning back in his seat.
“Rēbagon se gerpa kostilus.” (Pass the fruit please). Lucerys seemed impressed with his statement, Daemon seems confused for a moment before leaning forward and sliding the dish of grapes over towards Luke. A short scoff was heard from across the table, Aemond sat casually, smirk laden on his lips.
“Something the matter, Uncle?” Jacaerys spoke through slight gritted teeth. Aemond raised a hand in a defensive motion, smile still playing at his lips.
“What my brother wants to say,” Aegon peeled his face up from the tablecloth and took a swig of whatever was in his cup at this hour, “Is that your ‘High Valyrian’ sounded more like Old Ghiscari.” Lucerys smile faded as he looked to your mother for reassurance. You sighed, looking down at you half-finished plate as yet another verbal disagreement erupted between the men in your life. You rose to your feet with more haste than you anticipated causing your chair to wobble and crash onto the stone floor behind you. The room fell silent, and you felt everyone’s eyes burning into your skin.
Your gaze remained vacant, lingering on the table, “May I please be excused.” You were embarrassed: of your outburst, your family’s inability to get along, your uncles’ comments. Mostly due to the fact they were right, Lucerys’ nor Jacaerys High Valyrian was perfect, and it just added to the rumours that spread about your family. Your mother had barely spoke an ‘of course’ before you took your leave, nails digging crescents into your palms.
Leaves rustled beneath your feet as you paced the grass of the Godswood, it was always a small sanctuary of peace for it’s quiet and empty nature. You closed your eyes and let the sun beam down on your face, if you imagined hard enough you could feel the cold breeze from your balcony at Dragonstone. A harsh snapping of a twig pulled you from your thoughts, your head shooting up towards the direction of the disturbance. Aemond stood a few paces away from you, palm raised in a surrendering motion. You released a breath you had been holding onto, bringing your hands together to fiddle with the clasp of your bracelet. “I did not mean to startle you, Mandianna,” He took a stride closer towards you, hands clasped behind his back. “You caused quite a scene. For a princess.” Your eyes stayed fixated on the ground beneath the two of you. This was the first time you had ever been alone with Aemond, and he was being agreeable? It was hard to deny how beautiful he was, even just from the stolen glances towards him. You knew about sex, parts of what it entailed. From a few detailed paintings to the small snippets you overheard from the younger handmaidens. You hadn’t spent an awful lot of time thinking about it apart from when conversations of finding you a match came around. That was until this week, something about being around Aemond meant fighting away thoughts of him a regular occurrence.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you picked up your chin to meet Aemond’s stare. It was softer, and more inquisitive than his usual piercing gaze. Your stomach dropped as thoughts of him bending you over and fucking you right here in the Godswood clouded your mind, how his hands would feel over your body, his tongue across your neck and between your thighs, how it would feel him sliding – “Keli jiōraton aōha ēngos byka genes?” (Cat got your tongue little mouse?). You felt heat rising towards cheeks and across your chest as you tried to mask your raised heart rate. You were pretty sure Aemond couldn’t read your thoughts, but the small smile that played at his lips made you feel otherwise. Something about your close proximity, the way you could make out each detail of his face, and his intoxicating smell had muzzled you. Lips parted to respond but nothing came out. You felt helpless in the best way possible. “A Velaryon princess who can’t hold a High Valyrian conversation, you disappoint me Mandianna.” Aemond turned on his heel, briskly walking towards the wood’s exit.
Maybe it was the need to please, the burning between your thighs, or the fact he was no longer facing you, but the words escaped your lips before you could even process what you had said, “Teach me.” The small wave of confidence dwindled when he turned his head back to face you.
“Teach you?”
“Teach me what you think I should know, Iāpa.” You didn’t know how he would respond, nor did you know how you wished for him to respond. Aemond raised a brow and smiled to himself, your small use of High Valyrian and how your statement could be interpreted in many different made him intrigued to see where this would lead.
“Tomorrow evening, after supper. Meet me in the library’s reading room.” Without needing a response, he once again made his way out of the wood, leaving you flustered and equally excited, yet dread filled.
As supper slowly began to drew to a close, your excitement manifested in a small bobbing of your leg. Actual conversation rang out between small groups on the table, Lucerys and Helaena had included you in there’s but all you could focus on was keeping your thoughts clear. Everything about Aemond drew you further in his lips softly against his cup, the way his index and middle finger tapped along to the quiet music that had been played, but most of all the way he would catch you watching with a satisfied smile. You partially walked back to your chambers, before feigning forgetting a ring behind at the table, and insisting to your mother and Daemon that it couldn’t wait until morning. Part of you wondered if you shouldn’t have lied, there was a simple explanation: getting lessons in High Valyrian from your uncle Aemond. Except this would not go over well with your immediate family. For you could hold a conversation in High Valyrian, it was Aemond you couldn’t speak to specifically. You were actually quite proficient in High Valyrian, not as much as you’d hoped to be but a whole lot better than your brothers. Whether it was common tongue or Valyrian Aemond rendered you speechless, and now you were willingly walking into a situation where he had complete control. You knew for certain how much you longed for him, but other than glances you couldn’t figure out what he truly felt. Part of you wanted to be under him at every moment possible but if he didn’t feel the same, if his glances were all a trick, you’d be ruined.
After stepping through the library, you took one final breath before opening the heavy oak door to the reading room. It pushed open with a small creak to reveal Aemond sat at the desk, tattered book in hand. “I thought you might’ve gotten cold feet,” he closed the book and softly placed it on the table, “Come take a seat.” He arose, pulling the wooden chair beside him out from the table, allowing you to sit down. You nodded your head slightly before taking a seat, smoothing out any creases in your dress. Taking a moment to examine the reading room in the dark, you noticed the two brass cups and a wine jug, along with numerous High Valyrian scriptures and books with plain parchment and a fresh quill. Aemond himself was wearing his usual attire, except his black coat had been unbuckled a few straps, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed, eyeing the wine. Everything seemed real of a sudden. You weren’t used to drinking wine, especially alone at night. Sensing your nervousness, Aemond picked up a cup and placed it in front of you, “Just because it is my drink of choice for the evening,” he poured a small amount into his own cup, “Doesn’t mean I expect you to partake, Mandianna.” You paused for a moment before shaking your head ‘no’ and sliding your cup away. “Very well, read this out for me, I want to hear what you can do already.” He relished in how you squirmed when he was close to you. You looked down at the papers in front of you, ‘Aegon the Conqueror, The High Valyrian Scriptures’. You knew all about Aegon the Dragon, but the words escaped you as Aemond stood behind you, left hand atop your chair, right hand holding up his weight on the table. You felt a few strands of his long hair tickle your shoulder, the closeness of him made you feel as if you could burst. “Go on then, read it.” He said, almost a whisper. His lips were so close yet still too far, you could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke but not the softness of his lips on your skin. This is the type of torture that scribes should mention.
“Aegon I Targaryen iksin se ēlī āeksio hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-“ (Aegon I Targaryen was the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and-). You paused as Aemond moved from behind you to stand beside the table.
“I didn’t say stop.” His firm tone excited you more than you wanted it to.
“se dārys va se Dēmalion Āegenko.” (and king on the Iron Throne). You continued, looking up to Aemond for approval. He nodded before gathering up the papers from in front of you and holding them in his hands. Puzzled, you turned to face him “But-“
“Too easy, you know how the story goes, tell it to me in High Valyrian.” Aemond looked pleased with himself as he sat back into his own chair that now faced yours.
You looked down at the floor for a moment, before continuing “Ziry kithsair bȳre hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-ziry se-“ (He conquered six of the seven kingdoms and-he a-nd-). Yet again, your words escaped your lips as Aemond’s gaze wandered over your body, free to visually devour your form now you were not in the company of others.
He inhaled sharply and rose to his feet, “Valyrio Eglie iksis iā kostōba udrir, se ēdruta sagon spoken hae mēre. Aōha udra issi nākostōbā, ao ȳdragon tolī rāpa. Eman daor drīve geptot naejot dohaeragon ao byka genes.” (High Valyrian is a powerful language and must be spoken as one. Your words are weak, you speak too softly. I cannot help you little mouse.) His words came at you fast and rather harshly, you hated the effect he had on you, and you hated how he judged you for it. You searched his face for something more, surely all of this was not over, the yearning looks, the candlelight, the wine, did it not mean something more? As your mind raced you looked towards the floor and wished it would envelop you. Aemond sighed, and placed the scriptures that you had read from under your chin and used them to lift you face up towards his. Your brows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him standing over you. “You don’t understand do you Mandianna,” He chuckled softly, tilting you head to his will. “Nyke would qogralbar ao ēva ao could gaomagon daorun yn ilagon isse ñuha baer mirre tubis byka genes.” (I would fuck you until you could do nothing but lay in my bed all day little mouse.) He dropped the scriptures onto the table, taking his leave with such haste that you felt he air pass by through your hair. Once his footsteps dissipated you felt as your jaw went slack. The wetness grew between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together, attempting to relieve some of the mounding pressure.
Your heart thudded in your chest like a drum, you swiftly shut the door to your chambers and tried to steady your shaky breathing. After shedding yourself of your dress you made your way to the vanity and undid your hairstyle of the day. As your fingers worked between your hair you imagined Aemond’s large hands making their way through it, your fingers delicately glided across the crook of your neck before resting upon the warmth of your chest. If Aemond wanted to play games then you would gladly oblige, except this time you knew he wanted to play.
Your reading was interrupted by the ever-persistent King’s Landing ladies in waiting, you’d usually grumble except it was the first day of Maelor’s name day celebrations and you were taught the importance of good first impressions. Today would be important as Lords and Ladies of every great house would be there and you were yet to find a betrothed who was approved by the heir to the iron throne, your brothers, and Daemon, who once sent a young lord away teary eyed with embarrassment. You smiled to yourself as the ladies working on you bickered between what way to style your hair for the occasion. “What about something mostly up, with a few small braids, and the red gem hairpins? I think that’ll match the dress I picked out for tonight.” They glanced between each other, smiled, and got to work on your dark hair. Part of you was filled with excitement, it had been a while since you had an excuse to dress up, and it was even more thrilling at the thought of catching Aemond’s attention over all the other Ladies present. As the late afternoon rolled around you were finally considered presentable to the guests in the great hall. You eyed your reflection, your hair lifted to expose your neck and clavicle, dark fabric fitted to your shape with delicate blood red beading sewn into the neckline and down the sleeves finished with your gold jewellery pieces. Just as the ladies were about to leave you had an idea, “Wait! Do you have any of the rose perfume oil?” You spoke with a smile. A few knowing glances were shared between the two eldest ladies as a younger one brought over the small crystal bottle before dabbing a small amount on each wrist and on either side of your neck.
The rest of your family waited beside the towering doors of the great hall, “Finally, I thought we’d all starve.” Joffrey spouted with a huff earning a short laugh from Lucerys, a half shove from Jacaerys and a raised brow from Daemon. Your mother waved them off and placed her hands either side of your upper arms, “What a beautiful young woman you have become, my sweet child.” Rhaenyra looked upon you with great admiration as always. You smiled and squeezed her hand as you all stood together as the doors were slowly pulled open. You could feel your heart beating in your ears as the chittering in the room slowly dissipated and all heads turned to face you all. You bore a brave face following after your parent’s movements down the steps and towards the King’s table. After greeting the king, you were all seated, the family had grown rather exponentially since Rhaenyra’s wedding to your father Laenor which you had heard many stories about. You sat towards the outer curve to one side of the table, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Aemond, already watching you. So not to give him the pleasure of your gaze, you made conversations with your family next to you.
A short clearing of a throat pulled you from your conversation with Jacaerys, “I am Jorick Lannister, your graces,” He bowed his head towards you, “I was wondering if I may have the honour to ask the Princess to a dance?” He flashed his best smile at you.
You looked expectantly to your mother and Daemon, “If you wish to, then go dance.” Rhaenyra grinned, she gently touched her own elbow against Daemon’s, and he muttered something about there ‘being worse choices in the room’. You stood up from your seat, perhaps a bit too eagerly and walked around to the side of the table where the Lannister stood. He extended his hand, palm up towards you and lead you down the few steps to the crowd of dancers. You stood a pace apart and looked at the man in front of you, he was certainly handsome, dark blonde hair that waved towards the nape of his neck, gentle grey eyes. As you looked into them something caught your eye behind them. Aemond was alert, not sat in his usual laid-back posture with his cup resting in his hand on the arm of his chair. He was sat forward, stiff as a statue and boring daggers into the back of your dance partner. You swallowed as you saw the grip he had around his cup; it was solid metal but from the look on his face alone it could crumble. The music swelled as Jorick took your hand in his and placed his other upon your waist.
As you both moved across the floor, he leaned in to speak to you “How are you enjoying the capital princess.” Jorick spoke above the music.
“There’s a certain beauty to it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Dragonstone.” You spoke with truth.
Jorick chuckled, “Ah yes, it is the perfect home for a dragon. I do believe you would grow to like Catserly Rock your grace. It’s no island but the coastline is just as harsh, I miss the sound of it when I try to sleep somewhere new.”
You heartily laughed at his statement as he twirled you in a circle. “I have said that ever since we got here! But no one else seems to understand it.” While he laughed and agreed in return.
Meanwhile at the King’s table, Aemond’s jealousy bubbled harshly. Already did he have a hard time resisting taking you into his arms and treating you as you deserved, but watching another man, a Lannister at that, hold you the way he wanted to, enraged him. He counted the guards in the room to simmer his anger, but then imagined fighting them off as he cut down every person between you and him and taking you into an embrace. He was completely and utterly enamoured with you, ever since he watched you climb off of your dragon from a tower of the Red Keep. Gone had the child he knew as a babe himself and was now replaced with a woman who plagued his thoughts. Your darker hair that framed your face, eyes that crinkled when you laughed and held so much emotion, the way you smile brought him an unmanageable amount of joy. He couldn’t hate you, no matter if he tried. At this moment, he wished for it to be simple. That he wasn’t your mother’s brother, that he was just a Lord of some other house, dancing with you and holding you close. A world in which he could have you, touch you, without bearing the reprehensible disappointment of his mother or the feeling of his heart being crushed right in front of him. He had once and for all had enough after the 6th eager meek had hovered around you after each song had finished to ask for your hand. Aemond rose to his feet and made his way to you on the floor with large strides dipping in between the guests. Queen Alicent watched him with worry, he wasn’t known to dance or partake in many festivities like these.
You parted ways with your last dance partner and smiled as you were approached by yet another Lord, “My princess, I am Erich Baratheon and I would love the honour of-“ He started before being cut off by the sudden appearance of Aemond: he’d brushed past the suitor on his was to you, not harsh in any sense but it definitely took you both off guard.
The broad Baratheon was dwarfed by not only the Targaryen’s height, but his mere presence also. “Perhaps is it my turn for a dance, Mandianna.” The request seemed so lewd and intimate coming from him, despite it being what would otherwise be an innocent dance between family.
“I was just asking the Princess for a dance. Perhaps you may dance with her after?” The Baratheon mustered his bravest voice, a touch deeper than it had been a moment ago. Aemond’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he turned his head round and down with a rather dramatic tilt to amplify the inches between the pair. From this angle you could fully admire his jawline and neck. You imagined kissing across his sharp jawline, travelling down to his throat. At this moment you were so overcome with lust you imagine grazing your teeth against it and biting gently just to release some tension. After a very short stare off on the Baratheon’s end, “Perhaps not, uh- goodnight, Princess.” He had turned to walk away before even finishing his sentence, leaving you and Aemond face to face on the floor.
“That wasn’t very proper of you, uncle.” You spoke above a whisper, struggling to hold back a small laugh.
“Luckily it’s not so expected of me.” His face bore a small smile. An actual smile instead of a sly all-knowing smirk.
“I didn’t take you for a dancer either.”
“Well, someone had to put a stop to the herd of sheep begging to stomp on your feet all evening.” You couldn’t help but chuckle in agreement. Some of the Lords had been nice, decent dancers, with something to say. Others spent their time ogling your exposed skin or asking about your inheritance. You could not deny as conversations lulled between some of them, you imagined you were in the arms of Aemond instead. As the music began to swell, he offered you his hand which you gladly accepted whilst his other hand tentatively made its way to your upper waist. As he led the dance, he never looked away from you, it felt as if you were slowly melting into him. Able to ignore the few judgemental looks and quiet whispers from the people around you and just focussing on the man in front of you.
Back at the King’s table, your interaction had not gone unnoticed. Alicent’s worry had faded, she knew you had always been a sweet girl. She looked over to Rhaenyra who had already been watching her to gage a reaction and the two exchanged a small smile each. “Mother, are sister and Uncle Aemond going to get married?” Joffrey asked in matter-of-fact way, causing Rhaenyra to cough on the wine that she had sipped whilst Daemon chuckled and ruffled his dark curls.
You’d made a mental note to thank the gods for the current song choice, a slower one. Your hands flush together as the two of you rotated and eyes never leaving each other’s. As the end of the song drew close Aemond’s body moved behind you, left hand upon your waist and right taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. The latter part was not a usual for this particular dance. Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the strength of his torso behind you. “You know uncle, I have been wanting more lessons in High Valyrian, I think a few more and we could really make some progress.” It wasn’t 100% a lie, Aemond definitely could teach you some High Valyrian, but it was mostly an excuse to be in private with him again.
“Really? Because you did so well last time?” You could practically feel the smirk on his face from behind you. “I know you can ask a lot nicer than that Mandianna.” You shuddered softly at the sensation of his voice so quiet, whispering into your ear. The music pace picked up as you glided across the floor, heart beating within your ears. As the instruments came to a halt, you felt a sense of weightlessness as Aemond dipped you and held you there, so low to the ground you felt the ends of your hair touch against it. You eyed him, brows raised and chest rising and falling, feeling fully in his hands.
“Kostilus, Aemond.” (Please, Aemond) The words left your lips in a soft way that travelled straight down his spine. You could not identify the emotion that swept his face as he swiftly brought you to your feet and ripped his hands from yours. His eyes shut briefly, his hands flexing into tight fist, you were not sure what had happened. As you reached out for his hand he stepped back and kept his eyes to the ground before making his way to the exit of the great hall. You called out to him softly, but he soon disappeared in between the crowds.
Confused and a little hurt, you made your way back to your seat and looked at the remainder of your meal that had surely gone cold. You felt your mother’s hand rest upon yours, and you looked to her and smiled weakly. “Where did your uncle go sweet girl?” She spoke softly and quietly, as to avoid bringing your brothers into it.
“He mentioned that he had to go for something.” Your lie wouldn’t have fooled a stranger, let alone your own mother, but she did not pry. She gave your hand a small squeeze and gave you the mother’s look of ‘I’m here if you need me’.
Aemond briskly made his way down the corridors of the Red Keep. His hands met the roughened wooden doors to a balcony as he pushed them open and felt the chill of the night air cover him. It was not enough as he felt is blood burn hot, coursing through his veins and the sight of you in his arms. Your hair cascading down past you, exposing your neck, the way your breasts filled out your corset and raised with your breathing. That damned perfume you wore and how it mixed with your scent had been a drug to him this night. Your eyes that stared up at him like a doe and looked at him like he was a god. He couldn’t help but remember your soft plump lips, the way they parted slightly when he looked your way, how you bit your lip whilst saddling your dragon and worst of all: how deliciously his name sounded coming out of them. He had not yet heard you say his name, but it being paired with such a submissive plead made it all the more torturous. He slowly breathed through his nose; head tilted back resting on the bricks. Aemond was too infatuated with you to ever hate your effect on him. His frustrations only grew greater the more he knew you. He was at a grand dinner, filled with every food and treat he could ever imagine, yet all he wished to taste was between your legs. He decided then and there on that balcony that his affections for you must go. ‘It should not be so painful’ He thought to himself, after all, you only had a few short days left in the capital.
The following day started even earlier, with the second day of the celebrations taking place in the gardens. You yawned into the palm of your hand and watched as the front side pieces of your hair were brought back and weaved into a delicate braid. “You mustn’t stay up so late princess!” The handmaiden fretted as she pulled out the dress you had chosen yesterday. You eyed it, before glancing towards the window to see the sun breaking out through the clouds, giving you an idea.
“It looks like it could really warm up in the garden under the sun, I was thinking of wearing this dress instead.” You lifted the dark berry coloured dress up in front of your handmaidens.
“I think you may get cold your grace.” One of the younger handmaidens spoke eyeing the dress, after a harsh glare from the eldest maiden she continued, “But you will look perfect no matter what!” She clarified with a nervous chuckle. You smiled at her in reassurance and allowed the cluster of ladies to dress you. Once they had finished arguing over minor details you stood back to look at your reflection. This was a dress you had never worn before, meant for particularly warm weather. It was an off the shoulder cut, that capped your upper arms with a tie. The dark coloured material was thinner than your regular dresses and the skirt flowed with any movement you made. After trying to sound as nonchalant as possible you once again asked for the rose perfume oil. After a few dots were dabbed on your wrists and neck, you thanked your ladies and placed the delicate bottle on the vanity. Once they had filed out you reapplied a few extra drops to your skin before dropping a small amount onto your fingertips and ran it through the ends of your hair. You looked beautiful, and hoped this would gain Aemond’s affections once more.
The garden party was a success from the get-go. Conversations bubbled, drinks were poured, and the food spread was something to marvel at. You were walking through the flowerbeds, arms linked with Baela, both of your laughs travelling from reminiscing on moments from your shared childhoods. “I heard you and Aemond caused quite the stir last night.” Baela giggled, nudging her elbow into yours.
“Word does travel fast in the capital,” You laughed. “And it was not a shared commotion, he was the one who left in a rush after we danced!” You reasoned with her; slight frustration apparent in your tone.
“And what a dance it appears to have been, they’d be able to smell you from Pentos.” You frowned slightly, wondering if you had overdone it today. She turned to face you, placing her hand over yours. “I jest of course, anyone would be lucky to catch your eye.” Baela’s smile was genuine and reassured your worries. You looked around the crowds of people once more, eyes fleeting from face to face. “He’s still not arrived yet.” Your eyes met hers once again as you both burst into loud laughter.
After much convincing from Alicent and a more silent encouragement from approach from Helaena, Aemond was finally making an appearance at the garden party. He thought to himself ‘What could a child so young possibly want with such celebrations?’ He justified his annoyance for his affections for you by dismissing the whole day, but being Maelor’s uncle he was expected to be there at some point. He was mere seconds into his arrival at the party before he overheard a distinct sound that made his heart sting. The familiar song of your laughter rang out from across the gardens. Every fibre of his being urged him to look for you, just to turn his head and see your face once more. Against all odds he kept his eyes trained on the floor and made his way to a quieter corner of the event in an attempt to go against his instincts and hide from you. He stood with his cup, fingers tracing across the details, a few feet away from the largely untouched array of desserts.
You grew frustrated as you looked around once more for your uncle’s presence. “Drink this, it’ll relax your nerves.” Baela handed you a cup with a dark red liquid in the bottom of it. “I know, wine isn’t for you, but this one is sweet! I think you’ll like it.” You nodded and took a sip, there was a slight burn as you swallowed it, but the fruity taste overtook it, and you nodded in agreement with her. As Baela and Jacaerys began talking intently you decided to have a look the foods on offer. You took another sip of your wine, the sweetness made you crave the sugared fruits the cooks always put out after dinner. After glancing over each table filled with every animal you could think of, cooked in every way. Your eyes made contact with a cake that was almost the size of you. Peering round the corner of the tent your eyes spotted something even more tempting. Aemond stood to himself, brows furrowed and finger lightly tapping against his cup in slight sync with the distant music that played.
“Uncle! I thought you were not going to make an appearance.” You tried to hide your excitement as you stepped into the tent and faced him. He seemed taken aback by the sudden presence of someone. His gaze shot up from the floor and lingered on your body, fleeting from your face to the way your dress fitted your figure. Just as he thought he’d mustered the strength to speak a light breeze rustled through the gardens and cascaded through your hair. ‘That damned floral perfume’ he thought to himself as he tried to hold his composure. After taking in her appearance once more, he noticed something unusual.
“I didn’t think you to be a wine drinker.” He spoke to you, his jaw clenched stiff.
You giggled slightly, “Me neither! But this one is Dornish, it’s a lot sweeter.” You took a step closer to him and held up your cup to him. “Would you like to taste?” You looked up at him through your lashes.
‘Yes’, He thought. “No.” He answered bluntly, “Thank you, no thank you.” His Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he answered, and you tilted your head slightly.
“Well, there’s plenty if you change your mind.” You smiled at him and turned towards the desserts table, various cakes, fruit pies, candied treats, decorated the large table.
You placed your cup and traced your finger across the end of the table eyeing the selection, you spotted your favourite sugared fruits. “I love these!” You exclaimed as you made your way over to the selection: cherries, berries of all kinds, plums, and peaches. You selected one of the peach slices and looked towards Aemond to find him watching intently. You popped the slice in your mouth and closed your eyes and exhaled a small ‘mmm’. You eyed the remaining sugar on your thumb and index finger. You looked into Aemond’s eye and popped the tip of your finger into your mouth and sucked the crystals off and releasing your finger with a pop. He muttered a short ‘gods’ to himself as he watched you round the table, another piece of fruit in hand. You faced him and held out the small piece of fruit. “You should taste it for yourself Aemond.” Something changed on his face, he looked down at you and slapped the fruit out of your hand and grabbed you by your wrist and led you out of the tent into the empty corridor nearby. “Uncle, Uncle!” You protested quietly once you were led far enough away to not be heard by guests.
“Let go,” you demanded, pushing his hand away. You eyed him as he turned away from you, breathing steadily, hands balled into fits. “Why have you dragged me out here?” You exclaimed in a hushed tone.
“Why have I?” He turned to face you, “Why have I?” He roared, stepping a pace towards you. Stepping backwards you felt the stone walls hit your shoulders. “It is you, you who has poisoned my thoughts ever since you got here, you who has made even existing in the same room as you arduous yet being away from you nearly impossible. You danced with every fool this side of The Narrow Sea and even then, you could not keep your eyes on them and not me. Calling me by my name. Now today-“, He furrowed his brows, remembering the sight of you in that tent. “Gods.” He whispered, running a hand over his face. “Do you really wish to torture me so?” He looked up at you, fragments of defeat washing over his face.
You pushed yourself away from the wall, taking a step towards him leaving an impossibly small gap between the two of you. “Nyke pendagon bisa iksin skoros ao jeldan hen nyke, Iāpa.” (I thought this was what you wanted from me, uncle.) His jaw remained tense, as slight confusion washed over him. You rose to the tips of your toes to whisper to him, “Hen aōha byka genes.” (From your little mouse.)
Without hesitation you felt his large hand cup the side of your face, his other snaking around your waist, the force of it pinning you towards the wall. His fingers brushed down your face, resting beneath your chin. His thumb tentatively ran across your bottom lip. Aemond leaned down to the side of your face, “Tell me to stop, tell me to stop and I will walk away.” His breath fanned over you; lips grazing against your neck. It took all of your efforts to not crumble beneath him.
“Ȳdra daor keligon.” (Don’t stop.) Your breath was shaky as Aemond brought his face to yours. You placed a hand against his chest and leaned up to kiss him before a rumble of distant laughter reminded you both of your current location.
He grabbed your hand from upon his chest and led you down the winding corridors of the Red Keep, your slippers tapping twice as fast on the floor to keep up with his long strides. As you both climbed the spiral staircase towards the chambers, voices rang out on the floor in front of you. Aemond brought you both to a halt, keeping his back against the wall and pulled your back towards him to avoid detection. “Why did we st-“ You started before feeling his large hand covering your mouth. He whispered a small shush into your ear. A heat spread across you face feeling a large bulge in his trousers, just above your ass. Once the footsteps had completely disappeared, he climbed the rest of the stairs, hand still firmly gripping yours. His spare hand pushed open the heavy door with such urgency, crashed against the wall beside it. He pulled you into his chambers, almost pulling you off your feet before only breaking eye contact to close and lock the door behind him.
He stepped towards you, unbuckling his jacket from the top. “Tell me to stop.” He once again commanded.
“No.” You spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure it had left your lips, but Aemond had definitely heard it. He pulled you close, keeping your bodies flush and brought a hand to your hair, pulling you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips graze yours slightly before delving into a deep kiss. You struggled to keep up with his desperate pace at first, feeling overwhelmed a gasp left your lips in an attempt to catch your breath. Aemond pulled away ever so slightly before planting a small kiss to the side of your mouth and kissing across your jaw.
“Turn around,” He whispered. You did as he instructed and turned your back to him. His hands gathered your hair and looped it over your shoulder. His hands traced down your back to the satin ties of your dress, before undoing the bow. You felt as his pulled your dress down your arms, down your torso and heard it drop to the floor in a light whoosh. You felt exposed, this was your first time in just your undergarments around anyone other than your handmaidens, and a man at that. His hands moved to the lacings of your corset, undoing each loop as his eyes consumed every inch of new flesh he saw. He tossed your corset to the side and pulled the rest of your undergarments off, and your arms instinctively crossed your chest. Grabbing a hold of your hand, he pulled you around to face him once more. A low groan escaped his lips at the sight of you before bringing your face to his in a deep kiss. His body led you to the foot of his bed, your back hitting one of the towering bedposts.
You let out a small gasp as his lips left yours and latched onto your neck. His hand came to your jaw and tilted your head back to look up at him. “Ivestragon nyke skoros jaelā.” (Tell me what you want.) His voice sent a heat that spread across your body.
“I want you to-“ You started before he cut you off, fingers gripping your hair slightly.
“Daor.” (No.) He eyed you, thumb tracing your jawline.
You realised what he was requesting. Your brain sped through thousands of scenarios you could’ve imagined before settling on one. “Obūljagon.” (Kneel.) You spoke with all the confidence you could gather. His typical smirk returned to his lips as he scanned your face. He was not sure what he had expected you to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. A welcomed surprise, he sank to his knees in front of you. You watched as his lips peppered small kisses across your hips, running his hands up your thighs. He parted your legs and lifted your leg up and over his shoulder by the back of your knee. You gripped the footboard of the bed to steady yourself. An almost growl left his lips at the sight of your pussy mere inches away from his face. A sharp gasp left your lips at the feeling of his large fingers spreading your wetness from your core to your clit.
He brought one of his fingers to his lips and sucked the tip of it, watching your face intently. “Mmm, all this for me?” He grumbled rubbing the inside of your thigh at a painfully slow pace.
“Yes- Kessa, syt ao.” (Yes, for you.) You felt your pussy clenching, aching to be touched. His fingers moved to your pussy, teasing your folds before starting to slowly rub circles across your clit. You let out a moan, desperate for more. A smirk painted his lips, watching you in this state. Surrounded by the plush of your thighs, your small moans filling his ears, watching your nails dig into the footboard just to cope with the sensation. His middle and third finger slid down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy.
Your eyes opened and mouth parted to question the lack of contact before you felt his two fingers slide inside of you. You let out a loud moan at the foreign sensation. He worked his fingers in and out of you at slow pace, admiring as he watched them disappear into you, stretching you out and covering them in your slick. He left small kisses on your inner thigh, keeping his eye on your face. “More,” You pleaded in between moans. Aemond considered teasing you further, before giving into your request. His sped up his fingers pumping inside of you, increasing the tightening in your lower stomach. He admired your face screwed up in pleasure for one more moment before latching his lips upon your clit. A loud ‘fuck’ left your lips, and even you were partially surprised by the vulgarity of your language before all you could think about was Aemond’s tongue. He alternated between furiously licking and sucking your clit as his fingers pumped at a rapid pace inside of you. Your other hand moved up the bed post, gripping it for dear life as the man beneath you pleasured you. Your hips involuntarily bucked into his tongue as your moans grew louder and more frequent. A moan that left Aemond’s lips vibrated across your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name and felt your pussy clench around his quick fingers. He continued to thrust them inside of you and delivered a few final licks to your clit, only stopping when your legs began to quiver. He slowly removed his fingers from your pussy and planted a final kiss on your clit, earning a shiver from you. He wiped the wetness from his chin with his cotton shirt before moving your leg off from his shoulder and rose to his feet and held his hand upon your waist sensing your wobbliness. He raised his fingers towards you admiring the wetness that coated them. He brought them up to your lips and you opened your mouth, feeling them run over your tongue towards the back of your throat. You sucked them clean, watching his expression from beneath your eyelashes.
Despite how hungrily he had attended to you, he looked at you like he was starved. “Better than any of the sugared fruits down there.” He gestured towards the window, and you blushed at his remark. Never had you been filled with such desire; you had just reached your peak on Aemond’s tongue, yet you needed more. His hand collected yours, as he led you over to his bed. His lips once again found yours as he pushed you towards the edge of the bed. The backs of your knees hit the bed and you plopped down. His lips left yours and you looked up at him expectantly. His fingers gripped the ends of his shirt before lifting it off of his head and tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes. You eyed the definition of his chest, down his stomach and his arms that landed either side of your head, pushing you down onto the bed until your head hit the pillows. His lips latched onto your neck and eagerly kissed down your chest between the valley of your breasts.
“You do not know how much I have dreamt of this,” His large hand travelled up your side to cup your breast, his hand playing with the plumpness of it before his thumb ran over your nipple. “Moaning my name, naked in my bed, all needy for me.” His tongue traced the perimeter of your nipple before taking it into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue and earning another moan from you. Those moans that could sustain him for the rest of his life he was pretty sure.
“I also dreamt of you.” You spoke meekly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. He raised his head from your breast, brow raised.
“And what did you think about little mouse.” His smirk radiated off of him. You dreamt of him. The tightness in his trousers had become almost unbearable, but he needed to hear your sweet voice talking about him.
“I was touching you, a-and you were enjoying it.” You spoke, interrupted by a moan or two from his touch stimulating your nipples. He hummed a small ‘mmm’ in response before he moving off you and laying beside you, back propped up against the headboard. You turned to your side and looked and him inquisitively, his hand rubbed slowly over the bulge in his trousers and your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape. He patted the bed next to his hips and you knelt facing him, unsure of what to expect. His hands reached for the tie of his trousers before you reached out and placed a hand over his. “Wait!” He looked at you with a hint of concern before you continued, “Can I try? And you tell me what you like along the way?” His jaw stiffened for a moment before he moved his hand to tangle in your hair and bring your lips to his.
You pulled your lips away from kiss and moved to kiss his neck. You started tenderly, mirroring how he had kissed yours as your hand slid down his chest towards his trousers. His breathing became more uneven as your hands touched him. Your hand fumbled with the tie of his trousers, struggling to undo it before you removed your lips from his collarbone to concentrate on the tie. He watched as your brows furrowed together, he felt as if he could finish at the sight of you. Beautiful and naked, trying so desperately to get into his pants. You finally undid the tie and looked up to Aemond with a sheepish smile, “I am not used to trousers it seems.” You giggled, and it seemed by reflex he planted a kiss on your lips.
“Dōna.” (Sweet) Your cheeks burned with his affection.
Your fingers looped over the hem of his trousers, and you pulled them down along with his undergarments as he lifted his hips slightly. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him, his cock was large and red at the tip. You froze for a second – the paintings and stories had not prepared you as well as you’d thought. You watched as his hand came to his cock and pumped it slowly a few times. His free hand reached for yours and replaced it with his own, “Just like this.” You followed the movements he had previously made, concentrating on trying to make him feel good. A small hiss brought your gaze back to his face to see his eye squeezed shut and hands gripping the sheets beneath him. You slowly increased your movements, enjoying the feeling of his cock in your hands, as you noticed a bead of precum spill his tip. Working on instinct you leant your head down and licked your tongue in a broad stroke across the tip of his cock, tasting him in your mouth. His eye immediately snapped open, “Don’t-“ He groaned.
“Sorry I-, I thought it would feel good like it did for me when you…” You trailed off searching his face. He panted, bringing your face to his. He placed his hand over yours and continued pumping his cock indicating for you to continue. He rested your forehead against his and inhaled deeply.
“It does feel good, great even, much too good.” You watched him confused, if it felt so good, why couldn’t you do it? “The difference between you and I, men and women, you may finish as many times as you please.” His voice travelled over you like honey, his free hand sliding down your stomach and rubbed his two middle fingers over your clit. “I may only once, for now, and I intend to do it in your sweet pussy.” His fingers ran small circles over your clit causing a flurry of moans to leave your lips. Your hand continued to run up and down the length of his cock, but it was hard to think straight when Aemond touched you.
“Can I feel your cock inside of me too?” Your question was genuine, if not laden with lust. It was all Aemond needed to hear before his hand reached your hip pushing you onto your back. He kissed you, hungrier than ever, barely giving you chance to keep up.
“Mirros syt ao.” (Anything for you.) He said in between kisses. He spread your legs apart, eyeing your soaking cunt, and stroked himself a couple of times before leaning over you, elbow resting beside your head. You felt as he ran his cock up and down from your clit to your core, a low groan leaving his lips. “Remember to breathe deeply, Dōna.” (Sweet). You nodded, unsure of what to expect. Aemond’s weight shifted, and you gasped as his cock slowly slid into you. Your brows furrowed as the slight discomfort slid away and was replaced with a new pleasure. His cock bottomed out, and you reached your hand to his cheek, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. He slowly started thrusting, the pace was painfully slow, but he was determined to make you feel good. As his pace picked up, his cock continuously hit a spot in your pussy that his fingers did not, causing a rather loud moan to escape your lips. “Mazemā ziry sīr sȳrī.” (You take it so well.) His praise caused a familiar tightening to start to form in your stomach.
“I love the way you feel.” Your moans filled his ears, fuelling him to go faster. His hand free hand snaked between your bodies and found your clit once more. His thrusts pounded into you, as his fingers diligently worked at your sensitive clit. The headboard begun to crack against the wall with each movement, not that either of you noticed. The quiet but delicious moans that left Aemond’s mouth were enough to ride towards your peak, the coil in your stomach tightening as you gripped your nails into his back. “Fuck! Aemond!” You exclaimed. His large cock filling you up and his fingers playing with your clit caused your orgasm to wash over you, feeling yourself tighten around his cock. His thrusts became quick and erratic as you rode out your high and his groans growing louder and more animalistic as he finished inside of you.
He panted, dropping to his elbow, and planting a small kiss upon your cheek, before pulling out of you slowly. You groaned at the loss of the fullness, missing the feeling of him already. Aemond lay beside you, pulling you by your hips to have your back against his chest. As both of your breathing slowly returned to normal you felt a small shiver run across your body, now aware of the breeze through the window. Aemond’s hand came up and ran up and down the length of your arm and pulled you close. “Is it possible to remain here all day.” You sighed, cuddling the blankets in front of you.
Aemond chuckled, “It is not our name day.” He planted a small kiss upon your shoulder. “But I do think people may notice both of our absences.” He spoke softly, with a small amount of his serious tone peeking through. You groaned, liking the feeling of being in Aemond’s arm, in his bed.
“Aemond?” You questioned, turning slightly to face him. He hummed a ‘hmm?’ in response, opening his eye. “Kessa gaomā bona run lēda aōha ēngos arlī gō īlon return naejot se rūklun?” (Will you do that thing with your tongue again before we return to the party?). A playful smirk returned to his face as he shifted above you on the bed.
“Va moriot” (Always).
#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#aemond smut#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x reader#aemond targaryen x reader smut#hotd fanfic#aemond argaryen x y/n smut#aemond imagine#game of thrones#game of thrones smut#asoif#asoif/got#fanfic#smut#aemond fluff#fluff#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond fanfic#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#fluff smut#aemond targaryen x reader
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First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore
The things you do to make your girlfriend.
“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”
You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.
Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.
It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.
Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?
Hah.
Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.
Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.
She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?
You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.
But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.
There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.
The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.
Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.
Was there something on your face???
“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”
She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.
It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.
Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.
A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.
Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.
So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.
You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”
There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.
Oh no.
You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?
This was just how it was.
Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.
Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.
“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”
Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.
“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”
A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.
“Sure. He’s all yours.”
But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”
“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??
“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”
“….yes…”
His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”
So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.
“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.
You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.
A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?
You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.
Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”
“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.
“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”
You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.
“(Name), what’s your safe word?”
You blinked, “what’s that?”
There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.
“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”
“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”
“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”
“Oh… would green be for keep going?”
Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”
You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?
“Starting now.”
You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.
Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.
Smack!
Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…
He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”
Oh right. Counting…
“O..One.”
It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.
Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.
“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.
“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.
Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”
“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!
Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”
“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”
“But—”
“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”
It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.
“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.
Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.
You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.
It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.
“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.
This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.
His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??
“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”
Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.
He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.
“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.”
“What?”
“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.
Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.
The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.
You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.
No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.
That was a first.
You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.
He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”
“Y..Yeah..”
“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.
First and only? What?!
“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.
“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.
Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”
“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.
If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…
Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.
You wanted it so bad.
You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”
“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.
His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.
“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.
You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”
“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”
“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”
Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.
Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.
“(Name)…”
You let out a strangled hum.
“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”
Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.
@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi
#bottom male reader#x male reader#uke male reader#sub male reader#male reader#mlm ns/fw#smut drabble#mlm nsft#x male smut#male bottom reader
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A Doe in Fall (part 6)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦
Part 2 - Liar smut💦
Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦
Part 4 - Enough
Part 5 - Too Much
Part 6 - Learning smut💦
Part 6 Learning
Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」
The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭
Minors DNI 🦌 🚘
You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight.
Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.
“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.
No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.
“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.
“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you.
As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.
“Not terribly, no.”
When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.
Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down.
His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”
He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.
That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return.
You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.
Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you.
“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”
His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.
“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning. An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.
“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”
A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”
You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him.
Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business.
“I missed you.” You cooed.
Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?
Oh that’s right. You’d said something.
“Hmm?”
You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.
For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell.
You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.
“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”
His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.
Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing.
Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.
“Alastor.”
His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”
“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”
Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”
Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”
A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”
You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.
It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.
Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.
A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral.
You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.
When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.
“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.
One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.
You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.
Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.
He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes.
“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.
A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.
“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”
What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.
“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.
You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.
Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.
You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.
He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.
“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.
“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.
Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.
A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.
Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.
How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him.
A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”
You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”
A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.”
You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”
Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.
Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat. He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.
You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.
Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.
No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.
Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours.
Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn��t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.
He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.
You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm.
Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.
You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you.
How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.
A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.
“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.
You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly.
When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.
Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.
As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.
He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before. Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.
“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.
“I feel good anytime I’m near you.”
The right answer.
His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”
With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.
Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”
You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”
A nervous smile spread on his face.
“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”
“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.
“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.
“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”
“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”
He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”
Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”
“Why would it?”
You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”
It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.
When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.
And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.
But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.
He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.
“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”
You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.
You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”
Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.
You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.
When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.
Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.
“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”
“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?”
He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.
“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”
Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight.
“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”
Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry.
“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”
“Exactly.”
“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”
His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”
“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”
A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered.
Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one.
“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.
Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”
Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.
“I want to provide for all your needs.”
A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.
You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?
“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”
“I’m not joking.”
The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.
“Look at me.”
Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.
He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.
A deer in the headlights.
He wasn’t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.
“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”
“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”
Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”
You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.
“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”
He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”
“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”
He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”
“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”
Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”
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∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
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, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl , (50)
#human alastor x reader#alastor x reader#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#alastor#hazbin alastor#fanfiction#alastor x you#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel
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iridescent engravings!
in which — during the annual ball that was held with the sole purpose of finding a suitable candidate to be sunday’s future spouse, you (reluctantly) attended with no intention of winning his heart yet you were the only one he laid his eyes on the whole night.
pairing — sunday x gn!reader
༊*·˚✧.* — wc: 1k, unestablished relationship, love at first sight is real guys, idk why this took so long for me to write but it's finally here!!! likes and reblogs r appreciated, please enjoy <3
elegant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling; with a hesitant sigh, you stepped on the polished marble floors, making your way into the ballroom. having received an invitation from the family around a week ago, and though you had initially baulked at the invitation, the prospect of declining without causing offense had left you with little choice but to attend.
it's just for a few hours, right… i'll be fine.
the sounds of violins accompanied by pianos filled the air as guests engaged in light conversations with each other. there was an obvious crowd surrounding the main star of the night. sunday was dressed in a refined and elegant suit, exuding effortless grace that seemed to radiate from every movement. you glanced at him, poor guy you think, he's surrounded by endless hordes of guests trying to make a good impression, seemingly never getting a moment to himself, he barely even has space to breathe!
you were too busy staring and you almost dropped your glass of wine as he happened to look over and lock eyes with you.
those mesmerizing eyes of his.
you quickly regained your composure and took a sip of your wine, silently praying that the night would end quicker. yet throughout the whole night, you couldn't help but feel eyes boring into your back, it felt like someone was watching you, but when you looked around, everyone was minding their own business. perhaps you’re just getting self-conscious here.
you kept to yourself mostly, except for a few occasions where some of your acquaintances had come up to you, you guys chatted for a bit and they left as quickly as they came. but still, you can't shake off that ominous feeling, it felt unsettling.
as the night wore on, you walked through the crowd, twirling the wine glass in your hands, the liquid swaying around, threatening to spill out. scanning the area, you spotted sunday across the room, seemed like this time you caught him staring instead. though neither of you broke eye contact, the weight of sunday's gaze bore down on you as you navigated through the crowd, the silent exchange of glances speaking volumes without a single word being uttered.
he thinks you’re lovely, truly. the most gorgeous one he ever laid his eyes on, and frankly, he ever will. he never wants to take his eyes off of you, not even for a moment.
despite the distance between you, the intensity of his stare drew you in like a magnet. the tension in the air seemed to thicken, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach, his eyes pierced through the air and stayed firmly locked onto yours.
with each step he took, the distance between you shrunk, until finally, he stood before you, his sole presence left you breathless. (he is the most handsome man in penacony after all) his voice, smooth and angelic, broke through the silence as he greeted you with a charming smile, his words washed over you like a gentle breeze on a warm summer's night.
you tried your best to maintain your composure, subconsciously smoothing out your attire, you could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks. you could particularly smell the jealousy from the people around you. but none of that mattered. you allowed yourself to be swept away by sunday’s hypnotising eyes and alluring words.
“may i?”, he extends his hand, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. before you could fully comprehend the implications, your instinctive response slips past your lips.
"of course," the words escaping before your brain could catch up with your heart. you place your hand in his. with a gentle squeeze of your hand, you think he's going to lead you to the dance floor, what you didn't expect was for him to deftly slide a ring onto your index finger. a gasp escapes your lips and many others too. the delicate ring adorns your finger, it seems like it was made just for you, fitting perfectly.
the soft strains of music enveloping you like a warm embrace as he gently leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss onto your fingers. around you, the murmurs of the other guests fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time, lost in the moment.
“mr sunday, a moment please… it's urgent!”, the interruption jolts you back to reality, sunday's gaze flickers briefly in the direction of the voice, the servant shrinks in fear as he gives you an apologetic smile. prominent annoyance crossing sunday’s features before he turns his attention back to you, his expression softening once more.
"stay here, wait for me." he whispers, his voice tingling with regret as he reluctantly releases your hand. with one last glance, he stepped away, leaving you standing alone amidst the murmurs of the other guests, the sensation of his touch still raw on your skin.
you touch the ring on your finger, feeling your heart thump loudly. this wasn't how you had envisioned the night unfolding—your intention had never been to win his heart, yet somehow, he had given it to you anyway.
sunday wasn’t paying attention to whatever the servant was saying, his focus was solely fixed on you, admiring you, captivated by how adorable you looked as you inspected the ring with faint blush painting your cheeks. sunday's eyes trace the curve of your lips, with you standing there amidst the grandeur of the ballroom, he thinks you look far more majestic than any shall ever compare.
a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his chest swelling with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. an infatuation that seems to grow stronger with each passing heartbeat. and the ring, a promise of something more to come, you just need to wait for him.
masterlist
#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai starrail x reader#star rail x reader#hsr x you#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr fanfic#hsr fluff#honkai star rail x you#hsr imagines#sunday hsr#sunday x you#sunday fanfic#sunday honkai star rail
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AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.
AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike
Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs
It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing
-pera
"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . .
dress for the slide
✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .
A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile.
The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such.
Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.
It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)
And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:
a goddamn motorcycle.
Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you.
And, well.
It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.
“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour.
You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”
You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up).
“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”
He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.
You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale.
Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.
You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises.
You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you.
“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.”
(It’s fun, to be immature like this.)
He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover.
Everybody will know he's yours.)
“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”
“A horny teenager.”
He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”
“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand.
He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.)
It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)
“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal.
Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say.
“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.
“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike.
“You’ll always be reminded of this.”
You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.”
“Good?” You tip your head to the side.
Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.”
And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth.
“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.”
“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?”
“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)
“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.
“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing.
He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”
Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.”
Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery.
It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn.
“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers.
“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls.
Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)
No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”
Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick.
“Ready?”
He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.”
You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.
“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him.
A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)
Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.”
With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust.
Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.”
“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons.
“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs.
He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.
But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear.
“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.”
“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”
“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”
No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.
While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”
“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected.
“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”
He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.
Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.
“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”
“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.”
Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep.
“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll.
But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile.
“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?”
He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.”
“I did.”
“Get to it then.”
You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”
Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum.
i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (；′⌒`)
#ㅤ✦【 INBOX 】#ㅤ【 pera 】#i love adding in subtle stutters whenever the sub gets a bit too confident<3#reminds 'em that they're not all that (~￣³￣)~#male reader#x male reader#top reader#sub wriothesley#wriothesley smut#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#anddddd#sub genshin#genshin smut#genshin thirsts#since the og ask was just a thirst tbh . .#genshin x reader#genshin x you#trans nsft#also no. he did not give birth to sigewinne. she was adopted#!! the br//ding stops at the k/nk . .
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Imagine a meet cute with Jason Todd and you meet through a book review website chat. You start chatting over your shared love for romance novels. You give each other recommendations, opinions on newest books or trash talk a book you both hated. After a while you become good friends, knowing each other in and out in ways no one else in your life does. He doesn't go a day without talking to you online and his replies always brighten your day. You are so close and yet you never saw each others face. You're nervous about who's on the other side of the chatroom, he's struggling to trust someone online with his civil identity.
Finally you bite the bullet and agree to meet. Somewhere public like mall or park. You finally get there and you're already nervous. Stepping from one foot to the other and looking in all directions to spot him. He said he'll be wearing a red hoodie but several men in red hoodies walked by without giving you a glance. Finally, someone clears their throat behind you and when you turn around your jaw almost hits the floor. Because there's no way that's him.
You have to crane your neck to look him in the face, taking a step back nervously. That's not austenlover16/8 that's a life sized GI Joy action figure. This man blocks out the sun. The width of his shoulders takes your entire field of view. You don't want to judge but if you met this guy in a dark alleway you'd probably pass out. He lifts on arm to scratch the back of his neck, the muscles on bicep bulging in way that makes your throat dry. He gives you his best effort at smile.
"So...it's you huh?"
tags: @thinkingofausername
#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#red hood x reader#jason todd drabble
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#cw child abuse#referenced but does not take place in the fic#cw panic attack#even if it doesn't look like one at first#soft ending though as always I promise
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Winter's King 11
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: friday, my day, am i right?
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there?
“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.”
“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.”
You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you.
“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate.
You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.”
“You are not in Debray now,” he muses.
You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him.
“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance.
“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.”
“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--”
“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.”
You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.”
You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone.
“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.”
You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment.
“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...”
“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?”
You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath.
“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.”
“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating.
He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain.
“We may begin simple,” he intones.
So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response.
“You have a question?” He prompts.
“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines.
“I can tell,” he says brightly.
You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks.
“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles.
He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait.
“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.”
“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter.
“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides.
“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.”
He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.”
You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do?
⚔️
“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.”
“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.
“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.”
You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair.
“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--”
“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.”
“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.”
“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.”
You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?”
You twist around to look at the door, then to him.
“I will go wherever you command, your highness.”
“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?”
There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you.
“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.”
He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.”
“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?”
Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away.
“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you.
He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh.
“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.”
You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.”
He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed.
“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.”
You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away.
“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table.
Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales.
He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow.
“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.”
You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall.
Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife.
He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts.
He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool.
He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream.
“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.”
You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months.
“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.”
He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side.
“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.”
You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there.
He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs.
Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand.
“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you.
“A game, your highness?” You babble.
He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.”
Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king.
“Your highness,” you utter.
“It’s my command,” he says, “run.”
#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia x reader#dark geralt#dark!geralt#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#winter's king#the witcher
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Do you ever plan on continuing the Adoptive Son Au?
This wasn't just a mission anymore.
Dick lays perfectly still, staring up at Crowne's bedroom ceiling. Besides him, Crowne is found asleep, and his soft puffs of breath are the only sound to be heard in the room. As always, the other man is curled up facing the wall, one fist under his cheek and the other clutched to the warm set of blankets.
It's something Dick noticed the first night he slept over.
Awake Crowene took up so much space with his commanding aura, steadily leading his team into the future like a king upon a throne—as if he were larger than life.
Asleep, Crowne seemed to grow smaller, a shocking reminder that for all he's accomplished, he too was only eighteen like Dick.
His face softened, and the invisible weight that seemed to be resting on Crowne's shoulders vanished once he slumbered. It surprised Dick, the first time he watched him sleep, to see how gentle the man could be. How innocent he appeared.
It was a reminder of how inexperienced Crowne was regarding relationships.
The mission had gone on longer than he'd ever planned it to. Dick was worried about how far he was going to go with the honey pot aspect, even with his suggestive comments and more daring flirtations. None of his other missions have gotten so far, always stopping at a few cuddles and kisses.
Thankfully, Crowne hesitated to go further. He had agreed to the hotel room, leaving Drake with Nancy for the night, and as Dick was desperately trying to think of an escape as they climbed up to the room, Crowne had grown more and more angsty.
They had kissed against the door and stumbled their way to the bed with heated breaths and whispered moans, but when they actually landed on the hotel bed, Crowne had sprung away. He had burst into tears, shamefully admitting he wasn't ready.
Dick had been so grateful for the out as he gathered Crowne into his arms and promised to wait till the time was right. He would wait until the CEO was ready, wiping away tears and kissing his cheeks dry.
He gave himself more time by admitting he also didn't feel comfortable moving forward yet, and Crowne looked at him with such tenderness Dick forgot about the mission for only a minute.
Instead, the two somehow ended up chatting the night away, lying side by side, whispering to each other against the pillows. None of what they spoke about was useful for the mission, and yet he found himself holding the little facts about Crowne close to his heart anyway.
He learned about Crowne's insecurities, some of the bullying he endured as a kid, the loving parents he missed, and the sister he lost. He even spoke about his fear of failing Drake or the rest of the people at his company who depended on him, how sometimes that fear of failure would creep in and freeze him in place.
In turn, Dick found himself talking of the circus, whispering what he missed and what life was like before his parent's death.
He shared his role as team leader—though not what the team was—and how sometimes he felt like he was still attempting to find his place in everyone's lives. Shockingly, he even admitted that he feared Bruce would never see him as soon, hiding his tears in Crowne's neck as he pushed out the words.
He never opened up to anyone like that, which terrified him of how far he may have lost himself within the lie.
They fell asleep together that night, curling around each other fully clothed, and it was far more intimate than anything he had ever done with anyone else.
The following day Dick had been able to spot love in Crowne's eyes whenever he looked at him. It made him sick. He tried to not make too much eye contact following this, for they had yet to find the missing children, and he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the devotion of a man he was playing for information.
Now, four months after they agreed to go slow, he slept on the right side of Crowne's bed, which had become his side, watching the snow gently fall outside the window of the new house Crowne had purchased. The mission had far surpassed the expected wait time, as Christmas was quickly approaching, and Crowne had made comments of spending it at Wayne mannor.
He had seen a shopping list with Bruce, Jason, Damian, and even Alfred's names on Crowne's desk, and a couple of gift ideas were written next to them. Because he knew that to Dick, they were his family, and he wanted to make a good impression on them.
The mission had begun in spring, but Dick couldn't find a way to untangle himself from Crowne. He had been heavily involved in the gym Crowne was setting up with Drake, seeing that he adored possibly being a gymnastics teacher more than he ever planned.
Bruce occasionally commented that he shouldn't let himself be swept away by the lie.
He knew the truth.
This domestic bliss he was spending with Crowne was an illusion. It was bound to burst the day they found what they were looking for, but by the gods, Dick honestly thought they were wrong.
They had to be.
Crowne's mysterious rise to power, extortionary science, brilliant business mind, and unexplained funds all pointed to darker, evil intentions.
But Danny? The man's eyes soften by children's laughter. He made silly puns when he wanted to cheer up Dick. He curled around Dick, holding him through nightmares and never asking what they were about.
Danny stepped up for Tim Drake and gave him a home when all signs clearly pointed to the Drakes neglecting their son. Danny was the one who anonymously paid off medical debt, asking nothing in return, not even acknowledgment. Danny was the one who could name all the stars in the sky, yet looked sad when staring upwards.
Danny was the one Dick was in love with, but Danny was also Crowne, and the Bats were gunning to lock him up for the rest of his life.
It tore him to pieces, but Dick pushed himself out of the warm bed. He patted his way to the boxes that still needed to be unpacked. He was the one to convince Danny to buy a house outside the city, knowing the man wouldn't bother to pack appropriately.
This meant he would likely carelessly throw evidence into random boxes—the evidence he needed to finally put him away.
He looked over his shoulder to ensure the other was still sleeping before going through the items. He went through the first five without finding anything, angry at himself for feeling relief until he came across the last box.
Inside were notebooks.
Some date back to the first year Danny was adopted by the Crownes. There were systematic experiments and notes on the portal making, but the worst of all were the files.
Files of the street kids he had moved. With each page turned, Dick found profiles of the kids, where they were found, what they were going through, how they were taken, and where they were placed. There were even several phone numbers of social workers who helped him move the kids about.
A leger of the trafficking ring. All were written in Danny's handwriting. It was a lie, Dick knew, but it was still devastating to realize how evil the darkness within Crowne indeed was.
The very last thing in the box was an engraved ring with Richard Grason on the inside, sitting inside an elegant ring box.
Dick felt sick as he reached up to his earpiece pressing it three times. Bruce picked up with a soft greeting that quickly turned to worry when Dicked choked out through his tears.
"We got him."
#dcxdpdabbles#the adoptive son#Part 5#Angst#Dick and Danny were falling in love#They spent almost a full year togther#Danny wasn't going to propose until a year latter but he saw Dick as his forever#Now the Bats got what they wanted
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man laios and toshiro's/shuro's dynamic is incredibly compelling to me on multiple levels
when you look at them, you can see the cultural and personal barriers that drive almost every single aspect of their relationship, both positively and negatively. laios is incredibly outspoken and driven by his passions, which he expresses freely even in the face of annoyance and/or criticism- he's allowed to be as authentically himself as he pleases, and it's this drive that allows him and the others to survive as long as they have, especially due to the fact that these passions and interests are intertwined with his skills as a dungeon diver. toshiro, in contrast, is incredibly reserved, not only due to his eastern upbringing but also his status as nobility- a combo of cultures that both demand that one save face, to avoid conflict at any cost, even at the expense of one's own feelings and individuality. this, in turn, has made toshiro the perfect samurai, as he's politely-spoken, agreeable, and an honorable, skilled man. both are also incredibly devoted to falin on different levels, having come to accomplish the same mission of her rescue despite drifting apart from the party.
on the flipside, it's these same strengths that cause them to clash- laios is outspoken but unable to truly decipher the emotions of others, leading to a lot of false assumptions and frustration from those who interact with him. toshiro is stoic but to the point of complacency, leading to a aggressively neutral disposition that's ushered by the needs and wants of others, rather than himself. neither man truly knows where they stand with the people important to them in their lives, and hold the ones that they do know how they feel with a fierce admiration expressed in ways that aren't always traditional.
in the end, they both share a growing feeling of isolation from other people that comes to a head when they meet again in the depths of the dungeon, and they both have different ways of coping with the frustrations that arise, seeing the other as only the things they have seen face to face.
it's laios' ability to express himself emotionally without consequence that sparks jealousy in toshiro, leading to a physical fight born out of miscommunication and envy. while toshiro is a driving force in the conflict, it should be noted that the actual fight is started by laios, breaking the dam of indirect communication through force. nothing is more direct than a slap to the face, and it's only after they start hitting each other that toshiro's true feelings come to light.
however, at the end of it all, toshiro is the one who stops torturing himself, listening to laios and giving him the bell, allowing laios and his party entrance into his homeland should they need it, and ultimately giving him support in his mission to defeat the dungeon mage, albeit in his own way. despite it all, they're still good friends with a conflict that boiled over, but came out the other end with a slightly better understanding of each other. the fight was painful for both of them, but it was a necessity for their dynamic to improve, and for them to be made aware of their faults and improve as individuals as well.
but also, if you think about it, their dynamic is literally just this
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#laios dungeon meshi#toshiro nakamoto#shuro#shuro dungeon meshi#character analysis#anyways toshiro haters with surface level takes get the hell off my lawn boy#i hope you know this entire character analysis was born out of the realization that i'd seen this dynamic before in a different light#and i thought. man. what is the funniest comparison i could make here rn. and i'm still right abt it btw#oh yeah also of course the autism read is still there#as an autistic person myself they don't read at all like neurotypical v autism. they read a LOT more like autism v autism#you know how people with autism either get along REALLY well with other people with autism or repel each other with a force#yeah they're basically that. to me#reading toshiro as autistic with the immigrant lens btw makes him even more compelling to read that way#but that is an analysis for another time#man i missed writing these#dungeon meshi spoilers
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╾━╤デ╦︻ TO THE MOON AND BACK
wriothesley 〥 afab reader ₊ 𓂃 mdni. size kink, service dom wrio, fluff, dacryphilia, praise ⸻ ❪ 393 wc ❫
size kink with wriothesley goes absolutely fucking insane !!
you don't even need to have a specific body type, that man will just make it his dead set mission to manhandle you and fuck you in every position possible.
he's just so proportionally bigger compared to you that feeling tiny under him when he fucks his cock deep into your cunt, comes naturally without warning. but i only think this in a way where he's talking you through it―very, very obverse to how rough he's playing with your insides, he will never degrade you. even if you asked him to.
it just doesn't turn him on.
he doesn't like seeing you cry either, but when its because of the pleasure he's giving you in bed? oh boy, does it do things to him. he can't quite describe it, but when you get cock drunk and a little bit ditzy, it boosts his ego.
he'll always ask if you're comfortable in the set position, or if anything is hurting, down there. his words are as gentle as a lamb, and when it comes to you, he's extremely sexually reserved. he won't touch you inappropriately out in public, make sex jokes around your friends, or even go ahead without any type of consent.
but when you give him that signal where everything is okay and you are comfortable, be prepared not to walk for, generousslly, for maybe a week.
it can sometimes be a struggle keeping up with him during sex, though. i wouldn't necessarily say that his libido is high, per se, because majority of the time his work keeps him occupied when he's not around you. but when he fucks, he likes to fuck hard.
there are also a sprinkle of moments too where he wants to press his forehead to yours, hands intertwined as you ride him slowly, praising you and telling you how good you look, that you're making him feel amazing―he likes to savor these moments for after dates or when he misses you a bit more than usual.
you can tell he's smitten for you, and he gives you all the right reasons to believe it. you don't question where you stand in your relationship with him, despite if the two of you had been away from each other for weeks.
it would probably just end in him breeding you...
#wriothesley smut#genshin smut#wriothesley x reader#genshin x reader#wriothesley#genshin impact#nereids' realm
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝟐𝟒
pairing: dark!rafe x fem!pogue!reader
summary: ❝there’s only 24 hours in a day, and half of those you lay awake with thoughts of murder and carnage.❞ — when you accidentally witness rafe commit a murder, he’s willing to do everything he has to do in order to make sure there’s no loose ends. even if that means tracking you down and killing you himself.
warnings: predator/prey dynamic, murder, descriptions of violence and blood, time skips (just hours apart), choking (not the good kind), rafe quite literally tries to kill you, it kinda gives stockholm syndrome ngl
word count: 3.1k
a/n: series masterlist
hour one - 9:00 PM
“i can’t believe you talked me into taking this short cut to the boneyard, this is creepy as fuck.” you shivered, regretting your shoe choice as the gravel crunched underneath your sandals. “you’ll be here in no time, i swear! did you pass that abandoned house on the left already?” you froze, glancing back at the isolated dirt path. “girl- i haven’t seen anything since i turned this way like fifteen minutes back.” your friend gasped on the other end of the line. “where the hell are you then?!” lizzie yelled, attempting to shout over the music in the background.
“you tell me!” you cursed under your breath when you got a low battery notification. “look, my phone is about to die, i’ll try to call when i get closer.” you hung up, spotting a clear field to cut through. up in the distance you could see what looked like headlights. “thank god.” you sighed, making your way over in hopes of getting a ride out of here. as you got closer, you started rethinking your decision when two men came into your view, one pushing the other onto the ground. “what the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, your heart dropping as the man that was standing up pulled out a gun.
“please don’t do this! i’ll never steal from you again, man. i swear!” you were stuck, your feet not moving no matter how hard you tried. “you didn’t just steal from me, you stole from my family.” the cock of the gun was loud enough for your heart to beat wildly in your chest. “please, i’m begging you!” terror flooded through your system when the man on his knees glanced up, pointing a finger at you before the sound of a chamber being emptied pierced through the chilly night air. you jumped, covering your ears as they rung. the man fell with a thud, the realization of what you’ve just seen made your breath catch in your throat.
“hey!” the guy with the gun started running towards you, sending a shock of fear down your spine as you stumbled back. you whimpered when the palms of your hands landed on the bed of grass below you, the man’s footsteps only getting closer with each second you stayed on the ground. finally, when he was close enough for you to make out his face, you bolted in the opposite direction, a scream leaving your lips when he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you against his front as he breathed against your skin. “you shouldn’t have seen that.” he traced your arm with the cold metal of his gun. “please, i won’t tell anyone, i was just trying to get to a party when i saw your truck. i thought you could help me out.” you whimpered.
“thought i could help you out?” he repeated, turning you around in his grip, “you’ve seen my truck, and now you’ve seen my face. i don’t want to do this but your pretty little self was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” tears welled in your eyes as he held the gun up to your head. “i won’t go to the cops, i promise!” you cried, hands wrapping around his wrist. “i’ll forget all of this even happened.” truth be told, he really didn’t want to kill you. the second you saw his eyes soften, you knee’d him in the groin, pushing him in the chest as you took the gun from his hand. “sorry, not sorry!” you shouted, running as fast as you can while he groaned in pain. “you stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled, punching the ground in frustration.
you put the gun on safety mode, throwing it in your purse as you ran and didn’t stop until you reached what looked like the beach. sure enough as you got closer, you could hear the cheer of nearby partygoers. you sighed in relief, making your way to the center where lizzie and jj were sitting down at. “oh my god, are you alright?!” your best friend wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug while jj examined you closely. “dude, you look like you just climbed out of the woods or something.” you rolled your eyes at his words. “thanks, jayj.” you sat down, contemplating if whether or not you should tell lizzie what happened.
“i texted you like fifteen minutes ago to check on you!” she hit your arm playfully. your phone. you quickly patted yourself down, subtly looking through your small purse for the device, only to realize that you might’ve dropped it during the whole ‘escape from the killer!’ fiasco. “oh, fuck.” you whispered to yourself, lizzie and jj already back in their own little love bubble. meanwhile just on the other side of the island, rafe was seated in his truck, still sore from you kicking him in his manhood. he didn’t dwell on it too much, everything he needed to physically get ahold of you currently sat in the palm of his hand.
not only did rafe have your phone, but when he took off your phone case just to see your state id wrapped in a twenty dollar bill, he also had your full name along with your address.
hour ten - 7:00 AM
you barely slept a wink last night. after you got home from the party, you showered with the bathroom door open, way too paranoid to go over five minutes without looking out the window. you glanced at your purse, still not being able to bring yourself to open it. the flash backs of the man’s lifeless body falling to the ground was enough to keep you up. now, with the morning sun flooding through your bedroom, you knew had to get up at some point and get yourself together. “fuck.” you rubbed your eyes, quickly brushing your teeth before making your way to the small kitchen. washing some dishes from the day before, you stared out the window as you got lost in your thoughts.
he doesn’t know my name, how could he even find me? what if he found my phone with my id in it? eh, he’s probably too busy burying a body to worry about me.
“ouch!” you hissed, looking down to see that you accidentally cut yourself with one of the kitchen knives. “snap out of it.” you sighed to yourself, sucking on your finger as you looked through one of the drawers for a band aid. just as you spotted one, your heart stopped when you heard the familiar crunch of gravel in the driveway. your worst nightmare coming true when you saw the same black truck from last night parked outside. “no, no, no, no, no,” you ran to the front door, where you were met with a loud bang. “open up, y/n.” you paced around nervously, having no phone to call anyone for help. “leave me alone! i didn’t go to the police last night, and i won’t go to them ever, okay? please leave.”
“i can’t do that. you have something of mine, and i want it back.” you shuddered at the sound of his voice. “if you give me my gun, you’ll get your phone back. easy trade off.” that explains why he knew your name and where you lived. “you have my phone?” you wiped your eyes, walking closer to the trailer door. “i sure do, babe.” you debated with yourself, your breath quickening with each second you stayed silent. “will you leave me alone after this?” you unlocked the small latch, your heart beating in your ears as you opened the door, revealing the, rather beautiful, psycho that tried to kill you yesterday. “i’ll leave you alone. promise.” his eyes danced over your body. you were just in a tank top and underwear.
“i’ll be right back.” you took a deep breath, grabbing the gun out of your purse before returning back to him. when you opened the door once more, he was no where to be seen. “you make this too easy for me.” he clamped a hand over your mouth as he dragged you out of the living room and into your bedroom where he shoved you into the wall. you had no idea where the gun was pointing to, but you still pulled the trigger in a last minute effort to defend yourself. both of you jumped back, a bullet hole now adorning a spot next to your bed frame. you held the gun up, your hand shaking as you aimed at his head. “where’s my phone?” all the fear in your body was now replaced by anger. he held his hands up in defense, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“here,” he took the device out of his pocket, tossing it on your bed. “if i was going to rat you out i would’ve done it already,” you started, “this gun has my prints all over it, too. if i went to the cops with this i’d look just as guilty.” you watched as his face fell in realization. “i don’t even know your name.” you emptied the clip of the gun, the bullets falling to the floor with a clink. “rafe.” was all he said as you pushed the gun into his chest. “listen, rafe, i’m not a runner, i don’t run from anyone. you, however, killed somebody and i happened to witness it. that’s all. you got what you wanted now, so leave.” you grabbed your phone, walking past him to the kitchen.
“i believe you, but i can’t trust you. ‘not when i have too much to lose.” he followed you, unaware of the knife you had in your grip. “so make a move.” you turned around. rafe glanced at the knife in your hand, a smirk forming on his lips. “i’m into knifeplay, don’t threaten me with a good time.” he charged at you, knocking the weapon out of your grasp. before you could react, he wrapped a hand around your throat, lifting you up onto the counter as he started choking you out. your eyes widened while you frantically reached to the side for anything to hit him with. just as your vision started getting hazy, you felt the cast iron of your skillet on the stovetop, swinging it across his head. he fell instantly, his eyes fluttering shut as he his body slumped against the floor.
you rubbed the skin of your neck, tears running down your face as you fought to catch your breath. “oh, shit.” you whimpered, leaning down to check if he had a pulse. still alive, dammit. you leaned against the wall, trying to come up with something fast before he woke up. thirty minutes later, and you had him tied to a chair in the middle of your living room. “this will have to do.” you sighed, sticking a piece of tape over his mouth.
hour eighteen - 3:00 PM
“what the fuck?” rafe’s voice was raspy when he woke up, his eyes widening slightly as he spotted you staring at him from the couch. “what time it is?” he groaned, nearly knocking his chair over at how hard he was thrashing in it. “three o’ clock, which means you’ve been knocked out cold for eight hours.” you blinked. “eight hours?! what the fuck happened?” he looked around. you couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips. “what happened? you started choking me like a crazy person and i hit you with a skillet before you could actually kill me.” you moved closer, showing him the purple marks that now adorned your neck. apart of him hated that he did it, but it was too late to take it back now.
he licked his lips, cringing at the weird taste. “did i have tape on my mouth?” he grimaced. “yes, but you started breathing weird so i took it off.” you walked to the kitchen, rafe’s eyes glued to the way your jeans hugged your ass. “can you untie me?” he sighed when he heard you laugh. “not a chance,” you came back to the living room with a water bottle and a chair. “we’re gonna talk first before i let you go anywhere.” you took a seat in front of him, your knees knocking against his. you opened the water bottle, bringing it up to his lips. “i choked the shit out of you and you wanna give me water?” if he felt like crap before, he felt even worse now. “do you want it or not?” he nodded.
you hated how attractive you found him, the way he was gazing up at you right now made butterflies flutter in your tummy. once he hummed that he had enough, you leaned back in your seat. “before you shot that guy last night you said he stole something from your family. what was it?” rafe sighed, shaking his head. “why should i tell you?” he scoffed. “i’ll answer whatever questions you ask me in return.” you leaned forward, your cleavage making him uncomfortably hard in his cargo shorts. “any question?” you tilted your head. “yes, but answer mine first.” you ignored the smirk that lifted in the corner of his lips. “he stole gold,” rafe cleared his throat, “like a shit ton of it.” he swallowed.
“did you get it back?” you peered up at him through your eyelashes, completely oblivious to the tent in his shorts, or so he thought. “of course i did.” you shivered at the deep baritone of his voice. rafe knew both of you were treading dangerous territory as your looks started lingering a second longer, your fingers tracing his chin everytime he asked for more water. “what does one do with that much gold? when they’re already rich, i mean.” you licked your lips, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. “get more richer.” he shrugged. “my turn.” rafe cleared his throat.
“you can’t go to the cops, and you can’t leave me tied here forever. what are you gonna do?” you sighed, spending the last eight hours asking yourself the same thing. “i don’t know, rafe. if i let you go, you might try to kill me again.” he watched you carefully, guilt settling in his gut. “i won’t do anything, i swear i’ll-” you cut him off, “you said that last time.” rafe’s eyes flickered down to your neck, his jaw clenching. “nah, you have my word.” even though he looked sincere, you knew better than to give in right away. “no.” you got up, grabbing your purse as you made your way to the front door. “woah, where are you going?” rafe started pulling at the restraints, shouting after you as you walked out your trailer.
hour twenty three - 8:00 PM
the last thing you expected to see when you got home was rafe lying on his side, staring at nothing as you rushed over to help him up. “what the hell?” you grunted, pulling the chair up. “i tried to get out of this.” he looked completely defeated as you pulled your hair out of your face. “yeah, i can see that,” you placed the bag of food you had on the kitchen table, returning with a pair of scissors. “y/n, it’s been well over a day since my last meal, just let me go i swear i’ll be out of your hair.” he swallowed dryly. kneeling down on the floor, you started cutting the ropes from the chair, mumbling a ‘don’t make me regret this.’
rafe stared wide eyed as you set him free, immediately backing away from him as he rolled his shoulders back. “your keys are on the small table by the front door.” you were practically trembling with fear when he loomed over you. with a gentle hand, he softly traced your face, his fingers trailing down your neck to touch the bruises there. “i’m sorry.” rafe whispered. not knowing how to respond, you simply blinked with a small nod. “i got you something to eat in the kitchen,” you motioned towards the white paper bag with a burger and fries in it. rafe looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were real.
“you bought me food?” you relaxed when he stepped away, his hands on his head as he slowly paced back and forth. “yes..” your voice came out small. rafe was quiet for a minute before he looked at you with a look that sent shivers down your spine, except this time it wasn’t out of terror. “do you want to play a game, y/n?” he eyed your frame, loving the way your tits looked in that pretty tube top of yours. “i’m kind of tired of games, don’t you think we’ve played cat and mouse long enough?” you smiled softly when he laughed. “while you do have a point, this is a game that you win regardless.” rafe watched as you let your hair down from it’s claw clip, “why not?”
“i’m sure you’re familiar with hide and seek?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “of course i’m familiar, but why that one?” you questioned. “well here’s the thing; i’m gonna count to sixty and give you one minute to hide. if i don’t find you in two minutes, you’ll never have to worry about me showing up at your doorstep again, but if i do find you.. i fuck you.” you were immediately taken aback, your heart pounding in your ears as he got close to you once again. any normal person would immediately reject, not even giving it a second thought before declining, but a large part of you was thrilled at the idea of being hunted down. only when your life didn’t actually depend on it, of course.
you looked up at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as a nervous habit. “okay.” rafe smiled devilishly. “run.” his eyes were dark when the word left his mouth. “w-what?” you stuttered, panic coursing through your veins. “i said fucking run.” he said through gritted teeth, your feet moving as he started counting down. you ran into the bedroom, cursing under your breath as you look around for a concealed hiding spot. you lived in a trailer for god’s sake, you had limited space. choosing your best bet, you squeezed into your closet, bringing your knees up to your chest as the words ‘ready or not, here i come!’ echoed in your ears.
you could hear shuffling in the bathroom and the kitchen, your eyes screwing shut as his foot steps got closer to your room. rafe was already a minute down. just as you thought he was going to walk away, the door to your closet swung open.
hour twenty four - 9:00 PM
“gotcha.”
#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron blurb#outer banks netflix#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe concepts#rafe obx#rafe one shot#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#outerbanks rafe#dark!rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#aesthetic
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind.
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”.
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip.
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?”
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are.
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight.
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru
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wonderland ; LN4
pairing(s) ; lando norris x bookworm!reader
summary ; in which lando’s girlfriend loves books and lando loves whatever she does
warnings ; nothing but pure fluff :)
note ; lol this is short but i found it in my drafts from ages ago & i completely forgot i had written it lmfao (++ the title is irrelevant, i couldn’t think of one and i love this song so i was like that’ll do)
twitter !
instagram ; lando.jpg
liked by oscarpiastri, flonorris1 and others
lando.jpg she said she didn’t have enough pics to fulfil your photo dump dreams so here are some pics to make up for your lack of y/n lately
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flonorris1 you’re OBSESSED
landonorris what’s your point
user1 lando get OFF your knees
user2 he had all of these in his camera roll😭😭
user3 better yet he probs took them all
user4 what was she reading ??
landonorris in the second pic she was reading to me and it was little women (of course). in the 4th pic im not sure what book it is but ill ask her now
landonorris she said the book in the 4th pic is called ‘throttled’ by lauren asher
user5 omg who’s gonna tell him what y/n was reading
user6 SHE WAS READING THROTTLED YHATS SO ICONIC😭😭😭😭
oscarpiastri landonorris mate lily just told me what throttled is i think you should google it
user6 the difference between little women and throttled is so funny i love y/n’s taste in books😭
user7 i would die for her
olivernorris1 yourusername this man is so obsessed with you it’s actually hilarious
yourusername i 🫶 my obsessed boyfie
user8 y/n we (your children) miss you come back home
instagram ; yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and others
yourusername hell was the journey but it brought me heaven 🩵
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user1 MOTHER IS BACK 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
user2 omg who’s kid is that
user3 it’s y/n’s little brother
user4 THATS SO ADORABLE😭😭
landonorris you’re so obsessed with me
yourusername LOL ok mr whole jpg post dedicated to me
landonorris i said you were obsessed with me, i never denied being obsessed with you
flonorris1 you’re so so beautiful i miss you so much😭
yourusername STOP IT I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU MORE THAN ANHTHING
flonorris1 landonorris fly me and cisca out to bahrain pls bestie
landonorris ok just bc i know how badly my sisters wanna see me race
ciscanorris1 HAHAHHAHA ok yes sure
user5 i love the way she is with his sisters omg😭
lilymhe i miss you gf😭😭🫶
yourusername im in the uk next week pls tell me you are too
lilymhe OMG message me right now
user6 HE😭SENT😭HER😭MOON😭PICS😭
user7 more importantly HE😭LOOKED😭AT😭THE😭MOON😭AND😭THOUGHT😭OF😭HER😭
user8 shut up i’m gonna be sick
user9 omg where’d you get your tattoo i want a taylor lyric and yours is so so nice
yourusername avastattooparlour is the only person i’ll ever let tattoo me 🥰 i would trust them with my life please go see ava, they’re incredible 😭😭
yourusername just added to their story !
seen by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and others
landonorris replied to your story!
→ babe what is this
→ WHO said you were allowed to look that fine
→ have you been hacked
→ are you reading binding 13 AGAIN
→ no
→ i’ve already reread it, im up to keeping 13
→ dear god
landonorris is live on twitch !
[transcript]
[LN: hey chat we’re gonna play some games tonight i’m just waiting for y/n to bring me snacks.]
[LN: yes yes y/n will be here soon guys chill out.]
[LN: “we want y/n” yes guys i know you like my girlfriend more than you like me but chill out.]
[YN: chat know i’m the best i don’t know what to tell you.
LN: thank you for the food baby but can you stop stealing chat’s attention.]
[YN: okay guys i'm gonna go before lan starts crying because we love each other more than we love him.
LN: stop flirting with my chat and go read your book.]
[LN: "what is she going to go read?" uhh i think she's rereading the binding 13 series for the thousandth time. it's like her favourite books of all time and she always rants to me about them.]
[LN: no chat you don't understand, it got to a point where i read the books because she was ranting about them so much and i just wanted to be able to understand what she was talking about.]
[LN: anyways, let's start playing some games before max yells at me for making him wait.
MF: mate you're obsessed with her.]
twitter !
#lando norris#lando#norris#ln4#land norris imagine#lando norris smau#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n#ln4 one shot#ln4 x you#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#formula one#formula 1#f1#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula one fluff#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#taylor swift#smau#ln4 smau#mclaren
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PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader
synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)
tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst
The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you.
With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul.
Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.
Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.
Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten.
As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. ���That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue.
“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you.
Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you.
Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way).
But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring.
Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine.
And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints.
Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you?
He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?
You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
#canary’s melodies#canary’s symphonies#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod#simon riley call of duty#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost riley#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost angst#ghost mw2#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost cod#ghost#cod fanfic#task force 141#tf 141#cod angst#cod#call of duty#modern warefare 2 x reader
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