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georgiapeach30513 · 1 month

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With Your Touch, Part 2

Summary: Lloyd has some rules, and very little control.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual tension, video sex, a bit of voyeurism, implied male masturbation, teasing, daddy issues, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Shh, sweetheart. We’ve got to tell your daddy you need a proper middle name. Unless you’re European. Can you tell me if you are?” Lyla giggles a bit, reaching a hand up to touch your face. “Oh, I knew it. You want one. So what do you think your dad will like an A name? A B name?” The baby squeals so loud you hear Lloyd’s loud banging stop. Pausing while he focuses on Lyla’s voice.

“Was that a good sound or bad? I haven’t learned her noises. Cries. Voice. I don’t know what the correct terminology would be, but I haven’t learned it.”

“It isn’t bad. She’s communicating with me.”

“What?” His voice is laced in so much confusion that you find it so endearing. He was obnoxious, but trying. His rules for you as the au pair were a bit too much, but the pay was ridiculously good. And Chase didn’t live too far. He could sneak in.

You walk into Lyla’s room, wanting to laugh as Lloyd curses at the crib he was trying to put together. Looking down at the sweet baby in your arms as her daddy throws something else, “He’s pitching a fit.”

“No the — no, I’m not. This stupid thing is impossible with these dumbass directions. And she can’t sleep in her bedroom. I don’t want her to sleep in the portable crib anymore. I want her to have a space of her own. I highly doubt her whore of a mother gave her that. And yes, she is. Any woman that drops off a baby with their father who knows fuck all about kids is a whore and shitty human being. And Lyla, I apologize. I’m working on not talking like an asshole around her.”

Working on it, and failing miserably, it is still cute he thinks he’s going to change that quickly. Even just acknowledging that type of language isn’t suitable for her is a start. “And here I am in over my head, putting together an overly pink bedroom for her because she didn’t ask to be born, and I am extra.”

“Yeah, designer baby clothes aren't what a lot of parents do.”

“How did your father dress you?”

Chuckling, you put Lyla in her carrier. You place her slightly behind, but still beside Lloyd, and plant yourself beside him, grabbing up the directions. “Roman didn’t dress me. My mother did. Roman might have paid for things, but my mom was the one that was there always. So you’re doing a lot better than him.”

“Is this a moment you tell me you have daddy issues?”

Snorting, you look up at him, shaking your head no, “This is me telling you my experience with my father. Having a dad in a girl’s life makes a difference. I call him Roman. What do you want Lyla to call you?”

“Dad.”

“You know you didn’t hesitate?” Taking a deep inhale, Lloyd grabs the directions from you, busying himself in reading them. You don’t think he actually is looking at them, he’s absorbing what you said, while also refusing to look at you and show you his vulnerability. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t she have a middle name?”

“Why does she need one?”

“What’s your middle name?” You counter quickly, and he leans back. His eyes gazing over your body. Wondering where the hell you came from because clearly you didn’t know who he was.

He narrows his eyes, looking at you and then his daughter. Lyla can’t help but to giggle at him. Tiny little thing. You wonder if she was malnourished or just a bit miniature anyways. “Bennett,” he waits to see if you react before continuing. “Why does she need one?”

“Beatrice,” he looks down at the baby who chuckles again. “She likes you, and she told me she wanted a name that started with B, and now I find out your name starts with a B. I think you and your daddy are a perfect pair, don’t you Miss Lyla Bee?” Despite whatever nonsense her mother had her living in, she's a happy baby. One that is very much aware of her daddy. Her bright green eyes focus on him when he looks at her.

“Lyla Bee. I like that. She’s like my little bumble bee. Should we get rid of all the pink and change it to bumble bees? Did I make a mistake with the pink? What if she doesn’t like pink?”

You shrug your shoulders. It really didn’t matter what she liked. She seemed to like her dad, and he adored her, and wanted to do right by her. “I think we should keep the pink. Here, you tend to the baby, and let me have a go at this crib. You’re messing everything up. And she really likes you.”

“But you’re the au pair?” He says, holding onto Lyla. He gives his finger to her, and her little baby fingers wrap around him tightly.

“And you’re mucking up this crib. Can I? I helped my mom with my little brother’s crib. It was a long time ago. But,” you go silent, grabbing the directions back from Lloyd. Using the same tactic he did earlier. Focus on this and ignore the questions, “No, Roman is not his father.”

“Didn’t ask,” he didn’t have to. Everyone else did. Your brother was an angel, and his father was…well, he was there. He made sure that Vincent was taken care of. Might not have offered you any attention, but you weren’t his responsibility.

“You thought it, so that was enough. I like the simple, but extravagant theme you went for in her bedroom though. Even if the Dior bunny is a bit much.”

“She likes it,” he chuckles, looking down at his daughter. “My partner told me buying things is my love language.”

“You must really love your daughter then,” he whispers out ‘yeah’, not realizing how much it hurts you that he loves someone he just met. And your father knew about you during the pregnancy. You didn’t have daddy issues. You had men issues. Men couldn’t be trusted. There were to be looked at, and put to good use.

You flop down on the seat next to Lloyd on the couch with a cup of microwave macaroni and cheese. You take a bite of the easy dinner, glancing at the television while Lloyd scowls. His eyes drift over your body, slightly confused. Watching as your jaw pulses with your chews.

“I feel you watching me,” he didn’t hide his facial expressions. You could read exactly what he was thinking by the quirks of his brows and mouth alone. Not that you had been paying attention to his mouth.

“What is that dreadful shit you’re eating?”

You turn your body towards him, and slowly take another bite. Noting how his eyes go to your mouth as he watches you chew in disgust. “It only took three and a half minutes to make.”

“It smells like it did. But what are you eating?” This man has been rich his entire life. Didn’t even know the joys of microwaveable food.

“It’s mac and cheese,” you giggle. Scooping out a bit, and you hold the spoon out for him. “Try it.”

“I’d rather not,” his face no longer disgusted, but more indifferent.

“Because you’re scared to eat after me?” He rolls his eyes as you take another bite of the sinfully delicious and preservative filled dinner. It probably had too much sodium in it, and the way you dressed it up surely didn’t help. But it was simple and comforting all the same. Lloyd could learn to loosen up a bit. Bring himself down to a ‘normal lifestyle’.

“While sharing a spoon with you does repulse me. The idea of eating something that came out of a microwave is just as disgusting. Did your father not feed you well?”

“Roman,” you emphasize his name. One day Lloyd would understand that Roman was nothing but a sperm donor and a bank. “He didn’t feed me. My mother did. And she wanted me to be normal.”

“Eating proper food is normal,” you liked him. Legitimately liked him. He also didn’t get offended when you popped back. He probably always had someone around him ready to take orders. That is until you.

“I mean have the American dream.”

“Yes, the American dream is definitely to eat food that is cheaper than toilet paper.”

Slowly blinking, you watch him watch you. Something that should be uncomfortable with the lack of a baby as a buffer wasn’t. You wanted to bring him back down to earth. He was a bit pompous and a lot of an asshole, and you still liked it. “I’m going to make you a cup.”

“Please don’t,” his voice is flat as he watches you jump up from the couch.

“And you’re going to at least try it.”

“I’d rather not,” he is too stiff and robotic with his movements. You want to reach over to his shoulders and make him slouch. Maybe if you made him laugh or shook him? Made him dance with you? You were going to make him break.

“And after you’ve tried it, if you still think the same we can drop it. But what I put into my body is my business. What you put into yours is your business. We won’t judge one another. You can oblige me by cooking me and Lyla Bee a delicious dinner one evening. I’ll humor you, and try your rich people food, mkay?”

This isn’t at all what Lloyd had bargained for. A girl who was given no boundaries. But you had helped him get Lyla’s bedroom in order. She was even sleeping soundly in her crib while a monitor sat on the coffee table. You hadn’t complained when he would start throwing things in a fit. And somehow managed to calm him down.

“Fine, but I don’t cook. I have a private chef,” he responds, following you into the kitchen. Eyeing you as you go into the pantry. “Where did this come from?”

Sighing, you open up the fridge producing a container of shredded cheese, and walk to the counter. “I had it delivered while you were taking a nap with Lyla. It’s really cute to see you sleeping with a baby on your chest. You know, I could watch her. Nap time leaves me nothing to do but use Roman’s card to have some food delivered here.”

“I read you should try to bond with your baby whenever you can. I missed time with her. Wait — you were watching me sleep?” It was quick, but you saw his smirk. Did he like you watching him sleep? That almost feels like an invasion of privacy. Or did he like that you looked at him? Called him cute? What was this?

“It got quiet in the apartment. So I went to find you,” and you might have wandered around the giant apartment as well. His bedroom was just the first place you looked. And you might have enjoyed what you saw, and you might have created a quick but stupid scenario of your husband doing that. Not Lloyd in particular, just a blank faced man who may or may not have had a mustache.

“You’re a snoop?”

“I’m curious by nature,” it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t looking for something to hurt or burn Lloyd with. Just wanted to give a gander through everything. “So what exactly are my hours? When you’re here do you want me to be here? Can I request time off? Have a social life? You won’t exactly let me have people here, and I do respect that. This is yours and Lyla’s space, and I know with your line of work discretion is advised. But I can’t have my only friends be you and a baby. I do have a boyfriend, and I fear I won’t if I don’t see him.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lloyd smirks. That smile dies quickly as he watches you mix up the cheese concoction to the now completed noodles, and slide the disposable container to him. “You’re not going to put this in a real bowl?”

After washing your hands, you splash a bit of water on him. Giggling when his face turns into a snarl, “Loosen up. This is microwave food. And I need to see other people. Do you not like Chase?”

“His name is dumb,” rolling your eyes, you look away from him. Listening for any signs of movement on the monitor while Lloyd takes a tentative bite of the mac and cheese. Curling up his nose until the spoon touches his tongue, and you see his eyebrows go up. “But this isn’t that bad.”

“What’s wrong with his name?”

“Chase is a verb,” he answers matter of fact. He was going to be one of those. Complete alpha male, and you were bringing someone into his home that was hurting his ego. You weren’t even sure if Chase was the one, but he is definitely the one right now. You didn’t meet your forever person in college, and you’re not even sure you believe in that. You just find someone you tolerate and make sure the sex is good. Plus Chase was amazing to look at and a lot of fun.

“And I don’t want boys in and out of Lyla Bee’s life,” he liked the way the nickname you gave her sounded. It suited his sweet little bee. She had proven to be the sweetest and most cuddly baby he’d ever met. But he had only met one.

“I can respect that as long as you respect the fact that he is my boyfriend,” Lloyd didn’t really want to or have to for that matter. But you were new to this life and to him. You’d eventually see that Lloyd commanded all. Not that he would torture you like he did some. As long as you followed the rules.

“Fine.”

“Is it okay that I came out here tonight? Would you rather me stay holed up in my room? Alone?”

“No,” he answers, walking to the garbage can to dispose of the trash. He heads towards the sink, washing his spoon quickly before leaving you to go back into the living room. Leaving you with more questions than answers.

“No, as in it’s okay that I came out?”

“Were you supposed to stay in your bedroom and starve?” Well that was a simple question to answer. But it was your first night here, and you didn’t know what boundaries he had that you shouldn’t cross. “I don’t expect us to be best friends. But we live together. You’re the woman that takes care of my daughter, and I’m the man.”

Saying it in such simple terms made this arrangement sound strange. You didn’t want to be an au pair, and didn’t see yourself living with a man and his daughter. His baby daughter, who couldn’t even crawl. Currently you think about this weird living situation, and how lines could easily become blurred here.

“What are my duties?”

“You’ve already told me that you have daddy issues, and now you’re asking me what your duties are? Please. I’m going to bed. This line of question is — it’s not good for me. Goodnight, Dolly. Stay up as long as you like, but in the morning I’ll be gone. Tomorrow will be all your responsibility. I’ve added a monitor to your room. If it’s before five, I can tend to her.”

He walks off leaving you with even more questions. Why did he suddenly have that outburst? What had made him seem so sensitive? And you didn’t have daddy issues. You were just fine without your father. You didn’t seek the approval of a man, or needed one to keep you in line. Sure you might watch Lloyd with Lyla and wish that Roman had even an ounce of care that Lloyd had shown in the first few hours that you met him.

Lyla is lucky to have a man that stepped up to be her father. He didn’t have to. From what you understand he didn’t even know of her existence, but it didn’t matter. She was his priority.

Exhaling deeply, you turn off all the lights, and walk to your bedroom. You’d promised Chase you would call once you were settled in bed. You’d leave the awkward talk with Lloyd for tomorrow, or whenever he decided to show up. Giving a look towards his door instead of Lyla’s telling yourself you would crack him. It was one day, and things wouldn’t always be this awkward.

Sitting on your overly plush bed, you call up Chase, and he answers on the first ring, “FaceTime me. I want to see you.”

Flipping it over to a video call, you see his handsome face, and smile like a schoolgirl. “Nice room. Have you figured out how I’m going to be able to sneak in there?”

“Chase!”

“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I’ve never fucked an au pair before,” you roll your eyes. Letting the camera drift a bit before pulling apart your pajama top. Giving him a quick flash of your chest. “Oh, princess, I like that. Is that why you called me? We’ve never had phone sex before.”

”Being around a baby and a man child today made me miss you,” you give him a little pout. The performance that he loved so much, and you just enjoyed to see him get feral. “All I could think about was falling asleep because you wore me out.”

”I could fucking wear you out.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”

“I know how you like an audience. Maybe not actually seeing you, but you love when people can hear you. You think daddy Lloyd would have a problem hearing you whisper my name?” Daddy Lloyd? Now why did that give you a bit of a pause. A rumble in your belly that you hadn’t expected. Ignoring a few of Chase’s words as your mind ponders, going in so many different directions of why those words strung together made you…feel.

“He’d hear you gasping for breath as I stab into that sweet little cunt. Or maybe he’d walk in to see you riding me. Why don’t you remind me how you ride me,” you hum at him, and he pans the camera down to his lap, and he’s gripping the base of his cock so tightly. Beads of precum gather at the tip. Normally he’d have his cock already covered in a condom. But seeing him in all his glory is doing something to you.

“Grab a pillow, and pretend it’s me. I’ll stroke my cock to whatever pace you set.”

—

Lloyd flops to the other side. Grabbing his pillow he covers his head thinking about anything besides what he is hearing. He shouldn’t have added the camera to your room. But to be fair the cameras were in every fucking room in the apartment. How was he going to protect you and his daughter if he didn’t know what was going on?

Maybe the ones in the bathroom were too much, but they weren’t pointing at the toilet. My god, he wanted to look. Wanted to turn the volume down. Wanted to get that stupid verb out of his mind. But the verb wouldn’t stop talking. It isn’t even fair that you are whispering. It is normal for people to masturbate. You’d just sound better without his pathetic attempts at phone sex.

“Ugh,” Lloyd growls. He could exit out of the app if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Is it because he didn’t want to? Is it because he liked the sound of your sweet noises? Or is it because it had been too long since he had felt something besides his hand? He isn’t sure. The only thing he was truly positive about was you were killing him.

All fucking day. Acting all innocent and oblivious. He’d been away from women for too long, and you were…you knew what you were doing. Your cute little domestic moments with his daughter. You made him army ration mac and cheese that were at least edible. You helped him. You didn’t even ask, you just sat down and helped him. And you were sweet with his baby.

His emotions are conflicting with his need to…

He had to stop this utter nonsense. He isn’t a rational man, but he did what he had to do with the cameras. And now it’s backfiring on him because you can’t fucking whisper a moan. Why did your heavy breathing sound so sexy?

Why did he want to look? Were you topless? One peek wouldn’t hurt. But it would be crossing a line. How would he feel if someone was doing this with his daughter? He wouldn’t like it. You were Roman’s daughter. Even though he didn’t tell him you had the prettiest…

Nope. He is spiraling down into a sinful rabbit hole. His cock is too hard and angry and it is killing him to not look. He even fears grabbing his phone to turn down the volume will make him want to watch you. See you do whatever the fuck you are doing. Judging by the sounds and whatever The Verb was saying, you are grinding on a fucking pillow.

One look won’t hurt.

Nope, he can’t do this. He throws the blanket off him. Sitting up in the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees. Head in his hands as he tries to make his cock calm down. He was lonely. But it feels even wrong to fuck his fist because your voice is what got him hard.

This arrangement was needed, but this is difficult. Feeling a bit impossibly hard right now. Everything was hard. Including his fucking cock. It was quaking with the need to be dealt with.

Shaking his head, he stands up. His cock pressing uncomfortably against his boxers. A walk through the apartment is much needed. Get away from the noise. Maybe eat another somewhat edible peasant mac and cheese.

This was a bad idea. He sees the soft glow underneath your bedroom door, and has a deep desire to sling it open and get on to you for being…

No. He can’t do that. You’re not ‘breaking’ any of his rules. You’re just mutually masturbating with your boyfriend, and you’re taking too long. Not that he would make sure to fuck you quickly. He just doesn’t want someone else taking their time with you.

What the fuck is he even talking about? He can’t fuck you. You were Lyla’s. He just paid you. He could pay you in other ways.

No!

You fucking asked him what your duties were. He’d love for your duties to be getting to your knees and letting him see how pretty your mouth looked with his cock in it. His tip nudging the back of your throat while tears fill your eyes, and your lungs cry for air.

What the actual fuck? Why was he like this? Why was this a struggle? And why is he going the opposite way of the kitchen? Landing directly in front of your door? Listening to your sounds live. Panting. Whimpering. Not saying The Verb’s name. He’d have you screaming his name. He would have you begging for him to let you come. Have you edged all day because you wanted to tease him with silly little questions about your duties.

He’d have tears falling down your cheeks as he smirks down at you. Letting you know what a pathetic and needy little slut you were. Fuck you so hard your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, and you’re completely dumb. So dumb that you’re just spouting out random words until he’s left his seed inside your belly.

Walking to your bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up before leaving you blissed out. Making you so needy that you beg for his attention. Start being a good girl so you get more time with is cock in — inside of you. Ready to crawl on your knees after Lyla was put to sleep, and telling him you’re his little sex doll. And he would make so much use of your body and holes. Fucking you every night. Special time just for you. Just so he can feel your tight…tight…tight walls milk him dry.

”Lloyd?” Your voice pants on the other side of the room. “Lloyd is that you?” Getting closer to the door. He tucks his cock back in his boxers. Not even realizing he had been rubbing one out to your sounds. Wiping his hands on the silk of his underwear when you sling the door open.

How did you become prettier? A sheen of sweat around your hairline, and yep…you’d been grinding on a fucking pillow. Your bed is a crumbled up mess and a pillow is right in the middle of the bed. “Is everything okay? Sorry, I was…I was telling Chase goodnight.”

The Verb. You had shorts on earlier. Now it’s this t-shirt that was barely covering your legs. Were you naked? Did you show him your pussy? Your chest continues to heave, and he hates The Verb. He despises him. He’s got to go. You can’t spend time with Lyla and him if The Verb was in the picture. “Lloyd, are you okay?”

“I’m hungry.”

”I’m confused,” what was his reason for being at your door, telling you that he was hungry.

”I like ramen. The gross kind. The kind that…”

”Like top ramen?” You ask him confused. Mouth still slightly open as you try to catch your breath and his eyebrow quirks up. Did you know he was listening to you and stroking himself?

“Yes. You made me your cheap noodles, would you like me to make you some of my cheap noodles?”

“It’s after midnight.”

“Fine, I’ll eat the noodles by myself,” spinning on his heels, he walks away from you into the kitchen. It isn’t long until he hears the soft pads of your feet following him. “I told you it was okay.”

“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. You were almost asleep as you were telling your…boyfriend goodnight. That’s exactly what almost asleep sounds like,” that list bit of his sentence sounds a bit implying. Did he know?

“Did you hear our conversation?” Was it even a conversation? He couldn’t remember. He just heard you telling him you were going to come. Not The Verb, but Lloyd. You are a tease. He didn’t mean to get off on your voice. “How long were you out here?”

“Grab me a pot?” Oh you were obedient, bending over to get a pot, and standing up quickly. Not quick enough. No panties. He pretends to see nothing. You can sleep with no panties. That’s a good habit to get into because he can just slide into your bed, and start fucking you. When you get there of course. Consent is key. And he feels like a bastard for what he did tonight. But that movement you just did was on your own.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” He asks with a devilish grin.

“Nothing,” it wasn’t just nothing. But he wasn’t going to make you feel guilty for the need to show him your cunt still glistening. He’d have your legs drenched. “Do you do anything special with your ramen? Or do you make it as is?”

“There’s some eggs and spring onions in the fridge. Does that answer your question?” He nods his head towards the fridge, trying to figure out what else he could make you do to get a little peek. He’d play oblivious. Let you decide what you are comfortable with. “Mind getting me some bowls from the top shelf?”

Standing on your tippy toes you dance around a moment. The bottom of your ass cheeks make a little appearance, and he steps behind you to reach the bowls himself. Taking too long to cage your body with your own. And when you gasp, pressing your ass into his crotch he bounces back immediately. Dropping the bowls into the floor and they shatter into thousands of pieces.

“Shit,” Lloyd whispers under his breath. And without asking, places his hands on your sides to lift you up onto the counter. “Stay there while I clean this up. I don’t need you stepping on glass.”

He doesn’t notice the odd glances that you give him as he picks up the larger pieces and starts sweeping up the rest. “My mom always uses wet a paper towel to get the tiny pieces up.”

“That’s smart,” he follows your instructions. And stands up straight. You have already gotten more comfortable, and your legs are not so tightly pressed together. He has to bite his tongue in order to not look. But as high up as that shirt is sitting on your thighs, he knows. And you are aware that he knows.

“Not that Lyla can even crawl right now, but the idea of there being these tiny pieces of glass for you to step on when holding her,” his words stop, and he stands in front of you. How did you not realize he was shirtless? Why is his chest so close to your face as he reaches above your head for more bowls? Why does he smell like a wet dream? Push the thoughts away.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself and dropping her in an accident.”

“I won’t drop her.”

“Knock on the cabinets immediately! That is bad luck,” you do as he says, not pegging him as a superstitious man at all. “I had some chance to think about it. I think on Sundays you should have the day off completely unless I’m out of town. Saturdays, is it fair to ask for you to work half a day? Just until around noon?”

“I think that’s fair.”

“And maybe we should not talk about The Verb?”

“The Verb?” What was he even talking about? You notice his eyes flick momentarily to your lap, and you realize how comfortable you had gotten on this counter. Your legs are too far apart. He had to have seen something. Was he disappointed? You didn’t want to disappoint him. You had just started to get to know him. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could care for a baby.

“That Chase boy.”

“My boyfriend?” You giggle. Why did he have such an issue with Chase?

“Why is he even your boyfriend?”

“He’s better than a dildo. I mean,” you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and have to look at the floor. Missing how big Lloyd’s smile spreads across his smug face. Or the way he is stalking towards you like he’s ready to pounce on his prey. “We’ve been together for awhile, but it’s not that serious.”

“Sweetheart, don’t settle for better than a dildo,” he stands right in front of you. Both hands on your knees as he goes to push your legs apart. Inserting himself in between your thighs. The weird feeling in your tummy returns, and you hate having no panties on as slick floods to your core. Throat dry as his finger touches your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “And when I’m speaking to you, I expect you to look me in the eyes, do you understand?”

You nod your head slowly, but he clicks his tongue, “And I expect you to verbally answer in my home. Little head gestures are easily misinterpreted, okay?”

“Okay,” he raises an eyebrow, wanting you to finish your sentence, but words are impossible, and your brain is mush. Everything is delayed as you feel the heat between you and Lloyd, “I understand.”

“If you need something better than a dildo and more than The Verb just use your words,” what the fuck does that even mean? He steps away from you much quicker than he inserted himself. The air in the room is heavy and stifling, and you wonder if you even knew how to breathe without reminding yourself to inhale and exhale.

“Do you like creamy ramen or brothy?” This bastard is really changing the subject. You can’t even think with the two heartbeats you feel. One inside your chest, while the other is between your thighs and throbbing. Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body betraying you?

“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”

“You want to get me the heavy whipping cream?” He gives you a cheeky smile when you jump off the counter and head towards the fridge.

“Why are you asking me to do all these things?”

“Because you listen so well,” you pause before reaching for the heavy whipping cream, and turn to look at him.

“What is this?” He’s playing a sick game. He had to be. He saw this ‘vulnerable little girl’ that he had to save. You didn’t need saving, you were fine all on your own.

“You’re very well behaved. Your mother did a good job. Until just now you didn’t even question it. Just did as I asked,” what is he getting at? He is talking in riddles, or backwards, or you are just reading too much into whatever this exchange is. Keeping your mouth closed for the rest of the evening.

Keeping your eyes off him as you squirm around uncomfortably in your seat. Is this uncomfortable because of him? Or are you weirded out because you are feeling things because of him. If you look up, you’d see him smiling as he watches the weird inner turmoil going on in your head.

Finishing before you, he stands up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Walking past you towards his bedroom, he stops. “And Dolly?”

“Yes?” You ask, turning around in your chair.

“When you leave your room make sure you have on panties,” oh. My. God. He knew. He saw. He didn’t say anything until now. “Because next time I won’t force myself to stop my need to lean you over the counter and spank your ass.”

“Okay,” you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you couldn’t believe how your body was internalizing his words. Heat. Fire. Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. How you have immediate visions of Lloyd doing just that, and spreading your cheeks to see if he made you wet. He did. Uncomfortably so.

“Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he needs a cold shower. He needs away from you because his cock has been at full mast since you questioned why he was asking you to gather things for him. You could try to deny it, but he turned you on as much as you turned him on.

And yet here is your employer, and you are just the sweet au pair with daddy issues. No matter what you say. And he supposes he’s the sick bastard that didn’t mind teasing you. Giving you something to think about. Options? Something for the spank bank? He hopes you go to bed wet and frustrated. Wake up to needing to fuck your own fingers as you think about the close proximity he had to you.

He hopes that you are dripping with need for his cock, and his care and protection. And he hopes that a cold shower is enough to get visions of you yipping with every smack to your ass. That you would be the perfect and obedient girl for him. Woman. Girl sounded gross in this context. Thank you, Roman for making sure your daughter had daddy issues. But fuck him for not loving his daughter the way you deserved.

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

Note

Bingo out of their league Ethan Landry where the reader is hot (obvi 😘) and everyone is always complementing her and flirting with her acting like Ethan’s not there. One night They’re watching tv and she just wants him. He never told her he was a virgin because he thought she’d leave him for someone more experienced but she just praises him through it.

—𓆩[so good, baby]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - REGULAR AU! Ethan Landry x Fem! Popular! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.9K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Ethan wasn’t someone people thought would end up with you, but it didn’t stop you from getting him to fall for you, like it was hard. He never told you about his inexperience, but when you start teasing him during tutoring and bring him back to your house, he can’t really stop what he thinks will happen - not that he wants to.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || reader is popular and a cheerleader || reader wears makeup and revealing clothing || bitch tries to tease Ethan but you show him who’s boss || bitch also tries to flirt with Ethan and you do the same cuz you a boss bitch || public teasing || public blowjob || exhibitionism || oral in a library under a desk || maybe nympho reader, could be seen that way? || multiple orgasms || self-degradation || bossy/whiny reader || more oral || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || multiple orgasms || breeding kink ||

“Ethan, honey, are you going to walk me home?” You rubbed your fingers against his wrist, your pink pleated skirt showing off your lace underwear as you leaned over the bleachers.

“I-I have to go to tutoring,” he explains quickly, making you pout. “You can come with me though.”

“Are you tutoring or getting tutored?”

“I-I’m tutoring,” he says as you rub your hands against his chest that was covered in your favorite blue button up. “D-Do you want to come with me?”

“Can you… cancel?” You giggled, moving your hands to hold his collar. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

How? Would you give him a blowjob like he always wished you would, slobbering all over his cock in the middle of your apartment your father bought you?

“Y/N, baby, I canceled the last two sessions, I don’t think I can-” he paused when you pout, sighing. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I’ll just come with you, no big deal,” you shrugged, but he knew you were somewhat pissed off because you were still pouting - that was before you started to smile. “Did you book one of those private desks like always?”

He paused, but nodded. “Y-Yeah, I always do… it helps them focus, why?”

The private desks in the library were away from others in a group setting, multiple desks secluded reserved mainly for the tutoring sessions that had a special divider in between the two sides of the desk. Foggy glass separated the different cubicle-like studying areas, and wood separated the legs of the two students.

“Let’s go now so we can get there early.”

“Hey, Y/N! I can see those pretty panties baby, they for me?!” A voice yelled, Ethan’s eyes snapping toward the voice with reddened cheeks.

“Fuck off, you pervert!” You yelled, quickly standing up straight and pulling down the back of your skirt. “Let’s go, Ethan, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Where are you going, baby, come on! Careful, that weirdo that always follows you around is right on your tail!”

You paused, turning around as Ethan quickly stepped back so you wouldn’t run into him. “Are they talking about you?”

Ethan shrugs, his brow furrowed in anger as his fingers shake. “No, honey, they’re talking about that weirdo that always follows you around - yes, they are talking about me.”

He doesn’t expect you to grab his collar, pulling him down for a firm kiss as you hummed against his lips. His hands immediately go to your hips as your tongue pushes into his mouth, a loud groan leaving his lips as you let your feet plant against the ground and pull him down with you.

You pull a hand away from his cheek to grab his wrist, pulling his hands to hold the back of your thighs as he bent down. You hummed as you push your tongue around his, slowly pulling away with a smile. “We should go to the library.”

Ethan nods, head bobbing as you dragged him toward the main library building and to the private desks. The person he was supposed to be tutoring wasn’t there, not yet at least, so as Ethan was going to grab you a chair you had disappeared. “Y/N,” he whisper-yelled, looking around before something pushed a chair into his thigh and you peeked out from under the desk. “Y/N! What are you doing?”

You shrugged. “I want to sit down here. It’s comfy.”

“Y-You… Do you need me to get you a pillow? Or something?” He asks, making you giggle.

“If you can find me one.”

Oh he’d find you one alright. He wasn’t going to let you sit on the dirty carpet floor of the library. It took a few minutes but he did find somewhat of a pillow, which was a cushion broken off one of the chairs, and he quickly brought it back for you before the student he was supposed to tutor got there.

It didn’t take her long to get here, a textbook and notebook in hand as she quickly pulled out the chair and apologized for being late. “I’m sorry, Ethan, I completely forgot it was today and I had to rush to get here.”

“No worries.”

He gasped when he felt your hands on his thighs, rubbing against his denim jeans. He flinched as the girl continues to talk, droning on as your lips press against his crotch. His eyes rolled back, hips uncontrollably bucking as you unbutton his pants, grabbing his zipper with your teeth before he peered down at you, eyes hazy.

You looked so innocent, like you didn’t understand what you were doing was wrong - very, very wrong. “Is this okay?” You mouthed, and he nodded.

Why wouldn’t it be okay, you were about to suck his dick like a lollipop.

When you didn’t though, he let out a soft huff as he tried to teach this girl calculus that he had learned in high school was proving more difficult than he originally planned. It wasn’t until you started licking him through his boxers, sucking and rubbing making his hips buck.

“You alright, E? Can I call you that?” The girl leaned forward, smiling as she tapped against the paper. “You sure you know how to do this?”

Ethan hummed, gasping as you pulled his cock out of his underwear and licked a firm line from his balls to his tip. “C-Can you go get some more paper? I think w-we’re going to need it.”

She hummed, standing as she pulled up her skirt and started to walk away, sashaying her hips.

“She’s flirting with you, Ethan,” you say, rubbing his base making him whimper. “Gonna show her you’re mine.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement as you pulled him fully into your mouth, whatever couldn’t fit was being rubbed by your spit covered hand. He could feel his eyes roll back, head resting in his elbow as he groaned against the table, your hot mouth something he had never felt before in any way making him whimper.

Your head bobs, squelching echoing from the bottom of the desk as he exhales shakily against the desk, hips rutting into your mouth. Your jaw goes slack as you let him use your mouth, his rolling hips that were being supported by the rolling chair as you bobbed your head to match his pace.

He let out a strangled moan as your fingers squeeze and rub his ball sack that still sat inside of his boxers, sweat beading on his forehead. He desperately wanted to be louder, show everyone how good you were making him feel under this desk, your mouth hot and soft and wet and just pure bliss.

“Y-Y/N, baby, I’m so, so close. You feel so good, you make me f-feel so fucking good.” He said it into the bottom of the desk so that you could hear him, the position odd as he arched his back so he could speak to you. “Fuck.”

“Are you going to cum in the library, baby?” You whisper against his tip, licking his slit. “Gonna fuck my mouth and cum deep in my throat? Are you going to use my mouth just to cum and get off? You can baby, you can.”

He groaned, reaching down to hold your head against his cock, thrusting as fast and hard as he could with minimal movement of the chair. It was difficult for it not to move, a loud gasp leaving his lips as he came down your throat, eyes rolling back as he covered his mouth with his hand.

The girl he didn’t care to know the name of sat back down in front of him, but you don’t get off his cock as you continue to bob your head slowly to continue to milk his cock. He lets out a soft whimper as the girl pauses, raising a brow. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.”

She leans forward, attempting to push her tits out. “Ethan, right? It is Ethan, right? I haven’t been calling you the wrong name?”

He nodded, covering his mouth before pulling a hand away from the back of your head. “Y-Yeah, it’s Ethan.”

“Well, Ethan,” she giggled, tossing her hair back. “Why don’t… you do my homework for me and I’ll give you something worth your while?”

You pushed Ethan’s chair back enough to step out, zipping up his jeans as you stood before patting the button. “You got that last part, darling? Let’s go home and finish.”

You wiped the remaining cum dripping from your lips, giggling as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the library as he struggles to button his jeans back up.

It doesn’t take you both long to get back to your apartment, sitting him down on the couch. “Put on a movie for us? I’m going to change and take off my makeup.”

“Oh, okay,” he clears his throat as you walk to the restroom, opting to wear no clothes and taking off your makeup before walking out. “Hey! I chose your favorite, I know you like-”

“Shut up, Ethan.” You straddle his hips, pulling his lips up to yours as he gasps. “Open your mouth, please? Open?”

He nodded, opening his mouth and lulling out his tongue as you pushed your fingers in, coating them with his saliva before pushing them down to your cunt. He pulled you closer, groaning into your mouth as one of his hands swiped along your slit. He softly stroked your entrance, joining your fingers before pulling away. “Y-Y/N, Y/N baby, I’ve never done this before. I-I don’t know how-”

He stops when you pause, eyes wide. “You… this is your first time?”

He blushed, nodding as you slowly pulled your fingers away from your clenching cunt.

“Was that your first blowjob?”

He nodded again, looking away before you grabbed his chin with your wet fingers, smiling. “Well, did I do good?”

“So good,” Ethan whispered, nodding. “So, so good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You say, stroking his hair. “I would’ve… done it somewhere more special.”

“Baby, anything is special if it’s with you,” he says quickly, shaking his head as he leaned into your chest. “Anywhere, anytime. I don’t care as long as all my firsts are with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, eyes watering before he kissed under them. “Oh Ethan, don’t make me cry.”

“I will but in a good way,” he says, smiling up at you as you laugh. “Now, teach me how to please you.”

Those words led you to lay on your back on the soft couch, legs spread wide for him as he experimentally pushed a finger inside of you. His face scrunched in pleasure as his middle finger slowly pushed inside of you, your spongy walls clamping down on his digit as he slowly pushed it in knuckle deep.

You squirmed slightly, Ethan looking up at your calm face. “I-Is that not enough?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “You should add another finger. And use your mouth.”

“L-Like how?” He leans down, licking experimentally against your clit before letting it slide down the slit. “Like that?”

He could feel you shiver, watching as you nodded. “Y-Yeah, like that. Just like that baby, that’s so good. So good, baby.”

He nodded slightly, letting his lips latch onto your clit and suck harder as he started to move his fingers, pushing another finger inside of you. It’s difficult at first, your tight ring of muscle not letting his other finger pass before you buck your hips forward, both easily sliding into you as you moan loudly. It was a little painful at first, just because his fingers were so stiff, but he relaxed them and slowly began to thrust them in and out, curling them inside of you.

You gasped as his fingers got faster, thrusting in and out as he sucked on your clit, letting his teeth graze the sensitive bud. A whine leaves your mouth as you buck your hips, his mouth sloppy and messy and letting spit mix with your arousal. Loud squelching fills the living room as his fingers press into that perfect spot inside of you, stroking and pushing as he groans against your clit. “Is this it baby? It feels tough, my darling, like a button.”

His words were even more inexperienced than him, even though his actions weren’t proving it, his fingers flexing and thrusting in just the right places. Your eyes roll back, loud moans falling from your lips as he continues to stroke and press against that perfect spot, and his mouth messily sucking on your clit made everything blur, a loud groan leaving your lips as he gave one last press and your stomach tightens, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth.

He groaned loudly as your walls tighten, his fingers almost unable to move before he moved down to suck against your entrance and was finally able to pull them out. His fingers were wet and sticky, tips pruned and wrinkly from how wet you were, but he pushed them into his mouth before basically diving between your legs as though it was a feast.

He was messy and uncontrollable, your fingers in his hair to ground yourself from how quick his tongue moved and how his teeth grazed against your sensitive areas every once in a while. Your hips back into his mouth, loud moans falling from your lips as he groaned into your pussy before pulling away, mouth gleaming. “D-Did I do good?”

“So good, E, so fucking good.”

You watch as he sits back on his feet, quickly unbuttoning his pants before pulling out his dick, pumping to make a picturesque dribble of cum leak from his tip. “Fuck, do you have a condom? Do you want me to wear one? I can go get one.”

You shake your head. “N-No, don’t worry about it. Just fuck me, please Ethan, fuck me.”

He nodded, swallowing as he attempts to push his head into you, gasping as it slips and goes up instead. It was embarrassing, his grip going farther up to try and steady himself, though he fails again with a loud groan.

“Ethan, baby, calm down,” you say, spreading your legs wider with an attempt to relax yourself and your cunt. Who wouldn’t be excited when you would be fucked into cloud nine by your sweet boyfriend, taking his virginity was just the bow on top. “We got time.”

He inhaled deeply, steadying himself as he pushed his tip in slowly, whimpering as your cunt clamps down on him. You were tight, warm, soaked and just perfect as he held his breath so he wouldn’t cum, he couldn’t cum just from putting it in. He gasped for air once he bottoms out, your nails shakily dragging against his back with a loud whine. “Y-Y/N, you feel so good. I’m going to cum soon, I can’t stop myself, you’re just s-so perfect.”

You shushed him, stroking his hair. “You don’t worry, baby, don’t worry at all. You just need to do a quick snap and roll of your hips, okay? You’ll get the hang of it.”

Oh and did he.

He wasn’t true to his words, he was edging himself as he thrusted into you, gasping and groaning as your nails dig into his skin and dragged down his back. “Fuck, fuck Ethan!”

You were moaning nonstop, the thought that he was doing this to you, a fucking virgin was making you moan like this was making his ego swell as he got faster. He grunted loudly, tilting his head back as he groaned loudly when you clamp down on him once again, jaw clenching and Adam's apple bobbing while sweat dribbled down his temple.

He didn’t even know that he came until you started to roll your hips, his stomach burning as you whimpered softly. “Ethan, you’re so fucking good. I came, I came again when you did, please keep going. Please?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. “Only if you keep telling me how good I make you feel.”

You nodded immediately, gasping. “I will. I will.”

He grinned, licking his teeth. “A virgin made you cum, baby. And he’s about to fucking fill you.”

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ellethespaceunicorn · 3 months

Text

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Title: Don’t Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Warnings: Daddy kink, pet name (Sweets), praise kink (slightly), ass worship, butt plug, anal fingering, first time *romantic* anal, creampie

A/N: Based on this poll, Steve Rogers won. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge (Eros-sexual passion). Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

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His fingers glide across the skin of your shoulder blade as sunlight cascades over your beautiful brown skin while you sleep on your stomach. He marvels at how you seem to glow in the rays of the morning sun. Leaning in, he places a chaste kiss on your lips, trying his best to wake you gently.

You grumble, the weight of his kiss just enough to pull you from a deep slumber.

“What was that, Sweets?” Steve’s sultry baritone invades your consciousness and you open your eyes.

“I said, ‘five more minutes’,” you plead, pouting up at Steve and hoping he would give you a break after seeing your tired eyes.

No such luck.

“Nice try, Sweets. You know what today is, right?” he asks, peppering kisses to the top of your bonnet-covered hair.

“It’s...Wednesday?” you guess, trying your best to get back to REM sleep.

“Yes, technically, it is Wednesday. It’s also…” he trails off, waiting for the pieces to click into place in your mind.

You lift your head, locking eyes with Steve. For three whole seconds, you just look at him with a confused expression on your face until it hits you. “It’s Valentine’s Day!” you chuckle, and playfully swat at him.

“Now, she’s cooking with gas. I thought it was gonna take you all day to figure it out,” he jokes, laughing as you roll your eyes at him.

You turn around in bed and swing your legs over the edge. Reaching up to untie your hair, your braids cascade down your back. Peeking over your shoulder, you catch Steve watching you while one of his hands runs through his golden tresses.

“Caught ya looking, Daddy,” you tease before standing and walking around the bed to his side. He reaches out to touch you, but you pull back at the last second. “Unh-uh! Not until tonight. I got something special planned for you.”

“Something special, huh? Well, I can’t wait. But I guess I will have to, won’t I?” he guesses, standing up from the bed to tower over you. He lifts his hands in surrender after you point a manicured finger at him. “Hands to myself, I promise. For now,” he flirts, walking around you to go into the bathroom to shower.

While Steve is in the shower, you mentally run down your checklist of things for tonight. Your new pink glass buttplug, check! New red lace lingerie, check! You had everything planned down to the last detail and you were very excited to see Steve’s reaction. Now, all that was left was to get everything ready while Steve was away for the day.

Steve comes back to your darkened apartment that night, surprised to see a trail of red rose petals and vanilla-scented tea lights leading him to the bedroom. He stoops down to grab the card that was left near the door.

‘Daddy,

Come and unwrap your present.

-Sweets’

Making his way along the petaled path, he reaches your slightly ajar bedroom door. Pushing it open, he is greeted by you kneeling in the center of the bed. A red rose hairclip holds the right side of your braids back, and the red lace bodysuit you wear hugs all of your curves perfectly.

You take in the way Steve looks at you like you hung the moon. His ocean eyes darken as he takes in your scent, your favorite perfume lingering in the air.

“Hi, Daddy. Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, making your way to where Steve stands at the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you join me? You can put these big, strong hands to use,” you slide your arms around his neck and instinctually, his hands go to your waist.

Leaning down to claim your lips, he doesn’t hold back teasing his tongue along the seam of your mouth. Once you let him in, he takes control of the kiss. Swallowing down your whimpers and moans, he cups the back of your head and nibbles your bottom lip.

Breaking the kiss, he laughs lowly when you try and follow his lips. “I think I was promised a gift, Sweets. Now, what might that be?” he muses, his fingertips moving along the red lace until he comes upon a pebbled nipple.

You take his hand and guide it to where the gusset of your bodysuit would be, now drenched with your slick. You nod and he explores your soft folds through the crotchless lace. He knows how to play you like a damn fiddle. Gathering your moisture and applying just the right amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves.

Within moments, he has your legs weak while he gives your clit some much-needed attention. His other hand goes to your chin so that you look up at him as he brings you over the edge. You fight to keep your eyes open as the chains of orgasm are broken, your throbbing pussy creaming his hand.

“Such a good girl for me. God, you’re perfect, Sweets,” he praises, still unaware of what you have in store for him as he takes off his tie and goes to unbutton his shirt.

“Daddy, I have a surprise for you. I’ve been working all day long on it,” you chime in, biting your lip as you cup Steve’s erection through his slacks.

“You go ahead and show me that surprise, now,” he encourages, watching intently as you turn around and present yourself to him with your ass in the air. His hand goes to your hip, slowly moving toward your ample backside. Groping your ass, he finds something he had hinted at only weeks ago. “Oh, fuck. Look at this adorable little plug. Have you been wearing this all day, Sweets?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ve been stretched around it all day long. I wanted you to have something no one has had before. It’s all yours,” you say, wiggling your hips to show off your toy.

“You are such a good girl for wearing it all day,” he murmurs, taking the lube that was delicately placed on the bed earlier by you. Dripping the liquid between your cheeks, he spreads it generously around your plump globes. He lays a few slaps to each cheek and moves some of the lube between your cheeks to tease the toy in and out of you slightly.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, growing ever so impatient now that Steve is teasing you.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Sweets. Let’s just get this pretty plug out of here,” he purrs, pulling out the toy and watching as your hole tightens up a bit. He uses one finger to explore you, graduating to two and three fingers when you take him in so well. Soon, the wet squelch of lube as he fingers you is the loudest sound in the room, even over your moans.

With three fingers inside you, Steve uses the other hand to unzip his pants. Pulling out his red, weeping dick, he squeezes the base and coats it in the excess lube that has accumulated. Lining up to your opening, he pushes in slowly until you engulf his tip. The hard part is over as he slides into the hilt.

He waits until you start to wriggle under his hands to begin a languid pace, slow as molasses in January. Your hand snakes down to your forgotten pussy, shiny and slick with a mixture of your arousal and lubricant. Your fingers stimulate your clit as Steve takes you apart from the inside.

You’ve never felt so fully taken before, the stretch of his massive member adding to the sacred friction. As soon as your fingers take you over the edge, you notice how intense this orgasm is. You moan into the bedsheets as your cunt shudders and your asshole clamps down around Steve.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl. That felt so fucking good, Sweets. Don’t think I can last much longer with you coming so hard on my dick like that,” he ponders aloud, quickening his pace to chase his release.

As he pounds into you from behind, he reaches around to finger your pussy while his palm rubs your sweet spot. When he can sense you getting closer and closer to the edge, he pulls his fingers from inside you and plays with your clit.

“Be my good girl and cum with me, Sweets. Fuck, I can feel it right now. You ready for it baby?” he persuades, fucking into you while you moan non-stop.

“Yes, please. I’m ready for your cum, Daddy,” you cry out, your climax pulling you over the edge, tumbling straight into Steve’s release. You can feel every spurt of spunk painting your delicate inner walls while he throbs inside you.

Coming down, he lets his deflating length slip out and directs you to lie down before climbing on the bed next to you. Wrapping you up in his arms, he kisses your forehead and isn’t surprised when he soon hears the soft snores escaping you.

He’s more than content to wait to give you his gift. He smiles, remembering the velvet box in his suit jacket pocket in the other room. He can wait a bit longer to hear you say yes.

A/N: Alright, well, I haven’t written for Steve Rogers in over 12 years. I hope this was good. I would love to hear what y’all think. The title is taken from ‘Rocket’ by Beyoncé.

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#ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers x black!reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #x black plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x black reader #chris evans #chris evans characters #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #captain america x reader #steve rogers x female reader #captain america fanfiction

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jjungkookislife · 3 months

Text

Lonely Night

♡ pairing: hfth!jungkook x f. reader

♡ genre: established relationship, fluff, [18+]

♡ summary: It's your first night alone without Jungkook at your side.

♡ wc: 2.2k

♡ warnings: food mention, mention of spiraling

♡ date: January 26, 2024

♡ series masterlist

Winter break ends faster than you realize. Jungkook and you hadn’t had a chance to see the house Grandmother Jeon had gifted him.

“Mom!” Jungkook whines with a pout on his pretty pink lips.

You giggle as you take the second large bag of food she hands you.

“We have more than enough,” Jungkook insists as a third, smaller bag was pressed to his chest.

“You can never have enough,” Aera insists as she walks you to the door, where Seokjin and Jimin wait in the car.

“Share with your friends,” Aera waves as Jimin takes the bag from you while Jungkook hugs his mother tightly. “And call me when you get there.”

“I will, Mom. I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay?” Jungkook kisses his mother’s cheek and takes a step back as you approach.

“Oh, sweetheart! It was so nice meeting you,” Aera is nearly in tears as she wraps you up in a tight hug. “Call any time! Come visit whenever.”

“I will. I promise,” you say as she gives you one more squeeze. Dae stands on the porch, waving at the two of you as Aera cries.

“Honey, the kids will be back before long,” Dae comforts her, rubbing her back as she places her head on his chest.

“Momma Jeon,” Jimin hollers. “We love you!”

Aera laughs wetly through her tears, waving at Jimin and Seokjin as you and Jungkook climb in the car. Seokjin has his playlist loaded, and ready to go and Jungkook is quick to hand you an earbud the moment your seatbelt clicks.

When Seokjin pulls out of the Jeon’s driveway, he starts belting Christmas carols again.

“Just because the holidays ended, doesn’t mean the spirit has passed,” Seokjin states firmly as he keeps his gaze on the road.

Jimin slumps in his seat, his noise-canceling headphones doing their job, a present from you and Jungkook.

In the car in front of you, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok pass around snacks from their parents. Mrs. Park and Mrs. Jeon made them a special batch for the trip back home and the men were digging in greedily.

“Next time I’ll drive us up here,” Jungkook assures you as he laces his fingers with yours.

“We carpool!” Seokjin interrupts, his eyes locked on Jungkook’s in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, sir!” Jungkook responds before giggling beside you. Seokjin rolls his eyes but smiles fondly as he catches your gaze. He winks at you before his eyes return to the road, and he belts out a high note rivaling Mariah Carey’s.

Impressive.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” Seokjin asks for the third time as he helps Jungkook unload the trunk.

Jimin got dropped off first a few minutes ago, and now Seokjin was at Jungkook’s apartment.

“It’s no big deal,” Seokjin assures you, but you shake your head.

“Jungkook and I are gonna split Momma Jeon’s food,” you grin as Jungkook takes his luggage to the porch and returns for yours.

“Alright,” Seokjin nods as he hugs you. “I’ll text when I get home.”

You return his hug before Jungkook joins in, squeezing the both of you before Seokjin licks Jungkook’s cheek.

“Ugh!” Jungkook wipes his cheek with the back of his hand. “Must you?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I brushed.”

You laugh as Seokjin gets in his car and drives away. Jungkook flips him off before turning to you.

“I call dibs on the brownie bites,” he smirks.

“Hey! Seojun made those for me!” You exclaim but Jungkook is already running to the front door to claim his prize while you run after him, laughing into the home.

Jungkook clings to you as you head for the door. A pout on his lips as he snuggles into your shoulder.

“Are you sure you have to go?” He asks for the third time in five minutes.

You’ve divided the brownie bites, most of the leftovers, and stolen two of his sweatshirts that you stuffed in your suitcase.

“I have to get back to my dorm room,” you remind him as he kisses your cheek.

The last time you were in his apartment you were still fake dating. Now that you were dating for real, it felt more comfortable for you to laze around with him. Plus, you got to cuddle in his bed with him for a little while, but now you had to head back to the dorm.

Laundry was calling, and you had to prepare for the start of the semester in a few days.

“I know,” Jungkook sighs in resignation as he takes your suitcase and wheels it onto the porch. You slide your shoes on while he pockets his keys and helps you out of his apartment.

A few minutes later, he rolls your suitcase to your dorm. You thank him with a kiss on his lips.

“I’ll let you get settled, baby,” Jungkook smiles as he hugs you again. “I’ll text when I’m home. We can have breakfast tomorrow.”

“I’d love that,” you grin as you kiss his lips again before he leaves you be.

You get in the shower minutes later. However, it’s not until you’re getting dressed in one of Jungkook’s sweaters and a pair of comfy pajama pants that the realization hits you.

You miss him.

You spent nearly three weeks sleeping in his arms, and now you were in your bed alone, staring at the ceiling. The semester hasn’t even started yet. How would you get through it?

Sighing, you do your best to fall asleep.

Hours later, you’re still tossing and turning. You’re miserable as you huff and stare blankly at the ceiling. You didn’t think it would be this difficult to sleep without Jungkook beside you. Even his snoring would lull you to bed tonight.

You love the way he looked when he slept. His cute lips were still in a pout as he snored beside you. His body was like a furnace when he wrapped around you, always snuggled into your side for warmth and comfort.

How long would it take you to fall asleep without him? How long could you go without him at your side?

This was something you’d have to get used to though. You were still early into your relationship, and your dorm room was yours for the semester. You couldn’t abandon it to run to Jungkook’s arms every night. You didn’t want to rush but you also missed being around him day in and day out.

Your phone rings on the nightstand where you left it to charge before you showered. You turn on your side and reach for it, not surprised to see your boyfriend calling.

“Hey baby,” he says softly once you answer. He’s in bed with the covers up to his shoulder, but you can see a bit of skin when he pulls his pillow closer.

“Hey,” you greet him, ignoring the sadness in your chest.

“In bed already?” He asks with a teasing smile.

“It’s cold,” you laugh as you pull the covers closer.

“Is that my sweater?” He laughs when he spots the logo on your chest. You rush to cover it with your blanket, and Jungkook laughs harder.

“I may have borrowed it,” you explain. “Without asking.”

“It looks better on you anyway,” Jungkook smiles as he takes in your soft smile and the way your eyes sparkle even in the dim light of your dorm room.

“I think so too,” you stick your tongue out at him, and he does the same. Your heart flutters and your stomach fills with butterflies. He was your boyfriend now. Yours. The thought makes you nearly swoon but then the sadness seeps in. Slowly first, and then it seems to seep into your bones until it fills your very core.

Suddenly, your throat burns like an inferno as you try to swallow the sickly feeling of loneliness. Were you being ridiculous missing him so soon? Was this too much too fast?

“Darling?” Jungkook whispers with concern etched on his forehead in between his furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, clearing your throat.

Jungkook can tell from your tone and your sudden change in demeanor that you’re lying.

“Talk to me, baby,” he encourages gently.

“It’s dumb,” you try once more to wave off his concern as you sniffle. Dammit.

Jungkook frowns. “Nothing you could ever say is dumb. You don’t have to tell me if you truly don’t want to, but I am here for you if you wanna talk.”

You nod, biting your lower lip as you debate telling him.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips. “I miss you.”

Jungkook’s taken aback. That’s not what he expected you to say, but only because he was sure you were ending things between you now that you were home. Okay, maybe he had been spiraling a little before he called you but only because he missed you desperately. His empty bed wasn’t the same without you in it and he didn’t want to overstep by asking you to stay the night or a few nights at his side.

Hell, he’d ask you to move in if he was sure he wouldn’t get shut down.

“I miss you too, darling. That’s actually why I called,” he admits bashfully.

“Oh?”

Jungkook nods, his hair falling over his eyes. You smile at him through your phone.

“I was wondering if you could sleep at my place tonight,” he pauses. “O-or I could go to your dorm.”

You remain silent as the fluttering in your chest grows rapidly.

“Or not, if you’re not comfortable,” Jungkook rushes when you don’t respond immediately. “We could just forget I said anything.”

“Jungkook,” you say his name softly with a smile.

“Come pick me up in ten minutes, okay?”

Jungkook nods excitedly with a smile. “Yeah! Totally! I’ll be right over, babe.”

“Drive safe, Koo. I’ll grab a bag of my things and wait for you, okay?”

“Yes, baby. I’ll see you in a bit,” Jungkook blows you a kiss before he hangs up.

You kick the covers off of you as you grab a duffel bag and pack your things.

A second later your phone dings.

[Kookie 🖤🍪🖤] babe, pack some extra clothes

[Kookie 🖤🍪🖤] I cleared a drawer for you in my room 🥺

You squeal in excitement! Why was your boyfriend the cutest? You want to laugh and cry at the same time but you sniffle and respond to his text before running around your room to pack your bag.

Ten minutes later, you meet Jungkook at the entrance of your dorm. He smiles brightly when he sees you.

“Hi, baby,” he greets you with a kiss on your cheek before he takes your bag and slings it over his left shoulder. His tattooed hand reaches for yours as you greet him.

“Sorry for getting you out of bed so late, darling,” Jungkook apologizes as he opens the car door for you and waits until you’re buckled in to shut it. He opens the back door and places your bag on the seat before shutting the door and jogging to the driver’s side.

“Jungkook,” you grab his hand before he starts the car. You wait until he meets your gaze. “I missed you. I don’t think I could have slept without you beside me and I’m glad you called. I’m glad you came to get me. Don’t apologize.”

The smile on Jungkook’s face makes your heart flutter as he cups your face and leans forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss is slow, unrushed, and passionate as he deepens it and his hand grips your thigh. You moan softly when he tugs lightly on your bottom lip before releasing it and ending the kiss.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers with one last peck to your lips.

Jungkook folds your clothes as you get ready for bed. He places them in the drawer he’s cleared for you with a smile and a flutter of his heart. He’s got a purple toothbrush in the bathroom for you beside his black one.

When you climb into his bed, he lets you cuddle your favorite stuffed animal of his.

“Good night, baby,” you whisper as he wraps his arm around your waist and the purple bat you’ve chosen to cuddle in front of you.

Jungkook kisses your shoulder, his hand gently rubbing your hip.

“Good night, darling,” he replies. And it is a good night. A very good night as he sleeps soundly beside you.

In the morning he’ll wake up well-rested with you snuggled in his chest, your leg twined with his and he’ll watch you sleep for a while. His fingers will gently brush your hair out of the way, and he’ll trace the curve of your lips with his thumb.

Jungkook will wonder how he’ll sleep tonight without you at his side, how he’ll sleep this peacefully with you nestled in your dorm room.

However, one day he’ll wake beside you and know the two of you never have to part again.

For now, he’ll focus on your time spent together in bed, on your soft breaths and cute face pressed into his chest. He’ll rub your back gently, and picture the rest of your lives together.

#fic: home for the holidays #fic: hfth #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook drabble #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader insert #jungkook x y/n #bts christmas #bf!jungkook

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saradika-graphics · 4 months

Note

hii, I was just wondering, would it be okay if I give credits to you on the pinned post for my shared blog? I'm new to tumblr, sorry if it's a weird question, just want to be sure since you said in rules that it's either post or tag I forgot the last option oopies I feel bad if I end up spamming since your works are cute!

If it's alright and you are comfortable with, can I request for ribbon/bow dividers? pastel pink, purple and blue if possible please. <33 take your time! thank you for accepting my request in advance ^^

Yes that is absolutely fine! Thanks so much for asking 💕 Any sort of credit is fine with me, whatever is easiest for you! I made some pink ribbons/lace ones here! So I recolored them with the pastel purple and blue as well for you! 💜💙

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

#fic dividers #aesthetic dividers #tumblr dividers #dividers #type: dividers #theme: aesthetic #color: pastel #color: purple #color: blue

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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months

Text

Everything I ever wanted

Pairing -> Husband!Tony Stark x Wife!Fem!Reader

Word count -> 2K

Summary -> During your pregnancy, Tony couldn't keep his hands off you, and neither of you could get enough of each other. Now that your twin boys are born, he wants nothing more than to have you pregnant with his babies again, and he'll let you know exactly how he's planning on doing that.

Rating -> Explicit (E)

Warnings -> Established relationship ~ Husband/Wife, age gap ~ 10 years, references to breastfeeding, use of pet name ~ Gorgeous, references to pregnancy/childbirth.

Smut -> Breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, Daddy kink, drinking of breastmilk (sexual), dirty talk, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, implied aftercare.

A/n -> My deepest appreciation and love goes out to @ccbsrmsf1 for helping me with the ideas for this fic because this couldn't have existed without your help! From listening to my ideas to bringing in some of your own, you have helped me a lot! I love you so much 🩵

A/n 2.0 -> My requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I'll be looking forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again 🩵

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Read on AO3

You're sitting on the couch with your son, Joseph, watching TV and breastfeeding him. Next to you is your husband, Tony, holding the other half of your beautiful twin boys - Jacob. While your attention is divided between your son and the TV, Tony can only focus on one thing: the taste of the delicious milk your body produces.

It was relatively early on in your pregnancy that you and Tony found out he had a lactation kink, and as soon as your milk came in, he was nursing from you to get the edge off.

And now, as he's sitting on the couch next to you, there's nothing else he would rather do than wrap his pink, plump lips around your sensitive nipple to get every last drop of the precious milk he so much desires from your body.

"Careful before you drop him while you stare," you joke, and a bright red flush spreads over his cheeks as he knows he got caught staring. He adjusts his hold on his son, who is comfortably snuggled up in his dad's arms during his nap.

It's good that Joseph was quickly done drinking because while both boys were down for their nap, Tony pulled you into your shared bedroom for his fill of your milk. Soon, you're completely bare on the bed while he has one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth, sucking and drinking from you as moans tumble from his lips.

One of his hands has found its way between your legs, his thick, long fingers slowly thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb giving some attention to your clit. It's not enough for you to cum yet, but with him drinking from you, your pleasure is very much heightened in the process.

His clothes are strewn across the floor, and his hips are rutting against the soft fabric of the sheets to give himself a little relief, too. His cock is achingly hard as he tries to alleviate some of the arousal he's feeling, not wanting this to be over before it even starts. A deep moan escapes your lips when he changes the angle of his fingers, finding your sweet spot effortlessly.

"D-Daddy!" you exclaim as one of your hands squeezes his bicep, leaving small crescent moon-shaped indents where your fingers are, the other laced in his hair, pulling roughly as your orgasm threatens to wash over you with a powerful force.

"C'mon, Gorgeous, cum for Daddy," he coaxes you, and it doesn't take much more for you to fall over the edge finally, his fingers thrusting in and out at a brutal pace, his thumb stimulating your clit to work you through and prolong your orgasm all at the same time. A deep groan falls from Tony's lips, reverberating through your entire body as he sucks the last drops of your milk out of your breast.

"Look at you, such a good girl for Daddy," he purrs at you before removing his hand carefully and climbing up, capturing your lips in a soft, sweet kiss that has your head reeling in excitement.

"I'm fortunate to call you my wife, Gorgeous, and you're such a perfect mama as well for our boys," Tony tells you as he places small kisses from your mouth to your jaw and neck. Before he met you, he would never have thought he'd ever have a kid of his own, let alone two at the same time.

Tony has been working in his lab for most of the morning while you're sitting in the large bathroom attached to the main bedroom on your floor of the Avengers Compound. Your phone is in your hand as you're waiting for the timer to go off, which seems endless. Your eyes are shut as you nervously await the test results, secretly hoping for a positive result.

It has been about two months since you and Tony got married, and even though you never talked about having children - with Tony still busy as he saves the world as Iron Man - it's something you've been wishing for. Every birthday, every Christmas, your one wish was to become a mother, and the universe is finally swinging things your way.

The alarm finally goes off, and you quickly grab the test, which shows a very clear positive. You're pregnant and can't wait to tell your husband this fantastic news. With the test in your hand, you practically run through the building and down to Tony's lab, where he is tinkering with yet another one of his projects.

When you're at the door, Jarvis automatically opens it for you, and before Tony can even lift his head your way, you're already throwing yourself around his neck, sobbing from pure excitement.

"I'm pregnant, Tony! We're going to be parents!" you exclaim after pulling away, and you see a slight hint of fear on Tony's face before a wide smile appears, and the earlier emotion is nowhere to be seen. He is going to be a Dad, something he has never even given a second thought to until now.

"Are you- Wait, are we going to be parents? Oh my god, I'm so happy right now!" he says before grabbing the backs of your thighs and placing you onto the workbench, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. The positive test is long forgotten as it drops to the floor, and Tony makes love to you right then and there.

"You'll be so beautiful when you're pregnant, all round with my baby, these tits all big and full with milk. Can't wait to have a taste of it, Gorgeous, want to nurse off these fucking tits every single day," he tells you between the rough, short thrusts. When both of you are completely spent, you collapse against Tony with a content smile, knowing you'll be starting a family in a few months.

He has been such a supportive husband throughout the pregnancy, from rubbing your feet when they got sore to listening to your endless rambles; he did all of it without a shadow of a doubt. And now, after a long delivery, you're both holding your twins in your arms. Jacob, the firstborn, and his brother, Joseph. They are identical twin boys, and both carbon copies of Tony.

As he looks at them, he feels a love that he can't explain. It's something he's never felt before, but he knows he will do anything and everything to protect his beautiful boys. And to know he has made these wonderful humans with you, the love of his life is the cherry on top.

As he thinks about the way you looked when you were pregnant, he knows he doesn't want to wait for another second but instead, he wants to be buried deep inside you to get you pregnant again, breeding you until you're dripping with his cum between your thighs.

"Can't stop thinking about how fucking hard I get when you're pregnant for me, Gorgeous. Having my babies growing in there has me going crazy," he tells you as he guides you comfortably onto your back, your hair spread around your head like a halo. You're looking up at him with love- and lust-filled eyes, biting your bottom lip in anticipation of what's coming.

He pulls your lip out of its soft grip with his thumb before grabbing it between his own, nibbling softly before pulling away and releasing the soft flesh from the gentle grip. A slight whine escapes your mouth as you get restless, needing to be filled by your husband before the twins wake up from their nap.

"What do you think, Gorgeous? Shall I fuck another baby into this perfect pussy of yours? This tight, warm cunt I love to be buried in? Spilling every last drop of my cum into it until it sticks, and you're pregnant for me, giving me another baby or two?" he asks as he guides your legs up, and you grab them by the backs of your thighs so you're beautifully presented for him.

"Maybe we'll make a little girl this time, what do you think? Having a little Princess to make our family complete," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he lines up with your entrance, your slick dripping out at a steady pace as you're getting more and more turned on by his words.

Without a single warning, he slides it into the hilt, and you clench down on his cock, feeling every single ridge and vein on his thick and long member inside you as you adjust to his size. Even after giving birth to the twins, it's a little bit of a stretch, and the moan leaving your lips is almost pornographic.

"Yes, Daddy! Please, fuck another baby into me; wan' all your babies and be pregnant for you all the time," you beg him, and that's all he needs to hear before setting a brutal pace, sitting back on his haunches as he holds your legs so far they're almost touching your shoulders, only intensifying the pleasure you're feeling.

With every thrust, he hits the perfect spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, driving you extremely close to the edge without tipping you over just yet. Your hands are gripping the sheets tightly, and Tony can feel himself getting harder inside you as he watches your breasts sway back and forth with each thrust.

"Fuck, Gorgeous, you're gripping me like a damn vice, 'm gonna cum for you! Take all of your Daddy's cum like the cumslut you are," he growls before letting one of your legs go and instead opting to give some love to your clit as well, which turns out to be your undoing. A wail of his name is enough to send him over the edge, too, making him fuck every last drop of his cum inside of you.

"Jesus, fuck! Take it, Gorgeous, take your Daddy's cum like you're meant to; gonna keep you pregnant for me all the time. Always want this delicious milk of yours," he says as he works both of you through your orgasms before collapsing next to you and panting heavily while some of his load drips out of you, your pussy unable to keep it all inside.

After he pulled out, he looked at the mess you had both made before scooping some of the cum with his fingers and shoving it back into you, not wanting to waste a single drop of it.

"We have to make sure it sticks, Gorgeous; we don't want to take any chances," he tells you as you gasp from overstimulation, but you also love it. By the time he's done, he lets you clean his fingers, and you moan contently at the faint taste of his cum that's lingering on them.

"I love you, Gorgeous, more than I'll ever be able to tell you," he says before pulling you close. You two lay like that for a few minutes before it's time for a shower, where you both wash each other gently, being careful of any sensitive areas.

It turns out that Tony's sperm is a lot stronger than either of you could have ever anticipated because nine months later, you're in the hospital again, and you have given birth to two beautiful identical girls, who are exact copies of their Mom. Baby Sophia and baby Olivia are your family's newest members, and they complete it.

When it's finally time to go home to your little boys, Tony can't help but look at you as you're getting one of the twins ready. What came out of his mouth, however, is something you didn't think he'd ever ask, though it doesn't surprise you either as you burst out into laughter.

"So, can we make another one?" he asks with a straight face, and it makes the moment perfect. His humor is one of the things you fell for; even in moments like these, you'll never get sick of it.

"Maybe later; right now, we have to take our girls home," you say with a content smile as you rub your thumb over little Olivia's cheek. You have never felt more in love than you do now and never want to leave the beautiful pink cloud you're sitting on.

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saradika · 7 months

Text

Masterlist Headers + Matching Divider Sets

edit: as of 11/20/23 this will no longer be updated - please go to @saradika-graphics for requests & new resources!

FANDOMS

Star Wars

— Andor (The Eye)

— Dark Blue (& R2D2)

— Din Djarin

— Din Djarin & Boba-themed (Star Wars)

— Endor (Forest)

— Pastel Colors

— Pink/Mauve (Star Wars)

— Poe Dameron

— Red & Orange-themed

Marvel/DC

— The Batman

— Blue Beetle

— Bucky Barnes

— Marvel Inspired

— Loki Inspired

— Miguel O’Hara

Games/Series

— Astarion (BG3)

— Call Of Duty

— House of the Dragon

— The Last Of Us

AESTHETICS

— Ace (Moon/Stars)

— Alchemy

— Bi-Pride Colors

— Blush Romantic

— Burgundy & Gold

— Constellations (Blue/Green)

— Cottagecore / Dark Academia

— Forest-themed

— Golden-themed

— Halloween

— Hyacinth

— Maroon/Purple Witch

— Misty Forests

— Orange-themed

— Seasonal Aesthetic

— Skulls & Lace / Skeletons

— Taupe and Teal

— Yellow-themed

✨(Everything was made in and using Canva - so definitely check that app out if you’re looking to make your own! Here, here, here and here are some tips on using the app / making graphics if you haven’t before!) (and credit is not required but a reblog would be great if you use! 💕) ✨

#pulled from canva colored/arranged by me #dividers #fic dividers #graphics #masterlist headers #tumblr dividers #headers

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒃𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍

🍯our little farm masterlist🍯

summary - the reader gets a call from her parents, they ask her to look after their farm and hopefully get their newest addition to mate with the cow hybrids. what happens when it's not the cows bull ari sets his sights on, but instead, it's the reader?

warning - interspecies, dumb bimbo reader, angst, smut, swearing, fluff, creampie, breeding kink, voyeurism, spying, masturbation, dirty thoughts, slight manipulation, talks of masturbating.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, and the dividers are by @royalsweetteaa and @firefly-graphics

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING

You yawned, walking groggily to the kitchen. You felt the exhaustion settling into your bones from the long drive over. Your parents had asked you to come and look after their farm whilst on vacation. They explained that one of their newest additions is refusing to mate with the cow hybrids. You happily agreed, having nothing better to do where you lived.

Your hands rub your eyes, walking over and starting the coffee machine. Your plump breasts practically spill out of your soft yellow nightie, the lace ending just below your ass as you lean over to grab the ingredients for your breakfast. Your cute pink mug is filled to the brim with vanilla-flavoured coffee. You take sips and prepare some banana pancakes with a side of oatmeal covered in yoghurt and berries.

Once everything is prepared, You walk outside and sit down. You take in the sunrise and the beautiful colours of the sky as you eat. Not noticing the newest addition staring daggers in your direction, his head tilted to the side as he tried to figure out who this stranger was. His darkened blue eyes take in your skimpy pyjamas, tongue flicking out as he appreciates the sight. And it finally clicked. Ari knew that you were the one he wanted to mate with, not these whorish cows that kept throwing themselves at him.

You hum as you finish breakfast, your belly full as you stand. Heading back inside to prepare for the day, you walk to the kitchen, placing your dishes in the sink before heading to your room. You pull out your skimpiest denim shorts— the perfect pair that hugs your ass— and a tiny white shirt— one that forms perfectly around your plump breasts.

You giggle as you pull your clothes on before bending over to put your cute little farmer boots on. You get up and head into the bathroom, brushing your teeth before returning, feeling ready to get to work. You make your way out of the house and head to the crops to tend to those first.

After all the work you have done, you feel dirty. But that doesn’t stop you from heading to the animals to care for them. You don’t notice that you are being watched, too busy smiling at everything around you. You wave when you see the neighbours. Having met the owner and their helper Colin, you’ve learnt they have the same problem with their bull Ransom. You won’t admit it, but you’ve had dirty thoughts about Colin. Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips as you think of him all dirty and on top of you. The many nights you’ve spent with your vibrator between your legs with the thoughts of him there instead were too many to count.

As you pass the cows, you smile and wave. “Hey, ladies!” You continue to giggle as they wave back, happily strolling through as you work. When you enter Ari’s closed-off area, you look around curiously. You’ve never met a bull hybrid before. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before you jump, as a huff can be heard from the side of you.

You turn, and a giant smile appears as your eyes connect with beautiful blue ones. “Hi! I’m Y/n! You must be Ari!” You squeal, stumbling closer to him. Your eyes are wide as you take in his giant form, practically drooling at his bulging muscles and the panty-dropping defined lines across his stomach. You stick your hand out, feeling giddy with being in his presence.

Ari’s brows furrow, puffing his chest out, and he notices how your eyes follow the movement. His large hand fills yours, shaking it slightly. He takes in your form, seeing how much tinier you are to him. “L/n’s daughter?” You nod, soft giggles escaping you as you take in the nasty scar on his face before following it and looking at his golden rings.

“Yeah! I’m looking after the place!” You grin, “Apparently, I’m supposed to help you mate with the cows?” Your brows furrow, pouting as you try to figure out how to do that. Your head tilts to the side, looking up at him with confusion. “How do I do that?”

“You don’t know how to…?” Ari tilts his head also, studying you. How you look at him with a dazed look is different for him. “What if I told you that it’s better and healthier for a bull to mate with a human instead of a cow?”

You blink, eyes widening even more. “It is?” Ari nods, holding back the smirk that desperately wants to appear. “Huh… My dad never told me that… Okay…” You nod, believing his words as he seems older than you. Your eyes slowly drag down his body, stopping at the spot between his legs, brows furrowing as you become curious. Ari watches as a look of wonder appears on your face, he opens his mouth to ask you what you're looking at, but a sound of shock leaves him as you slither your hand through the fence and poke his softened cock. “Aww! It’s so cute! Hello, little guy!”

Ari huffs, feeling shocked and offence shoot through him as you continue to coo at his cock. He utters what the fuck as you just stare at him wide-eyed. A grunt escapes him, gaining your attention back up at him. His brows are raised. “Are you done?” Your lips go between your teeth as your eyes flicker back down before connecting with his eyes again, a slight nod following. Ari huffs, his eyes take in your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You frown, looking down at your outfit. “What’s wrong with this?” You look back at him, doe-eyes filled with tears, plump lips pouted as you tug on your shirt. Unknowingly exposing your cleavage to him, your thighs clench at his rough look.

“It’s too… It’s not proper for the farm, but… Never mind, you wouldn’t take advice from someone like me anyway.” Ari turns, holding back his smirk as you call for him to wait. Your soft voice was begging for his advice on what to wear. He turns, facing you again with a straight face. “Well… A nice short dress would be easier to work in…” He clicks his tongue inside his mouth as he watches you stare up at him, eyes still clueless. “But, if you want to be seen as a disappointment….”

“No! I don’t! I will change into the appropriate farmwear tomorrow!” You babble, gripping the fence as tears fall from your eyes.

“Good girl.” A smile appears on your face at Ari’s words, feeling pride beaming inside you. You say your goodbyes before skipping back to the house, feeling your stomach grumble. Never having felt so free before, you enter the kitchen, gather ingredients for dinner, and begin to prepare some pasta, your mouth watering as the scent of food enters your nostrils.

Once the food was ready, you served yourself a bowl and sat down. You scoff it all before getting up, walking to the kitchen and placing the bowl into the sink, ensuring all the dishes are clean before groggily heading to the bedroom. You strip until you are completely bare and unknowingly give the hybrid outside a show. Ari’s hand moves up and down his massive cock as he watches you strip from your dirty clothes. Your soft hands glide down your nude form, and he grunts as he covers his body with his cum.

You climb into your soft bed and fall into a blissful sleep.

The sound of a rooster wakes you from your slumber, and you roll over and groan. Burying your face into your fluffy pillow, you can feel your muscles begin to relax again as sleep tries to take over. Slowly, you get out of bed and head into the bathroom. You turn the shower on and wait for the water to become boiling hot before getting in.

A sigh of relief escapes you as the water begins to relieve your tense muscles. You wash your hair and body, ensuring you are clean and ready for the day before hopping out and drying yourself. You head back into your room and open your closet, pulling out a tiny checkered white and blue dress that fits snugly against your body.

You pull it on and place a white headband into your hair, pulling your boots on before heading into the kitchen. Repeating what you did the morning before, starting up the coffee machine and making yourself some breakfast. Once everything is ready, you sit outside and enjoy it all. Finishing your food and coffee, you head inside and place them into the sink before heading back out to begin work.

You skip around, tending to your chores and harvest some fruit that appears to be ready. As the day passes, you snack on the cherries in your basket, heading to where the animals are and waving to the cows as you pass them by. You make sure they have everything they need before you go to check on Ari, hoping that he approves of your outfit.

Ari’s eyes are locked on your lips when you enter, licking his lips as he watches you slowly bite into the cherry. His eyes slowly move down and take in your dress, huffing in approval. “Hi! Did you sleep okay?!” You squeal, skipping closer to him. You happily chew on the cherries as you beam up at him, hoping you’ve made him proud with your dress. “Did I do good? You were so right about it being easier to move in!” Your doe-eyes blink as you wait for him to answer.

Ari smiles, straightening his back as he stares down at you. “You did well. You’re such a good girl for listening to me.” He smirks slightly as he watches you clench your thighs together, his praise getting to you. “But I do need you to do something for me.”

You launch forward, eyes wide. “Anything!” Ari bites his lip, having to think of something else as he feels his cock twitch.

“I accidentally dropped something over there and can’t reach it. Do you mind grabbing it for me?” You nod, practically buzzing as you wait for him to tell you where it is. He clears his throat, and his ear twitches as he holds his desires back. “It’s just over there.” You nod again, quickly heading over to where he’s pointing and bending once you’ve found it. A groan slips from Ari’s lips as your glistening cunt is in view, and his cock begins to swell and grow as he stares.

“Here it is!” You stand, holding the bell in your hand, before turning around and bouncing over to the giant creature. Your eyes fall on his hardened cock, causing them to widen as your mouth opens in shock. “Where’d my little guy go?” You pout as you stare before looking up at him, saddened that he’s gone.

Ari blinks, slowly grabbing the bell from your hands and placing it over his head. The cool metal rests against his neck. “Sadly, he won’t make his appearance until I’m empty, but unfortunately, I don’t have a human to mate with for that to happen.” Ari pouts, pretending to be sad.

A whimper escapes you. “I can help! I’m human!” You whine, batting your eyelashes up at him as you pout.

Ari shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t ask you to do that, and it has to be someone extraordinary to be able to be filled by me.” His head lifts when a sob leaves your plump lips. He notices the heartbroken look on your face.

You nod sadly. The feeling of happiness that you felt had been drained. “Oh… Okay, well… Have a good day.” You give him a sad smile, turning to leave.

His brows furrow, quickly reaching out and grabbing your wrist. “What, no. Why are you leaving?”

You turn back and look up at him. “You said it had to be someone extraordinary… I know I’m dumb, but I also know when I’m not wanted.” You sniffle, smiling through it all.

A sigh leaves his lips, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean you weren’t special, I thought you’d turn around and say you were, but obviously, I should’ve just accepted your offer to help.”

You blink up at him, the tears brimming as you pout. “Really? I’m special enough to help you?” Ari nods, and a giant smile appears as you bounce up and down. “I’d be happy to help, Ari! Please, can I help?!” Ari feels his cock twitch at your eagerness and the sight of your wide eyes. He nods, causing you to squeal and quickly go to the gate, opening it and entering his area.

You excitedly skip over to him and crash into his large body, his massive cock pokes your tiny form, and you can feel your knickers dampen from the feeling. Ari grabs you and lifts you as if you weigh like a feather. You feel your cunt throb as he does this. He carries you over to the stacks of hay. Ari sits and places you on top of him. He groans at the feeling of your bare cunt touching his swollen cock.

“You want to be split open by me, little one?” You nod, whimpering and gripping his bulging biceps, humping your dripping cunt onto his throbbing member. “But, you’re such a tiny little baby. How could you possibly fit something as large as my cock in your small hole?” He taunts, hands gripping your hips as he moves your body.

You whine. “It’ll fit, please. Stuff me full of you!” Your head bobs up and down, repeatedly repeating ‘it’ll fit’ as you babble. Your head falls back, feeling blissed out before the fun begins, and your nails dig into his flesh. “Please! Force your cock into my small cunt! Fill me to the brim! Please!” Your eyes roll back as Ari lifts you and begins to push his thick tip into your hole. A pornographic moan leaves your lips as your cunt swallows his cock.

“Oh! Jesus fuck! You’re so fucking tight! Much better potential for a mate than those whores over there!” He huffs, nostrils flaring as he stops his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. “You think they’ll be jealous that I’m stuffing you with my massive cock and not them?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you bounce up and down his cock, soaking him entirely with your juices. His large hands help fasten your pace, pounding up into you. “My good girl! Soon you’ll be full and carrying my babies! Do you think your dad will be proud of you for helping me?”

Your mind is fuzzy, lazily nodding your head before planting it into his neck. “Wan’ be full o’ you” Your words come out jumbled, barely finding time to breathe as his cock splits you open but in a good way. A whimper escapes you when Ari pulls the front of your dress down, causing your plump breasts to bounce free. He launches forward, latching his lips onto your aroused nipples. His tongue swirls around them, licking and sucking. Your hands move up and into his hair, gripping and tugging as you are overwhelmed with pleasure.

His swollen and full balls slap against your ass, and his arms wrap securely around your waist as he slams into you faster and harder. One of your hands moves toward his horns and grip tight. Screams of pleasure escape you as your walls tighten and squeeze his throbbing base, desperately trying to milk him dry.

“M’ close!” You pull your body as close as possible to him, feeling yourself spasm around him.

“Cum, little one!” The moment those words fall from his lips, your back arches, and your cunt sucks his cock deeper inside you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and for a moment, you black out as your juices squirt out of you, covering him and everything around you both. “Fuck! You feel so fucking good! Ready for me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Yes! Please!” Whimpers and groans escape you both as large amounts of cum spurt out of Ari, and deep into your womb, there’s so much that it begins to leak out of you and onto his lap. “So good! So good!” You hold onto him, whining as you feel him in your stomach. You sag into him as the exhaustion sets in.

“You did good, little one. Get some rest. I’m not done with you yet.” He whispers, stroking your hair as a whine leaves you, feeling his cock begin to harden and grow inside of you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 10 months

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Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 1: A Platter of Grapes (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 1: A Platter of Grapes

The Red Keep is graced by an old, familiar presence.

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

Warnings: Extremely, and I mean extreme slow burn lol, Daemon and Y/N both being little shits who cannot stand each other, I have a blood feud with the HOTD costuming department for Rhaenyra and thus I go into extreme (probably historical inaccurate) detail about the clothes of the characters, Rhaenicent hints so faint that if you blink you’d miss it

Word Count: 3.3k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: A special thanks to all those who have reblogged my ‘Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia’ related posts 💗 your support is truly appreciated and has been the source of my smiles over the past few days

lovely dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics !

105 years after Aegon’s Conquest

Queen Aemma’s chambers was a busy hive of activity, as usual. The queen’s serving girls, ladies-in-waiting, and Grand Maester Mellos went in and out of the Queen’s apartments in a constant rotation, fussing over the heavily pregnant Aemma’s every need or discomfort. Aemma herself was exhausted at the constant fussing and prodding, but Viserys was deeply concerned about the babe in Aemma’s womb - which he insisted with vehement conviction was a son, and therefore must be treated with the utmost level of care, and after five failed attempts at producing an heir, Aemma had learnt over the years that to be overcautious was not necessarily a bad thing.

Aemma sat sprawled on her lounge, occasionally grimacing when a sharp ache rippled through her body should she choose to adjust herself. Clad in a simple white linen shift and an intricately embroidered rose pink robe of Myrish silk and lace, she felt beads of sweat beginning to form at her temples once more. Her pregnancy had cursed her to endure bout after bout of severe sweating, despite the fact that it was nigh autumn and the ladies of the court had taken to long sleeves and wrapping shawls around their shoulders. Closing her eyes and dabbing at her forehead wearily, she sincerely hoped that the babe in her belly would be the boy Viserys had so longed for, if it meant that she would stop being plagued with the labours of pregnancy.

Her tired expression fell in an instant, replaced by a radiant smile as a woman dressed in a light green linen gown with long bell sleeves walked into her view, nodding politely to the exiting Grand Maester. “You finally came back,” Aemma joked lightly, watching the woman take a seat on the cushioned stool next to Aemma’s recliner. “I was afraid you got sidetracked and forgot about my grapes.”

The woman’s (Y/E/C) eyes flickered with amusement. “I could never dare forget about you, my queen. You would have me beheaded and my head placed on a spike if I did.” Aemma let out a laugh as she reached over to pluck a grape from the bowl in Y/N’s hands. Y/N shook her head at the queen’s lack of dining decorum, but offered up the much awaited platter of grapes to Aemma’s eager hands regardless. “And pray tell, what shall I do if I had executed my favourite and most competent lady-in-waiting, hmm?” Aemma jested, shoving three grapes into her mouth. It was definitely not something a queen should be doing, but Y/N had been Aemma’s lady-in-waiting for nearly two years, and her friend for far longer. Decorum was not a concept that existed between the two of them.

“You flatter me, Your Grace. And slow down, the grapes will not fly away.” I chided gently, as Aemma continued shoving three grapes at a time into her mouth. “The grapes won’t, although I’m afraid Rhaenyra will. Didn’t she say she would come to see me at first light? It’s nearly midday.” Just then, like clockwork, a commotion could be heard near the entrance to the Queen’s apartments. Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent Hightower’s voice could be heard laughing together among the subservient voices of the servants greeting the two of them. “Speak ill of the Stranger,” I laughed, as Rhaenyra and Alicent appeared in view, smiling with their arms linked.

Rhaenyra was wearing a silk gown of soft gold, with butterfly sleeves. The bodice had a ribbed triangular corset that was cinched at the waist, and the skirt parted at the middle to reveal a layer of dark crimson brocade, with faint scrollwork detailing in tiny golden threads. A similarly coloured velvet shawl patterned with gold-threaded dragons was draped over her shoulders, to protect her from the chill. Meanwhile Alicent was clad in a gown of light blue worsted yarn, with bell sleeves going to just above her wrists. A thin layer of cream muslin peeked out of her sleeves and ruffles of the same material covered her collarbones modestly. Blue roses were sewn around her waistline, and olive leaves were embroidered around the neckline of her dress. I suppressed a smile when I noticed a garden violet tucked between Alicent’s reddish brown locks, and a similar one nestled in the princess’ white-blonde tresses.

Rhaenyra immediately went over to Aemma, Alicent staying a respectful distance away. “Your Grace,” Alicent smiled and curtsied politely to Aemma, and Aemma greeted her warmly, “Good morrow, Lady Alicent.” “Mother, Y/N”, Rhaenyra crouched down next to Aemma, holding out a hand to stop me when I stood up to offer her my seat.

Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose when she noticed her mother clad in such thin clothes, and started detangling her shawl from her shoulders, but Aemma only shook her head with an affectionate smile and stilled Rhaenyra’s motions by cupping her cheek with one hand. “It has been quite long since first light, has it not? You have forgotten about your poor royal mother, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, though her voice was tender. “Forgive me, Mother. But the weather was far too lovely for me not to take Syrax out for a flight. She has been growing lazy as of late.” Aemma snorted softly, adjusting a braid that had loosened from Rhaenyra’s hairdo. “Now that explains the dragon stench overwhelming my apartments then. You are lucky that Y/N was kind enough to accompany me during your absence.” “Is it not my duty, my Queen?” I teased, “Unless you find my company repulsive, of course.” Aemma pursed her lips thoughtfully, although her eyes were filled with mischief as she said, “Your company is delightful as always, although the waiting time for my food to be brought up is quite outrageous.” “Then I shall pray to the Seven that they might bestow on me the power of flight to serve you better, your Grace.”

“Seven hells!” Rhaenyra cursed, fumbling in her pockets. “Rhaenyra! Language,” Aemma scolded. “What is it?” I asked, concerned. Rhaenyra groaned in frustration, “I had a present for Mother, but I must have dropped it in the throne room when I was showing it to father yesterday.” “How careless,” Aemma chided, although her tone was soft as Rhaenyra bit her lip and hung her head slightly. She must’ve really wanted to give the present to Aemma.

“Why don’t I go retrieve it?” I offered, standing up and smoothing my dress. “The kitchens are but a stone’s throw away from the throne room, and I am certain Your Grace’s appetite for grapes has not yet been sated.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes shone with gratitude, “Yes please! Thank you, Y/N.” “Tis nothing, princess. What does it look like?” “It’s a necklace, with a ruby falcon pendant, ” Rhaenyra described, “I got it to remind Mother of home.” “Oh Rhaenyra,” Aemma murmured softly, a soft look of love flooding her face. Rhaenyra held her hand tightly, “There was a sapphire one, but I thought the ruby one would be fitting. For both your Arryn and Targaryen roots.” Aemma squeezed her daughter’s hand, “I will cherish it fiercely forever, as I do with all your gifts.” My face took on a wistful expression as I watched mother and daughter interact and I spoke softly, “Worry not, princess, I will find it and bring it here.”

I retreated out of the room, returning Alicent’s smile with one of my own as I passed her on my way out of the room, but not before Aemma called out to me, “Make sure you make haste! Your queen desires for more grapes!” “Of course, my Queen!” I called back, grinning.

The throne room was blissfully unguarded, which signified the absence of the King, and by extension, any nosy courtiers who might frown upon me fumbling around the throne room like a sneaking rat. ‘Perfect, no need for awkward pleasantries then.’ I opened the double doors leading to the throne room, shutting the doors with a heavy thunk. My eyes took a while to adjust to the gloom of the throne room, but I nearly let out a shriek when I saw a shadowy figure sitting on the throne room. Was that the king? And if so, why in the Seven Hells was he sitting in a darkened throne room?

“Byka zaldrīzes,” an all too familiar voice called out. My heart thumped furiously in my chest as my mouth dropped open in disbelief.

No. No way. He was somewhere floating around in Lys, if court gossip was to be believed. It couldn’t be him.

“Won’t you come closer? It’s only been 8 years since we last saw each other. Surely you haven’t forgotten me.”

Daemon Targaryen. Second son of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, younger brother of king Viserys, and the most annoying royal pain in my ass.

His petulance and near unnatural ability to be able to get on every single nerve in my body had caused me to become a devoted practitioner of self-restraint, given how badly I longed to throttle him or slit his throat with a dagger whenever he was near me. But much to my consternation, societal propriety rendered me unable to challenge him in a duel or even brawl with him, like most boys would do to sort out their differences. But even so, it was not in my nature to silently endure the countless pranks and jests he tormented me with, and thus I often paid him back tenfold for every misdeed he committed against me. My mother was chagrined, while Prince Baelon and Viserys merely laughed and observed our antics with much amusement, along with the rest of the court.

My lips twisted in a frown, and my heart still beating fast from the initial shock, I walked closer to the Iron Throne. “As much as I’d like to, your memory still leaves an unwanted stain in my mind.” The figure sitting languidly on the throne leaned forward as I approached, making me finally catch a glimpse of the boy whom I used to detest with every fibre of my being. Although he certainly bore no resemblance to the annoying brat I detested.

Gone was the lankier frame of his youth. In his stead, it was a man, of tall stature and strong muscular frame, honed by years of intense sword training and puberty. His hair had lengthened considerably since the last time I saw it, and my lips twitched in amusement as I remembered how I had once cut it off when we were children as retribution for him dousing me with a bucket of Arbor Gold while he and I were sneaking around the Red keep late at night, him claiming that he had something interesting to show me. I treasured the memory of that deliciously girlish scream he let out when he realised I had dared cut his precious white-blonde locks. His face had lost its roundness over the years as well, becoming lean and chiselled, lending a harsher quality to his expression, but it only seemed to accentuate his daring and dangerous beauty, or at least, if you listened to the giggles of the twittering ladies of court. His eyes, still filled with that same mischievous glint, watched me as I stood in front of the throne, raking over me shamelessly. I rolled my eyes at that, at least some things never changed.

“Ah, but you remember me nonetheless.”

“The emphasis was on the word ‘unwanted’, your Grace.”

He laughed, leaning back against the throne leisurely as he stared at Y/N. ‘It was a sheer marvel his body was not littered with a thousand cuts by now,’ Y/N thought, a scowl on her face.

“I see the years have finally taught you some manners. I couldn’t remember the last time you addressed me formally. You always had some rather…colourful turn of phrases up your sleeves, however. Maybe the years of looking for a prospective marriage match have taught you some decorum.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, the vein in my neck beginning to tick in annoyance, as it always did around him. “You know they say, people age slower when they get married. You are living proof that the saying is false.” He let out a throaty laugh, crossing his legs as his voice took on a mocking tone. “I see your lack of marriage prospects have turned you from sour to bitter, byka zaldrizes.”

I bristled, “Stop calling me that. Why are you here?” “I heard there was a tournament being held in my honour. I should be in attendance since all this heraldry was made on my account, should I not?” “The tournament is for the King’s heir.” Daemon learned forward again, his tone edged with menace, and defiance. “Precisely as I said.”

I shook my head, duly unimpressed. “There is no need for you to be sitting on the Iron Throne though. Tis not your place.” Daemon scoffed, “And who are you to command me? I am a Targaryen prince, I sit where I please.” “The King would disagree with that if he were here.” I fired back.

Suddenly, I remembered I was here on an errand, not for idle chat, so in a huff of frustration, I turned away from the offending prince and began to search the halls for a glint of red anywhere. “Running away, byka zaldrīzes?” I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to punch him in his smug face. Calm down, Y/N, you already did that once, and by the Seven Hells, the consequences were absolutely not worth it. “Unfortunately, I am here on an errand, not for childish bickering, your Grace.” I heard a faint sound of footsteps behind me, but I ignored them as I continued to pace around the vast empty room. No sign of any necklace at all. I groaned internally. Perhaps I should’ve asked Rhaenyra for more instructions before taking on the task.

“Could the errand be this?” I whirled around, finding the Prince in far too close a proximity for my liking, a smirk on his lips and a necklace with a ruby falcon dangling from his raised right hand. My eyes widened, chest sagging in relief as I beheld the necklace. “Yes. Oh thank the Seven,” I reached out to grab the necklace, but Daemon only snatched it back. I let out a strangled noise of frustration, “Hey!”

Daemon leaned in closer, pressing me against a pillar uncomfortably. “Thank the Seven? I think that they shouldn’t be the one you’re directing your thanks to,” he murmured softly. Goosebumps broke out on my skin, as I glared into his eyes. His infuriatingly, inhumanely beautiful purple eyes. Damn him. “Back up.” I hissed. Daemon seemed to take it as an invitation to lean in closer, his face was mere centimetres from mine now. My breathing became more uneven, feeling a mix of frustration and another strange feeling I couldn't place. “Are you going to punch me again if I don’t?” he whispered softly, his eyes sparkling with deviousness and mischief. “Yes,” I hissed.

“However, if you take a step back, I might find it in me to thank you for your nosiness in picking up things that do not belong to you.” “Yet if it were not for me, you might have needed to scour the whole of King’s Landing to find this little trinket.” He withdrew from me with a smirk, and I huffed, glaring at him. “Well? I’m impatiently awaiting your gratitude, byka zaldrizes.” Gritting my teeth, I finally bit out, “Thank you, Your Grace. Will you please return me the necklace now? The princess is in need of it.”

A rough laugh escaped him. “Now that’s more like it. You’re very welcome, my lady.” He dropped the necklace into my waiting hand, eyes watching me as I clasped the falcon pendant in my hand and internally praised the Seven for being able to find it, although through an unconventional method. “You changed a lot, you know,” he said, his eyes still studying my face. “That’s to be expected. It’s been 8 years. You have changed too.” “You’re quieter,” he observed. “Well, I can hardly scream at you now that we’re both adults, can I? I have a reputation to maintain.”

The prince scoffed at that, “Reputation. Lady Primrose always stressed about that. I didn’t think you’d take her lessons to heart.” “She was my mother, Your Grace. And she is correct about the importance of reputation, especially as I am chief lady-in-waiting to the queen now.” I chided him. He chuckled darkly, “The topic of reputation is not one I much care for. You should know that better than anyone, my lady.” I raised my eyebrows, “Is that why you came back to court without Lady Royce then?” Daemon rolled his eyes, “That boring cunt is the least of my worries. Court is already dreadfully dull. Should I need to suffer in her presence for any longer, I might just mount my own head on a spike.” “I always thought you a warrior, but it seems you are a coward in the face of marriage.” I mocked. I could see Daemon’s face scrunch up with anger at my claim, and I smirked, relishing in how he still had the same sore spots he did when we were children. Classic Daemon.

Daemon felt fury bubble up in him, like a kettle dangerously close to boiling point. Seeing her smirk however, made him forgo his initial angry outburst and settle for a sharper, more hurtful one. “Bold words for someone who keeps rejecting marriage proposals. If there’s anyone who is a coward, I would say it’s you, my lady.” The vein in my neck was probably protruding to the high heavens by now. I longed to yell at him, like I always did back in my girlhood, but I couldn’t, because he was right. Yelling would only prove his point and allow him the pleasure of gloating. I was not about to rise up to his bait. Turning away from him, I walked out of the hall briskly. “It was a pleasure seeing you, your Grace, but I’m afraid I must be off. I hope we never have the misfortune to cross paths again.”

My hand was on the brass door handle when I heard him call my name once more. “Y/N?” Rolling my eyes, I kept my back turned away from him. “Yes, your Grace?”

“I was sorry to hear about Lady Primrose’s passing.” I stiffened at his unexpected condolences. I hadn’t thought about my mother in a very long time. “She was as much of a mother to me as she was to you” I tilted my head downward, closing my eyes for a brief moment. “It has been 7 years since she passed. There is no need to offer your condolences…but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Daemon heard the doors to the throne room slam shut. His eyes still cast on the door Y/N had just left from, he tilted his head slightly. A soft chuckle resonated through the throne room. ‘Same old Y/N’, he thought to himself, a smile curling at his lips, ‘but…different somehow.’ Oddly enough, he felt his heart twinge for some reason at her sudden departure. He had not realised how silent these past 8 years have been, not until today.

Queen Aemma was delighted with her daughter’s present, although a bit put out that her lady-in-waiting had arrived back at her chambers with no grapes in sight. But observing the mildly murderous glint in Y/N’s eyes, Aemma wisely kept her mouth shut. She wondered what had happened to make Y/N so annoyed, but then she let slip an amused chuckle as realisation dawned on her.

Daemon.

translation: byka zaldrīzes: little dragon

And that’s the first chapter! If you loved it so far, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 should be out in the next week or so! Let me know if you wished to be added to a taglist in the comments or through this form

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anitalenia · 19 days

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₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 / 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

credits to me. feel free to use and save. of course credit would be appreciated but it is not required. I’m just making these for fun <3

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andydrysdalerogers · 9 months

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The ABCs of Nick Vaughn - "Y"

Pairing: Reader x Nick Vaughn (Before We Go)

Summary: Children its time to learn your ABCs. And Nick Vaughn is here to teach you the lessons. 26 glimpses in the world of you and Nick Vaughn

Warnings: S-M-U-T!!!! (under 18 please leave the chat!) descriptions of sexual activity including some themes of BDSM, loss of virginity, fluffy bits, pet name etc...

The new upload will probably be Sundays. Have fun kittens! Also, the tag list is open!

A/N: There is just one letter left and I am excited AF!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: X - X Rated

ABC Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Y – YOLO

From Nick’s POV

I married her.

I finally got to fucking marry her.

When she walked down that aisle towards me, fucking gorgeous in her gown, I thought it was a dream. My girl was an angel walking towards me and I thought I had died and gone to heaven. But no, she stood next to me, and we vowed to love each other forever.

Now, after an epic party, I’m sitting here on a plane to Paris, my girl asleep on my shoulder, in first class. And a thought crossed my mind. A rather dirty one. See, I splurged and got us the best first-class tickets money could buy. The last tour paid me big and with the re-release of the album, YN and I will be comfortable for the rest of our lives.

And we have a cabin in the sky.

I’ve always wanted to join the Mile High Club.

Always wanted sex on a balcony or in a dark corner of a library.

Fuck, I just want to take my girl wherever my heart wishes.

As the ideas manifested, YN shifted in her seat, waking a little. “What time is it?” She asked in that adorable sleepy voice.

“It's about 1 am,” I replied. “We still have about four hours left on our flight.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m gonna wash my face.” She grabbed the complimentary toiletry bag and headed to the bathroom suite. Yes, this plane had a fucking suite for a bathroom. And now, I can put my plan into action.

I move quickly with her when I notice there are no attendants in the area. As she opens the door, I gently push her in. “Nick...” I cut off her protest with a hard kiss. She moans into it, letting me in. I taste her, my wife, God that sounds so good.

“You have to be quiet, Mrs. Vaughn,” I whisper against her lips. I pull back to see the glassy eye expression she gets when she’s aroused. “Wanna join the Mile High Club with me?”

Her eyes widened, focusing on me again. “Nick, we can’t...”

“We can if we’re quick enough, baby.” I turn her around and lift the bottom of her skirt up. She had changed from her wedding dress, which I had been able to fuck her in before the reception, and now was wearing a beautiful black skirt and pink blouse. I reached for the black lace panties I know she has on and slid them down her legs. I bent her over the sink and ran one finger up and down her slit.

“N-Nicky,” she studders. “S-sensitive.”

“I can tell,” I whisper. She’s so pink and wet and trembling, “you like this don’t you, sweetheart? You like the thought of someone hearing us.” She nods softly. I undo my pants and pull them down with my boxer far enough so I can run the tip over her skin before sinking into her, hard. I slap a hand over her mouth just as she lets out the most delicious sounding moan I have ever heard.

I rut into her, hard and fast. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and I know I’m hitting the right spot. I let go of her mouth and reach down to rub her clit. I can feel myself sliding in and out of her and my god, it makes it so much hotter. “Cum for me,” I whisper in her ear.

Her head rolls back against my shoulder and she lets go, silently, losing the scream in her throat. It has to be one of the sexiest things I have ever fucking seen. I love it so much that I cum right there and then.

I kiss along the back of her neck as I slowly pull out. I grab some napkins to clean her and myself before I bring up her panties and pull her skirt down. I can see the mascara marks from her ecstasy tears. “Clean your face baby and I’ll have some water, champagne and snacks for you.” I kiss her lips sweetly.

I make it back to our seats and hit the call button. The flight attendant rushes over and takes my order. I sit back with a smirk, reading my book. My girl comes back, looking refreshed with a hint of pink on her cheeks. The attendant brings us everything and sets up the table.

After they leave, YN whispers, “why did you do that Nick? I mean, it was good but...”

“YOLO.”

“What?”

“You only live once, my love and I want us to live in this marriage. I love you!”

“I love you.”

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling @firephotogrl74 @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @tinkerbelle67 @atoosa22

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans #the ABCs of nick Vaughn #nick vaughn x reader #chris evans fanfiction #nick vaughn smut #nick vaughn x you #before we go au #chris evans fic #chris evans smut #chris evans au

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mamasturn · 2 years

Text

dirty dancing.

pairing: austin!elvis x black!fem!oc (cynthia)

warning: sensuality. talks of segregation. use of the terms “colored” but before anyone flips, i am a black woman. again, this is MY version of elvis cause, i’m not necessarily a fan of him irl and won’t portray that. saw this in the theater again and wrote while sitting there. it was mesmerizing. ps posting on this account to see if it'll show up in the tags lol.

song: that’s all right mama by big boy crudop. meant to be the slow sensual version seen in the movie.

wc: 1,285

masterlist.

pic creds to @enchantinglyjade <3 divider creds to @firefly-graphics

Bodies packed in like sardines. Sweat dripping from foreheads, backs, and forearms onto the slick floor beneath them. Heavy breaths and sighs of pleasure as bodies bumped against one another sensually.

Lustful eyes from the men. Adulterous touches from the women. Sweet whispers of the things they’d love to do behind closed doors.

It was a sight unlike that she’d ever seen before. She was a good girl. She went to church on Sundays and revivals during the weekday, wearing knee length dresses and long-sleeved cardigans, singing praises to the Lord and thanking Him for His goodness. She’d experienced the Holy Spirit in many ways—the shaking of hands, the stomping of feet, the warmth of her body.

However, what she experienced was nothing close. Her mother would be so disappointed. She exchanged her modest clothes for a short red dress that she’d only been caught dead in. Her coarse hair that was typically pinned up rested beneath her chin and framed her face beautifully.

Her back was cold against the wall. Out of the way she stayed. The woman she came with had found herself dancing with another man in the corner. She knew they’d be fornicating real good that night. She fought off a smile.

The song changed. A familiar tune that she’d heard only twice before. Her father forbade the “new-age” music, sighting that it promoted bad behavior and would influence her in the worst way. He was nowhere to be found, however, and she found herself humming along to the smooth guitar of Cordup.

“That’s all right, mama.”

“What’s a pretty lady doin’ huggin’ the wall?” a gasp fell from her lips. Her movement was restricted, as a strong body was in front of hers. Her head encased by a strong arm. The arm of a white boy, the only white boy comfortable enough to be in the presence of dozens of Black people. Elvis Presley, he was called. The white boy with the moves of a Black man. She’d only heard him on the radio and seen pictures on newspapers while passing stores on the way to school. They couldn’t afford televisions. Not that they’d sell one to a colored family, anyway.

“Uh-I—It’s my first time here. Not much into dancin’, sir,” she replied. Her voice trembled and wavered. He oozed sex appeal and it made her nervous. He wore a pink lace shirt tucked into loose fitting blue pants. His greasy black hair was slicked back with a few fallen pieces. Smudged liner and full lips, he was a beautiful man.

“Sir? Makes me sound as old as my daddy. Elvis Presley, darlin’, nice to meet ya. What’s your name?” His voice stirred unknown feelings within her. She found herself releasing a breath she didn’t know she held.

Colored people were expected to address all people, especially white people as “sir” and “ma’am” no matter what. Even a child. It was a haughty condition. “Cynthia. Shouldn’t you be elsewhere, Mr. Presley?” The way his name rolled off her tongue hand his fingers clenching against the wall. “Not talkin’ to a colored girl in a colored club. You could get in trouble. I could get in trouble.”

“Them laws don’t apply here.”

She scoffed. “They don’t apply to you, Mr. Presley. They will always apply to me and my folks. You should be dancin’ an’ prancin’ with one of them pretty white girls.”

A laugh fell from his lips. She was right, and he knew it. The segregation laws in the south were strict, that he understood. More than willing he was, however, to challenge them from a night with the shy, brown girl perched against the wall.

“That’s all right for you.”

“You’re prettier than them. Pretty eyes, pretty lips, pretty little shape.” His left hand cupped her hip gently. Cynthia jumped at his touch. She lifted her eyes and finally met his. A lump forcibly traveled down her throat. He stared her down like a lion at his prey. He was enchanted by her brown eyes, thin eyebrows, plump lips coated in red lipstick, and curvy shape. She was gonna be his by the end of the night. “Dance with me.”

“I don’t dance, Mr. Presley. Hence why the wall been my best friend all night.”

His lips grazed her ear. “I’ll teach ya. Jus’ move to the music.” He turned her around, pressing her back against his chest. His arm found her waist, his palm resting against her inner thigh. The short dress hiked up at the movement and his fingertips massaged her skin.

All of her mama’s teachings went out the window in the blink of an eye. From shouting praises to smiling at the sweet nothings from a man who was the devil himself. Her knees felt weak as their bodies pressed against each other. Her hand fingered through his dark locks as his lips kissed at her neck.

“That’s all right, mama.”

His grip on her thigh intensified and she felt his name trying to creep from behind her lips. It fumbled from her mouth without her consent. With the newfound pressure against her bottom, she knew he didn’t mind.

“Just like that, baby.”

Cynthia smiled at the pet-name. She never would’ve guess a man, let alone a white boy, would have her feeling warm and fuzzy in the middle of a hot, sweaty night club in the heart of Memphis.

“…just anyway you do.”

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the club. They brushed passed waiters, dancers, singers, and fellows with limited self control. They wound up in an empty room in the back.

“Elvis—“ she was silenced by his mouth on hers. She was outdone, she’d never kissed a boy in her life. Their lips moved together messily and the sound of heavy breaths and teeth clashing filled the air.

She was pressed against the wall, her leg hiked against his hip, his body slotted between her lush thighs. There was an unfamiliar pounding between her legs that ached to be soothed. She found herself pressing against him, whimpering as her sensitivity brushed against his belt buckle. A chuckle fell from his lips.

His large hand cupped her neck, turning her head to the side as he nipped along her sweaty skin. Her small hands gripped his shirt as their bodies came as close as they could with their clothes on. Teasing fingers threatened to sneak into her garments. Her warmth was captivating.

“Mr. Presley,” Cynthia whimpered. “this isn’t right. We can’t.”

“We can. A little dirty dancin’ never hurt nobody, mama,” he said lowly, searching for her eyes in the dimly lit room. “Here—I want you to call me.” He let her leg fall as he dug in his pocket for a crinkled sheet of of paper and a pen.

“How many women do you gift your number to?” Cynthia questioned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I may be a colored girl but I’m not a fool like y’all think I am. You not gon’ fool me, Mr. Presley. I’m already risking a lot being in this damn closet, let alone lookin’ like a fool waiting for you to pick up the phone while you live like a rollin’ stone. Don’t give me this paper if you’re not gon’ pick up.”

She was shy, reserved, but she was smart. She’d never let someone make a fool of her, and that he could tell. He couldn’t do it if he tried, there was something about her that wouldn’t let him be the typical playboy he was.

��I won’t, darlin’, hand to God,” he raised his right hand, which he used to tilt her chin up. He kissed her gently. “then maybe we can have another night of dirty dancin’.”

i’m posting this on this acc cus it won’t come up in the tags on my other acc (saturnville). i usually do poetry on this acc but hey, gotta switch it up sometimes lol

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler!elvis #black reader

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timmymyluv · 2 years

Text

act three

act three of the let others wage war, you, happy child, marry series

future tsar/romanov prince! timothée chalamet x danish!princess reader/oc

series masterlist

main masterlist

act one.

act two.

word count: 4.1k

warning(s): kissing, making out (nothing too steamy) more yearning that's all, vague sexual references if you squint

summary: your seemingly uneventful life meets a turn when you are faced a proposition that will propel you into the centre of a glittering empire as you wrestle with the prospects of leaving home or being with the one you love.

notes: a romanov au based on the grandmother of Anastasia- Maria Feodorovna. also based on the Danish Royal Family who were elected into the position and married into prestigious families and dynasties, with Christian IX her father known as the "father-in-law of Europe" during the 19th century.

side note: please lmk if you would like to join the taglist for any of my series/soc med aus or anything I upload! I lost track the first time but please send it again so I can organize it tysm 💕

"You don't turn your back on your destiny.”

― Trine Villemann, Queen of Deception

What you were expected to do next, is probably what your mother trained you her entire life for. After spending another breakfast alongside the Tsarina, this time without your mother, you were to spend your next few afternoons in the library with Timothee.

Besides from your introduction by the staircase and your brief altercation with you dropping your book, you have not spent any private time alone with the Russian heir one to one without his attention divided with your numerous family members.

You made your way through the marble halls, whipping your sweaty palms as you trembled in anxiety towards the library. With ribbons in your hair, braided as it’s split in the middle of your scalp before its pinned on the nape of your neck, you thought you looked like a show pony up for auction.

Pink ribbons that complemented the all-white dress you wore, jacquard organza, with bell sleeves decorated with dotted lace and a plain pearl white chiffon belt around your waist. You found it a little superficial that you had to be dressed to the nines to get his attention, but you closed your eyes as you stopped behind the oak doors, taking a deep breath before you swing the door open towards the library.

Absorbed into the leather spined book on the mahogany table, Tsesarevich Timothee did not hear your arrival. As you clear your throat, he looks up at you from the desk, astounded as he shuts the book and stands up to greet you with a polite bow.

“I apologize I did not hear you enter the room, Dagmar.” His cheeks flush in embarrassment and you can’t help but smile at how much younger and more childlike he seems suddenly, even with his dignified appearance and garments.

Walking towards him so you sit across from him on matching oak chairs, he elegantly strides over to usher the seat for you, inviting you to take a seat before him, ever a gentleman.

“Why, thank you Timothee. “ Minnie graciously nods in gratitude with a meek grin. In the absence of footmen usually doing announcements and assisting as your mothers unanimously agreed you both would be alone, devoid of your older brother Freddie in the other room.

As he sits from across from you, you hesitantly don’t know where to place his hands or what to say. He notices your discomfort, affably trying to find common interests in the encyclopedia he was reading.

“I have been engrossed for hours in this library, it is filled with such a magnificent collection. Do you usually read here often?”

“Very much so, Timothee. It’s my second home, my escape from everything around me. I like reading anything, probably more than my siblings. However, I am currently reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.”

“Yes, I have read that myself. Are you enjoying it so far?”

“I am eager to finish it soon but I would not call it among my favourites.”

He arches his eyebrow in curiosity, more unconstrained once he felt that you were less guarded with him.“Is that so? What else has been occupying your time, Minnie of Denmark.”

You ramble on for what seems like hours on end on your ongoing interests, from the new dress patterns you have been trying, the meals you have been cooking up in the kitchen (even if you can now easily afford an entire array of chefs and maids in the palace), to the economic, philosophical and even political works in the abounding library filled with both ancient texts and new literature fresh off the press.

For the next few weeks up to the month, this has become part of your routine to spend a few hours in the private library with Timothee. In your own private nook and cranny, you’re both surrounded and intellectually yet also emotionally and mentally stimulated by lush, carved marble with golden leaves and statues intricately molded.

It is between these halls where you truly get to know him, from his fondness of his family even within the wintry coldness of the aptly named Winter Palace, how he adores his only sister Maria among his rowdy brothers.

He shared with you how it was like in the Imperial Russian royal court, from the elaborate court dress and protocol, the ceremonies, the holidays, the symbolism and the complexity of a world that is so unlike the one you know.

The way Timothee described the ornate halls in the Tsarskoye Selo palaces, from the Malachite Room where Russian Grand Duchesses prepared for their matrimonial ceremonies, the remarkable itinerary from his past Grand Tour of Europe, from the vastness of the kingdom he is to inherit, the range of people he has met who will one day be ruled under his wing, the places and cultures he has explored.

A certain tinge of jealousy formed from within you, but the compelling way he would unravel stories to you, from thoughts and ideas into spoken word, like the written poetry he had gradually introduced and shown you, fascinated you more by the day. You longed to get out of what felt like a plain cage in your tiny Denmark, you loved your country more than anything. You would die for it.

Yet you could see the genuine admiration he had for your passionate, incongruous tirades for hours on end on what you sincerely cared about. From your avenue in swimming, rare for noble women and even less regular to be taught by a female swimming coach, ice skating by the lake and racing with your siblings - to the new economic and political theories emerging in universities where you longed to go in place of your indifferent brothers, new dress sketches, ribbons, laces, pearls, the places you wanted to go and what you wanted to do in the future.

Yet you could not get rid of this inner knowing, this unspoken urge, almost your intuition or insight on your fate and potential - that you were meant for greater things. You were meant for the extravagance of life, not just a plain soldier’s wife like your sisters would be satisfied with. You would never be satisfied, there was always a hunger in you that would not be quenched, fulfilled and fed to fullness.

With Alix en route to becoming Princess of Wales and future Queen of England, one of the great powers of Europe, then is it not only fitting for you as her younger sister to have a fate as befitting as hers? It felt wrong thinking that you would throw yourself to whatever eligible heir to try to one up your own flesh and blood, but there was more to it that you could not fully comprehend.

As the weeks continued and you became closer than ever to the Russian heir, it is an accumulation of built up tension and almost - longing, passion and unspoken emotion that is always present between the two of you. It grows, it lingers, it festers, no matter how much you try to kill it and you can visibly see him suppress himself as he would, a proper, respectable gentleman raised only with the finest breeding.

“Tell me what a typical day in your tutoring sessions looks like?” Minnie inquires curiously, lounging on the golden loveseat with her palms folded under her chin as she kneels on the cushion and looks at him with wide eyes.

“My mother is thoroughly involved in my education, from the selection of my tutors, the content of my curriculum, the traveling itinerary when I am actually out on the field rather than locked up in a palace. Both my parents have always emphasized to me that my role is privileged yet it is a duty, a responsibility to improve the lives of those who look under me. To be a public servant and not be indulgent in the trappings of wealth and revelry, is my goal as future Tsar of Russia.”

…

Nearly reaching a month of when your library concussion became regular, you and Timothee dug deep into the halls of the aged library, having read, thoroughly discussed and explored the shelves closer to the main entrance by the oak table.

You were scanning thoroughly through the bottom shelves, brushing your fingers against the harsh spines of the pressed books, while he was up a few steps on the metal ladder, skimming through a few pages of books until he would find what he was looking for.

“Be careful you might fall off, Timmy.” You tease him partially, but downplaying the concern you had for his safety as you gripped tightly on the ladder for support.

Over the hours you have gotten to know him closely and without formalities, you have been able to peek beyond the facade of the guarded, romantic Russian heir and become familiar with his sense of humour and unfiltered thoughts, dreams and aspirations, beyond the role he was raised to inherit.

Shaking his head as he clambers down, he struggles to get his footing back on the ground before nearly colliding into you. The sheer force of the weight and holding back the ladder as he panics.

You stride backwards haphazardly against the staircase, with his body pressing against yours, with his palms around your shoulders to soften the blow of impact, and a gentle hand on the side of your head in case any books fall over.

Out of breath as your heart beats so loudly you can hear it echo in your eardrums, his breath warm against your skin, his nose touching yours and your mouth a millimeter away from his. Timothgee’s shaken expression turns into unabridged yearning, wanting to kiss you but not without your permission. Not like this.

It was never proper for any respectable gentlemen, more so a royal prince, to make any advancements without a formal proposal. You attempt to speak up or push him away from you, but a part of you is frozen in place and has your words caught in your throat, eyes dilated in adoration. The scent of his aftershave lingered and you wanted to hollow yourself into its embrace.

“I-I sincerely apologize, Your Royal Highness.” Closing his eyes in restraint before he smooths the ruffles of your dress, pacing away from you unable to meet your eyes before he bows and leaves the room abruptly. It’s hard to deny the stinging hurt and conflict heavy on your chest as you recollect your breath, and fiddle with the loose curls in your hair.

Stumbling into the closest upholstered chaise, you let out a breath of incredulity as you brush your fingerprints against your lips, feeling the ghost of what could have been. Your meetings with the heir are abruptly interrupted as you are too overwhelmed to see him in private without a crowd of your families and delegates present.

…

“What if- what if she does not fancy me the same way I do?” Timothee asks, slamming down the French language newspaper he is unable to focus on and read as he sits by the reading table in his guest bedroom.

Alexander, or Sasha, his younger brother by only a year, had finished his yearly military training before following his brother and mother to their excursion in Copenhagen. Taller, broader, with much more roguish and defined features than his delicate, almost ethereal, elfin brother, whatever differences they had could not be overcome by their unchanging bond.

“No fool of a woman would refuse your advances, Tim. Besides, if you were to propose on bended knee to anyone from the street, whether it be from the Almanach de Gotha or the brothels, it would take a blind man to not see how her eyes speak of love to you in the same way.” Sasha retorts, crossing his legs as he lounges them over the table, throwing in a grape from the bowl next to him languidly as he looks out the window.

“She is a beautiful girl-”

“You act as if I have not seen her at the balls and the brunches we have attended in her home country, or worse, I have been subject to your hours of pining over you as you sing songs of praise in her name and declare her the love of your life even from the few photographs you had of her.” Sasha teases, dropping his legs and turning to face his brother with a pestering expression.

He dodges the embroidered pillow Timothee throws at him facetiously, earning a chuckle from both before the elder leaves the room to reach for his parchment and his treasured, personally engraved inked fountain pen.

In his absence, Timothee misses Alexander’s apprehensive frown towards the scatter of carte-de-visites of Minnie’s image.

…

The cold, icy silence is broken in only a few days, as the time is ticking before his departure, with a full bouquet of pink roses and carnations by your front door, delivered not by your Danish maids but by his personal secretary and a few of his staff members.

“Your Royal Highness, these are from His imperial Highness, Grand Duke Timothee Alexandrovich, ma’am. If you would so kindly accept, he has intricately put these together for you.”

“For me?” They all nod in expectation, blinking at you expressionlessly before you miss the beat and graciously take the bouquet in your arms. Just as they bow politely to their absence, your ladies-in-waiting about to shut your bedroom door before you interrupt them to pick up the note inserted that fell down on the floor.

“Dear Minnie,

I apologize for the impropriety of my behaviour since the last time we had met and have only parted since. I ask humbly to implore your kindness to forgive me and give me one more chance to be blessed with your company. If it pleases you, please send for a single white peony flower to be delivered to my bedside this morning, and I plead that you meet me at the same drawing room of the library we have become so accustomed to in the last Sunday before my decampment.

Yours,

Timmy”

Your heart fluttered that he had dropped the rigid formalities he had resorted to since you had last seen him in the flesh, still coming back to the nicknames that had sounded so natural to your tongue and felt like home.

A singular peony flower was found by his bedside the following morning.

…

You have been on edge recently, restless and numb all around as you pace around your bedroom, pondering whether you go outside again and risk bumping into him before you are emotionally prepared to do so.

In your velvet riding cape and with your riding shoes laced up tightly, you peer through the cream coloured curtains and you could already feel the tinge of regret if you do not ride in view of the perfect sunset, scattered in warm pinks and bright oranges.

Sneaking past your distracted handmaidens, you furtively make your way towards the stables to ride with your beloved white stallion. Mounting on your horse masterfully, you tug on the leather straps before your horse Winter gallops eagerly towards the gorgeous fall weather outside.

The breeze of fresh air hits your face suddenly, and you smile at the soothing sensation it gives you that nearly knocks off the tiredness and sleeplessness you have been fighting since you last saw Timothee. As you attempted to enjoy the scenery before you and the lush, pedicured gardens that you had so loved, you could not escape your thoughts of his acuminous, striking features, from his curved nose, the pink of his fine lips, his dreamy eyes that swirled of gold, of emerald green, and the blues of the seas all at once.

Shaking your head, you tug on your leather straps to quicken the pace of your stallion. You feel the sweat glisten on your brow as the temperature rises and your cheeks redden in flush.

Dried eyes and dark circles hollow your face from sleepless nights of tossing and turning. You cannot ignore the feeling, the butterflies, the thumping, the unintended calm, the peaceful knowing erupting from within you.

What minutes you rode outside the palace grounds felt like hours, even as the noon sun began to slightly dim in the late summer.

Just as you make a final turn to quickly stop over towards the private garden hidden beneath the grazed path that is concealed by bushes and mazes, you catch a glimpse of unruly curls amass a swad of fine silks and satin and you turn around so abruptly you're afraid you have gone whiplash.

Dizzy and discombobulated as you hurriedly race back to your bedroom in hopes of being spared from scoldings from your parents, your swift, quiet riding turns rugged and emphatic.

Whatever efforts you had to avoid your presence being known to Timothee are all in vain when you see him galloping towards you on your brothers horse from the corner of your eye when you turn around.

Light-headed and wobbly as you halt your horse in front of an aged oak tree and plummet down your feet, you catch your breath leaning down and holding on your horses leather stirrups as he approaches you hurriedly.

Feeling humiliated and abashed in your muddy riding gown, untucked hair falling off your lazily pinned bonnet and worn out riding boots, your heart continues to raise from the adrenaline of the chase, yet from the mere presence of him in your vicinity.

"It has been too long, my dearest Dagmar. I cannot hide it any longer, what I feel towards you."

"What!?"

You scold yourself in your head immediately and bite your tongue at your tendency to speak before thinking, yet he is not phased.

"What I feel towards you goes beyond political pressures and dynastic alliances, as I would rather die alone than marry someone out of duty and not love, Minnie." Hearing the hoarseness in his voice as he murmurs your nickname like a prayer feels so right, even when it felt like you were thrown off hundreds of miles spinning in unknown directions as the forked road splits in front of you.

As he approaches you, you notice his lavender cravat is loosened from its formerly orderly knot, slugging along with his unbuttoned cream white shirt, revealing his milky skin.

Seeing the same restlessness and fatigue in his swollen eyes and faint shadow of stubble on his chiseled face, your heart turns into knots that overwhelm you so much you fear you will burst into tears.

As he steps forward towards you, you do not retreat and surrender as your back hits the firm tree trunk, his forehead brushing against yours as his eyes waver anxiously from your eyes to your lips.

"Is it wrong I feel the same?"

You sword you saw him roll his eyes in constrained want, his groans making you feel an unfamiliar wetness between your legs, nearly feeling his arousal harden between your thighs yet his wandering hands go no further than the columns of your curves. Feeling the fabric of your beige cropped Button jacket, you feel want coarse through your veins as you lean in towards him, your lips so close to his.

"May I?"

"I would die if you waited any longer."

He dives in with heated passion, hands tightly gripping around your waist as your palms slide up towards his shoulders and behind his neck. His lips feel warm against yours, exploring wildly as his tongue dances around your mouth yet constrains and softens as his lust is overpowered by a mellow, placid affection and infatuation for you.

Timothée pulls away with swollen lips and dilated pupils that swirl in the hazel, gold and hints of ocean blue that you love so much.

"The days I have left in Copenhagen are numbered but what is most important to me is you do not feel pressured to succumb to any external influences of your feelings to me. Take a few fortnights to think through what I have shared with you, Minnie. If you would give me the honour to be your wedded husband, I would do anything in my capability to make you happy and be loyal to you. Even if it costs my life."

Before you are able to process the heated exchange you have in the shaded, dimming forest, he is gone.

…

“May I speak to Princess Dagmar, please. Alone?”

The surreptitious knocks from the unlocked entrance of the parlor room interrupts your spirited discussions and round of games with your sisters, Alix and Thyra. Alix had just returned from England on her own, having won over the affections of Queen Victoria and began preparations before you were to join her with your family to England for the matrimonial ceremony.

Alix looks at you with a raised eyebrow, almost knowing from her subtle smirk as you pull gently from the hems of her sleeves, but she shakes her head as she stands up and pats your shoulder before she leaves.

“Alix, where are you going?” You whisper with wide eyes.

“You will be fine, dear Minnie. He wants to talk to you alone. Remember what we talked about.”

As your mother Louise answers nearly feverishly, a grin on her face as she courtesies at the Russian heir and dragging your sisters along with her, slamming the door shut just to leave you and Timothee alone.

Minnie stammers, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Timothee approaches you tensely with his arms by his sides, palms interlocked behind him.

A poignant, charged silence occurs between the two of you. You sit there nervously, your skirt splayed out on the upholstered love seat, your words caught up in your throat.

Mustering the courage, he clears his throat as he looks at you, stepping closer carefully.

"Dagmar, I-You-" murmuring under his breath, switching back and forth between your shared English language, before spluttering in incomprehensible French and German that confused you further.

"As you know, the road ahead for me is clearly paved as the future Tsar of Russia and it is a duty that I do not take lightly."

"Yes?"

"Heavy is the crown that one bears and I understand it is not merely a privilege for me to splurge but a responsibility for me to serve my country men. I have met many great men far and wide, of the utmost intelligence, discipline -" as he nervously prances around the room, you stare at him with furrowed brows and a gaped mouth on confusion for his next step.

" You are very kind, Timothee. Too kind, perhaps. "

"Yes, yes." He pauses intentionally, staring at you right in your eyes with an unknown expression. You are drawn into his hazel eyes sprinkled in gold and lush green, under a spell you don't want to break yourself free of.

"And for the future Tsar, in order to rule the kingdom with the right mind and character, no matter how much preparation I would need, I would need a future Empress of Russia." Timothee approaches you, now more relaxed with slumped shoulders. Standing in front of you, hesitantly reaching forward until you offer your hands, clutching his large, slender fingers gently yet firmly and with purpose.

Gulping tensely as you let out a shaky breath and close your eyes to collect your breath, before you meet his eye. You know what exactly he is asking for.

"I had spoken for and asked permission from your beloved parents, His and Her Majesty, if they would grant me the honour of asking for your hand. In their kindness and grace, they only ask that you marry for love and it remains your choice in your choice of groom. If you believe that I am not worthy of your presence, one word from you and I will leave you in peace. I do not promise it will be an easy journey, for the undertaking I am humbly asking of you, but would you accept my proposal that you will become the future Empress of Russia by my side? To be my destined spouse in front of the church, our Father in Christ and our people?"

"Yes! Yes! Without question." You interrupt him suddenly, looking up as you jump on your feet. With your voice highly pitched with your wide eyes and raised cheeks, you leap into his arms with an disarming speed that nearly knocks him off his feet.

Caught off guard, he errors into an overjoyed smile, eyes wrinkled in his unrbidled joy, wrapping his arms around your waist with happy tears brimming from his eyes as you pepper gentle kisses on the apple of his cheeks and brushing over his nose.

Pulling away to stand in front of him, you gently grasp his forearms as he circles his hands around your waist. You exhale slowly, admiring him with gentle, soft eyes and a satisfied grin.

Your life changed forever. Another world opens up to you.

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