#she said she could feel time more keenly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sytoran · 10 months

Text

𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | barbie!wanda

Having been a Barbie her whole life, Wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. Thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

pairing: innocent!barbie!wanda x fem!gynecologist!reader

word count: 2054

warnings: smut (18+), not exactly a dark fic - surprisingly consensual given the circumstances, just barbie!wanda exploring her identity and being corruptibly cute

Wanda didn’t quite know what to expect when she stepped foot into the gynecology centre. It’s to learn more about your body, Natasha had said, urging her to go. The doctors there will help you.

She hopes her doctor is nice.

“Name?”

“Wanda Barbara Maximoff.”

“Your queue number is 476. Please proceed to Room B when your number is shown on the screen.”

“Okay.”

The metal handle of the door is cold.

That’s the first thing Wanda registers when her right hand meets the shiny surface. It’s a contrast to the warm blood that flows within her body, thrumming in her veins and sliding under the surface of her supple skin.

Temperature. Texture. Telltale emotions.

It’s a whole new world, really, with a human body. Wanda certainly isn’t used to existing within one that isn’t Barbie-like.

She can’t jump out a window and fly two floors down without breaking any bones. (You don’t want to know the story behind that.)

She can’t walk out of the house in full-body neon pink, either. (That one can be achieved with a severe lack of others’ opinion, but Wanda gets this human thing they call ‘anxiety’.)

Change.

That’s what it’s called, experiencing new things, and that’s what this is about.

Wanda pushes down the door handle. She can do this.

“First time?”

“Uhm, yes.”

The doctor’s back is facing Wanda, going clickety-clackety on the computer that actually works and is not made of plastic. It’s a female gynecologist, just like she requested. (Wanda loves women! She’s all for strong and independent women.)

Wanda probably staring at the back of the doctor’s head a little too hard, but then the doctor swivels in her chair, finally turning to face Wanda, and turns out Wanda actually can’t do this anymore.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, and I’m your gynecologist.”

(This Barbie is going through gay panic, except she doesn’t know it.)

Of all the things that could possibly happen to her, of course Wanda's gynecologist is the most attractive person she’s ever laid her eyes on.

This was not how this was supposed to go. Wanda’s brain is short-circuiting, and she has this new feeling coursing through her body that causes her heart rate to speed up exponentially. It’s new. And different. And oddly nice.

“Wanda? You alright, sweetheart?”

The blonde snaps out of it with a flushed face, snapping her jaw shut. Sweetheart? Vision – a Ken – had tried calling her that once. She didn’t like it.

Sweetheart.

Wanda decides that she likes the way you say it.

“Yep. I’m right here. Sorry.”

You get this side smile on your face for a moment, something flickering in your eyes as you stare at Wanda, and it causes the biggest shiver to run down her spine.

Wanda’s heart is palpitating uncontrollably. If anyone heard it right now she’d probably die of embarrassment.

You pull out a stethoscope.

F***. (She learnt that word from Tony.)

Wanda’s skin burns under your touch, as you place the medical instrument over her chest, listening keenly to her heartbeat.

The blonde thinks she’s going to pass out, with the way you move your rolling chair over so close your legs could touch hers.

“It’s quite fast,” you murmur, your voice taking on a lower tone, and Wanda has to physically swallow before her heart breaks through the constraints of her ribcage.

“O-oh,” Wanda responds breathily, a lot higher-pitch than she had anticipated, and she swears your eyes darken just a tad bit. (She doesn’t know what that implies. But it’s kind of hot.)

“Turn around,” you continue, moving back slightly to give your patient space. Wanda releases the breath she was holding and steals all the air she can, but when your hands slide up and under the back of her shirt, all that air is lost again.

It takes every cell of Wanda’s existence not to let out a whimper when you apply pressure on the stethoscope, right above the clasp of her bra.

That new feeling has been amplified by a thousandfold, travelling from your touch to her skin to her heart and right between her legs.

(This Barbie is experiencing lust.)

“Alright, I’ve been informed that you’re a rather special case, Wanda,” you comment, not unkindly. “You don’t have any past medical records. So today I just want to check that everything is in good condition. We’ll do a quick pelvic exam to test your sexual and reproductive health, is that alright with you?”

Wanda doesn’t know what a pelvic test is. But she’d do anything you told her to, honestly, so she just nods.

“Okay, so you need to strip and lay down on the bed for me.”

“...Huh?”

(This Barbie is thinking dirty thoughts.)

Wanda is clothed in a blue surgical gown. She doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed for that.

All she knows is that the material is scratchy against her chest (or more specifically, her nipples are all tingly — she’s not quite sure what that means yet, but it feels strangely good), and that your gloved hands are spreading her thighs open on the operating bed.

Her feet meet the stirrup supports at the end of the bed, knees falling open, and the way you move your rolling chair between her legs in a swift motion has Wanda questioning how she ever entertained the idea of liking Kens.

Your hands run down the expanse of her thighs — probably a little longer than you should have, not that Wanda’s complaining — and your gaze locks on the pinkish bareness of Wanda’s pussy.

The reaction is instinctive, non-commital, subconscious. “Uhm,” Wanda whines, trying to close her thighs. She squirms under your inspective gaze, biting into her lip and trying to shift away from the grip of your gloved hands.

She’s so bare, so open, so vulnerable. But that’s not what scares her. It’s the fact that she doesn’t mind, not around you.

You seem to catch wind of this, and don’t release your grip on her thighs.

Wanda stares at you with her heart hammering in her chest. Wide-eyed and flushed. The pulse grows from her chest to between her legs and that’s never happened before.

“Sweetheart,” you murmur, very softly, and Wanda melts like putty in your arms.

Her knees fall open again.

The rest of the examination goes somewhat smoothly.

Save for the embarrassing little squeaks Wanda makes when you peer a little too closely at her cunt, it’s not too bad.

She knows you’re discerning possible signs of swelling and soreness or something along those medical lines Wanda is hardly an expert in, but what’s more concerning is the warm liquid pooling in her lower belly.

Wanda’s never felt like this before, especially not as a Barbie, especially not this vividly.

When that warmth spreads to the tip of her folds, threatening to emerge on its surface, Wanda’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t know what it means that she’s going to be wet.

“All done,” you comment, leaning back, and Wanda’s legs snap shut just as her pussy grows damp, for the first time.

Crisis averted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, almost sadistically, watching her reaction with an amused look. “That’s just the external visual exam. The second part of the pelvic exam is where I get down to the real stuff, yeah? I’m going to have to put my fingers inside you.”

(This Barbie is dangerously close to passing out from skyrocketing levels of libido.)

“I normally use lubricant on my gloved fingers for my patients, but I have a feeling you won’t need it,” you comment dryly, casually tugging off your surgical gloves and tossing them into the trashcan.

Wanda is too embarrassed to respond. Her face is flushed, her nipples are extra tingly, and her pussy is thoroughly soaked at this point.

And you’re just there, sitting between her legs with your hands on her thighs, a very badly hidden smirk on your face.

She kind of wants to slap your dirty mouth. Or maybe kiss it.

“This is a speculum,” you announce, pulling out a metal-hinged tool. “And I’m going to use it to keep your pretty pussy open. Make sure you don’t close up on me again.”

Wanda squeals at your choice of words, slapping your arm in embarrassment. At this point, there’s hardly a need for professionalism, but she’s still not used to the whole thing.

You let a laugh slip from your lips, thoroughly enjoying yourself as you put the medical instrument in place. Wanda’s so pretty, so innocent.

A more sensual look takes over your features when you’re greeted with the sight of her glistening cunt again. Precious.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Oh!” The high-pitched noise Wanda makes when two of your fingers push inside her pussy is downright filthy.

The sensations of your warm fingers bounce all around Wanda’s body and the room. It’s only your fingertips, and you’ve barely moved at all, but Wanda’s slick is dripping and she’s already stimulated like she’s never been before.

“More,” Wanda whines, bringing her hips up, urging you to continue. You press her down by the lower belly, your warm spreading out over her skin.

“This is an examination,” you state, no room for question. Your eyes narrow, and Wanda gulps. “We’re doing it how I like it.”

The blonde looks up at you with those doe-green eyes, pouting adorably, before nodding obediently. She’s been so busy ruling Barbieland that relinquishing all that power for once might certainly be pleasant.

You continue to slowly slide your two fingers in her cunt, and Wanda lets out a whimper. Her body moves with your touch like you’re her puppeteer, but maybe she needs it because this feeling is so, so new.

“Feels s’good,” she gasps, and you want to chastise her because it technically isn’t supposed to feel good, but you see the dizzied look on Wanda’s pretty little face and you relent.

It definitely isn’t the first time you’ve had your fingers in a woman, so your practiced fingers curl with expert ease to find her sweet spot. “Oh!” Wanda moans, louder, lithe body arching on the operation bed.

“Shit,” you swear, fingers curling again so you can see that exact reaction. You start to move, faster, harbouring this carnal desire to make Wanda scream and beg.

She’s so innocent, so corruptible, so easy.

Sooner than later, you’re bent over Wanda’s body on the bed, wrist hammering in and out of her sweet pussy, finding all the spots that make her weak.

“Pretty girl,” you pant, biting hickeys into collarbone and her breasts. Her blonde locks are splayed out on the pillow, body shaking with each thrust, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, and it’s the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever chanced upon.

You memorise every stroke that makes her arch, every spot that makes her whine — perks of being a gynecologist, you supposed — you find your way around her body like it’s child’s play, and all too soon Wanda’s nearing a hypothetical edge.

“I think- I think I’mna pee,” Wanda cries, clawing at your wrist because the feeling is too much. She can hardly think, at the sheer pace and ferocity of which you were taking her cunt.

“Ever heard of a clitoris?” you question breathlessly, still pummeling your wrist into her soaked pussy. Wanda’s dripping, actually dripping. If she thought she was wet before, she was now soaking the sheets.

“Wh-what?” she responds, equally as breathless. Her mind was all fuzzy, barely registering your question.

“It’s this,” you add, bringing your thumb to harshly press against her swollen and puffy clit.

Wanda screams.

(This Barbie reaches another plane of existence with fantastical pleasure.)

It turns out Wanda is a ‘squirter’. She doesn’t know what the implications of that are.

“Do I need to come back next week?” Wanda asks innocently, knowing full well gynecologist visits only needed to be scheduled once a year. She’s perched on the edge of the bed, back in her clothes.

“Definitely,” you respond, scanning over the test results calmly, like you hadn’t just made Wanda squirt twice in less than thirty minutes.

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda asks playfully, purposefully batting her lashes when you look up from your computer.

You don’t bother hiding the chuckle that leaves your lips at her antics. “Yeah, doctor’s orders.”

a/n: you do not want to know how many health sites i visited to learn about pelvic exams and gynecology. | main m.list

#marvel smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #barbie #the barbie movie #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #bottom wanda maximoff #sub wanda maximoff #top reader #dom reader #x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #barbie 2023

5K notes · View notes

thenerdywriter · 22 days

Text

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #colin my beautiful boy i will avenge you from these dumb people #penelope my sweet girl you are a dumbass but i am rooting for you and the love of your life #also anyone else see that complex female characters on this show are much better written when there's a woman running it?#hmmmm jess brownell you have my respect...for now #long rant but uhhh i am writing a fanfic where i erase the mistakes of cvd (the ghastly man)#the only good thing you did was the casting and i doubt you had a hand in it at ALL #luke newton and nicola coughlan the ACTORS that you are

1K notes · View notes

hookhausenschips · 1 month

Text

As She’s Walking Away

Masterlist

Summary: At the Monaco Gala, Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen is captivated by Y/N. Encouraged by mentor Dr. Helmut Marko, he overcomes his shyness to ask her to dance, leading to a promising new connection.

Join my taglist here!

———————————————————-

Max Verstappen was usually a master of control, navigating tight corners and high speeds with unrivaled precision. Yet, during the illustrious Monaco Gala, held annually after the Grand Prix, he found himself grappling with a different kind of challenge. In a grand ballroom filled with the glitz of Formula 1’s finest, it wasn't the glittering chandeliers or the clinking of fine crystal that caught his attention—it was Y/N.

Y/N, a guest of one of the sponsors, was unaware of the stir she caused when she entered. Her grace and simplicity, a stark contrast to the opulent surroundings, caught many an eye, but none as keenly as Max’s. From across the room, he watched her, noting how she laughed, the way she listened intently to conversations, and how she preferred sparkling water over champagne.

Though they never spoke, every gesture she made seemed to whisper to him across the clamor of the party. Max, despite his usual confidence, found himself rooted to the spot, unable to muster the courage to approach her. As he watched, he concocted conversations in his mind, each clever line followed by witty replies he imagined she'd say. But when the moment came to step forward, his racing heart couldn't persuade his feet to move.

“I don't even know her name,” Max muttered to himself, his gaze following Y/N as she navigated through the crowd. Every time their eyes nearly met, his own would shy away, betraying his usually unshakable nerve.

As the night drew on, Max’s opportunity to speak to Y/N seemed to slip away. She was preparing to leave, her goodbye as graceful as her entrance had been. That’s when the old, seasoned voice of Dr. Helmut Marko, his team advisor, reached him. "Son, I once watched the one that got away disappear into a crowd just like this. I regretted it for years. Don’t make the same mistake. Go on, ask her to dance."

Spurred by Helmut’s advice and his own burgeoning feelings, Max finally broke through the invisible barrier that held him back. He swiftly moved through the crowd, his determination fueled by the fear of regret. Reaching Y/N just as she was about to exit the ballroom, Max felt his rehearsed lines dissolve into the air.

“Wait!” he called out, his voice more urgent than he intended. Y/N turned, her expression one of mild surprise. “I... I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to find the courage to talk to you all evening.”

She smiled, an amused twinkle in her eye. “And now that you have me, you’ve run out of things to say?”

Max laughed, relieved by her light-heartedness. “Seems so. But maybe we could start with a dance?”

Y/N nodded, her smile widening. “I’d like that,” she said as Max led her to the dance floor.

As they moved to the soft melody, the world around them blurred into obscurity. Max found that speaking to Y/N was easier than he had imagined. They talked about everything and nothing, from the trivial to the profound, and with each word, Max felt a connection forge, one he hadn’t anticipated but deeply cherished.

The dance ended all too soon, but as they parted, Max felt a sense of victory, not unlike crossing the finish line first but far more profound. He had rolled the dice, as Helmut advised, and though he might still stumble, he was no longer falling in love as she walked away. Instead, he was stepping forward, heart and mind finally in accord, ready to see where this new race would lead him.

485 notes · View notes

strawbellyx3 · 4 months

Text

Some thoughts on JinMao in The Apothecary Diaries LN (spoilers)

I love how Maomao's love for Jinshi is written in the Light Novel. She's an unreliable narrator and can't put a name on what she feels for a long time and heck, for the most time she doesn't even want to. The beginning of volume 6 showing this perfectly when she didn't want to leave Jinshi's hair stick behind, carried it with her and when she slept, she kept it near her chest because she didn't want to have it anywhere where she could see it. The symbolism *chef kiss* (she doesn't want to face her feelings but also still carries them close to her chest)

She purposely chooses to avoid thinking about any potential feelings for Jinshi and at the end of the same volume it's also stated that she does have some kind of affection for him that she can't yet put into words.

For readers, it's easy to view Maomao's avoidant attitude as disinterest. Even more so paired with how she doesn't seem to ever be nervous around Jinshi. But really, we don't need blushy nervous Maomao to understand what she's feeling. Her feelings come to show everytime she worries about Jinshi's well being and goes out of her way to get him to eat and rest, takes time of her own day to make sure that he's well.

When at the beginning, she always considered him bringing all these tasks to her as bothersome. Maomao just wanted to experiment with poison and make medicine, she didn't want to spend time on anything else, really.

Then, in volume 9 she's even willing to give up her agency if it meant helping ease his burdens.

Maomao, miss "I don't want to have anything to do with this, this is bothersome" tells him to use all of her. Use her until she falls apart. (while kabedoning him, love Maomao being an absolute girlboss even when she tells him to use her)

She's worried by his selflessness. How he's unable to use other people to reach his goals and shoulders everything on his own, wanting to save everyone. Maomao gets upset by it and worries he'd never get anything in return and become as luckless in life as her adoptive father. Who carries the same selflessness and kindness.

I don't think we talk enough about how much it means for Maomao to get to a point where she would rather get used by Jinshi than to see him exhaust himself.

This whole scene afterwards is just..generally really heartwarming honestly.

(Volume 9 Chapter 20)

Her hands went to Jinshi’s cheek. “You’re only human, Master Jinshi. You’re not some mythical immortal who can save everyone.” She held his face in her hands, the fingers of her left hand brushing his scar. “You can be wounded, scarred, brought low. Only human.”

Who was she talking to? She knew Jinshi was standing in front of her, but for some reason she kept seeing Luomen’s face.

No wonder I’m so upset. The principle that drove Jinshi’s behavior seemed very similar to Luomen’s. She was afraid that if he went on like this, he would end up just as luckless in life as her old man. Just like Pops... He’d spent himself trying to rescue everyone and everything. Like a fool. He should have wanted more, been greedier, but instead he’d suffered his fate patiently. Suffered and suffered, and for what? To become an old man resigned to his empty hands. This was, it was fair to say, Maomao’s one criticism of her father. She’d felt it keenly in the affair with the Shaonese shrine maiden. She respected Luomen immensely. A man who never lost his kindness no matter what unhappiness he encountered was like a miracle. The price, though, was that his body and his heart were both battered. In time he became so that everything he did, he did in the expectation of defeat. Would Jinshi end up like him one day? Or— “Please, please don’t go doing anything else like burning a brand into your skin,” Maomao said. “I heard you...the first several times,” Jinshi replied. “Are you sure?” A smile flitted across Maomao’s face, and she slowly pulled her hands away.

#they mean a lot to me #no one gets them the way i do /hj #jinmao #kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #light novel

480 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Just Remus Lupin who has a crybaby girlfriend that overthinks everything.

Thanks for requesting!

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 872 words

You knock on the door, and Remus reminds himself for the third time this week that he really needs to get you a copy of the key. He groans, rolling his neck as he stands from the reading position that had gotten uncomfortable at some point while he wasn’t paying attention, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he opens the door.

“Sorry, dove, I keep forgetting—hey.” You’re biting down on your bottom lip, face red and eyes glassy. “Sweetheart,” the endearment comes out slow and heavy-hearted, “what’s happened?”

It’s like you were waiting for permission. You crumple, mouth twisting awfully as a quiet whine tears from the back of your throat. Remus coos, stepping outside to wrap you up in his arms. You’re ready for him, and your arms come around his neck, your sniffles wet and pitiful next to his ear.

“I thought you were just meeting up with Marcy,” he murmurs, a question embedded in the statement.

“I was,” you choke out. “She’s mad at me.”

Remus’ heart contracts painfully. He pets the back of your head. “Come here, love, come inside.” He starts walking backwards in the door, and you follow. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

“No thank you,” you warble.

He closes the door behind you, guiding you into a seat at the table. “I’ll make us hot chocolate, then.”

This is somewhat routine. You’re a sensitive thing, with a delicate spirit. You feel what others feel keenly, and it’s not rare for small things throughout your day to work you into a tizzy for reasons Remus can’t always wrap his head around. A warm drink usually helps.

“So,” he says cautiously, the gurgling of the kettle cutting through the quiet of his flat, “did you and Marcy have a fight?”

You shake your head, sniffling. Remus makes a mental note to bring you some tissues. “No, I don’t think so.” Your voice is weak and broken up by little breaths as you try to calm yourself. “She just—” Your lip wobbles, and you bite down on it cruelly. “I could tell she was irritated with me,” you say miserably.

Remus feels his brow pinch in sympathy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What did she say?”

“It’s not—she wasn’t mean.” You palm some wetness away from your cheeks. “It was just her tone.”

He hums, mixing the hot chocolate in two mugs. “What was her tone like?”

You shake your head, more tears slipping past your lashes. “She just seemed so annoyed with me,” you weep, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sounds. “I think I talked for too long.”

“Wait, dove,” Remus tucks a box of tissues under his arm as he brings over the mugs, setting yours in front of you, “you think she was cross with you because you talked too much?”

You nod heartbrokenly, reaching for the tissues. “I was telling a story, and I could tell by the end that she was getting irritated so I stopped, but then when I asked if she was free to hang out again next week—” you hiccup out a tiny sob “—she just said ‘we’ll see’.”

“Darling,” there’s a bit of relieved laughter in Remus’ tone, but you look up at him, crestfallen, and he shoves it right back down where it belongs, “I don’t know if she was quite so upset as you think, sweetheart. Maybe she just said that because she wasn’t sure if she’d be free next week.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “Rem, you weren’t there. She looked so—so done with me.” A fresh wave of tears falls, and Remus decides to take matters into his own hands, leaning across the table to thumb them away. You lean into his touch, love-deprived. “I don’t think she’s going to want to be friends anymore,” you barely murmur. Your tone is heavy with resignation.

Remus makes a soft, pitying sound. “I’m sure she still wants to be friends,” he says quietly, stroking at your damp cheek. “Even if she was upset, I doubt it’s enough that—”

Your phone chimes, and he goes quiet, both your eyes flying to where it sits face-down on the table.

“Who is it?”

You turn it over, an exhale rattling out of you. “It’s Marcy.”

Remus retracts his hand, picking up his hot chocolate to take a sip. “And what did she say?” he asks, already smug.

Your face is tensed with anxiety as you open the message, but then it slackens. “She wants…she’s free to meet up again on Tuesday.”

Remus doesn’t try to suppress his grin. He shakes his head at you, taking a long, satisfied sip of his hot chocolate. “What did I tell you?”

“I…I’m sorry,” you say slowly, clearly struggling to switch gears. He doesn’t rush you, half enjoying his front-row seat to your realization. “I thought…wow.” You sniffle, looking at Remus through your lashes, sheepish. “I’m sorry I came home and ugly cried to you. I thought she was really upset.”

He chuckles, reaching across the table to thumb a residual tear from your jaw. “That’s alright, dove. And you don’t ugly cry.” He chucks you gently under the chin. “You could never be capable of ugliness.”

733 notes · View notes

yamujiburo · 8 months

Text

Hanako didn't consider motherhood to be a burden. Of course, it was never easy... But still, she felt the need to say “Thanks baby” to Satoshi every once in a while. ... Looking after a baby is somewhat comparable to looking after a pet Pokémon in terms of effort... But Hanako figured it was at least somewhat better than being all alone after her husband left home. At least a baby provides more thrill than a digital pet, if it dies you can't press reset. Maybe I said too much there. ... He became rebellious for the first time around the age of three. “Ah, Satoshi, you're plotting against me.” She keenly sensed Satoshi's presence... “Having such a rebellious son makes me the world's most unfortunate beauty... Sniff, sniff. Waaah, waaaah.” and she began to cry. Normally at her age, girls would be able to go out and have fun, not working as a single mother, she really did feel somewhat unfortunate. She started off only pretending to cry, but while thinking about her life situation, the tears soon became real. Satoshi was taken aback by her crying and stopped his troublemaking. “Mama. What's wrong? Are you okay?” That was all he could do to comfort her.

Pocket Monsters: The Animation is so brutal dude. But it really gives more insight into Delia's (Hanako's) story than the anime ever did

#pocket monsters the animation

548 notes · View notes

avalordream · 17 days

Text

Prompt: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: A few days after I posted this- a few other thoughts came to mind- SO HERE IS MY ATTEMPT AT VOCALIZING THEM

You’re keenly aware of how small and tiny you are the moment you wake up.

For the first few days, you started to acclimate to…the family home.

It wasn’t YOUR family though. It never was. It was MC’s. Not your’s.

You could project all you wanted onto MC but it was never your family or your life to experience. It was theirs.

Even so, you quickly found yourself missing the life you were used to. More specifically:

The cuisine.

It was hard not to draw suspicion to the fact that you were craving different food genres aside from Mom’s Pamela’s mac and cheese and cheeseburgers.

Ma’s Noelani’s Hawaiian food helped quite a bit to hold you over as you started to ponder over how to approach it.

Kind of hard to bring it up to your MC’s parents that you wanted Asian/Middle eastern/Indian/Pakistani/Mexican/etc food when there was none of that for miles around

For the time being, you had to quietly hint and nudge their thoughts into that direction but not enough to make them suspicious. Noelani obviously had her suspicions about Cove getting into the house from Step 2-3 but never brought it up once. From what you could tell, she was scary observant

Another issue was how clumsy your new body was.

Your mind might be able to remember how to do everyday tasks like writing and such but this tiny body didn’t have the muscle memory to match it

Much to Liz’s dismay, you spent quite a bit of your time forcing your hands and legs to train to do things your adult body could do in a snap

Time wise- technology was a huge sucker punch. It made you feel bad for taking your own devices for granted.

That being said, self learning everything was going to be hard without a phone or computer on hand, especially knowing that you’d have to go through the cursed education system all over again- but most likely much harder

There had to be a reason older folk complained about it, right?...

Your MC’s birthday was the same as your own, just that the birth year is 1997. That being said, the current year was 2006… Funny. You were only two in 2006…

…

Back to self learning, you tried to practice what you considered basic math long after everyone had fallen asleep

Usually, your day was filled with entertaining Shiloh and Liz, playing in the park or going along with whatever Liz said. Judging by the giant for sale sign across the street and the date, you figured out that you got isekaied roughly at least a month or two before Cove and Mr. Holden would move in.

Who knew how that would go now that you weren’t subjected to just three choices?

Even after playing around, your body was exhausted and your baby mind was just as pooped out.

The first few days you would wake up early as children do and tried doing your math and remembering as much as you could at that time

Yeah, Liz nearly gave you a heart attack after she barged in and you had to play it off as you scribbling absolute nonsense cause you were bored

After that near collision, you changed your prep time to being at night. Sure, you woke up to Liz shaking you and not getting enough sleep in the morning, but you needed to refresh your memory the best you could

You couldn’t do it every night though and did your best to keep some sort of schedule so you wouldn’t forget - and worry your MC’s moms

They noticed the first few times of how sleepy you’d be when you’d wake up later than usual - granted if Liz didn’t wake you up - and a few nights after, you nearly got caught right in the middle of your review.

Pam was more sneaky than Noelani, so you should’ve seen this coming- but even so, you had everything spread out on your rug when you just barely heard her footsteps come to your MC’s door

You had enough time to shove everything underneath your bed - your room was messy enough but better safe than sorry - and quickly dive under the covers before you heard your door open with the softest of clicks

She was around for a good while before you heard the door close again but you didn’t relax until you were sure her footsteps went back to the master bedroom

After that, you were much more careful about how long you spent studying and when. You haven’t been caught since.

Occasionally, you’d have to sneak in your MC’s parent’s room to grab any books that you needed. Good thing Noelani was a book nerd.

You did have to be careful about your self learning- you didn’t want them getting any suspicions that their kid was suddenly…different out of nowhere.

You had no idea what MC was like as a kid before the events of Our Life so you tried your best to piece together what you could

Speaking of, there were a bunch of things you quickly realized about Our Life, one of which is that game didn’t go over nearly everything that MC went through, let alone before Cove came or others that it only touched on briefly

For example, the tourists that came and went every year happened to be close friends of Pamela’s from her time in university, hence why they were so friendly to you and Liz in particular.

It was also why they knew how to… handle your ever changing moods. At least-

That’s what it looked like to them.

To you- it was because you had to battle MC’s initial responses to these scenarios.

Go figure, this body still had its fair share of emotions inside of it, leaving you to figure out if this sharp pang of fear or worry was your own or not.

It left you second guessing everything you did, especially when you’d be up at night, studying and practicing your writing

It seriously irked you, knowing your writing was sloppy even though you knew this body couldn’t help it. It didn’t make seeing your scrappy writing less frustrating though

Despite how much you tried to hide how YOU felt, not MC, Noelani still picked up on the small shifts in your behavior.

One of these being the irritation you harbored for your writing.

Speaking of emotions, you found your body easily overwhelmed by any stronger ones- your own irritation making you cry- an alien feeling and one that took even you by surprise.

Worse part? The first time happened was in front of Noelani when she tried to help you practice your penmanship

Naturally, she tried to comfort you MC by trying to console you, saying it’d be better with practice and wiping away your tears but no matter how YOU tried, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing

It wasn’t until much later that you realized that MC’s tiny self had their own limits and by pushing those adult feelings and expectations that YOU had onto it sent it into a messy overdrive.

After that, you had learned to slow down- the world wasn’t ending…even if it felt like it.

…

The nail in the coffin for you that made YOU cry. Not MC’s body: Your dreams started to resemble parts of your life.

You’d dream that you were back at your desk job or filling out mundane paperwork but no matter how boring it’d be, it was YOUR life.

The one YOU were used to and familiar with

You’d always feel so relieved to be back where you were supposed to, whether you were happy with that life or not

It was that feeling of having all your choices in your hand and being in control of where you wanted to go, if that made sense.

Nobody made those choices for you except well…you.

Only to have that feeling of familiarity ripped away once you registered Liz waking you up to play while “Ma and Mom snooze the day away!”

…

You just want to go home…

To YOUR home…

150 notes · View notes

phthalomushroom · 3 months

Text

The Family (5)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, stalking, mention of injury

word count: 1.8K

note: I am so sorry for the late post, the words were just not wording and I needed more time to figure out what I wanted to be said. But I finished this chapter and I hope you all enjoy!

Baela and you had split up only a couple of hours ago. She had gotten a call and had needed to leave right away. You had asked what was going on but she assured you everything was fine before leaving.

You still had some errands to do, which lead you across the city to the East side. By the time you finished it had gotten pretty late. Most of the stores were closed and the taxi services were no longer in commission. You looked at your phone to see when the next train was, seeing that you needed to make it fifteen blocks in order to catch the last train for the red line. You began walking, taking in the cool evening air when you had an odd, gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

The streets were a little too quiet, which was never the case during this time. Usually there would be groups of people out walking, people on their balconies laughing but tonight there was just…quiet. You took a look over your shoulder to try and ease your thoughts only to see the man Daemon had mentioned earlier following you.

You looked forward, picking up the pace as you turned the corner. You thought that maybe it was a coincidence but that would be impossible. There were no coincidences in this city, you of all people should know that.

You were made keenly aware that you were nowhere near your apartment nor the train station and there was no way you were going to end up in a subway possibly cornered. You were up on the East side, a side that you didn’t venture much on your own, meaning you were very unfamiliar with it. This was supposed to be a safe part of the city since the rich and high class lived here, there was no way something would happen to you.

Clearly not, as the footsteps behind you got louder, making you instinctually speed up.

This shouldn’t be happening, Daemon should have intervened by now. Unless that whole conversation was just to get under your skin, to throw you off.

What a prick.

However as much as Daemon was a prick you weren’t willing to find out if he was a liar.

You had grabbed your mace out of your bag, your body going into autopilot as your senses tried to assess how close this man was getting to you. You took a turn ending up on a familiar cobblestone street and realized exactly where you could go. You turned down another corner, heading for the brownstone at the end of the street.

You took the stairs two at a time, repeatedly knocking on the door quickly as you watched from the corner of your eye as the man continued to approach.

The heavy wooden door opened to reveal a shirtless and very confused Aemond Targaryen.

“What-”

You wrapped your arms around him, pushing your way inside as you pushed him up against the wall and out of view of the street, kicking the door shut. You peaked through the side window, moving the curtain to see the man that was following you get picked up by a black Audi before speeding away.

“Happy to see you too.”

You looked up to see Aemond smirking at you. You quickly pulled away, taking a couple steps back as you shoved your mace back in your bag. “Your guard dog take the night off?”

Aemond’s eyebrows furrowed, noting what was just in your hand. “Huh?”

“Someone was following me. I thought Daemon was on protection detail.”

His face twisted before he grabbed your hand, taking you up the stairs of the foyer and into the kitchen. He grabbed his phone off the kitchen island.

He started scrolling through contacts. “Help yourself to anything you want, I have to make a call.”

“I think I’ll just go-”

“Sit.”

You instinctively took a seat at the island, watching him walk around the corner to where his office was. You rolled your eyes at yourself, right back here and right back into your old ways.

You set your shopping bags on the ground and put your coat over your chair heading over to the oven where something was simmering. It looked like Aemond had just finished making some mac n’ cheese.

He did say help yourself.

You grabbed a bowl from the shelf and supplied some golden crescents to your bowl. You had just sat down and taken a forkful to your mouth when Aemond came back in, with a shirt on, as he tied up his hair into a low bun.

He looked kinda pretty as a few of the shorter strands framed his face.

He smirked, noting you had been staring. “Eating my food already.”

You blinked, looking away. “You said help yourself.”

“Indeed I did.” He grabbed a bowl, joining you across the island.

It was silent for a while, both of you eating your portions. It felt… normal. Like old times, a chill went down your spine at that. You needed to change that.

“Everything okay?”

Aemond’s face darkened. “It will be.”

“Is Daemon-”

“He’s being taken care of by the family doctor.”

You nodded. “The same one who stitched me up?”

His eyes met yours before quickly looking at the counter, he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

You put your fork down, sitting back in your chair crossing your arms. “I’m going to need an explanation.”

He mirrored your stance, leaning back against the counter. “I don’t think that's a good idea.”

You started getting up. “Then I’m leaving.”

“No.” He reached over the counter to grab your hand.

You looked up at him. “You were a real asshole the last time we spoke, you know that right?”

He let out a sigh, letting your hand go. “I know. I… I didn’t expect to see you and I was drunk.”

“You never acted like that while you were drunk before.”

“That’s because I dated you.”

You felt your face heat up at that. “Maybe you shouldn’t make it a habit. You're a bit of a mean drunk.”

He let out a small chuckle. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were rude.”

“I was flirting.”

“You’re engaged.”

He frowned. “I know.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it. At least to make peace.”

His eyes softened. “I-I can’t.”

You moved to grab your stuff as you made your way to the door. More secrets, more difficulties. You needed the whole truth or nothing and you were beginning to grow tired of being the only one who wanted to have a peaceful life.

“It’s the Lannisters.”

Your feet stopped moving, you almost dropped your things. You slowly turned towards him. “You said they were gone.”

“They were but- but things got complicated. I am going to take care of it.”

“What happened, Aemond?”

“You came back, you weren’t supposed to come back and then everything got more complicated and then Alys-”

“Slow down.” You couldn’t make sense of anything he was trying to say.

He was breathing quickly and his words were beginning to jumble to the point where understanding him was impossible. Tears looked like they were ready to spill from his eyes. You dropped your stuff, walking over to him and taking his face in your hands.

You forced him to look at you. “Breathe, Aemond.”

You moved your hands down so they were rubbing up and down his arms. “You need to breathe.”

He leaned forward, putting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Then another.

You closed your eyes, leaning into him and the familiar sage scent that he got from using his body wash. Despite the years, despite the pain, despite everything you still missed him. He was your everything when you were a teen, he was the only family you had at one point and now, being this close to him, you wondered how you had gone so long without him.

But he was engaged, and as much as you wanted to be selfish you just couldn’t do it.

You pulled away, taking a step back from him. “The Lannisters are back?”

He seemed disappointed.

He nodded, rubbing his face. “They’ve been back for a couple months now.”

“You should have told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want you involved in this again.”

“Aemond I am involved in this, I mean I was being followed home. Daemon got hurt. It’s like five years ago all over again.”

“No it's not.” He came towards you taking your hands and rubbing his thumb in a circle on the back of your hand. “I’m not going to let that night happen again. I’m not gonna lose you, do you understand me?”

He was looking intensely into your eyes, then his gaze moved to your lips. You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close.

“Aemond.” You breathed. Your head began to spin as if you were drunk, your thoughts going quiet as your body started to move closer to his as if you were magnets destined to meet again.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He leaned down, his breath fanning your face.

“Aemond.” The noise you made was a mixture of a whimper and a plea as Aemond leaned closer meeting your lips with his.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as his tongue invaded your mouth. You snaked your hands up into his hair, pulling the strands from the bun he wore. He moaned, pulling you impossibly closer as he nipped your lower lip. You felt like you were on fire, as your teeth clashed, the kiss becoming more hungry.

More desperate.

Suddenly his phone rang, causing the two of you to jump apart, finally being brought back to reality. He took his phone out of his back pocket, glancing at the caller ID.

“I have to take this.”

You nodded.

“You aren’t leaving tonight,” he said. “You can stay in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t you still have a guest room?”

His face turned red. “Not anymore.”

He turned, heading towards his office as he answered his phone, closing the door behind him.

You made your way upstairs, heading past where you remembered the guest room to be. Against your better judgment you peered inside to see the room that used to house a queen sized bed now be filled with boxes of all kinds of things.

You crept inside, looking into one of the closer boxes. You knew you shouldn't be snooping but after everything that happened tonight you thought fuck it.

You reached into one of the opened boxes pulling out a small onesie. One that was meant for a baby.

Your heart felt like it shattered.

Yeah, maybe you should have minded your business.

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @namelesslosers @tssf-imagines @xcharlottemikaelsonx @yourbane @beary-rambles @a-beaverhausen @lightblindingme

182 notes · View notes

starryevermore · 4 months

Text

the house of snow (6) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: now that he knows of sejanus’s interest in you, coriolanus can only think of how to keep you away from him.

word count: 2,566

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: coryo’s pov, hints of manipulative!coryo, obsessive!coryo, possessive!coryo, jealous!coryo

You were maddening. Did you not have any idea of the effect you had on him? Did you not realize that you occupied every single one of Coriolanus’s thoughts? Did you not realize that you made him want to destroy all of Panem if only for a moment of your time? But now, now you looked at him with nothing but loathing in your eyes. Why? Because he gave you a kiss? Did it not take your breath away as it did for him?

Coriolanus could still feel your lips pressed against his. How soft your lips were. The way you gasped as he kissed you. How, for just a moment, you almost allowed him to touch you like that. Then you were pushing him away, looking up at him with nothing but fire in your eyes.

He almost wanted to laugh at the sight. Your lips were pressed into a thin line, your fists clenched into fists at your side. You were adorable when you were angry. No more serious than Coriolanus the Cat when he hissed at Coriolanus (the human) when he walked by. Coriolanus, for a moment, considered laughing. He liked seeing you this riled up. It made him wonder if you would be so…vivacious on your wedding night.

“What the hell was that!?” you shouted. Coriolanus stifled his snort. Were you truly that enraged by being kissed by him? “You cannot just, just kiss someone! We are not married, Snow! You promised that you would not ruin me!”

“Did I? I only recall saying your reputation would never be harmed.” Coriolanus rolled his eyes as he reached out for you again. He liked touching you. It made his mind a little quieter, reminded him that you were his. And now that he’s finally had you in an intimate way—your first and your last kiss—he wanted to do it again, and again, and again—lunch be damned. He imagined your mother still waiting in the dining room as the minutes ticked by, worry and concern and anger racing through her mind as she realized he was, in fact, ruining you for anyone else. Coriolanus licked his lips, realizing you weren’t pushing him away. Was this anger all a façade? Was this just an act for you to make him think you hated him? Were you as plagued by him as he was by you? “And it will not be, I will promise you that. If I wish, however, to kiss my fiancée in private, I shall do so.”

“You only did this so I would feel guilty if I tried to leave you for Sejanus, which I have already told I would not do!”

“No,” he said. “I did this because you drive me mad.”

“Then lock yourself in an asylum. Do not kiss me.”

Oh, there you go again. Saying such outlandish things to get a rise out of him. He loved when you were like this. He reached up, caressing your face. You tried to jerk away. And while he did love you like this, Coriolanus was also keenly aware that he needed to keep you in your place. He pinched your chin between his fingers. “You are to be my wife. You are to be the wife of a king. I shall treat you however I see fit. Do you understand?”

When you said nothing, he pinched harder. “Do you understand?”

“Only if you understand that I will hate you until the day I die.”

Coriolanus finally let out a laugh. Oh, you couldn’t be serious, could you? Were you not aware of the thin line between love and hatred, connected by the heat of passion? Did you not realize how easy it would be to get you to love him when you already felt so strongly about him? Coriolanus was sure that, by the time of the wedding, you would care for him just the same as he cared for you.

“Don’t be ridiculous, petal,” Coriolanus said. He let go of your chin, using that hand to take one of your own. “Come now, let us have lunch now. Perhaps some food will help you calm down.”

“Calm down?” you repeated. “You cannot be serious, Snow.”

Ugh. There you go again—only calling him by his last name. It was an improvement, he supposed, from only calling him “Your Majesty.” But why was he limited to his surname when Sejanus received the honor of being called by his first? Surely there couldn’t just be friendship be you and the Plinth boy. Perhaps that was why you always held him at arm’s length. Perhaps there was more there that you did not want Coriolanus to know. He still did not know what you meant by “Sejanus was right.” What was the secret you were keeping from him?

“And why wouldn’t I be? You have been acting as if I have threatened to lock you away until our wedding day. All I have done is ask one thing of you, and I have kissed you.”

“You asked me to stop talking to my friend. You…You accosted me!”

Coriolanus barked out a laugh. “And I compromised on the first point. I asked for you to refrain from speaking to him until after the wedding. As for accosting to you? What do you think will happen when we are at the altar? Better yet, when we consummate the marriage?”

You looked away from him. Ah, it seemed you hadn’t considered that. Were you as innocent as you seemed? Has your mother not yet informed you of how you would provide him heirs? He supposed that was right. Most Mama’s kept their daughters uninformed about those sorts of intimacies. It helped ensure that young ladies were not tempted in the same way young men were. You were as pure as they came, he mused, and Coriolanus Snow could not wait to ruin you. “Do not patronize me.”

“It is hardly patronizing to bring up the realities of our relationship. Now, come, let us have lunch.”

“Snow—”

Coriolanus ground his teeth together. What did he have to do to get you to refer to him by his first name? The only time he got to hear his name from your mouth was when you talked about that damned cat. He supposed that was better than nothing, but he wanted to be the only man that occupied your mind. For you to say his name because you cared for him the same way he cared for you. He imagined it sounded pretty, his name passing through your lips, honeyed with love and affection. What might it sound like when you were screaming it?

“I believe the terms of our agreement were that you behave, yes? So, I will only tell you once more that we are going to have lunch, and you shall follow me into the dining room. You will sit beside me. You will laugh when I tell you jokes. You will smile and you will be the perfect picture of a Queen. Am I understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. For a second, he wondered if you would have a comeback that make him both want to laugh and scream. But, instead, you said, “I will not be who you want me to be, even if I am on my best behavior.”

That day, you ate lunch in complete silence.

“Why is he here?” Coriolanus asked your mother as the Plinth family entered the ballroom.

Your mother was hosting a ball to celebrate your engagement to Coriolanus. He, admittedly, was growing tired of these ridiculous affairs. If he could, he would speed this entire process along and enjoy the month-long solitude that the honeymoon would bring. It would, after all, be one of the rare times he did not have to attend any public engagements, attend any meetings, or ensure that the policies being adopted were following his agenda. He would be able to enjoy you completely and fully. Yet, he had to be patient. These sorts of engagements were tricky. If he moved too fast, he risked the ton thinking that he had already ruined you. The optics of that sort of rumor would not go ever well. It was not enough for Coriolanus to have power—he had to be beloved by the people who mattered.

Of course, the ball might not have been such a terrible idea. It gave him an excuse to be near you. To remind the ton that you were his and he was yours. The only condition he gave when he received the news was that the Plinths not be in attendance.

“She threw a fit when she saw that they had not been included in the invitations,” your mother said. “I did not tell her it was because you asked for them to be excluded, if you are wondering. But she said she would sooner pitch herself out the window than allow her friend to be slighted like this.”

Coriolanus hummed. “You have to admire her loyalty, don’t you? Such a shame she doesn’t extend those same feelings toward me.”

“She will, eventually, Your Majesty. She’s stubborn, but not a halfwit. I’m sure after you two are married and have children, she’ll come to realize that you are the best husband she could dream of.”

“I believe she still hopes for a love match to save her from all this.”

When Coriolanus looked at your mother, she was rolling her eyes. “There is little a love match can provide that a well-bred husband cannot. I must take some blame, of course. I used to tell her about how in love her father and I were in our youth. How it felt like nothing in the world could stop us. I filled her head with hopes and dreams that she might find the same. I forgot to tell her how love can dwindle into nothing. About what happens when you think too much of the present and not the future.” Your mother looked up at Coriolanus. “There is no better man suited for her than you, Your Majesty, and she will realize it eventually.”

“Perhaps.” Coriolanus watched as Sejanus made his way through the crowd, to the refreshment table where you stood. His heart beat quickened. No. Sejanus could not steal you away, and certainly not at a ball celebrating your engagement to the King. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Coriolanus ignored the throngs of people vying for his attention. If he thought the meddling Mama’s were terrible before he was engaged to you, they were even worse now. Despite his obvious commitment to you, they seemed convinced that he could be so easily swayed. It took everything in him to not lose his temper. It would not go over well with the public, and he imagined it would go even worse with you. So, he held his tongue and offered tight-lipped smiles as he maneuvered through the crowd.

As he neared you, however, he began to slow. As much as he would like to get between you and Sejanus to prevent anymore conspiring against him, he was equally interested in hearing what Sejanus had to say to you. Was he confessing his love to you? Was he convincing you to run away and elope with him? The Plinths still owned their home from the times before gaining their title. It would be the perfect place for Sejanus to hide away with you.

Hmm…That was an interesting thought. Not Sejanus with you, of course. But the idea of taking you to a home in the country. Perhaps he could arrange for your honeymoon to be spent away from the Capitol? Coriolanus owned a nice summer home far, far from the Capitol. It might do him some good to get you away from the bustle of the city, to show you that Coriolanus could be a good husband if you would be a good wife. Yes, that was a good idea. He’ll need to make some arrangements as soon as the ball is over.

Coriolanus hung back in Sejanus’s shadow, careful to make sure neither you nor Sejanus did not see him. This could only work if his presence was not noticed.

“May I?” Sejanus was asking you, reaching for your hand. You allowed him to take it, lifting your hand closer to his face. For a moment, Coriolanus wondered if Sejanus was going to kiss your knuckles. Instead, he looked at the ring you wore over your long, white glove. “Coryo knows how to pick his jewelry.”

You hummed. He wished he could see your face. “I think it is a bit…obvious, don’t you? Every one knows his obsession with roses.”

“How fitting, then, he placed a permanent rose on his new obsession.”

“Is it a new obsession? You made it sound like his…so called infatuation with me ran much deeper the last we spoke.” Coriolanus wished you would pull your hand away. Why did you still allow Sejanus to touch you? He was the only person you should let hold your hand. “What is new is the…news of who you have had your eye on.”

The tips of Sejanus’s ears turned red. “I do not know what you mean.”

“Ah, so Livia and Clemmie were only gossiping then?”

“They are good at that, yes.”

It was true, then. Sejanus’s interest in you. Coriolanus crept around, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. Now that this was confirmed, he really did not want Sejanus around you—their friendship be damned. Coriolanus was not going to let anyone stand in between his marriage to you.

“I wish you would have told me, Sej,” you said.

Coriolanus ground his teeth together. Was it not enough for you to call Sejanus by his name? Did you have to have a nickname for him too?

“It wouldn’t have made any difference. Coryo has always cared for you. He’s done so much for me, I couldn’t get in the way of that.”

“It would have made a difference to me.”

Sejanus rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, his thumb pausing over your engagement ring. “It is sweet you think that.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up into a smile. “It is a naïve thought, isn’t it?”

Finally, finally, Sejanus dropped your hand. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the engagement. I’m sure you have many more people to talk to.”

“I would rather talk to you. But…I suppose I should take this as an opportunity to learn more about hosting. I am sure Snow will want many social engagements to prove we are a happy couple.”

Sejanus raised a brow. “Snow? My, that is a new development of your own.”

“Quiet. Were you not just saying you were leaving?” You tilted your head to the dance floor. “Go, find someone to dance with.”

“No one could compare to you.” But he walked away all the same.

As Sejanus walked away, Coriolanus stepped in to take his place.

“He is only a friend, Snow.”

For once, Snow said nothing. Not because he believed you, but because he was thinking of the most effective way to keep you away from Sejanus until after the wedding. Because he will be damned if he let Sejanus attempt anything that could take you from him.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

223 notes · View notes

crimsonmoonlight88 · 20 days

Text

Together Strong

Pairing: Noa x Mae

A/N: Help, I've fallen and I can't get up. Just a short drabble inspired by a scene from Avatar that refused to leave my mind.

It was hard to believe the war for world domination was over for now--harder, even, to think how much had changed since the first time Mae had stepped into this ruined observatory and gazed upon the stars.

Like that fateful night, the sky was dark and cloudless, glittering with stars and the promise of a brighter future. Mae had been wrong, then. The world did not belong to the humans--it belonged to humans and apes, and together they would need to navigate this new age.

The Eagle Clan had tripled in size, and was now established as one of the leading territories. The Clan had chosen a new Master of Birds and Warlord, which called for a celebration. Mae had never known what it was like--to feast and laugh and tell stories over bonfires. To listen to the beating of drums and chants of song.

The festivities that followed the ceremony would last long through the night, and she had needed a moment of quiet, seeking this long forgotten place beneath the stars.

As Mae moved toward the telescope, she heard him enter, intentionally making himself known as to not startle her. But he did not speak. She wondered when he had noticed she had slipped away; he always seemed keenly aware of where she was, just as she was of him.

The past few weeks--months, really--had been nothing but plotting and planning and fighting. There had been blood, and death, and little time to talk about much else but war and peace. Mae did not mind. It let her avoid the truths she feared to acknowledge.

But she knew she could longer avoid them.

"It feels like ages since we were here," she said finally, a hand trailing over the cool bite of metal. "You are the Master of Birds now." She dug a finger into a groove, feeling moist dirt there. "Anaya says you will make a bow from the wood of the tallest tree." She paused. "And you will choose a mate."

Noa said nothing, watching her from the shadows in that silent, still way of his.

For some reason, Mae could not look at him, even though she could hardly look away during the ceremony. He had been covered in dark blue and white woad, adorned in armor that made him look more a knight than an ape. Master of Birds and Warlord. A leader.

Mae reached up to the necklace she always wore, her fingers playing with Raka's medallion--the symbol of peace and strength. "Nina is a good singer," she admitted. The female was one of the best in the clan, taming even the most wild of eagles.

A beat of silence. And then Noa said, his voice drifting from the shadows, "I do not want...Nina."

Mae suppressed a smile, but it quickly faded. "Soona is a good hunter. And an even better friend." And you were born within a sunset.

Another beat of quiet. And then--

"She is...all those things." He paused. "And family."

Mae stilled, not just at his words, but because he had snuck up behind her. She turned, half dreading what she might find. Noa stood at his full height, intimidating in his warrior's garb. He was hardened from war, but his eyes were still soft as he looked at her.

"But I have...already chosen," Noa went on gently. He reached out, his large hand covering hers over the medallion, his eyes bright. "But this woman...this...Nova...must also choose me."

Mae smiled at him, blinking back tears. "She already has."

His lips parted slightly, almost in disbelief. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his strong hands finding the back of her neck.

"You choose...this?" he breathed. "You choose...Eagle Clan? Me?"

He had once asked her if apes and humans could live together. Then, she had not known. But now, she could see no other future. Noa and Raka, Soona and Anaya and the others, even the humans that had joined their forces, they were family now.

"Yes," Mae answered. "Our cause is important. What we have built is important." She reached up, cupping his cheek. "You are important. To me."

His hands tightened on her neck, no doubt remembering those words, how he had said them to her on the battlefield when he had begged her to run. She refused. She would not leave him and the others then, and she would not leave them now.

Mae closed her eyes. "Together," she went on, "strong."

"Together," Noa echoed, his voice a promise, "strong."

And as they stood there under the stars, ape and human but somehow twin souls, Mae knew, no matter what the future held, they would face it side by side.

Together.

#nomae #noamae #noa x mae #crimsonmoonlightfic #Yes Raka lives how could he not #please be kind its just fanfic

115 notes · View notes

pufflehuffing · 4 months

Text

Serpentine Confessions. (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader) PART 1

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Slytherin!reader (she/her) but her house is only mentioned a few times genre: best friends to lovers, first kiss word count: 4.8k warnings: mentions of wanting to touch her body (smutty part 2) summary: A touch starved Ominis finally admits his feelings to his best friend while holding her hand for the first time. My masterlist.

Part 2 (smut, mdni)

In the confines of the Slytherin common room, Ominis sat alone, his sightless eyes calmly gazing into the quietude around him. The crackling of the fire provided a comforting backdrop to his solitude, as he leaned back against the leather cushion of the armchair. Despite the absence of sight, his other senses were keenly attuned to the subtle nuances of his surroundings—the faint scent of ancient books mingling with the faint aroma of the flickering candles, the soft murmur of distant voices echoing through the hallways outside the common room. Suddenly, amidst the silence, he heard the familiar footsteps of his best friend approaching, each step resonating with familiarity. A smile graced Ominis's lips as he turned towards the sound, anticipation lighting up his features, eager for the companionship and warmth his friend would bring to the tranquil solitude of the common room.

The footsteps got closer, and Ominis recognised the faint smell of her perfume. The clicking of the heels against the stone floor stopped near the armchair and Ominis heard the familiar voice of his female best friend speak to him. They share a bond that defies convention. From the moment they met in the first week of fifth-year, their friendship has blossomed into something extraordinary. The first time they spoke, Ominis had chewed her out. He used to be wary of her, and while Ominis was always wary of connecting with anyone, he couldn't deny the serene comfort the girl subconsciously brought both Sebastian and himself.

The trio effortlessly navigated the complexities of life together, sharing laughter, tears and everything in between. Despite their differences, they complemented each other in ways others can't comprehend. The connection transcended mere friendship. Ominis, Sebastian and her, inseparable and unwavering, stood as a testament to the power of true companionship.

Ominis heard her heels clicking against the stone floor again and it was followed by a poof. He assumed her body had been lowered down in the armchair beside him. “Hey, Ominis. Any news?” She asked casually, though Ominis could still pick up a subtle hint of sorrow in her tone.

He gulped. Something was wrong. “Just a difficult Potions lesson.” He said instead, not lying exactly…just not telling the whole truth. “What about you?”

A long pause. Ominis was almost starting to believe she had vanished into thin air if she didn’t speak up again soon. She sighed. "Just got a letter from my parents. They don't want me to go home for the holidays."

His best friend had her own family problems that Ominis was well aware of. One night, during a drunken evening in the male Slytherins' dorm, confessions spilled between him, her and Sebastian. Ominis confessed that he was afraid of his family, Sebastian confessed that he was deeply insecure about himself and she, the mother hen of the group, she admitted that she felt lonely.

She was going to be forced to stay at the school. Ominis wanted to ask what made her parents do that. But he was still reluctant to talk. "What did you learn about today?" She replied in an attempt to shift the conversation back to Ominis. He let out a deep breath as he attempted to think of an excuse, something that would take the attention off of himself.

He failed. “The same thing as always: how to brew different potions, from simple remedies to more complex, stronger ones. But…I made a bad one, today.” He finally admitted. "I mixed the wrong ingredients together again."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear…"

Ominis shifted awkwardly in his seat and let out a soft groan of frustration. “It’s nothing.” He quickly said. There was another lingering pause between the two, with nothing but the crackling fireplace breaking the silence. He was starting to feel more comfortable, despite it being awkward. And he knew she was probably worried, so…

“Why won’t they let you leave for Christmas?” He hesitantly asked.

She sighed and shifted in her seat too. "They want to celebrate by themselves."

Ominis knew that was a lie. Not an outright one, but one nonetheless. By themselves…Did her parents want to fight? Like his did? Did they want to have…alone time?

“Y…you’ll be alone for Christmas?” he asked, softly, as if he were concerned. He was.

She hummed a flat note in confirmation and cleared her throat. "I've written a letter to headmaster Black to ask him if I could stay in the castle for the holidays."

Headmaster Black won’t say no. Ominis’ mind quickly jumped to that conclusion. Even if he did, Ominis would use his family ties to persuade him. Black would probably not feel sorry for her, that she was going to be alone for the holidays. But, to Ominis, he assumed, being alone meant she was going to be sad.

The idea of her being by herself was unsettling. That it would happen during the holidays, made him feel sick to his stomach, and he was unsure why. Another silence fell between them as they sat in the Slytherin common room. Apart from the fire, the only sounds that could be heard were the waves of the lake outside and the distant bustle of the students in the hallways. The girl broke the silence once again. "What about you? Are you spending the holidays at the Gaunt manor?"

“Yes…I suppose.” Ominis muttered. But that is not what he wanted to do. The idea of being around his father made him squirm in his seat. And knowing that he would have to face his mother, who would absolutely use the fact that she paid his allowance to manipulate him into doing something else she wanted, that too made him squirm. But he wouldn’t admit that to his best friend. He didn’t want to burden her with his problems.

She nodded silently and Ominis heard her pick at her nails, a nervous habit of hers when she was lost in thought. Sebastian would always pester her with it, playfully smacking her hand to teach her to stop it, calling her Mani-Muncher in the process and kicking off another verbal competition between the two. She’s nervous. Ominis knew she had problems like he did. Like Sebastian did. He had never thought she would have anxiety issues. But it made sense she would. And it made him feel…protective. Not in a romantic way, or in the way that Sebastian had always looked out for her. Just in a, “you are my friend and friends help each other” manner, or so he thought.

He turned a bit in his seat, his ears twitching, wanting to comfort her. “Are…you afraid of being alone here?” He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He wanted to touch her, to hold her. To make her feel like he was there. But…she was female. And Ominis had been trained from as early as he could remember, to be careful of females…but how dangerous could this girl really be? She was his friend.

"Not afraid." She began quietly. "I'm just...dreading it."

Dread. A sad, empty word. A word that meant you would, rather be anywhere other than what you knew you were destined to be in. "Dreading it…" he repeated quietly, as if testing the words in his mouth. He let out a heavy breath, feeling more and more compelled to do something…and he realised he already knew what he wanted to do. Ominis didn’t even think. He simply reached out and gently placed his hand over hers on the armrest, and their fingers intertwined. There was a beat, as both of their ears picked up the other’s sudden intake of breath…and then… another beat passed…and her hand tightened over his.

Their hands intertwined.

Her touch made him feel like melting honey, like a warm blanket and a comforting embrace. All at once. Though Ominis was unaware, the female Slytherin kept her eyes fixed on the armrest where their hands melted together. She was fascinated with how soft Ominis' skin felt, how slender and bony his pale fingers were, and how well manicured his nails were. She hadn't realised she had subconsciously started rubbing her thumb against the side of his index finger, but Ominis had.

A wave of fluttering tingles travelled the length of his spine as he noticed the gentle caress.

His hand shuddered ever so slightly in her grasp. Her touch sent shivers down his spine and his ears began burning as a flood of heat washed up from his neck to his cheeks. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to clear his throat and take his wand to guide him back to his dormitory. But, he did…nothing.

"Thank you." She sighed quietly, still surprised Ominis would come this close, much less even touch her. He was always curt and stoic, in the friendliest way possible. Not even Sebastian had broken through the wall Ominis had put up. Sure, Sebastian told her that Ominis had held his hand before, when Sebastian dragged him through the corridors in an attempt to run from the professors after curfew so they wouldn't be caught. But Ominis would've never done that voluntarily. He even felt irritated and ashamed when Sebastian did so. His ears twitched. “Y…you are welcome.”

His breath caught in his throat as he heard her thank him for holding her hand. It made him warm all the way down to his bones. He had broken through that wall for the first time and now, he wanted to…break it down completely.

"I'm dreading being alone here..." She sighed again. "...because I'll miss you and Sebastian for two weeks." She clarified while she thought about the upcoming holiday period where she would be staying in the castle by herself, her two best friends gone to celebrate at home.

She would miss him.

That caught him off guard.

His thoughts quickly jumped to…”why?” He wasn’t as sociable as Sebastian. He wasn’t as fun. What was it that she saw in him? As if to answer his unspoken question, she continued. “…and I’ll miss talking to you.” She admitted, in a soft and vulnerable tone. The idea of her missing their conversations, of those long, late night discussions he had enjoyed greatly, made his heart leap. It was a pleasant, yet surprising sensation.

He squeezed her hand gently, letting her know he was there for her, and she did not need to worry about missing him. She had him. Something clicked inside of Ominis, and he felt emboldened. Before he knew it, he was lifting her hand to his lips and had…kissed it. The kiss was soft. Almost tentative, like he was testing the waters, to gauge how she’d react.

There was silence.

But did that mean it was unwelcome?

No…no, she had not protested, nor had she pulled her hand away. What Ominis couldn't know, was that her eyes were fixed on where his lips met her hand, as if frozen in time and space.

That was not unwelcome…

His other hand curled around her wrist and he pulled her interlocked hand to his lips and kissed it again, just once. This time, longer and firmer. And the room suddenly got much quieter. His second kiss left her almost breathless, and her ears were burning. She had never felt this way about any boy…and her hand tightened tightly around his. He could feel how fast her heart was beating just by their fingers connecting. He felt her pulse, so quickly beating like a rabbit’s. And he liked it.

"Ominis?" He heard her voice, croaky from the disuse. He heard her swallow, gulp even.

And then...

Then he heard a shaky inhale and the sound of saliva gathering on her lips, a sound almost unnoticeable to an untrained ear. Except now it was no longer a mere sound. It was a symphony for Ominis. Hearing her soft inhale left him breathless. And now, he heard a subtle sound of her saliva gathering on her lips; a sound that was like a song to him and it made him want to get to the chorus.

His free hand went to her cheek. His fingers were slender, but he had broad palms. And it was into those palms that he intended to capture her face. His fingers slowly worked their way up her jawline, and then his thumb rubbed against the corner of her mouth, just beside her lips. The sound of her saliva getting sucked from her mouth and back between her teeth was so intoxicating and that alone made him feel heat building up throughout his body.

Another slow inhale, this time, even more subtle than the last…and it was only when Ominis’ thumb made contact with her lower lip that she released a long exhale, her heartbeat intensifying even further. He was so close that he could smell her breath; like a mix of the pumpkin juice from dinnertime and vanilla sugar cookies.

"Ominis?" She repeated in a whisper, her voice low and husky as she looked at her blind best friend. The sound of her voice was like music. He had heard her speak many times before, and…and he had always been aware of how sweet her voice was. But hearing it now, at such a close distance, and under these circumstances, it made it so much sweeter.

“Yes?” He asked softly, her breath still flooding his senses and making him feel so very wanted.

"Have you ever...?" She whispered again and her breath hit his face, and Ominis swore he could taste the cookies that the house-elves had always littered the common room with.

“No.” He thought. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that she was the only thing running through his mind when he laid in bed at night while Sebastian yapped to him about another duel he had won? How he longed for sight, just to be able to have the honour of witnessing a mere flash of her face? How he longed for her to be his first kiss?

"N-no." Ominis whispered bashfully while he pulled on her bottom lip with his thumb.

The sudden movement of his thumb caught her off guard, as she gasped softly. And the action of his thumb pulling on her bottom lip felt like a kiss in and of itself. A tease.

He was teasing her. And she liked it.

Just the touch of her cheek, feeling her breath, feeling her warmth, feeling her lips, as his thumb danced against them… Her bottom lip felt so soft and plump. And he couldn’t help but wonder: how would it feel to kiss her…?

"Neither have I..." She whispered back, her tongue hitting the tip of his finger as she pronounced the 't'. Her lips were starting to dry and she desperately fought the instinct to lick them, knowing Ominis' finger was in the way. The sensation of her tongue hitting the tip of his finger made Ominis blush so brightly that his cheeks felt like they were on fire. And the sensation of her making her voice quieter and quieter, while he was this close to them made him feel like a lion. And she was his prey.

But the moment he felt her wet tongue hit the edge of his nail, he was her prey.

The idea alone caused heat to wash over him, and he wanted to be close to her. To taste her. “I…” he whispered, as he took a deep breath, preparing to be bold. His voice sounded shaky, but the determination he felt overruled his nerves.

“Kiss me.” He breathed out.

There it was. The words, spoken so casually, yet having so much weight.

She was his friend. His female friend. His female best friend who was so close to him in that moment…and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her as if he were a man who had been walking through a desert for 40 days and had just discovered a single drop of water.

The air flowed through his nose, and he tilted his head forward, closing his eyes. He was close to her now. To her mouth. To her soft, plump and pink lips.

In the quiet room, with the fire crackling, he leaned closer. Her shaky breath that she inhaled through her teeth again was so audible it was almost a hiss. She let go of the hand she was still holding on the armrest and cupped his cheeks, her fingers cradling his jaw.

The action of her cupping his cheeks, his jaw, sent shivers of pleasure up his spine. It was too intimate. Far too intimate for the friendship he shared with her, and if there was one thing that he feared, and had always feared, it was intimacy.

But, in this one instant, in this one moment of their interaction — where she now held his face and he tilted his head forward; their faces just inches apart from one another — he desired it.

He craved it.

Their eyes closed, their mouths parting slightly, and then, slowly, and gently, their lips pressed together.

There was a moment of hesitation, and a moment of realisation…and then, as if his body were made of honey and her kiss was the heat of the sun, pleasure washed through him as they kissed. Her lips were soft, and their tongues met, the tip of her tongue brushing against his, and the whole world melted.

Every memory he had of his family, of his father and his mother, were washed away by the sensation of her mouth on his. He felt so safe with her, so comfortable. When their kiss finally ended, she didn’t move. Their noses were still touching.

Ominis didn’t move a muscle when he heard her swallow.

“I…” he couldn’t remember how to form words, as he was feeling too much to think.

His body was on fire. The heat was spreading all the way to his fingers, his toes, his limbs. His heart was still thumping away violently in his chest as if he had just run a marathon. And he felt…happy. So happy.

“Kiss me again.” He breathed out.

It wasn’t a request. She could smell the heat of the words on his breath, as they escaped his mouth. A request could be denied. A command could not.

His other hand moved to the back of her neck. He held her head firmly in place, and did not intend to move it at all. She crashed her lips into his again, and she thanked Merlin and all of his descendants that the common room was empty at this time. Her hands moved from his cheeks to the sides of his neck, with her thumbs on his temples as she pulled him in even closer while they both pressed themselves into the armrest separating them. His fingers moved from the back of her neck, to the soft hair she held at the nape of her neck. His fingers kneaded it, and he pulled her closer, making his tongue enter her mouth, making the tips of their tongues dance together, as if they had both been starving all this time, and this kiss was the sustenance they both needed.

The room still remained utterly silent, and he was glad for that. He did not want anyone — not even Sebastian — to interrupt them. For this, he would take his secret to the grave, if he had to. After their lips parted once again, after a long moment of their mouths separated and they both took deep breaths, he released his grasp on his best friend's neck, yet did not move away. He kept his fingers buried in her hair, keeping their faces mere inches from one another. His breathing was heavy, and he didn’t care whether or not she could hear it. He was still too intoxicated by the taste of her mouth and the scent of her breath. This was the nectar of the gods in his mind.

"Ominis–" she whispered, her voice low and husky, hoarse as if she had been screaming for the past two days. The sound of his name being whispered by her felt like it was the perfect note being sung. It sounded sweet, warm, and inviting.

“You are as sweet as you are beautiful.” His voice came out low and soft, like the purring of a well-fed cat. He had to work to speak, because his thoughts were so hazy and intoxicated by her. He felt almost high and he wished the moment would last forever if not for a single problem…

The problem being, he wanted to touch her. He suddenly realised that his fingers were still buried in her hair and that he wanted to take his time and explore her. From the curves of her breasts and the soft folds of her stomach to her supple thighs. He had never had such thoughts about a woman before, but at that moment he wanted to explore every inch of her body and he wanted his words to reflect that.

“I don't know when I began thinking of you like this, but I have, and I want you to know that you are everything to me in this world. If you would let me I'd like–” He paused to take another deep breath and compose himself. He was raised with proper manners and he was about to confess his feelings with the confidence he was taught as the heir of Slytherin.

“I would like to love you.”

Those words were a whisper, yet their impact was enormous in such a quiet room. His fingers twitched, wanting to move all over her body, to hold her in his arms and protect her. She was everything to him because no other soul had ever given him a sense of home. A true home.

And as he said those words, as he whispered them something clicked in them both. The words weren't said in a shy or tentative way but as a declaration, a promise even. Ominis’ heart beat fast as his thoughts began to come back to him. He was… in love?

He was in love…

“You…you won’t refuse me. Will you?” He asked, his voice growing shaky with anticipation.

He waited. Two long, painful and agonisingly long seconds passed.

Then she spoke, and when she did, her voice sounded different. Lighter and easier, as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She whispered. “I would never. I would never refuse you.”

When she said that, her voice sounded so beautiful, her words so honest that he felt his body grow warm and his pulse beat faster. With those words, she gave him the most precious gift she would ever give anyone. She gave him herself, and she continued her confession.

“And when you say you want to love me…” Her voice grew shaky too and she took a deep breath as her voice broke. “I want to love you too. I… am in love with you.”

In that moment he did not care that he was blind. he did not care what anyone else thought. he wanted his friend. He wanted to kiss her again. His lips found hers so easily and she kissed him back in kind. They kissed like they would no longer be in touch for the next century if they didn't make their time together count. It continued, long and sweet and passionate. Their tongues playing against each other in a slow dance of love, and they kept kissing until they had to take a deep breath, their bodies still pressed together above the armrest.

“I...” His voice came out low hoarse and shaky.

“Yes?” She asked, and her breath was as heavy as his while her voice grew weak and husky in his ears. “ I think you have a question that you want to ask me.” She said softly, and he could hear the smile in her voice. The smile that he liked so much. That realisation was enough to bring a blush to his cheeks and he squeezed the nape of her neck with his hand that wasn’t still holding her cheek.

“Will you be…” He started, but he felt his stomach flutter and his breathing speed up. He took a deep breath to continue. “Will you be mine?” He asked, his voice shaky and breathless, almost as if he was a little boy about to take his first steps or his first plane ride, but what he was really doing… was asking his best friend to be his girlfriend.

He held his breath. The answer would determine everything. Her fingers moved from the side of his neck to his cheek and with her other hand she pulled him closer to him. Their bodies were pressed together so much that he could feel the softer ridges of her ribcage as she whispered. “I am yours. I have been yours, and I will always be yours.”

Her words were sweet, like pure honey that was dripped on his tongue and slowly melted. Her words were warm and they took all his reservations that were left and tossed them out the window. She was his. She had always been his and now she was his forever.

He couldn’t help but feel giddy. It was like she was the first person who actually understood him. Understood his fears, his worries, his desires. He felt seen. He felt like her. Now they were truly bound to one another; two souls intertwined, two halves of the same whole and he knew that he would never…ever imagine anyone but her in his mind’s eye.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt like something clicked. It was as if those words were a key. The key that unlocked his inner self. The key that unlocked the part of his heart that had been sealed. For many years, much of his life, he had lived in fear. Fear of failing, of angering his father. Fear of betrayal…and fear of abandonment.

But now, his worst fear had finally been laid so bare to him that he couldn’t help but smile. In that moment with his friend, in that moment with her hands on him, and her breath on his body, and her lips on his own, he felt free, as if his heart was unlocked after years of being shut away, and now it was roaring. As if the key were no longer needed, as if he could just…let that part of himself loose. “I…” he started to say, but her lips found his again.

"We should–" she murmured against his lips while they devoured each other again. "Go somewhere more private."

His breath caught. His heartbeat grew faster now — much faster — as her words sunk in.

“Yes. My room, or yours?” He muttered, his normally elegant voice still hoarse from their shared kisses. She exhaled against his lips and another wave of her cookie scented breath was caught in his mouth while she rested her forehead against his again. "My roommates are studying in my room. Is Sebastian in yours?" She croaked.

He paused at her breath on his lips, his heart beating fast at the sweet scent of cookies on her breath. “I asked him not to bother me tonight,” he whispered softly, and he felt the corners of his mouth stretch into a grin.

"Why did you tell him that?" She chuckled in response to his quip. "Did he annoy you again?"

“He’s been annoying me all day,” Ominis responded, and his voice was still somewhat hoarse. The feeling in his body was almost overwhelming — almost intoxicating. And he was afraid that it might show on his face and his voice if he didn’t reign himself in, a little bit.

"Where is he? The library?" The girl whispered against his lips, hoping that Sebastian's late night activity would keep him busy long enough to not bother Ominis and her while they were in his dormitory.

“I ordered him to study there,” he whispered, and he pulled back to take a breath. “He wouldn’t dare disobey me. I am his best friend, after all.” His voice was a bit shakier than it was moments before. It felt so strange to be in love, to be in a relationship. And all the emotions were overwhelming him, and he could feel his heartbeat beating fast in his ears and his throat.

She nodded, momentarily forgetting he was blind, and leaned forward to kiss him again. "Shall we?" she whispered back. Ominis felt his body shudder from her kiss and he felt her breath against his lips once again… her cookies scented breath, it was so tempting.

“We shall.” He whispered back, his voice hoarse, and he pressed his face onto hers again, this time for the last time in public. Then he took her hand and led the way to his room, ultimately locking his bedroom door behind him with an anti-unlocking charm not even Sebastian knew to counter.

Part 2 (smut, mdni)

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #bark bark #ominis gaunt fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc

112 notes · View notes

cambion-companion · 2 years

Note

from the prompt list, 26, give me that overpossesive and jealous aemond 🤤

Of course, Anons! Aemond would be an incredibly possessive lover.

Aemond x reader | Kiss Prompts

Masterlist here

26. Jealous kiss

"May I have this dance, Y/N." You were expecting Aemond to approach you with this question, so it was with surprise you looked up into Jacaerys' face.

You were sure the boy had some ulterior motive for asking you to dance, as he fully knew the intimate nature of Aemond's affection for you. You hesitated only a moment before taking Jace's proffered hand and rising from your seat, you were a little miffed that Aemond had not yet asked you to dance.

The Targaryen prince sat at the end of the long oaken table, drumming his fingers on the wood, staring daggers at Jacaerys' brother, Lucerys.

You felt Aemond's gaze shift onto you as you let the Velaryon boy lead you into a jaunty two-step. You weaved around each other merrily, keenly feeling the heat of Aemond's eye upon your back. You made the mistake of glancing in his direction as, with a hand against Jace's, you circled around each other. Aemond's expression made your face blanche, he looked absolutely murderous. Aegon had apparently noticed as well because he was looking between you and his brother with barely concealed mirth.

Jacaerys took both your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and pulling you closer. You heard a clatter and looked over your shoulder to see Aemond rising from his chair, which had been pushed so hard it toppled to the stone floor. The music faltered as the voices chattering within the dining hall quieted momentarily, curious gazes watching as Aemond approached you and Jace with purposeful steps. You felt Jacaerys' grip on your hands tighten.

Aemond's hand gripped your elbow, pulling you slightly away from his nephew. "This dance is over." His voice was low and calm but promised swift violence if Jacaerys did not let you go.

Your eyes searched Aemond's face as he stared down at him, Jace hesitated only a moment before relinquishing his hold on you. Aemond's lip curled with ill-concealed loathing. "Perhaps your...attentions are best suited for your betrothed." He said it loud enough for the room to hear, easing the tension radiating off the onlookers. King Viserys was still in the room, having just given a toast to the family having peaceful interactions, and you sensed Aemond didn't want to instigate anything in his presence.

Jacaerys raised his chin in defiance, voice lowered so only Aemond and yourself could hear. "Perhaps you should pay more attention to your lady if you want to keep her."

You opened your mouth ready to defend both yourself but were cut off as Aemond hissed through his gritted teeth, leaning into Jace's personal space, making the boy look up at him. "The next time you touch her, I will take that hand and make you wear it around your neck."

You had never seen Aemond so livid, and his imposing stance was drawing attention again, so you tugged on the waist of his tunic. "Aemond..." You made eye contact with Alicent over his shoulder. She was looking at your small group, stress evident on her features. "Aemond, come. Let's not make a scene with the King here."

Aemond yielded to your touch, stepping away from his nephew and letting you pull him to the stairway at the end of the room. Jacaerys made a hasty retreat to where his brothers were gathered by their mother. You led Aemond, now holding his tense hand, down the stairs away from prying eyes of nobles and servants alike.

His hands grabbed your waist as you turned to him, looking up into his still-angry face. You reached up, trying to smooth his furrowed brow and frown with your caress. It didn't work, Aemond's violet eye was hard as he scanned your features. Without warning, he grabbed the back of your head, twisting long fingers in your hair, and pulled you in for a scorching kiss.

It was rough, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip as he pulled at you. "You are mine." He kissed you again, causing you to whine softly into his mouth. "That bastard is never to so much as glance in your direction again."

Oh, he was very angry. Aemond's ungentle embrace, almost desperate, told you as much. He pulled back slightly only to catch your chin in his hand. "Say it, Y/N. Tell me you belong to me, as I to you."

"I am yours, Aemond." You reached up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, Aemond groaned into your mouth as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. He opened to your searching touches, allowing you to deepen the kiss. You combed your fingers through his long lustrous hair, reveling in the feel of him all around you, his smoky scent filling your nostrils.

"Aemond? Y/N? Please rejoin us at the table!" Alicent's voice called from the room above.

You reluctantly pulled away from Aemond, noting how he followed your movements with a hooded eye. "Come, my love." You took his hand in yours. "Let's try to get through the rest of this evening peacefully."

You noticed how Aemond didn't offer an answer as the two of your ascended the steps.

2K notes · View notes

thetravelingmaster · 3 months

Text

Short Story: Knowing isn't Everything

Male's Point of View - Hypnosis

“You know that I know right?” She said as she arranged her hair so it wouldn’t bother her for the... Activity... To come.

“Know what Darling?” I asked, amused at the accusing tone in her voice.

But noticing the microscopic pleasure she felt as she heard her little namesake.

“That you’ve been slowly changing me.” She said matter-of-factly.

I had to refrain from smiling. If this conversation would have started a month ago, I would have been extremely worried. Back when we first started down this road...

“I have? What do you mean Darling?” I asked innocently as I watched her close her eyes for a moment.

“Like that name you keep calling me...” she said as she came towards me on her hands and knees. “Don’t think I don’t know that you did that too. Making me feel this way every time you call me that.”

I failed... I couldn’t help but smile. It made me so happy and proud to have been able to reach this stage with her without affecting her sharp mind. Which I found incredibly alluring in its own right. She finally reached me and gently pushed my legs apart so she could scoot closer. Rubbing my thighs as she did.

“Making you feel what Darling? I hope I haven’t been wrong in assuming you liked it when I called you that... I mean... It seems I called you My little Darling for as long as we’ve been going out together.”

She took a deep breath as she let the triggers work their way through her.

“How could I ever mind when it ACTUALLY feels this good when you do? But you are changing the subject...” she said as she teased my hardening cock through my pants.

“Right... You say I’ve been changing you...” I said.

“I know you are…” she said. “Ever since that time we agreed to try it out. I know you haven’t stopped putting me under. Slowly changing me...”

As she talked, she slowly undid my pants, almost stopping at every single notch of my zipper.

“I’ll admit that I had a blast when we tried that…” I said. “Are you saying you didn’t like it? Because I seem to remember...”

“Me screaming my head off with the biggest orgasm of my life?” She asked as she remembered fondly. “Yes I loved it. But again, you are changing the subject.”

She made her point by sharply pulling my pants down. Letting her nails trail down my thighs...

“My apologies Darling...” I said watching her close her eyes again. “You were saying?”

“Yes... hhmmm...” she said, collecting her thoughts as she looked down at the tent between my legs. “I know I can’t remember our extra sessions, but I know they happened. Same way I know that you changed the way I like giving you head.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “Even if I did what you say I did, why would I do something like that? You love to go down on me don’t you Darling? Ever since we started sleeping together if I remember correctly...”

“Hhhmm...” she said enjoying the feeling again. “I did... But I know I didn’t enjoy it as much as I do now. How can I describe it? It’s like...” she said as she carefully pulled my waistband up and over my erection. “I liked it because I knew you enjoyed it and except on unique occasions, I knew it would lead to other fun activities if I stopped before you came...”

“And now Darling?” I said.

“Hhhmmn...” she moaned. “Now I LOVE it. Part of me still feels a thrill at knowing I’m pleasing you... Although I’ll admit I feel it more keenly... But...” she said as she took a slow lick along my shaft, making it flex with desire for her. “Another part of me, which I didn’t have a month ago, actually enjoys the act itself. It brings me pleasure to simply suck your cock.”

Her smile betrayed just how turned on she was.

“But that’s not all you did...” she said as she took another lick. “You also messed around with how I view our relationship... Well... Not exactly... You... Enhanced... Parts of my feelings so I would feel it more acutely... Like...”

“Like the pleasure you feel when you please me?” I finished for her.

“Yes! Exactly...” she said as she took my cockhead in her mouth for a slow suck.

“So... And I’m not saying I did all those things... If I did... Does it mean you are mad at me Darling?”

I watched as she moaned and let my cock pop out of her mouth while her trigger took effect.

“Mad? Hhmmm...” she said as she swung my cock playfully back and forth. “No, I can’t say that I am... Weird... Because I know I should be... You of all people understand how proud I am of myself.”

And I did know. It was all part of what attracted me to her. A month ago, if I would have even hinted that I could use hypnosis to change who she was, she would have blown a gasket! But as it is today...

“I know Darling...” I said as she nodded once before her eyes fluttered closed. “So you aren’t mad... But you still seem to be accusing me...”

“No... Not accusing per say... Just letting you know that I know you are changing me. That’s all.” she said.

She took another long lick as her eyes looked deep into my own. She was hoping I would confirm it...

“Well... Since you were so perceptive about it... I guess I can admit to it Darling...” I said and paused to let her enjoy her trigger. “I have indeed been putting you under for the past month.”

Her smile lit up her face.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“I have been guiding you in those sessions... Helping you become better... Making you FEEL better... And I guess... Taking the reins a little more with every session.”

She was still smiling as she listened to my confession. Which I only did because I felt so confident with her sessions so far.

“So I’ve noticed...” she said as she pointed to herself and her position between my legs. “And I’m just guessing... But you also made sure I wouldn’t mind all these changes right?”

That was a tricky question and the very fact she was bringing it up was giving pause. I thought of how to reply for a moment while she tenderly licked tiny circles under my shaft.

“Do you really need to know Darling?” I asked, turning the tables on her a little.

“Hhhmm...” she said as she savored the taste. “I guess that it would be nice to know for sure... But I have a sneaky suspicion that even if I did know, it wouldn’t change how I feel about this.”

“And how do you feel about all this Darling? Now that you know I’ve been hypnotizing you without your knowledge?” I asked.

“Hhhhmmm...” she moaned with her eyes closed. “I feel...” she said as she opened them to look up at me. “Horny...”

“Horny?” I asked, trying to fake a surprised tone.

Of course, I wasn’t surprised at all. During that very first session, she had admitted that she liked the fact that she didn’t have to think about anything else while we fooled around. Like her brain was blocking out everything except the sexual side of herself. She said it felt liberating. Of course, she never said that she dreamed of being turned into a submissive lover. A sexual slave to my desires... But as I explored her mind session after session, I discovered that she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea if she was made to ease into it slowly.

So I slowly guided her towards what I wanted her to become. Always making sure that each step was slow and enjoyable for her. Always checking in, during our sessions, if she found anything we did repulsive or degrading. She never did.

But the more she changed, the more I realized that she would finally notice. So... I started to work on a very special trigger that would... Help her... 'Darling' doesn't only make her feel extra nice, it also calms her mind. Making it almost impossible for her to feel bad emotions. Letting her only feel good...

Having said this, it isn’t magic... If she is already pissed, it won’t make her all docile and calm... It can only prevent her from making it worse.

But if I keep using it while she is already happy and horny...

“Darling... I’ll admit that I may have helped with that a little... But regardless... Now that you know, would you like me to stop? Turn you back the way you were before?” I asked.

She looked at me and I knew that her sharp mind was going through all the information she had just confirmed. Thinking about it for herself...

My heart raced a little. As much as I loved her as she was before, I had to admit that I didn’t want to lose my Darling. If after all this she wanted me to change her back, I would do it. And she was so close to being ready to call me Master too...

“I can’t say that I want to go back...” she said, making me relax. “Part of me knows I should probably stop this...”

She looked down at my shaft and smiled. She opened her mouth and engulfed me. Completely... In one downward motion... Staying there with my cock down her throat without gagging for a moment before coming back up slowly, sucking all the way until I popped out.

“But on the other hand...” she said as she stroked me with her hand. “I know that knowing all this doesn’t change how I feel. The taste you have... The pleasure I feel when I please you... It might all be fake or... Enhanced... But does it really matter either way? Real or not... I still feel it... And it feels pretty good!”

She moved up and kissed me. It wasn’t an overly passionate kiss, but as she moved away, she bit my lower lip playfully. That simple kiss told me everything I needed to know. It was a form of consent she used when words failed her.

“So you won’t mind if we continue down this road?” I asked.

“Not as long as it feels this good.” She said as she winked. “Now... Enough talk! I need to concentrate on your blowjob if I want to finish before we have to order a pizza because my roast is overcooked!”

“Right! Shutting up!” I said.

She looked at my cock and something seemed to stop her. After a moment, she smiled.

“I guess that blowing you when you get home from work isn’t really my idea huh?” she asked.

“What if it isn't?” I countered.

“It would certainly make sense... Now that I know about our secret sessions...” she said as she smiled up at me. “I’m willing to bet it’s not the only ‘idea’ I’ve had lately that isn’t my own…”

“Certainly possible…” I said. “If you want, we can make a game out of discovering which are which…”

“Like I’d have a chance in hell of winning that!” she said, chuckling. “But I’m game to try and decode your hypnotic suggestions… What do I get if I win?”

“Anything you want really…” I said, smiling wickedly as I remembered that first fateful session. “But if you can’t think of anything specific… I could always double… Or even triple… Your pleasure when I lick you Darling…”

“Fuck…” she said, visibly shivering with delight. “Maybe that would be a little too intense…”

“But fun… Right?” I asked.

“You’re impossible…” she said, biting her lower lip, which told me she was more interested than she let on. “Now stop distracting me so I can focus…”

As she went back down to worship my cock, I just had to smile. Now this was an unexpected door that should make the coming weeks extra interesting.

I caressed her hair lovingly as I started to think up new games her new found awareness would allow us to play...

#short story #Knowing isn't Everything #re edited

78 notes · View notes

letaliabane · 2 years

Text

Caged

on the night of rhaenyra’s wedding, the tension is high between the broken bond of two former lovers. with jealousy brewing, will they fall back into each others arms?

genre: angst, major smut +18!, major jealousy themes throughout, make up desperate sex, slight choking and a spank or two, fluff towards the end

You could feel someone watching you keenly from the corner of the room. More like glaring if anyone took notice of the deep frown, furrow of his brow and clenched jaw as you mingled with the hundreds of guests gathered for Rhaenyra’s wedding.

‘Your lover seems most perturbed this evening Y/N.’

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes towards Laenor Velaryon who came to your side, the man who was to be Rhaenyra’s husband.

Having grown up with the Princess meant you knew the Prince well, visiting often with the rest of his family. And he was one of the very few people who knew about your relationship to the Commander of the city watch, and also about its untimely end.

You glanced towards the Commander. He looked absolutely sinful.

Dressed in dark navy blue, wild curls pulled back to allow his features to be accentuated beautifully by the candlelight that danced around the room.

If you had your way you would’ve dragged him out of the room and showed him who he truly belonged to. He had been on his knees for you before.

But the woman now hanging off of him let that thought burn away from your mind. She was trying to grab his attention, breasts barely covered by her low hanging dress.

You scoffed.

‘I couldn’t less about how he feels. And you know very well he isn’t mine, not anymore.’

The Prince raised his eyebrow, glancing between you and the man on the opposite side of the room who had his eyes locked on you, clearly ignoring the desperate woman beside him who was losing her patience.

‘Jealousy certainly isn’t your colour Y/N,’ He said before drinking the last of his wine. After placing the goblet down he stretched out his hand towards you with a bow, nodding towards the many of the guests who were dancing. ‘But why don’t we give him a show on what he’s missing.’

You couldn’t help laugh, throwing back the rest of your drink, barely savouring the rich bitter flavour before taking his hand, allowing him to lead you through the crowd.

Very soon, Laenor and you had enraptured many of the guests, twirling and dipping to the beat that was played by the talented musicians before continuing to switch partners.

You were so caught up in the moment, in the sudden happiness you felt, that you hadn’t bothered to look over to the corner of the room.

You couldn’t help but laugh, earning a fast twirl from a tall gentleman whose name you failed to remember, only to find yourself in a very familiar embrace, arms wrapping around your waist, hands spread across your back.

Looking up to meet blue grey-hued eyes, those of which belonged to you former lover, faces mere inches from one another. You pulled away, dropping briefly into a low curtsey.

‘Ser Harwin.’

‘Princess Y/N.’

He bowed his head before taking your hand into his, guiding you in the next dance.

You felt magnetised to him unable to break your gaze as you circled one another, hands meeting before he spun you, pulling your back against his chest.

The room slowly faded from existence, and it was almost like old times. How he’d sneak you out an dance with you under the stars, humming a deep but soothing tune, your head rested against his chest—

‘How are you my lady?’

You shivered, feeling his lips pressed against your ear, his beard prickling your skin, daring to press an almost kiss just behind your earlobe

‘I’m fine.’

You despised the break in your voice, the hurt that dripped from them. Harwin held you a moment longer before letting you unravel from him, keeping ahold of your waist as you once more circled each other.

‘I wish I could believe that was true. But I know your are anything but fine.’

‘And what makes you think you know me?’

‘Oh I know you very well my lady, so much that I knew you would try to test me tonight.’

Your eyes flew to him, annoyance rushing back to replace the hurt.

‘Who had a woman hanging off his shoulder. Bet you copped a good feel while you had the chance didn’t you Commander?’

Shaking your head, you turned to leave.

‘Do you think it’s easy for me?’ You heard him mutter through gritted teeth behind you, ‘You think its enjoyable to watch you dance with every brute here with their filthy hands all over you?‘

‘You are the one who ended things between us!’ You hissed, twirling to face him head on, the fabric of your gown caressing his body, ‘You who dropped me at a moments notice and became infatuated with others! You didn’t even fight for us-’

Harwin’s hands suddenly grasped your face causing a moan to leave your lips unwillingly, thank the seven hells for the music and the stamping of feet thrumming throughout the hall.

You wanted to pull away, to look away but it was like his gaze had you in a trance, neck straining as you looked up at him.

‘I would’ve burned a thousand times over for you Y/N. I still would,’ His voice rough as whispered heatedly, his lips caressing yours, ‘I did what was best for you.’

An overwhelming wave of emotion rolled over you, tears springing to your eyes before corroding into a deep rage.

With all your might you shoved him away from you, his hands falling away from your face.

Though he barely moved a muscle, a flash of hurt crossed his eyes. He hated being the source of your sadness. Even with the thundering of drums he heard your cry, tears running down your cheeks.

‘You had no right to decide whats best for me Harwin!’

Before he could move towards you, you slipped into the crowd, weaving through the mass of bodies, escaping his sight at the top of the stairs.

Slamming the door to your quarters, you quickly removed the suffocating gown, unable to handle the heat and heaviness of the uncomfortable material any longer.

Your breath heaved, rushing to undo the bindings of the corset, almost an awful remind of the burden you carried.

A bound princess unable to follow as her heart wishes.

The dress fell from your body, landing onto the marble floor leaving you bare before the roaring flames within the fireplace. Just when you pulled your shift over your head, the loud rapping of knuckles knocking interrupted the silence.

But the pattern of the knock made you look back to the door. A secret knock you knew all too well.

Your feet padded against the floor before you found yourself in front of the door, hand hovering hesitantly over the golden handle. Deep down the hurt still crept, the anger and sadness, and if you opened the door, you knew that would all pour out, perhaps in the worst way.

With a deep breath, you threw the door open only for Harwin to push forward fast, pressing his lips firmly against yours slamming the door behind him with his foot.

For a brief moment slam your fists against his chest but as he presses kisses to the corner of your mouth you couldn’t help but pull him closer, moaning as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

‘I hate you,’ You growled against his mouth when he finally pulled away, tears stinging your eyelashes.

Harwin couldn’t help but chuckle softly, resting his forehead against yours gently, his hand cupping your cheek. You noticed his eyes were misty, the sadness evident.

‘Do you really?’

Your heart broke at the mere whisper. You wanted to say yes, with your whole chest. But you couldn’t.

Closing your eyes you leant into the warmth of his roughened palm, humming in content as his thumb caressed your cheek. Opening your eyes once more, you looked up at him.

‘I could never hate you.’

His smile was gentle, eyes roaming your face, reacquainting himself with all the things he loved about you. Tipping your chin up, he nuzzled his nose against yours before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Exchanging brief but loving pecks before it turned heated once more. He gripped your hair, tipping your head back so he could tease your neck with his lips, smirking at the sounds that left you as he marked his territory before sucking at your weak spot.

Moaning, you ran your own hand through his hair, ripping the tie from it and letting it flying somewhere across the room, letting your nails drag over his scalp.

Harwin growled against your collarbone, leaning up once more to smash his lips against yours messily. Suddenly you pulled away from him, stepping backwards when he tried to grab for you, causing his eyebrows to furrow even as you gave him a wicked smile.

‘Take your clothes off Harwin, now.’

He moaned unashamedly, and you couldn’t help but giggle, trying to retain your sensual stance.

The man that was known throughout the kingdom as ‘Breakbones,’ one of the strongest men, keeled at the likes of you.

Slowly he pulled the blue material over his head, tossing it into a corner of the room. His hands trailed down his toned scarred chest, unbuckling his pants. It was his turn to smirk, watching you bite your lip hard, legs pressed together at the sight of his cock.

He paced over to you, his fierce kiss making you spellbound. So much that you didn’t notice how he bent down to easily pick you up with one arm, bringing your legs around his naked hips and never letting his lips part from yours. He made his way to the classic chaise, sitting down to have you straddling his lap.

You wrapped your arms around Harwin’s neck, feeling the rise of his cock against your inner thighs. Smiling against his lips, dropping your hips lower, you rolled your hips against his.

His head fell back with a moan, eyes closing as the pleasure coarsed through him, large hands trailing to squeeze your ass. Immediately you took the chance to kiss and lick down his neck teasingly, marking his skin just like he had to yours just moments before, continuing to roll your hips.

While you were distracted, Harwin gripped the top of your shift, your moan and the loud shriek of tearing cotton music to his ears. Your breasts spilt out from the shreds of material that fell to cradle your hips before he let it fall to the floor. He leant up, wrapping his mouth against your nipple, his other hand giving the other a squeeze.

‘Oh Gods!’ You cried, eyes rolling back.

Even though the entire castle was at the wedding feast the possibilities of stragglers passing by sent heat straight to your core.

The pleasure became unbearable, the swing of your hips and Harwin’s mouth already setting you on edge. With a weak sob you grabbed his head, pulling his face up to kiss him. You groaned into each others mouths, your naked chests pressed against each other tightly.

Harwin looked up at you, both hands cupping your face. His eyes roamed from your face down your entire body with a loving smile, shaking his head.

‘Your so beautiful.’

Out of all the colourful phrases he had every whispered to you, that made you bashful. You dipped your head away from his intense gaze, smiling as he chuckled.

When your eyes returned to his, you noticed they had darkened, and once more you fell under his spell.

Slipping your hand down between you both, you grabbed his cock, causing him to hiss. You pumped him in your hand, watching his expression and smirking as he whimpered, evidently trying to hold back his noises,

Grazing your nose against his, you stared into his eyes as you lifted your hips and manoeuvred his cock beneath you, allowing it to notch at your entrance before ever so slowly sinking down.

You moaned loudly into Harwin’s mouth who breathed heavily, gripping the cushion hard he was afraid it would rip beneath his grasp. Your eyes threatened to close at the familiar pressure that filled you, savouring it. It had been so long, so so long.

‘Are you okay?’

You nodded as Harwin whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his upper lip in reassurance.

His arms wrapped around you, removing any fraction of space between your bodies. And slowly, you began to move your hips once more, exchanging mere whispers of moans and gasps.

But when the pleasure began to build, the emotions began to gallop within your heart and mind. The anger, the sadness, the hurt from all the months of separation.

The very memory of Harwin, in all his glory and decorated armour, leaving you at the gates of the Red Keep tore through your mind. The words ‘I never loved you’ ringing in your ears.

He may have done what was best for you, and you loved him for it, but no one ever could tame a dragon even if they tried.

Harwin’s eyes flew open as he was shoved back against the corner of the lounge, staring up at you. Your face was an expression he was very familiar with that was anything other than pleasure.

'Y/N-'

But as he went to sit up, your hand shot to his throat, your grip firm. Not to hurt (as if you even could), but to show him you were in charge, and you could see that he knew it too, sinking back into the velvet cushions.

In that moment you were an absolute vision to revel in, sweat dazzling your skin, the fire behind silhouetting your body like a goddess.

And just like that you began to swivel your hips once more; deliciously slow, eyes never leaving his. You watched as his abs tensed, face scrunched in desperation and pleasure.

You growled. ‘Your mine Harwin Strong, and only mine.’

He nodded but you tighten your grip, turning his face to look you in the eye. ‘Say it, I want to hear you say it!’

‘I’m yours my love—I’ve always been yours!’ He gasped, dipping his head so he brushed his lips against the pads of your fingertips.

You keeled at his words, your breasts bouncing as you fastened your pace tenfold. Your hands fell to his chest, trailing against the scars that decorated his skin, nails digging into his chest causing him to roar, his hips lifting to meet your thrusts.

Your body faltered at the sudden pleasure that shot through your body, gasping and throwing your head back.

Harwin took the chance to sit up, his turn to grip your jaw. His expression was firm, voice a couple of octaves deeper, ‘And that means you are mine Princess.’

You cried as he thrusted upwards into you, smashing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans. And in a flash, he had you pressed into the velvet cushions of the chaise, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders while the other held your bottom off of the lounge, continuing to thrust into you hard.

‘Your turn beloved,’ He heaved against your ear, his heated breath batting against your neck, unable to resist nibbling there teasingly. ‘Tell me who you fucking belong to.’

Even if you tried, you couldn’t speak, left incoherent by the pleasure that raked through you in waves, your nails digging deep into the wooden frame of the chaise.

A firm smack to your ass made you squeal, your whole body trembling, bringing your attention to the man over you who smirked down at you.

‘Speak up, I want to hear you!’

Tears spring to your eyes, the pleasure and emotions overwhelming you as you gasped desperately, trying to find your voice.

Your lover noticed immediately, leaning over to press sweet kisses across your face, whispering against your skin reminders that he was right there, that he was with you.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

‘I’m yours—I’m yours! Please Harwin I’m yours, I’m yours!’ You hoarsely cried, not caring who heard you.

You wanted everyone to know you were claimed. No one else could have you. No one except Harwin Strong.

‘Please please don’t stop, please!’

‘Never. I’ll never stop.’

He kissed your temple sweetly before trailing his lips down to yours, his kiss firm as he increased his thrusts. His arm around your back moved blindly before finding your hand, removing it from the wood before entangling your fingers together squeezing hard.

Your nails dug into his back, pulling him even closer. Every time he hits deeper, your eyes rolled back, chest heaving, your climax climbing closer and closer.

‘Come on Y/N, let go for me sweetheart, that’s it.’

The moment the praise leaves his lips, your whole body trembles violently and your pussy grips hard around Harwin’s cock.

You gasp into his neck when he slows briefly, only to return his thrusts harder, sloppily but faster than before. He threw his head back with a feral growl, teeth barred and eyes squeezed shut tightly.

Clasping his cheek, you bring his face back down to yours. You stare into his hooded eyes as his lips graze yours, foreheads pressed together.

Suddenly, his expression faltered and he moans loudly against your neck, his hips tightening and warmth enveloping your insides, whimpering as you were filled with his seed deep inside you.

Weak gasps leave your lips as Harwin continued to press into you with gentle thrusts, before finally he comes to a halt. Too overwhelmed to move you stay as you are, legs shaking around his hips, his hand still holding yours while the other comes up to cradle your head.

Even with the gentle fog that settles over your mind, you can’t help but dot kisses from behind his ear to his shoulder, caressing his back, the whimpers that leave him making you smile.

Moments, or maybe hours later, Harwin barely rolls to the side, most of his body still resting upon yours, hissing softly as his cock slips out of you, resting wet against your thigh.

Silence remained between you, his head tucked against your neck, nose nuzzling at your skin gently.

You whimpered as his fingertips suddenly danced across the skin of your cheek drawing a mindless pattern. You bit playfully at his thumb as it caressed your bruised lips. His deep chuckle reverberated against your chest.

You turned your head towards him with a tired smile, his hand trailing into your hair, bringing your face closer to his.

He brings your still entangled hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle ever so gently, still staring into your eyes. Gripping your hip, he slings your thigh over his hip once more as he rests on his back, bringing you to rest against him.

‘I love you Y/N.’

You smiled up at him, only realising tears were falling when his hand comes up to wipe them away. Leaning your body against his, you slowly press a kiss to his lips.

‘I love you Harwin,' You whispered just for him, running your hand through the hair that fell over his eyes.

You knew he loved you, but fear still dug deep into your heart like a knife. Staring into his eyes, you allowed your knuckles to caress his cheek.

'Please don't leave me again ...'

Harwin felt his heart tear at the quietness of your voice, and the vulnerability glazed in your eyes. He cupped your cheek, 'Never. I won't be making that mistake again.'

Pulling you in close, he pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before letting your head fall to rest against his chest. His hand drifted down your back, fingertips dancing comfortingly against your skin.

And once again, you felt whole.

harwin masterlist - masterlist

a/n: I have never spent this time writing a smut story, nor this nervous to release it! Hope the wait was worth it!

tagged (if your tag isn't working DM me and we'll try and fix it up!): @thesithdiaries @dazecrea @ppeuppeuppeu @a-sunflower-in-bloom @siren-of-the-deep-sea @ccallistata @agoldin @vivilingme-blog @my-dark-prince @derzauberermitlilabademantel @blooomsstuff @starxdame @alexslittlegirl @budugu @piper570 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @words-way-of-life @m1tzifa1ry @gibbsgirl7 @b0xfullofdarkness @hueanhdang @criesinsagitarius @nicolewithanee @starxqt @ateliefloresdaprimavera @akilababs @lakamaa12 @iwillboilyourteeth @littlebirdgot @venus2eros @akinatrix @rainazinha @missusnora @hadesismybaby @b3nzeynep @rosemalachi

2K notes · View notes

oliversrarebooks · 5 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 36: Alexander's Desire

Previous Masterlist Next

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, human auction

Lex was bored.

He was surrounded by vampires all dolled up in their best attire, eager to see and be seen at the most high-end auction in the entire region, and he could hardly bring himself to care. All of the chatter was petty politics and gossip and who-is-wearing-what and who-is-buying-what, and it was hard to feign the slightest bit of interest.

Still, he did need a thrall. His long-time thrall Edmund had died of old age and blood loss after a lifetime of service. He'd been a good thrall, quiet and obedient, and his presence had eased some of Lex's loneliness. His loss was felt keenly. He knew that a good portion of the vampires here, even those who loved their human pets and servants, would scoff at the depths of Lex's grief over a mere thrall. Lex had always had too soft a heart, a fact that his sire never hesitated to remind him of.

Even so, the grief stung whenever he allowed himself to feel it -- whenever he had need to venture into the cold, spotless kitchen or start up the fire himself. He no longer had anyone to read particularly interesting passages of books to or play music for. There was no more wry chuckle when Lex made a mistake. No one to accompany him to the opera or ballet.

He'd hastily skipped the cattle pen of mind-wiped humans -- he found the entire idea distasteful, their vacant eyes unsettling -- in favor of perusing those designated as servants. Every one had bowed politely to him, addressed him as Mr. Alexander, and answered his questions briefly and with civility. Each one had been so enthralled as to lose most of whatever personality they might've had, and it might take years to draw any of it out of them, like it had with Edmund. The fashion of the time, unfortunately.

But his need for fresh blood couldn't be denied any longer, and even though these humans were unappealing in demeanor, his mouth still watered at the smell. At this rate, all he could do was pick out the most promising of the lot, take them home, and hope to coax some life out of them.

How tedious.

How very, very lonely.

There was, of course, one wild card, one wrench in the machine: his sire-sister, Lily, who had pulled him aside earlier that night to tell him about a secret project she had, a thrall that Lex would just love. That was mildly terrifying, coming from her -- Lex shuddered to think what she'd done to the poor human. Lily's skills in conditioning were second to none, but her ideas of what made a good thrall often ran counter to the grain.

He took his polite leave from the sixth vampire who'd stopped him in the hall, eager to curry favor with him and thereby curry favor with his sire, and headed into an ornately-decorated side room.

There, in the center of the room, stood a man with short blond hair, a stunning red velvet ball gown, and a cocky grin on his face. The thrall looked Lex up and down, and his grin only grew wider.

Lily was standing to his side, wearing some frilly pink confection of a dress. "This is the vampire I wanted you to meet, Fitz."

"Oh, this is Mr. Alexander?" said Fitz. "You didn't tell me he looked like this, sir. I might need to take back what I said about not wanting to serve a vampire."

"This is my special project, Lex," said Lily, bursting with pride.

"The special-est, sir."

"Lex, meet Fitz."

"Charmed, sir, both literally and figuratively," said Fitz, bowing with a little flourish.

Lex stood there, stunned, not knowing quite how to react. "Are you... have you actually been... what I mean to say is, are you a thrall?"

"I've been hypnotized to hell and back by Miss Lily here, if that's what you mean, sir," he said. "But for better or worse, she's allowed me to retain my sparkling wit."

"Is that so?" Lex glanced over at Lily, who was looking incredibly smug. He had to hand it to her: this thrall at least wasn't boring. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such life in the eyes of a thrall.

"But enough about me, sir," said Fitz, getting into Lex's personal space. He smelled like lavender and rich, delicious blood, and that confident smile paired with sparkling blue-gray eyes was undeniably handsome. "Let's talk about you. Specifically, why you should buy me."

"Isn't that also about you?"

"You got me there, sir." Fitz laughed.

"Why would you even want me to buy you?" said Lex. "You seem to have your mind intact. You know that you'd be my servant, you'd lose your freedom, and I'd drink your blood."

"I don't know if you noticed, sir, but that's going to happen to every human here, or so I'm told. If I'm going to be a servant and delicious meal anyway, I might as well pick my poison, right? And you seem at least to be a very attractive poison."

Lex had seen thralls fawn and beg before, but he hadn't ever seen a thrall openly flirt. It was nakedly manipulative, of course, but the fact that the thrall was even capable of manipulation was intriguing.

"What are your interests, Fitz?" said Lex.

"The stage is my passion, I'm proficient in magic tricks, passable at fortunetelling, excellent at cards, and dabble in all sorts of arts and crafts and handiwork, sir."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"The guitar and the piano, sir, although I wouldn't expect concert-quality performances."

Lex couldn't help but smile. A thrall that played music, and had his mind together enough to indulge in hobbies! He'd longed for a thrall like this ever since he'd buried poor Edmund. Despite himself, he was already losing himself in a daydream of Fitz in his music room, playing a simple tune on his guitar, filling his bleak and lonely mansion with song.

He shook himself out of it. He couldn't give away his interest too obviously.

"Hmm, let's see," he said, hooking a finger under Fitz's chin and directing him to look him in the eye. His blood smelled like a delectable feast, and it was eroding Lex's self-control. He couldn't hold back his vampiric aura, and he saw Fitz's eyes go wide under his influence. Oh, that was gorgeous. "If I were to buy you, would you offer your blood to me?"

"Yes, yes, sir," he said, now looking more like a dazed thrall, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. Lex had found this fawning behavior uninteresting from the other, more heavily conditioned thralls -- but on Fitz, who just moments before had been bright and alert, it was intoxicating. "Being fed on by a vampire exactly like you is all I can think about lately. Drink, please."

Lex realized that he was far, far too blood-starved to rationally deal with this kind of temptation. He released Fitz from the spell, seconds away from losing himself and biting into merchandise that wasn't his. Yet, came the automatic thought, which he tried to dismiss.

Life returned to Fitz. "You deserve to drink from someone with blood as good as mine, sir."

"Oh?" Lex cocked an eyebrow. "How do you even know that your blood tastes good?"

"Well, a serious looking man in a very dapper suit told me that my blood was top shelf triple-A fancy grade, sir," said Fitz. "He seemed very authoritative, so I'm inclined to believe him utterly."

Lex laughed. It was probably the first time he'd laughed since Edmund died.

Oh, he was in trouble. This wasn't a thrall he would settle for because he needed fresh blood to live. He wanted this thrall. And he didn't like wanting anything -- it was a recipe for disappointment and disaster. And Lily was grinning like a loon. She knew.

"You're going to cost me a lot of money, aren't you?" he said in defeat.

"You're certainly not the first person to say that to me, sir."

Well, it wasn't like money was a serious obstacle to him. While this style of lucid thrall wouldn't appeal to some of the vampires here, the fact that Fitz had the highest graded blood Lex had seen at a local auction would drive his price sky-high regardless of his personality. And unfortunately, Lex already knew that he was willing to pay just about any price for this one. The thought of another vampire buying him, dragging him away by his handcuffs, sinking their fangs into what was rightfully his --

No, this was ridiculous. He had to keep his calm until the auction proper.

"I -- I really should -- I should take my leave and peruse the rest of the merchandise," said Lex as casually as he could muster, as though he hadn't already looked over most of the available thralls and found them lacking.

"Well, you're certainly not going to find anything better than me, but I understand the impulse," said Fitz. "I hope to see you again, sir."

Lex rushed out before he could get drawn back in.

He stalked down the hallway, past chattering vampires, hoping to find a relatively secluded place to clear his head, finally settling on a padded bench in a small windowless nook. His head was spinning with the desire to possess. He'd been starving for both fresh blood and companionship ever since Edmund's death, and still nothing else had sparked the flame of need so deep inside him as this one particular thrall. His mind was filled with fantasy of Fitz playing guitar and singing in the music room, of Lex stroking his fingers through his hair while they lounged by the fire, of how his sparkling eyes would look when Lex enthralled him to feed...

And the way Fitz had entreated him to feed! That was all Lily's deep conditioning, of course, but it seemed so real coming from him, as though his need for a vampire's fangs was genuine. He'd always known Lily was a genius at enthrallment, but Fitz had to be her finest work yet.

Lex tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps, not eager to make pleasantries with yet another respectable vampire, gushing over some empty-eyed, mumbling thrall and asking Lex to convey their respects to his hated sire. He was relieved to look up and find that the sensible black shoes in his line of vision belonged to his old friend Ruth, one of the sharpest minds in the city.

"Good evening, Lex," she said, sitting on the other end of the bench. "I do hope I'm not interrupting some important brooding."

"You're not interrupting anything in particular. The distraction will do me some good."

"So are you not finding anything you like? That's a bit surprising given how long you've gone without a thrall."

"On the contrary, I may have found something I like too much," he admitted, perhaps unwisely. Ruth was also close friends with Lily, and Lily was bound to be entirely too self-satisfied over her little project's success.

"Ah, is it Lily's little pet? He's quite interesting, isn't he? I think I may bid on him. He'd make an excellent clerk."

Lex couldn't keep the half-horrified, half-ferocious look off his face, his baser instincts howling at the idea of having his new toy taken away from him. Ruth cackled. "What's that face? Don't worry, I'm only teasing you. I won't stand in your way -- you're obviously in need of a proper thrall. Or an improper one, as the case may be."

The jealous knot in Lex's chest loosened. He needed to calm himself before the auction proper, lest he make a scene like an unschooled fledgeling. "I appreciate it," he said.

Ruth put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "It's actually quite a relief to see you desire a thrall again. The strict repression your sire tries to enforce isn't good for you. After all, what's the point of dragging these old corpses around if we can't even enjoy ourselves?"

Enjoy himself?

When was the last time he'd truly enjoyed himself? Before Edmund's death, certainly, in the times when his manor had been less lonely, and he'd had quality blood to drink. Even then, it was difficult for him to grasp more than fleeting moments of contentment -- his master's pursuit of perfection over happiness had its roots deep in his mind. Truly, he'd been denying himself for so long, and in so many ways.

He wanted this. He needed this. He was going to own Fitz, and no vampire would stand in his way.

Previous Masterlist Next

I'm sure this will all turn out fine.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #captivity #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

98 notes · View notes