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cowyolks · 1 year

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YOUR GRACE,

PART ONE OF THE KING AU (Part Two Here)

Pairing: King! König x Female Reader

Prompt: As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told.

Words: 3k

Warnings: The dirtiest thing I’ve ever wrote— voyeurism, public sex, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, cum eating, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex, biting.

A/n: König literally means king in German, so we shall play this to our advantage. I’ll be in the corner where I belong if you need me.

MINORS DNI

It was simply disgusting outside. Mud had caked upon your boots, and the blood of your enemies you viciously killed still painted your armor. You looked every bit as wild on the battlefront as you did after victory.

Your breath frosted in the air, a shiver overtaking. You looked forward to taking a warm bath heated by the fire you had already started back in your tent.

That was before you were interrupted by one of the King’s servants, his face reddened upon glancing at your bare breasts, your armor long stripped. Luckily you hadn’t slid out of your trousers, but it was simple to say you were irritated.

You hastily pulled your furs back over your upper half, grumbling at the feeling of clothing upon your back and not hot water.

You shouldn’t have let frustration get the best of you, yet as you marched towards the other side of camp, everything managed to piss you off. Screaming soldiers fighting for rations, horses nickering too loudly, and men that couldn’t help but stare.

“You got a fucking staring problem?” You snarled at a particularly small soldier, who gulped in alarm when he caught the vicious glare you sent him.

A little chuckle broke out from behind you, and your heart leapt out of your throat when you realized it was your King.

His massive form was always a sight to see, except this time he looked even more terrifying. He seemed taller in his armor of glowing silver. Unlike most Kings, he fought amongst his men, so instead of untouched metal, his breastplate was splattered in red and mud. Even his signature hood he wore in battle was smeared with drying blood.

His arm was flexed upwards, holding up the cloth door of the council’s tent. Several men were already inside, all councilors of the senate, none that fought in the battle. You curled your lip.

“Play nice, Maus…” he purred, ushering you inside. You had to admit that the warmth of a fire felt nice against your face, the small shiver of your back disappearing.

“Right…” Your king sat upon his makeshift throne of forged steel, large enough to fit his massive form and have plenty of room to spread his legs wide before him. You sat next to him, and if it wasn’t for the bluntly obvious General’s cloak you wore, it could almost be assumed you were in a Queen’s throne. You sat close together, as you always did in briefings.

It wasn’t hard to guess the affairs the King had with you. Often times the guards would catch you sneaking out of his quarters, your sloppy gait and wrinkled dress being enough evidence to guess the steaming affair. He found joy in the hunt, something he made very clear when his face was pressed to your weeping cunt as his hand muffled your screams of pleasure.

“Are you listening, Girl?” A senator broke you away from your inner turmoil, your sour mood coming back in full force.

“I apologize, sir, but I think you meant General. Not Girl.” Your bite didn’t go unnoticed by the other senators, they shifted uncomfortably in their seats. König let out a little sigh of amusement.

“At ease… we are just starting. She has not missed anything important.” König diffused the situation, and you fell back into your chair with a huff. You’d rather be anywhere than speaking politics with these slimy pricks. You were a warrior, not a peacemaker.

“What is not important is a woman among our ranks. Let alone one that simply serves purpose to warm your bed.” The senator seethed, and you merely smirked at his comment. König would not tolerate this insolence, it would be fun to watch this play out.

Panicked whispers broke out amongst the senators as König stood. His height was scary in its own, but as he towered in a silent anger, he looked even more menacing. His steps were calculated, stalking towards the conquered sand table right in front of the unruly senator.

“You’re so tense.” König joked as his palms fell upon the little man’s shoulders, like claps of dark thunder. Your eyes twinkled as he clamped down.

“I apologize, sire.” The senator squeaked, although the bitter laugh that escaped the giant’s throat made him even more pale. “I shouldn’t be the one you apologize to, but I doubt whatever you come up with would be sincere.”

“I can apologize to the General…” he squirmed, the situation already making you revel in joy, but when your King bent his knee you grew more satisfied, your mouth watering.

“I won’t hurt you… tell me something, senator?” König’s voice cut across the tent, eerie silence replacing his growl.

“Anything.”

“Have you ever felt a pretty woman’s mouth against your cock?”

It was silent, you felt your own heart rate pick up at the question. The silence was enough of an answer, König laughed, deep and threatening. He crouched lower, his eyes level with the senator, his hood still terribly covered in blood. He reached down, pulling a singular dagger from his boot, before placing it against the base of the quivering man’s throat.

“I’m pretty big, she chokes on it most times, but occasionally…” König tilted the dagger down, against the hollow of the man’s throat. “I’ll open her up just right, and her pretty, tight, throat can take all of me to here.” He tapped the flesh, a wicked glint in his eyes as he stood straight again.

“Everyone out! Except you…” His blade stayed planted against the senator’s throat. His eyes happily watching as the council scrambled out of the tent.

“Don’t go far… I plan to have a meeting after I take care of this issue,” he yelled as they left. He sheathed his dagger, a soft pat was placed on the senator’s shoulders.

König stalked back to his throne, his eyes uncharacteristically soft as they met your own steeling ones.

“Come here, darling.” He purred again, you imagined the plunge in your gut was a lot different than the one the senator had felt. You rose from your chair, casting a quiet glance at the senator before stopping a few inches in front of the King.

You knelt respectfully, a gesture that made König’s eyes flash as he glanced down on you through his hood.

You could practically see his teasing smirk through the dirty canvas.

He reached out, his palm resting upon your cheek, then lower to the warm skin of your neck. His touch was like glowing embers, always the one to set you on fire.

“You see this? So very loyal to the King, something I wish for my councilmen as well.” His eyes burnt holes into the senator, a wicked swirling of pleasure beneath his commanding eyes. His palm rubbed smoothing circles against your skin, keeping you grounded and focused on his massive form. You hummed at his compliment, allowing a chuckle to escape the King’s throat.

“She likes to be praised and she treats me so well. Say something nice about her, senator.” König demanded from his throne, his legs still spilled wide as he pulled you gently between them, slotting your kneeling form against the tight muscles of his inner thighs.

“She fights well.” He squeaked like a timid mouse, König tutted, obviously unhappy with the response.

“No, no. About her appearance, like how sweet her cunt tastes, or how pretty she looks kneeling.” His words made you clench around nothing, but you didn’t dare move from your position, your eyes still locked and wavering at his hood.

“She has pretty eyes…” he mumbled, barely loud enough for König to hear. He laughed slightly, a gruff chirp that shook his wide chest.

“Such a pathetic compliment, it’s a wonder why you’ve never got your cock wet, hmm?”

The senator whined, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, but you didn’t pay much mind, your stare falling to your King’s open thighs, where his cock lay tight against his pants.

König chuckled again, the sound musical as he petted upon your hair. “Those pretty eyes are staring at my cock like she’ll go hungry. I feed her well, keep her satisfied and by my side.” His hand patted upon the crown of your head repeatedly—a waiting game.

“But you won’t get to look at her pretty eyes.” König reached to his face, pulling upon his battle-worn hood, he dropped it to the ground with a dull thud.

He was ethereal in a way, simply like a God you had bent your knee for. His messy hair a color of the sun when it set— a dull warm orange. His nose was long and crooked, likely from breaking the cartilage in battle. His face was angled and stern, as if he was a spring ready to snap. His pupils were blown, you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or lust.

He fumbled with his belt, pulling upon the leather material until it hung loosely upon his waist. Finally, he leant back against the chair, his eyes finding the senator’s in disgusting pleasure.

“You know what to do, Maus.”

It was all you needed as a sign to reach your nimble fingers beneath his waistband, pulling down upon his trousers until his half-hard cock displayed in front of your face. You felt no shame as you clutched upon his massive shaft, your fingers barely wrapping around the sheer girth of him.

“Don’t look away, senator… I’ll spoon out your eyes if you do.” He rumbled, just as you pumped him once.

König was definitely putting on a show, releasing a deep sigh that came from his stomach. You knew then that he wouldn’t go quietly, your King was going to be loud, and no one would dare stop him.

“She’s good with her fingers, but near euphoric with her tongue.” He glanced down to you, cradling your jaw before lowering you down to his weeping head, a soft bead of precum leaking from him.

“Come now, darling… you’re being shy.”

With a amused huff you parted your lips, running your tongue down the shaft of his cock, nearly smiling as König hissed. That was real, not just a loud and absurd noise of punishment for the senator.

His hips pushed against your mouth, impatiently rutting his cock deeper down your throat, barely giving you enough time to open wide enough that your teeth wouldn’t scrape against his warm skin.

He pressed against the back of your throat, despite his battle worn body, he’d always tasted of bittersweet cherry wine, maybe it was because he drank so much of it. Always a goblet in his hand when you’d be in his quarters, a book slotted in his other hand. He’d often enjoy a glass while you sat on his lap, doing his best to read you the passage as you warmed his cock.

He jerked up again at your dazed expression, the fleshy walls of your throat gagged around his throbbing head, not being able to take the stretch.

“Shhhh… you hear that senator? Hear her struggle on my cock?” His massive paw wrapped around your head, pulling you back slightly, letting you catch your breath.

“Say she’s beautiful. Say she’s the most gorgeous woman in the whole kingdom. I want you to look at her when I cum down her throat, so every time you stroke yourself with that pathetic hand, you’ll think of my cock…” he brought you down upon him again, except this time you were ready.

“Fuck…”

Your nose hit the soft edge of his pelvis, tears welling in your eyes as he stretched your jaw to an extreme he hasn’t ever reached before.

“She’s beautiful…” the senator quietly squirmed as König’s fiery stare glared back at him. “And she’s all mine, the only woman that warms my bed.” With a final thrust, and your ears ringing at the praise, you tightened just enough for him to spill his seed against the back of your throat.

Your King’s soft whine of pleasure the only thing that propelled you to swallow every last drop of him, despite how much it truly was.

“What a good girl, she swallowed all of me. Not like some common whore you’d have to pay for, hmm?” His fingertip traced under your lip, gathering up your sticky saliva and a drop of him you missed. He fed it to you in a satisfied stupor, obviously his orgasm had fatigued him. Yet, his eyes still swirled with lust, you knew this was far from over.

“Leave, senator. If I hear you even breathed a slight word about my General again, I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs.”

The senator sighed in relief, eyes lowered to the ground as he hastily bowed, leaving the tent in such an embarrassed state you hardly noticed as König hauled you to your feet before settling you against his knee, his eyes playful as he regarded you.

“I think my most prized subject deserves an award, no?”

You pretend to think about it, your mind airy from all of the praise you’ve just received. With a sure hand you reached out, connecting with his jaw. Auburn stubble had begun to sprout amongst his cheeks, showcasing the time spent fighting amongst camp instead of his warm keep.

“There will be others, a lot more distasteful than him.” You warned. König sighed, paws squeezing upon the soft furs bunched on your waist.

“Let them talk. Let them listen…”

His hand wrapped upon the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest until you were tight and straddled against his waist, the cold armrests of his throne digging into your legs.

He wasted no time in kissing your swollen lips, reveling in pleasure as he tasted himself upon your tongue.

He was hot and warm, a summer day in the contrast of the icy battle that had raged earlier. It made you yearn to be under his furs in his bed back home, tucked into his side like some precious jewel. Shivers erupted down your back when he nudged his nose against your chin, allowing him space to sink his teeth lightly in the flesh of your collarbone. You ground down against his bare cock, he grunted at the friction.

You gasped when his hands squeezed underneath the soft parts of your thighs. Effortlessly, your King pulled you up in his arms, never breaking away from your neck as he sucked against the flesh. Still, he knew exactly where he was going, because in a few steps he had you laying flat against the sand table, pieces of wooden carved castles and crests scattering across the surface.

“You looked so pretty sucking my cock, Maus. Never wanted to fuck you more, fill you until you cried,” you gasped, and in one fluid motion König had your trousers down and thrown on the dirty ground. Your bottom half exposed to the nipping cold.

“Never done anything like that with someone looking…” you mumbled, not that you felt self-conscious, but the fact that König would display to the world that you were his.

“Think I’m embarrassed of you?” He teased, before falling to the dirt just as you had previously done. You clenched, watching as the man you served would now serve you.

“Of course not.” You aired out, tilting your chin down to glance at his eyes, rounded in dark sultry glow.

“Good. Because they’re going to hear you, and they’ll know just how good I make you feel,” he growled, before snatching your hips, pulling them against his awaiting lips. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you release a humiliating moan from the warmth of him.

He set to work immediately, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, just as he sucked down hard upon your clit. You jerked, slamming your eyes shut while whining unapologetically when he crushed your pelvis back down against the cold table.

“Sit still, Maus…” he pulled away a moment, slick glistening to his lips as he licked them greedily. He hummed, “you taste divine, you want me to continue?”

“Yes, Your Grace…” you mumbled in a drunk euphoria, barely hearing his growl as heaved your legs upon his shoulders and dipped lower, licking and suckling upon you again. Enough that you were seeing stars, vision nearly black as he added a thick digit against your clenching walls.

It squelched against the tightening flesh, causing a deep moan to flex from your throat, and a hum of approval to fall from König’s lips, the vibration sending you over your edge. He added another finger, wallowing in pleasure as he stretched you.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, “that’s it darling, cum around my fingers, I want to taste it.” You tightened around him, seeing black as you felt yourself unravel, pure bliss falling from your lips as he lapped up everything you gave. He kissed the inside of your thighs, the touch like fire, burning and burning until you were nothing left but ashes.

He slipped his fingers away, the loss of contact making you whine pathetically. Oh, how easy it was to fall into the spell of him.

He laughed, a joyous sound, if it wasn’t for your quivering form. You needed more than just his fingers, and judging by the twinkle in his stormy eyes, he knew it too. He stood tall, his shadow falling over you like a blanket.

“What’s wrong, Maus?” He quipped, sharp canines glowing against the roaring fire in the distance. He knew exactly just how much this was getting to you. How his own fingers were shaking with primal desire, how he needed to plant into you and seek delicate shelter.

Your legs instinctively spread wider, allowing his hips to slot between them. With a slow hiss he stroked himself, your own eyes growing wide at the sheer girth of him, fully hard and wanting. He was always one to split you in two, a precious stretch just for him.

He taunted, gliding back and forth against your slick, up and down, again…again. Just as you were about to tearfully beg he breached your hole, a grunt leaving his lips before his head fell back in desperation.

“Fuck darling… so tight.” He pushed in slightly, half of him clamped and yielding to you. The burn was delicious, just as his hands were when they found purchase of your clothed breasts. He kneaded, just as he pulled out slightly again.

A sharp cry echoed the tent as he pushed back in— a wicked snap of his hips that made you moan. He rutted deep, one hand pressing into the table near your head, his eyes locked on your furrowed features.

“Eyes open, Maus.” He commanded, and you did as you were told, eager to please the King. Your teary eyes flooded with a jerky thrust, the tip of his head hitting your womb. It was pure instinct to wrap your legs around him, allowing him a deeper angle to ravage.

He was every bit a King. His size, his intelligence, his cock. It all dulled in comparison to any other man or woman. A true man of unwavering power.

“You hear her crying on my cock?” He yelled out into the tent, releasing a growl of his own as his cock began to twitch your gummy walls.

Whispers erupted from outside of the tent, some of the senators even commenting on how they did hear, just to please the King’s ego. It only made you moan louder, as his hips snapped even faster at their whispers.

Your hands found purchase around his cloak of woven velvet, roughly pulling at the material until you reached the warm skin of his shoulder blades, the high nearly reaching you as you rose upwards, your nails tearing into his flesh.

The only wound he’d received from his conquest.

“That’s it. Cum on your King’s cock,” he growled, losing himself just seconds after you began to clench, seeing stars in the most delightful way.

You were never one to disobey his orders.

He was never one to deny you pleasure.

With a cry, your walls closed around him, just as he pulled you tight against him, his thrusts sloppy as he rode you off your orgasm. Only seconds later did he pull you into a bruising kiss, your own mouth swallowing his moan as he spilled warm seed inside you, coating your walls in a way of pure unadulterated bliss.

He kissed you, long and slow, not daring to break your connection until he wiped your tears built from shared pleasure.

He was simple nirvana in the form of a man.

You silently whined when he pulled back, his little hiss of relief only making your eyes grow wider in admiration. He knelt again, his stare falling between your legs to your battered cunt, completely and utterly full of him.

He chuckled, reveling in ecstasy at your spent state, and all you could do was stare. With a curious finger, he pushed his seed back into your womb, a glint in his eyes as you moaned out to him at the breach.

“Love to see you full, darling. Maybe the seed will take, hmm?” His words jarred you, so crude yet delicious at the same time. Just as he was.

“They’d be bastards.” You couldn’t help but slur, eyes finding your ripped trousers in the mud.

König’s eyes twinkled as he did up his belt again, an amused look on his face as he tossed you his cloak. It would be enough to get you back to your warm bath. Forget the fuckin’ council.

The giant’s swollen lips quirked upwards, his steps sure as he reached against the table, pulling a long piece of parchment from a draw. With an outstretched hand, he gave it out to you.

You read it over, again and again. Eyes widening more each time you reread. In shock you stood, attempting to ignore the shake in your legs from excitement and from earlier pleasures.

A declaration.

“Marriages are sacred in Royalty. You know that. But being a King also makes you a conquerer, conquering means new land. Land means area to rule. I can make whoever I want royalty on said land,” He rumbled, his chest pressed to your back, just as he pushed back your hair, placing a searing kiss upon your neck.

“How would it feel to be a Queen? My Queen.”

Tags: @mykneeshurt @soapyghost @fante-di-denari

#fuck I don’t know how to end smut #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #König #konig #könig x reader #könig smut #konig x reader

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List

here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚

Clockwork - @sgt-seabass

When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)

The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.

For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis

Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex

Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll

In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.

Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd

It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Guiding Light - @wkemeup

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

The Witness - @wkemeup

Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?

He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?

Just Try - @waiting4inspiration

Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.

Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration

Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.

Red Ties - @sebstan2020

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Delicate Edges - @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie

After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

Appointments - @noctumbra

bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.

Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark

Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.

Its A Deal - @justreadingfics

You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.

The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

Snow - @delaber

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark

After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?

Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine

every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)

Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles

James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs

you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)

Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13

The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.

Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513

Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught. Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes. Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)

#chxrrys fic recs #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic recs #fic recs #sebastian stan x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

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Her Words

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction and the backlash from your family | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: You all asked for a part 2 so ask and you shall receive! Again thank you for the request on this one it was really fun to write :)

Warnings: hitting, some sexual suggestions

You could feel your handwriting getting progressively worse as the weeks went by.

That was one thing you had not considered as a side-effect from spending so much time with Aemond.

Every hallway, every corner, every walk in the garden. There was always some off-chance that your paths would cross. And every time this coincidence seemed to happen, there was a stupid smile on your face and your hands grip on your notebook seemed less and less. One a few of occasions he had dared to close the space between you, whether it was to brush a hair from your face or to run a warm hand over yours. All of this serving to send warmth to your cheeks that a smile that reached your eyes.

Nobody was more surprised of this behaviour, than Aemond himself. Though he would never admit it to himself.

He had already gifted you one book, written entirely in cursive Valyrian, promising to read you through it, to teach you how to pronounce the words like a native. The book had been kept well and separate from the rest of them in the library. The cover was a wine colour and there was not a rip on it.

And when he extended the book out to you, your hands delicately traced the patterns on the front, inspecting all the details as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Your eyes had found his, wide and bright with gratitude and a slight film of tears coated them, mouth pulling into a line to stop yourself from crying at the kind gesture.

"Ziry iksos issa jaelagon naejot rȳbagon ao pikībagon bisa, issa riñnykeā"

When he spoke Valyrian, it almost seemed too perfect. His voice was suited to it, and it was a shame that he could not speak it all the time. The way he formed the words, his intonation, all serving to set off a spark inside you. And at the notion that he spoke only to you. For you.

It is my wish to hear you read this, my lady.

The words were sweet. But you relished in the way he said them more so.

The book nestled in your arms, you looked down, trying to hide the blush that very quickly was heating your face from the Prince before you. Your hand smoothed over your clothed arm, picking at the wrinkles in it with anxiety. Your hand went to your side and the mind raced at the notion that your notebook was not there.

And he was stood before you, regarding you and the way your anxious face formed being separated from your notebook. Of course, it had not been an accident. You had dared for this day to leave it behind, but now the space where it would have been seemed endless. Like those soldiers who return from battle with a limb missing, but still feeling it, still being able to control it.

Your eyes briefly met Aemond's and he could see the panic in your eyes. And you need not be panicked or anxious, you knew he was patient and kind, despite appearances.

"gūrogon aōha jēda…" He said quietly, he had his hands laced behind his back and his good eye looked down on you softly.

Take your time.

He looked so peaceful it bought a pain on your heart. Nobody was as patient as him. Nor had anyone in the past been.

You send him a ghost of a smile in thanks, looking away to pull in a long breath of air, so much so that your lungs ached. You let yourself exhale first before bringing another burst of air in, mouth open to form the words,

"i-iska…no, iksā to-l-lī sȳz…" you manage, the nerves being the cause of it more than anything, "…d-dārilaros Aemond…"

You are too kind, Prince Aemond.

You dared look back up at him once you'd finished the sentence. There was that look again, the darkened look he always gives you whenever you say his name. Your grip on the book tightened once again seeing him take a step towards you and he could hear a breath get caught in your throat. He was so close you could see all the details of his dragon-shaped clasps on his tunic. So close you could smell his scent around you. So close that you thought he might touch you.

"nyke hae ziry skori vestrā ñuha brōzi…"

I like it when you say my name.

His hand came to a lock of your hair at the side of your face, running the strands through his dextrous fingers. His other fingers ran across your jaw, sending a chill through you, only to come to rest his palm on your cheek. His motions were so slow and calculated that it sent a heat through your body that settled in your stomach. You swallowed back, suddenly nervous in his presence, even more so when you felt his thumb trace the outside of your lip.

Your eye never moved from his.

"ivestragon ziry aril"

Say it again.

To anyone else it would have been a command. But he seemed desperate to hear it again and a shuddered breath came from you again.

And before you could even prepare yourself, do all your breathing and calming, the words seemed to pass your lips as naturally as the sun rises over the horizon.

"Aemond…"

He was so close still, a smirk on his face and a smile on your own. All anxiety seemed pressed down below the surface, replaced with something new. Something you thought you would never experience.

Desire.

A desire for his company. For his understanding and patience. But also a desire for him. For him to be pressed to you as if in need and desperation. You could feel your throat constrict at the mere thought.

"kostan ūndegon skoros iksā otāpagon…" He started.

I can see what you are thinking.

"…ñuha riña"

Against his better judgement, he withdrew his hand from you to place behind his back once more, standing back to revel in the effect he had on you. You knew what he was doing and it was not original in the slightest, but it still made you smile bashfully, fingers desperately gripping the book he had given you.

He cleared his throat as if he himself was also nervous, " kessa nyke ūndegon ao tolī…tolī ñuha gūrēñare?" he asked. Shall I see you later, after my training.

You nodded in earnest and watched as he turned to leave, his gaze on yours the entire time until his back faced you. Marvelling at his form as he walked away, he took one more glance back before rounding the corner and you wondered how someone could be so expressive with only one eye. And yet even the smallest glance could send a spark through you like no other. That, combined with his words, was the greatest pleasure you had known.

Even the way he walked away served to stir you so. The way his long legs carried his strides and the way he commanded his space with his form, such confidence at face value and yet so often, in your shared language, he had said that it was not always this way. He had learned the cold stare of feigned confidence through the many years he spent hiding himself away, learning to use his words as his weapon and training his body to be his deadliest.

Who would think that a man like this could be so gracious in the presence of a woman.

Of you.

Hurriedly, you half-ran back to your chambers, letting out a deep breath at being alone and able to let out your thoughts on the man. The book he had gifted you was placed lovingly on your bed as a maid softly knocked at your door. All you could do was face the mirror and uncontrollably smile as she loosened the ties of your dress, pulling the gown off your shoulders to pool at your feet.

"You seem in good spirits, my lady" she remarked, preparing the other dress to be worn at the feast. You could tell that when she said it, she was smiling, "Would the Prince have anything to do with that?"

In the mirror you met her gaze very briefly and shrugged, her hm in response seemed to satisfy her question. Without pressing any further, she draped the dress at your feet and once stepped inside pulled the heavy garment up your body to fasten at your front. This maid was quick about her work and laced it effortlessly at the front and at the back, using metal ones at the front that were coated with gold to compliment the deep forest colour of the gown.

Once the skirts were smoothed down, you observed your figure in the mirror. It was quite possibly the only thing you wore which truly fit you and it was here you felt you looked truly beautiful, for the first time maybe ever. All the small gold fastening attached at the front reminded you of the endless times you had seen Queen Alicent with her seven-pointed star accessories, and you thought she had looked beautiful then.

One your hair was styled the way you preferred, not overly braided, the maid stepped back to admire her own work.

"Beautiful, my lady"

You nod your head in thanks as she takes her leave.

You yourself look on your silhouette and shake slightly. To be his betrothed is one thing, but to be his wife. To tame the blood of the dragon. You felt underequipped for the task at hand.

But you had already conquered him. You just did not know it yet.

You had been seated at the table for some time with one of your older brothers before people started to file into the hall. Of course, this wasn't the first time you had been in this room but it had been so altered for the feast that it was unrecognisable. There was a long table in the middle of the room with a red tablecloth and many candles decorating the middle, their flames barely flickering the room was so quiet.

Glancing over to your brother, he had his head in his hand, probably severely hungover. His eyes were closed so tightly that you thought that he might be in pain, and you half thought to ask him if he was alright but decided against it. For he had not spoken a single word to you in the weeks your family had been guests to King Viserys and Lady Alicent.

With a sigh you smooth your hands over your gown and clasp your hands together, sending a glare over to your brother who whispered shut up at your sigh.

You could not even make sound in front of your family. The kindness served to you by Aemond had made you realise how badly they treated you. Especially your father.

The echoes of fast footsteps broke you from your trance and you looked over at the entrance to see you older sister, arms hurriedly beside her in her half-run and a fierce stare tracking the room.

Her daggered eyes landed upon you, finger pointed in your direction.

"You!" the words came from her like a stab.

Her fierce look had you on your feet, a questioning look on your face as your sister made for you across the room, your eldest brother not far behind in his own half-run. The other drunken brother furrowed his brows in curiosity and all time seemed to slow as your sister threw all her weight into her palm to strike you across the face.

You could barely register the pain in your face until you looked back into your sister's hateful eyes which is when the pain started to bloom across your cheek and jaw. More shocked than anything right now, you raised your hand to your now burning face to touch, it was not sore yet but it certainly would be. Your sister looked unnaturally angry, so much so that the lines around her mouth were now visible and she was shaking. Her eyes were scrunched up with her expression, mouth hanging open slightly to say something.

"You fucking whore" she spat at you, her hand came to your bare arm to twist the skin there and you let out a cry at the pain. But she would not let go and seemed to dig her fingernails into you even further, even at the sudden presence of your eldest brother and entrance of your father.

"What is the meaning of this!" your father's voice boomed but your sister never took her eyes off you. Afraid that if she would, you would escape her tight grip.

"How did you do it, hm?" she asked, eye boring into you, "The Prince could not have fallen for an idiot like you…"

Your mouth formed into a flat line in an attempt to deflect her unkind words, pushing the brewing tears back, but an ever-present feeling was there also. Anger.

"Let her go, sister" Your eldest brother was at her side, hand hooked under her arm to pull her away. Not one look from him was given to you.

Your father was not far behind, his booming voice aching for his daughter to release her hold on you, noting the arrival of Queen Alicent into the hall, who looked shocked at the whole situation.

"What did you do then, fuck him?" she snapped and you could feel your anger bubble inside of you. Mouth open ready to say something, the familiar block stopped you, but your sister was so close, so you thought to opt for a whisper if nothing else. You could no just stand idly by while she disrespected you. That is something you had learnt from him. In only the few weeks you had known him, he seemed to have taught you more than your family ever had.

"N-n.." you start, and a moment of surprise passes on your sister's face, but the anger remains, "…not all of us…h-have to…"

She seemed to mull over the words for a long time, fingernails pushing so hard into your skin you were sure there would be bruising and welts. And it was as if it was a language she had not know, you could see her bounce the words in her head. Or perhaps she had never bothered to hear for the sound of her sister's voice before.

It all came down on your sister so quickly and she let a sinister smile pass on her face at the understanding of your words.

"You dare take the Prince from me…" she cursed, her grip tightening like a vice once more around you and you closed your eyes once more to brace yourself for another strike.

"Care to tell me why your hands are on my betrothed?" a voice rang out loud and deep and your eyes popped open again to find Aemond at the doorway, hands ever clasped behind his back, his cold, hard stare at your sister.

Her head spun around with such speed, you thought it might pop off and her confused gaze met the Prince's, but it was not long before a sinister smile returned, her hands still on you.

"I am your betrothed" she returned.

Aemond turned his head so that he could face the sister straight on, nothing needed to be said, saying enough with his gaze entire. The room seemed deathly quiet as he took his few steps towards your sister, his eye never met yours, not even once. There was danger in the room and he felt he had to address it.

"Aemond…" Alicent muttered, trying to distract him. But it was no use. He was trained directly on your sister and you could feel her façade slip away by the second as she shrunk under his look.

"Release her" he ordered. When your sister did not move, he sent a hooded glare down at her, "Now"

It was clear your sister was too out of it to move, so your eldest brother pulled her towards him, with no resistance. Your groaned in pain as your sister's fingernails came from your skin, leaving red half-moon shaped marks on you. Aemond's hand was on your arm instantly, inspecting the damage your sister inflicted on you, his touch soft against the violence that had ensued before. His fingers traced the marks before allowing his eye to meet yours and then your cheek, seeing the way the skin was inflamed, red and no doubt sore.

It was difficult to gauge his emotion at this time. But all you knew it that he was angry.

Turning to your siblings and father, he took your arm softly to push you behind him, whispering to you softly.

"Gaomas ziry ōdrikagon?" Does it hurt? He asked.

You could not dignify him with a lie and simply replied quietly, "M-mirrī…" A little.

Aemond could not tolerate anyone laying a hand on you, and you seemed to understand this as he faced your family.

"What was that?" you father asked, wide-eyed and staring at you. Silence filled the room once more and your father shuffled embarrassed, "Answer me"

"She spoke" your sister said, "So it does speak"

Her laugh filled the room, that cackle that Aemond hated so much. The one that inspired him to cast her aside, now even more annoying.

"You mean to me that you can speak all this time?" your father says, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "And then once in the company of the Prince, suddenly your idiocy is gone?"

"She is a whore" your sister seethes, but your father orders her to be quiet.

"I would suggest you use different words " Aemond warned, his voice low and protective in the face of your family.

The otherwise quiet Queen Alicent seemed to step forward, using her body to separate the two parties. For a long time, she had been the dividing force between families and had no issues stepping back into that responsibility now.

"That is enough" she said softly, her eyes forever on your father, "My Lord, no promises have been made regarding joining our houses"

All at once, the reality of the situation seemed to hit your father. His face changed from one scorned, angry and exhausted to something more hopeful.

"He is meant to be my husband!" your sister called out, eldest brother still holding onto her arm. She looked positively furious and with the opportunity would most certainly have broken free to wreak havoc once more.

"Be quiet" your father warned. Looking towards you, he jutted his jaw upwards, feeling as if suddenly he had the upper hand, "This marriage will still benefit us no doubt and you have done this family an unexpected favour, your Grace"

Alicent wasn't enjoying a moment of this and simply looked onwards, almost dissociated. Your father's tone seemed predatory, his gaze creeping back over to you and Aemond. Your fingers rested on his hand, delicately gripping him and thanking him for his support in this awkward situation.

Aemond cocked his head, knowing your father had more to say.

Stepping forward, your father dared to glower at the Prince.

"You have taken this halfwit from me, at last"

It was clear it was aimed to set Aemond off. And it had almost worked as the man before you went to take a step forward, only to be met with your hand on his chest. Confused, he looked down at you but you simply shook your head. His look was difficult to decipher as many had often said before you, but you refused to allow him to act how others perceived him, so with a soft hand on his chest you gently pushed him back to take your place before him. One hand slipped into his, you faced your father, who had a sick, satisfied smile on his face.

You could see his gaze waver slightly when you went to open your mouth.

He was the one you feared the backlash from the most. Mother, at least, had been somewhat patient and accepting until her death. But after that, it only served to turn your father bitter. If he would not be patient for his other children, there was little hope for yourself growing up with any form of endearment. What could be expected of such a man.

You felt the familiar slam of a block in your throat, and you swallowed heavily, squeezing Aemond's hand beside you. Grounding you. With a deep breath, you looked back up to your father. He would not interrupt you this time. He would not best you.

He could not have the last laugh this time.

"You…" the words came out forcefully, almost clumsy. But no block in sight, "…are no father…t-to me"

The room was deathly quiet and more than anything, everyone was just shocked. You watched your father's face carefully and saw the raw shock that was so clearly there and you hadn't realised just how tightly you had been holding onto Aemond's hand until he squeezed back, a very obvious proud look on his features.

You took a glance about the room once the silence had become uncomfortable, your siblings sharing their own form of shock in equal measure. A sudden feeling of self-consciousness overtook you and you looked over at Alicent and finally Aemond.

Alicent looked entirely neutral if not a little amused, but Aemond did not have to hide his amusement, his lips turned up into a very clear smirk as his eye looked down at you. You dared to send him a smile back, secretly proud of what you had done in the spur of the moment.

"I think it is time for you to leave, my Lord" Alicent said, cutting through the stony silence, "The King and I will send the terms for the marriage in the coming days"

The father looked wordlessly over at the Queen, now haggard and expressionless.

"I trust the matter is closed"

"Hm" was your father's only response. He gave you somewhat of a glare before turning his back, his own hand clamping around your sisters to drag her out of the room. Your brother's seemed to give Aemond a look before following also, the eldest dragging the middle by the cuff of his shirt.

You let out a breath and your shoulders dropped, now relieved of the pressure. Aemond squeezed your hand again,

"T-tolī o-o…olvie?" you ask. Too much?

He shakes his head with a chuckle, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, "Daor, īles vok"

No, it was perfect.

The weight of the burden your family was apparently very hefty, for as they arranged their hasty departure the next day it did not seem to bother you to see them off.

You would happily spend the afternoon sat beneath the Weirwood Tree, book softly placed in your lap. Aemond leaned against the tree behind you, reading over your shoulder as your eyes darted across the words scribbled on the page, fingers at the corner ready to turn with excitement.

Aemond smirked knowingly as his eye caught your family passing the gardens, the servants carrying their luggage. Your father leered over, a gaze that could kill settling upon the Prince, but the only thing that could occupy the space between you both was the sound of you reciting the book before you. The one he had given you as a present.

He sat by, watching every now and then as the line formed between your eyebrows at a particularly difficult word, taking staggered breaths to get the long ones through in a single utterance. And for a moment, watching you reciting the text, Aemond swore he saw the passing of regret pass over your father's features.

Your words seemed to be suited to Valyrian, Aemond so often thought, and even now as he listened to your words from the history book, he took a lock of hair between his fingers to play with the strands. A chill ran up your spine at his hand on your neck, pushing the hair away, the smooth skin hiding beneath now exposed to the cold air.

His hand remained at your nape as you finished the sentence.

"Rȳ z-zȳha…sȳrje…sk-skorkydoso gaomas…b-bisa pikībagon?..." How does this read? you pause to ask, a finger pointed at the page at an unknown symbol. Aemond sat up and leered over your shoulder at the spot,

"Valyria"

"Oh" you answer, now feeling stupid, but chuckling in response. You carried on, Aemond's chin now resting softly atop your shoulder.

"Valyria iksin se….ro-rovaja oktion isse se vys. Iemny ziry..."

"Lemnȳ" Aemond corrected, smiling.

You sigh and push the book closed to place beside you, looking up at Aemond's smug face, he was so close now that you could see the stitching of his eye-patch and a shuddered breath came from you at the hand that was still placed on your skin. His eye was once against hooded to look down at you, perhaps you would never get used to the feeling that gave you.

"Ao pikībagon sȳrī" You read well.

"e-emi mērī..sssepār rhēdan" We have only just started. You shake your head at his words.

"Nyke hae aōha elēni…" I like the sound of your voice, he trailed off and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliments. Truthfully, you loved the sound of his more. Especially when he spoke Valyrian. It being your shared language, there was a certain intimacy to it. And you found yourself wondering if he would speak it during…

Your sinful thoughts were cut off by his hand on your jaw, turning your face towards him. If he was close before, now he was even closer, and you held your breath and searched his eye for his intent. He was smiling down at you, finger softly dragging across your skin and it seemed like there was nothing more romantic than saying nothing at all in this moment. Eyes zoned in on him, you opened your mouth to say something, his name.

"Aem-"

His lips interrupted you and you could feel how his softness pressed against you, body heated instantly just purely with his touch. All that fire that burned in his blood, pumped around his body, to be pressed against you now; it burned so nicely that you smiled in his kiss. Allowing him to slip into your mouth as you smiled, the warmth enveloped the two of you and you hand was softly pressed to his chest, grasping the collar of his coat, perhaps in an effort to pull him closer. Aemond groaned with need, sending a vibration of desire that descended through you.

You had never felt so wanted in your life. And Gods, it felt so nice to be wanted, to be needed.

Time seemed to pass so slowly when he had you like this and the desire deepened more so when his hand cupped the back of your head, pressing further into you. A ghost of a moan left you which only seemed to spur him on more so, running swiftly out of breath.

"Aōha udra…" he broke away to whisper, forehead resting on yours, "…nyke jorrāelagon tolī"

You smiled, eyes closed and enveloped in his scent, his love. It was other-wordly.

Your words. I need more.

Taglist: @candypurplebutterfly @vainillasmil157 @ysa-psa @angelaevangelion @bellaisasleep @random-human02 @guardian-of-the-imagination

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remuslovebot · 1 month

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Wildest Dreams | BW

pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything

a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

☽☽☽

Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.

You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.

You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.

Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.

Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.

You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.

One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.

“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.

You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.

Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.

“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”

As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.

You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.

You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.

“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.

“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.

Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.

“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.

He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.

You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.

You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.

Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.

You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.

It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.

Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.

From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.

“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Good,” you smiled contently.

#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #chrisitan bale batman #Batman #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #the dark night x reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #dc comics #christian bale fluff #christian bale x reader

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lxvvie · 7 days

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Couples shit with Simon Riley, Modern Harefare edition:

I've talked about Simon with Pup (the dog) and Spectre (the cat), but what if the family pet was... a rabbit?

Meet Thumper, the cutest, most adorable Lop... that Simon wasn't expecting. At all. When you said you were getting a Lop, he didn't think it'd be a... a bloody rabbit. And thus a war in your home was started, one of epically adorable proportions.

Simon is convinced Thumper wants him dead. For a variety of reasons. Reasons that include waking him up at the ass-crack of dawn by sprinting across the bed and catching him mid-snore when Thumper hits his head. Yeah, luv, the bloody rabbit wants him dead.

It's that and catching Thumper nibbling on his clothes with no remorse. Because he wants him dead.

And it's also Thumper... thumping his way through life, throwing adorable tantrums because "I just gave you some lettuce, Thumps," or, "Can't eat my biscuit, mate." It's fuckin' psychological warfare, the things Thumper does to him, luv. What's so bloody funny?

Perhaps you've noticed that whenever Simon is scrolling on his yee-yee ass phone, Thumper jumps on him and knocks the phone out of his hand. With no remorse. Because he wants Simon dead. Alright, mate, if it's a bloody war you want, it's a bloody war you get.

Simon retaliating in kind, responding with psychological warfare of his own. "Gotta disarm my opponent," is what your soldier says, as he gives Thumper his favorite treat: a banana. All to throw Thumper off his game. Know what else Simon does?

Clean Thump's hutch when it's his turn. He makes it nice and comfortable again all so his bunny child can rage and thump and... mess it up in rebellion. Again. Simon can't help but be amused and chuckle. The tide's turning in his favor, sweetheart.

Whenever Thumper jumps on him, Simon... pets him. To throw him off his game of course. No thumping formed against him shall prosper. Sometimes. And when Thumper does thump in rebellion, Simon gently admonishes him like the honey bunny dad that he is. No, Simon, you're absolutely not laughing at him giving your pet rabbit a whole-ass lecture.

Bond with Distract Thumper with the game on the telly. Goes good for Simon 'cause it puts his thumping to good use whenever they miss a goal. Yeah, he feels the same way, Thumps. Now Johnny has bragging rights for the next couple of days or so until his team inevitably lets him down again.

Let Thumper follow him throughout the house for the most part. You have to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, luv.

And you know the most effective war tactic Simon has at his disposal? Cuddles. Because Thumper loves his cuddles and how Simon picks him up and nestles him in his arms. Better yet, it's when he lightly scratches Thump's head, lulling him into a false sense of security... and sleep. "Think I've won this war, sweetheart," Simon says as Thumper rests comfortably in his arms. Yeah, Simon, you sure did. And when you suggest putting your bunny baby down so he can nap some more, Simon looks at you as if you had two heads.

#2queued4u.#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern lovefare.#simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #x poc reader #x black reader #task force 141

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axelsagewrites · 8 months

Note

Hii girlie,

can you please write a fic for Harwin Strong? Him & Targaryen!reader already got 5 children and have no plans of stopping anytime soon when it comes to making more babies🤭

Thank you❤️

Harwin Strong*Breakbones

Pairing: Harwin x wife!targ!reader

Word count: 1731

Warnings: talks of pregnancy/kids, teasing, p in v sex, breeding kink, rougher sex (not extreme), biting, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

it was the little things that made life so good. like rolling over in the morning and directly into the sleeping arms of your husband who even in his sleeps wraps you in a tight hug. you smiled sleepily against Harwin’s bare chest, placing a gentle kiss to his skin. times like this made you appreciate your older sister even more since you weren’t forced into marrying a cousin or nephew but instead your sworn protecter.

you were snapped from your thoughts as you felt Harwin place a tender kiss on your head, his hand moving to slowly stroke your back. “Good morning wife,” he mumbled into your hair like he did all mornings. “Did you sleep well?” he asked as his fingers moved to slowly brush through your messy bed head.

“I always sleep well with you by my side,” you mumbled against his skin, nuzzling into his chest as his nails raked against your scalp in just the right way.

“Then I shall never leave it,” he said with a sleepy chuckle.

“Good,” you said as you forced yourself to lean up so you could appreciate your husbands’ features, “But im afraid we must get up,” you said as you placed your hands on his chest to push yourself up, but you were stopped by Harwin’s arms wrapping tightly round your waist, “Harwin,” you whined but it came out as more of a laugh.

Harwin chuckled at your attempt to wriggle free, but his strong arms easily locked you in place, “You’re not going anywhere love,” he said as he stole a quick kiss, “I cannot leave your side remember,” he teased.

You sighed and tried to put on a serious face despite the urge to giggle like a young lady at court, “But what of our responsibilities? you have to train the new guard recruits,”

“We have other fine soldiers. let them train them,” he said, brushing the hair out of your face to gently hold your jaw, “I have marital responsibilities to attend to,”

You weren’t able to stop your giggle this time, but your protest did not end, “What of the children? I need to ready them and make sure they do not try miss their classes,” you said, settling into his chest as your protest turned to just words, “You know how fussy Rhaya gets when I am not the one to dress her,”

“Our children are lucky to have you as a mother,” he hummed making your heart warm. you had done your best to be a true mother to your children despite many of your station passing them off to others to be raised. “Maybe another lucky child will join us soon,”

you rolled your eyes with a light smile, “I have already told you the maester confirmed it was all a mistake. I am not with child,” you said. initially you had both been a little disappointed by the news but the busy hustle of your current litter of children made it easy to forget your upset.

however, a grin crept on Harwin’s face as his hands moved from your waist down your back to your ass, grabbing it suddenly making you gasp, “Not yet wife,” he grinned.

“Husband,” you scolded, hitting his chest knowing your fists were like taps to his frame, “You would make me late to our children for your own needs?” you said with fake annoyance, but he could see the grin teasing the corner of your lips.

“Not my needs dear wife,” he said, his hands moving slowly down to rest on the backs of your thighs, pushing your shift up so he could rub his thumbs over your bare skin, “My marital needs. after all I swore an oath to you. what kind of husband would I be if I did not fulfil it?”

“I think the five others who are currently tormenting their maids prove your more than capable sweet husband,” you said as you finally moved to sit up, but Harwin grabbed your hips, forcing you to stay sat on his lap.

he leaned forward, kissing you suddenly with one hand holding your jaw, the other your hip. the kiss was soft and slow as you felt his fingers squeeze the flesh of your hips which he often praised. despite being married with children he still took the breath out of you with just a kiss, “I suppose,” you said against his lips as you tried to catch your breath, “being a little late never hurt,”

“That’s the spirit,” he said, his lips brushing yours with every word as his hand found the back of your neck.

you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as he lightly ground his hips up, pressing his growing bulge into your clothed cunt. you knew by how tightly he was gripping your hip there would be bruises tomorrow but you didn’t care. after all there were two reasons, he was called breakbone.

still, you gasped when he suddenly flipped you onto your back. Harwin grinded his hips down slowly, teasing you with each press of his hips against yours. his hands began to roam your body, squeezing your waist and breasts over your shift. his fingers trailed softly along the edge of your neckline before suddenly ripping the soft fabric. you gasped as the fabric ripped, the sudden breeze making your nipples harden.

your soft moans were covered by Harwin’s lips as his fingers began to softly roll your pebbled nubs between his calloused hands. his hands may be rough with a sword but soft on you as he traced around the sensitive buds between squeezes. “You still need to go?” he asked, breaking the kiss for only a moment.

“Im not going anywhere,” you said before pulling him back in for a deep kiss, your hands tangled in his hair.

you whined into the kiss when you felt his hands fall from your nipples, but an excitement began to build as you felt him pulling at his undergarment’s strings. your hands fell from his hair to run down his chest, feeling his muscles as you lightly trailed your fingers down his hot skin. however, it did not take him long to undo his trousers and push whatever fabric was in the way to the side.

you moaned as you felt his fingers trail along your cunt, pausing to tease the entrance of your hole, “Always so ready for me,” he praised as he moved to hold his cock. he lined his tip up with yours, the tip barely pushing in as you bit back a whine, “You want me to fuck you princess?” he asked, brushing the hair off your face with his spare hand, “Fuck you till you are filled with my child? till you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you moaned, gasping as he slowly began to push in, “Please Harwin please fuck me already,”

“I like when you beg,” he mused, his head falling to place soft kisses to your neck as he slowly pushed deeper inside, “you take me so well princess,” he said, his voice a strangled breath of groans and moans as he sunk his cock all the way in, “Such a good little wife,” he praised as he slowly began to move.

intuitively your legs wrapped around his waist, “please,” you whined, your eyes screwing up in anticipation as your fingers trailed over his shoulders, “don’t tease me this time. I need you. please,” your words seemed to move your husband as you gasped as he suddenly began thrusting in you.

Harwin wasted no time slipping a hand between your frames to find your clit, rubbing it precisely after many times of practise. you moaned as his lips worked harsh kisses along your neck to match his thrusts. he was called breakbone for a reason you thought as your nails dug into his shoulder blades.

as your nails trailed down his back you heard Harwin mumble praises and curse words under his breath, enjoying every scrape and scratch you were leaving. you could feel a familiar knot bubbling in your stomach as his cock stretched you out, pounding your defenceless bodily mercilessly into the bed. you wondered if the maids had grown used to the moans coming from your bed chambers of if the current sounds you were making still made them blush.

you did not worry for them however when Harwin grabbed your legs, pushing your thighs back so he could fuck you deeper into the plush mattress. your moans could probably be heard across the red keep by this point, “Please,” you moaned, each word interrupted by his thrusts, “Don’t stop, just like that,” you gasped as Harwin’s fingers dug into your hips tightly.

“I can’t stop myself,” he gasped, his thrusts growing messy, but it did not matter to you as you felt your knot tighten and your cunt begin to grip around his cock making Harwin moan.

“Please,” you began to whisper like a prayer till suddenly your body felt it would burst and you felt yourself come around his cock like a tiddle wave. your curses and moans did not make your husband stop however and you had to bite down on his shoulder as his thrusts grew heavier and you wondered if you would break.

“So good,” Harwin mumbled over and over as his thrusts grew sloppy and desperate before you suddenly felt that familiar feeling as his body tightened, his thrusts stopping, as you felt his seed spill deep inside of you.

you took the moment to catch your breath as your husband rode out his own pleasure before collapsing in the bed beside you. “That was- “he said between pants, “You are- I love you,” he finally settled upon as his gaze turned to you, wide eyed and exhausted.

“I love you too husband,” you giggled, as you rolled over to cuddle into his side, “But you owe me a new shift,” you joked as you traced hearts with your fingertips on his bare chest.

Harwin chuckled lightly as he wrapped his arm around you, “I’ll make sure to get you the finest of linens for it my dear wife,” he said as he pulled you tightly into his side, “See?” he teased, “Being late is worth it sometimes,” you rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed despite knowing he was right.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

#harwin strong #ser harwin x reader #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong smut #harwin strong imagine #harwin x reader #harwin x you #harwin imagine #harwin smut #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd imagine #house strong #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut

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sharararararara · 4 months

Text

Letter from Dark Thranduil

Summary: Thranduil had been looking for you ever since you have ran away, after 3 weeks he had finally found you and before he captures you he decided to send a letter.

Warning: Thranduil being obsessive.

Dear starlight,

How have you been? I missed you so much, I cannot stand by myself with you away from my side. Why did you run away from me? Do you not know how much I love you? Do you not know what I would do to have you by my side?

I am truly disappointed with what you had done, but I shall forgive you since you are my lover and my future Queen.

It took me a while to find where exactly you ran away to, but after I hired some spies and sent a thousand of my men out to look for you, I have finally found where you are.

Do not try to run away, I already know your whereabouts and even if you try to escape, you only get caught since all of my soldiers have already surrounded near the place you are living in.

You only have 1 day to surrender or else my men will bring you back by force.

Choose wisely Starlight, I don't want to make your punishment worse, since I already decided to chain you to our bedroom until you learned how to love me.

You won't have any contact with anyone except me, though the maids will help you get ready every day but they won't talk to you by my orders, same with the guards, they will only protect you and prevent you from escaping again, they will also not talk you and won't look at you, or else I will remove their tongue and pluck out their eyes.

You have left me but no choice to do this, if only you had not run away from me maybe I would have still let you go outside for a few minutes with guards by your side, making sure that no one would hurt you. But now I will not let you go outside not even for a split second, you have ruined my trust and you have lost your privileges.

Anyway, I shall see you tomorrow in my grasp, where you belong.

See you soon, My starlight...

-Your one and only lover, Thranduil.

#thranduil #Yandere lord of the rings #Yandere the hobbit #LOTR #THE HOBBIT #YANDERE THRANDUIL #DARK THRANDUIL #FRODO #BILBO #MERRY #PIPPIN #LEGOLAS

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 7 months

Text

Turning Points

Pairing: Éomer x reader (who doesn’t want to imagine themselves hanging out with Éomer??). Plus an Elfhelm cameo because I love that dude.

Summary: Éomer’s lifelong best friend reckons with how much and how quickly his life has changed as a result of the war and wonders what that means for the life she had hoped to have with him.

************

The clear, deep sound of horns rang out in the distance and alerted all of Edoras to the imminent arrival of the army, home for the first time since that urgent, panicked ride to Helm’s Deep more than two months ago. Although word of their subsequent deeds and victories in Gondor had already reached the city, many details were yet unknown, and the mood of those who gathered in the streets was celebratory but tinged with anxiety as hopeful eyes prepared to scan the returning éoreds for a first glimpse of deeply missed loved ones.

The terrace in front of Meduseld quickly filled with people, and you slipped easily into the crowd as the first few companies of horsemen began to climb the hill. The riders smiled broadly at the cheers and flowers that rained down on them, though some still bore clear evidence of painful wounds and fractures. Others led behind them riderless horses, the mounts of those soldiers who would never return. You whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude, knowing from the messengers who had gone back and forth from Minas Tirith that both of those most precious to you were safely in the host.

No sooner had you finished your prayer than a cry went up from the crowd–“Hail, Elfhelm, Marshal of Edoras!”—and your father came into view. As gregarious as he was popular, he played shamelessly to the crowd, doffing his stallion-crested helmet and waving a shield that had clearly been confiscated from some defeated Haradrim commander. When his eyes finally landed on you, he gave a joyful whoop and sprang from the saddle. Throwing the helmet and shield aside, he ran to you with the speed of a much younger man, and the strength of his embrace forced the breath from your lungs. He spun you around several times as you kissed his sunburned cheeks, and when he placed you on your feet again he grasped your shoulders and gazed for a long moment at your face.

“Many nights have I dreamed of just this view,” he said. “There is no finer one in all of Middle Earth.”

You gave his hands a squeeze. “I have not known a moment’s peace since you left. Now that you are back, I may never let you leave again.”

“I am at your command, my lady,” he said with a smile and an exaggerated bow. “But I do not flatter myself so much as to think that I am the only one you have been missing. The royal household will be arriving soon, and I am certain you are as eager to see the new king as he must be to see you.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at the mention of Éomer, but this was not the time or the place to open the gate that held back those feelings. “For my part, I shall certainly be glad to see him home and safe. But a man such as Éomer has many friends, and no doubt he desires to see them all.”

He burst into laughter. “Do you speak such nonsense on purpose, or have I really raised you to be so naive? I know that you do not admit it to others, and perhaps not even between yourselves, but I have watched the two of you for many years now and I know love when I see it. Let us not pretend you are just one friend among many, a single star in a crowded sky. You are his sun, just as he is yours. I may be old, but I am certainly not blind.”

Your face flushed in pain and embarrassment. If your father had perceived all of this, likely others had, too. It was true that you loved Éomer, and you had always believed he loved you back. You felt his devotion in the way he trusted you and watched out for you, in the look on his face when you walked into a room. But neither of you had ever stated it outright. Perhaps you had been wrong all along, reading a great deal too much into a cherished friendship. Or perhaps what he felt was no longer relevant given his new responsibilities and duties. Either way, when Éomer married another in a few months' time, your crushed hopes would be on display for the whole city to see and discuss.

“Things have changed, father. You know that. The Éomer that I have known all my life was Éomund’s son. He was not heir to the throne of Rohan and certainly not its king. His life is very different now from the one we might have expected just months ago when Théodred was still alive.”

He sighed. “Much has happened, I concede. He has gone from nephew to heir to king. He nearly lost his sister. He comes home with much to reflect on. But his heart itself has not changed.”

“Has it not?” Despite your best efforts, your voice broke and tears began to slide down your cheeks. “Then what of the news that has already made its way back here in advance of your return? Amongst word of your victories and the death of poor Théoden, it also said that Éomer is to marry the princess of Dol Amroth. They say she is considered a proper match for a king of the Mark, and that none less than the new king of Gondor himself proposed it. If I have heard this, surely you have, too.”

Your father reached up to gently brush a tear aside. “Anyone who would claim that you–the finest woman in all of Rohan–are not a proper match for our own king does not have sense enough to offer an opinion on the subject. I have heard this talk of Dol Amroth, it is true, but I have not heard any of it from Éomer’s own lips. And I will not believe it unless I do. His choice was made long ago. You will see.” He put a finger under your chin and tipped your face up to him. “Now, I would stay here and debate this with you all day if your mother were not surely waiting for me at home. And if she thinks I have not hurried there with sufficient speed, she will soon accomplish what all the swordsmen of Harad could not!”

You smiled in spite of yourself and kissed him one last time before he remounted his horse. He gave you a wink as he rode on, and you dried your eyes before turning back to the procession of riders making their way forward.

Before long, the king’s banner appeared at the bottom of the hill. Even at that distance, it was easy to identify Éomer among the many men of his household–you would always recognize his frame and the way he carried himself even if he were not wearing his distinctive horse-tailed helmet and sitting astride Firefoot, who had now been arrayed with a saddle and bridle that sparkled with the gold of a monarch.

As he came into closer view, you could begin to discern the new trappings of royalty–the beautiful green cloak trimmed with shining gold embroidery, the neatly braided hair, the fur-lined boots. But underneath these superficial changes, he still looked like your Éomer. The same man who shared with you a lifetime of confidences and mischief and private jokes. The one who cried in your arms when he missed his parents. Who doted on you whenever you were sick and angrily confronted anyone he thought had hurt your feelings. Who stole your breath every time he turned his hazel eyes and dimpled smile in your direction.

His company dismounted near the bottom of the terrace, and he moved toward the stairs, trailed by attendants, guards and throngs of well-wishers eager to greet their new king. The clamor presented a perfect opportunity to slip away now that you had confirmed with your own eyes that he was safe and unharmed. It was the coward’s way out, but even one more day before you had to directly confront your new reality would be a gift. Just as you began to turn away, however, the sound of his voice carried over the tumult, calling your name.

You froze in place as he approached, feeling immediately uncertain of everything–how to stand, where to look, what to do. A lifetime of affectionate greetings and easy companionship had not prepared you to meet under these circumstances, not as intimate friends but as ruler and subject. Beloved and left behind. Hearing nothing but the sound of your own blood pulsing in your veins, you bowed and looked down.

“Hail, Éomer King.” When you finally raised your eyes, you could see uncertainty written on his face as well. He took another step toward you but stopped, and tentatively reached out a hand before dropping it back to his side. He looked in both directions, where dozens of attentive faces observed his every move.

“I am glad to see you,” he said quietly. His eyes sought yours, and when you allowed them to meet he gave you a soft smile. “I have missed you.”

“I…I am much relieved to see you home. These have been long and anxious months.”

Before either of you could speak again, an armored man at Éomer’s side cleared his throat and nodded in the direction of Meduseld. “You are expected in the hall, my lord. There is much business awaiting your attention, including messages due both to Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth.”

The mention of Dol Amroth sent an icy stab of pain into your chest, and you shrank back several steps, seeking a swift retreat. “Go ahead, my lord,” you managed to say. “A king’s duties must come first.”

His thick brows drew together and he frowned slightly, but eventually he nodded his assent. Your feet carried you away and down a maze of small streets and back alleys, picking up speed as you got further from the crowd, until at last you reached the edge of the city and disappeared into the surrounding fields and paddocks. You cast yourself down in the tall, sweet-smelling grass, shedding tears until you had none left and then staring up dolefully at the flat, blank sky. No matter how you considered and reconsidered your position, only two excruciating choices seemed to lay before you–either to find a new way to love Éomer, shorn of all romantic possibility and content to exist on the terms available to you, or to lose him entirely from your life. The first option felt beyond your strength, but the second was utterly unthinkable.

Uncounted hours passed until it began to darken and torches and candles sparked to life in the distance. Miserable and cold but not yet ready to join the revelry of your family, you wandered back to the city and found yourself headed to the old tack room at the marshal’s stables. Ever since childhood, the abandoned little storage space had served as a private spot to meet your friends, talk or simply to think, and during the war you had spent many hours there alone ruthlessly poring over your fears and concerns.

Throwing open the door and expecting to find it empty as always, you instead walked straight into Éomer, practically bouncing off his chest as he stood just past the threshold. Gone were the outward adornments of royalty, and he looked as you were accustomed to seeing him—simple clothing, well-used boots, hair in loose waves on his shoulders. “Éomer! I mean….I’m sorry. Excuse me, my lord.”

He grimaced a little. “Please, that is not necessary here. Not when it is us. I would like one piece of my old life that is familiar, someone who will still treat me not as king but as myself. I thought you might be here and hoped we could talk as we always have.”

He sat on an old saddle trunk and looked up at you expectantly. Here now was the first opportunity to test your strength—to be there for him simply as a friend and see if you could endure it—and so you nodded and sat next to him.

He was quiet at first, looking around the room and seeming lost in thought. The issue of his pending marriage felt to you like a heavy, palpable presence in the room, but you did not have the heart to raise the subject yet. Instead, you clasped your arms around yourself and waited for him to speak, to give some indication of what he was thinking.

“Do you remember my fifteenth birthday?” he asked suddenly.

“Your…fifteenth birthday? Yes, I think so.” Fragments of distant memories quickly reassembled in your mind. “That was the night you dragged a stolen cask of ale in here, wasn’t it? And then you drank more than half of it all on your own.”

“Which meant you had to spend the rest of the night holding back my hair while I experienced the consequences.”

You smiled. “Yes. Though I experienced some of your consequences, too, if I recall. Those shoes were never the same again.”

He snorted a laugh, and for just a moment things felt almost normal again. Easy and light, as they had been when you were just those two coltish teenagers, having fun and testing the limits of your adolescent independence. But as the laughter faded, the awkwardness returned and his face turned serious.

“I am sorry about this morning.” He shook his head slowly. “That was not how I imagined our reunion, but everything has become so difficult and formal now. I have few moments to myself or chances to do as I once would.”

You could hear in his voice the strain of this adjustment to always being the focus of attention, to being one who is honored and deferred to instead of one who is engaged with. No wonder he was thinking of earlier, simpler days. You longed to comfort him, to take his hand or sit with your head against his shoulder. “Do not apologize,” you said instead. “I understand that you have new demands on you. I regret only that I was not able to tell you how sorry I am about your uncle. I will miss his kind heart.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I take comfort in knowing that he would be proud of what his death achieved.”

Another small silence ensued before he looked up and smiled at you. “But now I must apologize again,” he said, “for I have not yet asked after you. Please, tell me how you have been since we last saw each other.”

You gave a dismissive wave of your hand. “There is not much to tell, at least nothing to stand alongside the great tales we have already heard of your heroic deeds.”

“I do not ask for great tales,” he insisted. “I want only to hear about you and what I have missed, great or small.”

“Well, what you missed were endless hours of inventories and supplies and checklists and stockpiles. Many of the men who typically see to those basic concerns were injured or killed at Helm’s Deep, or they were called away to your muster. So I filled my days with work that they would have done…tracking stores of food and medicine and equipment, ensuring they were sent where they were most needed, planning for replenishments when stocks ran low. It was nothing I have ever done before, obviously, but I am careful with numbers and can keep good records, which is most of what was required.”

He chuckled. “Old Elfhelm has always been so proud that his daughter is one of the few in Rohan to read and write. I heard him bragging as much to one of Lord Elrond’s sons back in Gondor.”

You smiled and shrugged. “That certainly sounds like him. He has never lacked paternal enthusiasm. Or the confidence to share his enthusiasm with literally anyone.”

“That is true, but he is right to be proud. You should be proud as well. Hunger and disease often follow in war’s footsteps, even for the victors, and that has not been allowed to happen here despite the destruction of so many villages and farms and the absence of so many of the normal laborers. That is a service any king would value.”

Your cheeks bloomed a bright red, and he smiled at your discomfort with praise. In truth, though, you were quite proud of what you had accomplished, and it was only hearing the praise from his lips that sent waves of warm color to your face. “Thank you,” you mumbled at last.

He seemed on the verge of speaking again, but instead he leaned back against the wall and contemplated the floor for several long moments. His knee jogged quickly up and down, a nervous tic he’d had ever since boyhood. Before you could ask what was troubling him, however, he looked up with an unsettling intensity.

“May I ask you something? And you will respond to me honestly, no matter what?”

His earnest tone sparked a flare of anxiety in your chest. Was this the moment when he intended to tell you of his engagement? When you would have to somehow react to this news with the graciousness and dignity you knew were required? “I will certainly try.”

He took a deep breath and winced slightly in anticipation of speaking. “I have spent many hours now reflecting on things that Éowyn related to me before I left Gondor. How she did not feel that she was able to live the life she wanted when she was here. That she could not be who she was meant to be simply because she was born a woman. I am ashamed that I was blind to the causes of her unhappiness and that she did not feel that she could confide her true feelings to me earlier. But having failed her then, I worry now that I may have failed others in my life as well. Others who are equally important to me.”

He suddenly turned and grasped your forearms, repositioning you both so that you now sat face to face rather than side by side.

“If you have ever felt that same unhappiness or believed that I was not willing or able to understand your feelings, will you now forgive me? I would not want anyone else to suffer as Éowyn did, and least of all you.”

Your heart broke a little at his words. It broke for Éomer, who would sooner give his life than intentionally hurt someone he cared for, and it broke for Éowyn, whose full feelings had never before been revealed to you. But, hearing now how she had felt, something in her words resonated with a deep part of you, reverberating off a chord you had not always been consciously aware of. You thought carefully for several moments before responding.

“If you ask me whether I ever resented you or the life that I led, the answer is no. I have always trusted in you above all others, and my life never felt anything but normal to me. But I, too, have reflected on these last months, and perhaps I can now better understand Éowyn’s mind.”

He nodded, encouraging you to continue.

“Amid the tragedy of these days, I found some purpose and meaning in the work I did. It was gratifying to feel truly useful for the first time. I did not know it before, as you do not know to miss something you never had, but once that instinct is awakened it is difficult to ignore. It seems it was awakened in Éowyn long ago. But, for myself, I cannot deny that I will now be deeply saddened to lose my sense of purpose once the men are all returned to their old duties and the help of a woman is no longer accepted.”

“Maybe that is not what has to happen,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I would not come to a new understanding of the world, to learn a necessary lesson at a steep cost, only to ignore that lesson and rule my kingdom as though I do not know any better. This will not be a land that I want to rule if half the people must always limit their talents and hopes to fit within the meager bounds afforded to them by the other half.”

His words hung in the air as you struggled to make sense of what you had heard. A chance to share in the great works and deeds of the kingdom, just as the elven women had always done in their own lands? To learn and achieve and stretch yourself in ways that had never before been possible, and not just when dictated by the necessity of war but as a part of everyday life? You had scarcely the courage to even dream of such a thing, but now it was being offered to you. And you knew you wanted it. “I will be the first to stand behind you in any such effort,” you say at last. “But what you suggest is a radical departure from the way that things have been for all the years of our history, indeed from the way that they have always been in all the lands of men. There may be strong opposition to change.”

“I do not fear a difficult task if I know it to be necessary. I will see it done.” He paused and gently picked up your hand to hold it between both of his. “Though I would be aided by the help of a capable queen. One who will rule with me, not as a token or a symbol, but as a true partner.”

His touch sent a jolt of lightning through your arm, and you looked down at your hand to watch his thumb run lightly back and forth over your wrist. It left a trail of fire on your skin. “I…Well, I do not think I understand. Surely you mean Prince Imrahil’s daughter?”

“Imrahil’s daughter?” He looked startled. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because news of a royal engagement travels quickly, perhaps faster than you realize. Half of Edoras has already heard about you and the princess of Dol Amroth.”

“Then half of Edoras has heard wrong.”

A small gasp escaped your lips before you could act to hold it back. You looked up into his eyes and drew a shallow breath. “Then…then you have changed your mind?”

“I have not, but only because it never needed changing. I am certain that any daughter of Imrahil is a good and worthy woman, but I declined that match when it was suggested. Any report to the contrary is the result of confusion or rumor. It is true that I am ready for marriage, but I do not wish to bind myself forever to someone I barely know. To someone whose heart and mind I do not yet fully understand. Not when my own heart has long been reserved for one who I already know to be the best of women.” He drew your hand up and pressed it tightly to his chest, where you could feel the steady, strong beat of that heart against your fingertips. “If she will have me.”

All the world seemed suddenly still, as though you were balanced precariously on the crest of a hill, waiting for the last tip forward that would send you rushing headlong down into a new and joyous life. You opened your mouth to respond but found that no words would come. Instead, you raised a hand to his face, lightly tracing your fingers along his jaw before sinking them into his dark golden hair and pulling him toward you for a kiss that had been decades in the making.

It was worth the wait.

#lotr #lord of the rings #fan fiction #lotr fanfic #eomer #eomer x reader #hail eomer king #and Elfhelm too #i do apologize to the lothiriel fans #i’ve just always wanted to see him pick someone from the home team!

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loverhymeswith · 8 months

Text

Let's Be Alone Together || Part Three

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: After being rejected by Tommy, your attempt at avoiding him fails miserably

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death, smoking, angst, Tommy being Tommy

A/N: When I originally planned this chapter, it was going to be much longer, but I ran out of time before going on vacation and I didn’t want to leave you all hanging. Thank you so much for all the love and support for this story. There are at least 2 more chapters on the way. Shout out to @a-reader-and-a-writer for the beta-read and invaluable suggestions as always 💖

Masterlist

The bookmakers on Watery Lane is eerily quiet. Silent in fact, which is a rare occasion indeed. The building is usually a hive of activity, the air full of cigarette smoke and testosterone, of quick tempers and over-inflated egos.

But today, it’s just you.

Today, the Shelbys are at the races.

Despite invitations from both Polly and Arthur, you had been firm in your decision to stay behind after taking the morning’s bets. As far as the family is concerned, you have a migraine. However, the truth is that after Tommy’s behaviour the other night, you have been mindful to stay out of his way.

Spending the afternoon taking stock in the betting shop seemed like a far safer option than being in the vicinity of Tommy Shelby and his expensive suit on race day. The longer you go without seeing him, the easier it is to convince yourself that his rejection - his dismissal - doesn’t hurt. That you’re not ashamed and embarrassed for suggesting that you might have wanted him to come home with you. Even if at the time it had been true.

The longer you go without seeing Tommy Shelby, the easier it is to convince yourself that you don’t want him.

Hearing the telltale sound of the front door unlocking, you look up from your desk, a jolt of panic nudging you out of boredom. With the exception of Finn and the handful of loyal foot soldiers tasked with keeping watch over the Shelby empire, everyone else is at Cheltenham.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear”, you mutter under your breath when a pair of piercing blue eyes meet yours across the room.

Missing either the irritation in your voice or the comment altogether, Tommy strides into the room, a cigarette resting between his plump lips as he surveys his surroundings. “Any trouble this morning?” he asks around the cigarette.

You shake your head. As far as race days go, today has been particularly quiet. By now, the local gambling men know better than to cause trouble on Shelby soil.

Tommy hums under his breath, starting to remove his dark woollen coat and jacket. You ignore the lump forming in your throat as you realise this isn’t a flying visit. Something or someone has brought him back to Small Heath.

It proves a struggle to return your attention to the ledger before you. Your eyes are unwillingly drawn away from the small handwritten numbers, focusing instead on Tommy as he sinks into the chair opposite. An expensive suit indeed, judging by how perfectly the clothes are cut to his powerful body.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Tommy observes, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray between you. When you don’t reply, he adds, “And now you’re ignoring me, eh?”

Rising to the bait, you level him with your best attempt at a Shelby glare. “What do you want, Tommy? Haven’t you got someplace better to be? I thought your horse was racing today.”

As usual, Tommy doesn’t respond immediately. A heavy silence stretches out as he watches you intently, his lips ever so slightly parted as he carefully considers his next words.

Slowly, he blinks. “We need to have a talk.”

“Sounds serious,” you scoff. But the humour is a front. In reality, your heart is pounding, your fingers clenching the folds of your skirt beneath the desk as you wait for him to continue.

After another beat of silence, Tommy reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a roll of notes. You follow his hands, calloused and scar-flecked, as he stretches across the table, placing the money in front of you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow, discomfort rapidly spreading through your stomach as you try to make sense of the gesture. “You know I’m not one of your whores. The other night…”

You trail off when a burst of white-hot anger flashes through Tommy’s blue eyes. Then it’s gone just as quickly and he clears his throat. “That’s why I want you to take the money.” When it becomes obvious he’s not making any sense, he elaborates. “You don’t belong here.”

Your heart sinks as his words register, recognising this for the familiar Tommy Shelby ploy that it is: throw money at a problem until it goes away.

“You’re trying to get rid of me.”

Tommy blinks again, his mouth a thin line neither confirming nor denying the accusation. It’s a struggle, but you manage to temper down the hurt, matching his stoic expression. “Why?”

Tommy lights another cigarette before replying. It gives you time to run through the myriad of reasons why he wouldn’t want you around. Eventually, you settle on the most obvious explanation: the other night, you overstepped the mark. He simply doesn’t want you.

A cloud of smoke escapes his parted lips as he leans forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. “Birmingham isn’t safe.”

“Oh come on, you think I don’t know that?” You shake your head, fighting the sting of angry tears. “It’s been two years since you brought me here. For my safety, if I recall. A promise to a dying man… Do you intend to break that promise now?”

A muscle in Tommy’s jaw ticks, the only indication your words have any effect on him. “Times are changing. We have more enemies now. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You’ve always had enemies, Tommy. So why now? Who are you really trying to protect me from?”

Yourself?

The unspoken answer hangs in the air between you, the heaviness an indication of its truth. Tommy blinks rapidly, his mouth closing firmly as he inclines his head. You’ve hit a nerve. “I hear Sheffield is nice.”

“Sheffield?” You laugh bitterly. “You’re not even going to give me a choice, are you? Let me guess, you have a family lined up for me to go and stay with. People - friends - who will keep an eye on me and report back when the guilt becomes too much for you to bear. You’ve probably arranged a husband for me while you’re at it.”

“You’ve got me all figured out, eh?” He leans back in his chair and takes a long drag of the cigarette.

The haze of white smoke obscures him from view just long enough for you to compose yourself. “You really are a piece of work, Thomas. Did it ever cross your mind to consider what I might want?”

As his tongue darts out, wetting his lips, you force yourself to maintain eye contact. Looking away would be a sign of weakness and you can’t afford to let your guard down around him. Not again.

“And what is it that you want?” he asks, too patiently.

At the end of your tether, you push back your chair and rise to your feet, fists clenched. “You want to know what I want?”

Tommy nods slowly, his sharp gaze following you as you round the table and come to stand before him.

“I want to know what’s really going on inside your head. I want to know what changed since we left the restaurant the other night. I want to know why you-”

“You deserve someone better.”

His abrupt admission startles you into silence and you stagger backwards, desperately trying to make sense of his words. You heard them the other night when he was referring to Lewis Powell, but now…

You wanted the truth but you hadn’t really expected him to offer it so willingly. And now that you have it, you’re not sure what to do with it.

Tommy stubs out his cigarette and rises smoothly. He’s standing before you, mere inches separating the two of you as his eyes rapidly dart across your face. Whatever semblance of control he had earlier is quickly slipping away. “You talk of being alone. Well, I feel the same way. And sometimes, I think that maybe we could be alone together.”

You let out a quiet breath, your head continuing to spin with every new revelation. “So what’s the problem?”

“You know what the problem is.” Tommy's eyes shutter, as if the thought alone causes him pain. “I made a promise to your husband.”

“Who is dead,” you snap, despising the harsh words even as they rush from your mouth. “He left me. And now you’re going to do the same thing. Don’t think for one minute that you’re being an honorable man by sending me away, Thomas Shelby. You’re just a coward. You’re a -”

Before you can finish, Tommy reaches out, cupping your jaw with his large, warm hands. Firm but gentle, he forces you to look into his eyes, the action so intimate, so unlike the Tommy you have come to know.

“You’re right.” He smooths his thumbs over the tears now freely running down your cheeks. “You're right. But only when it comes to you.”

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal @butterfly-lover @sunshineyourethebesttime @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @breezy2and2freezy

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic

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it-was-too-cold-always · 7 months

Text

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 9

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky spend their first night together as a married couple.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language, SMUT 18+ only, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, size kink, let me know if I'm missing anything

As the car approached the house, butterflies grew in your stomach. Would tonight be any different? Maybe now that you’re married, he’d actually sleep in the same bed as you. But maybe that was wishful thinking.

Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air. Way out here, there was hardly any light pollution, so all the stars shined brightly in the sky. You tilted your head up to admire the view – it really was gorgeous. You were a little buzzed from the drinks at the bar, so you didn’t notice Bucky watching you. He was leaning up against the car, admiring the look on your face as you marveled at the stars. You hummed; it’s been a really good day, something you haven’t been able to say since you joined this study.

A light breeze came and sent a shiver through your body. Suddenly feeling chilly, you decided it was time to go inside. “Shall we?” you asked Bucky. He hummed in response, and you started walking towards the house. The soft ground and high heels made a bad combination with the little bit of alcohol you consumed earlier in the night. “Hold on,” you said, and he turned to you. Putting one hand on his arm to steady yourself, you reached down and took off your shoes. “So much better,” you sighed. Your bare feet padded on the walkway and Bucky chuckled.

Once inside, you went upstairs to wash the dirt off your feet. While you were in the bathroom, Bucky stood in your room, contemplating what to do. Something felt off about sleeping on the floor tonight. Maybe he was just being an old-fashioned romantic, but he felt like tonight should be different. Maybe he would sleep in the bed, just for tonight, he told himself. Slipping off his shoes, he decided that would be his plan. As he was taking off his belt, you walked into the room. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you watched him whip the belt out of the loops. Goddamn, you thought, this just isn’t fair.

Clearing your throat, you approached him slowly. You wanted help getting out of this dress. Did you need his help? No. But you wanted an excuse to feel his hands on you, and your liquid courage was going to run out soon.

“Would you mind?” you asked, turning around and motioning to the zipper on your back. Bucky held his breath – was he really about to help you undress? Hesitantly, he grabbed the zipper and pulled down slowly, fingertips grazing the bare skin of your back. Once the dress was fully unzipped, you both paused. Without thinking, Bucky traced his thumb down your spine. You sucked in a deep breath and turned around. Bucky took a small step forward, eliminating the space between you.

His face was incredibly close to yours – you took this moment to really look at him. His light eyes were mesmerizing, with little creases in the corners. You never noticed how weathered his face was – he’s been through so much, how could it not be. Your eyes moved down to his soft, pink lips. He could feel your gaze on them and instinctively licked them, which only added to the heat building in your core.

Bucky was torn about what to do next. He didn’t want to cross any lines and make you uncomfortable. What if he was reading this wrong? Testing the waters, he put one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist, watching your face carefully for any sign that he should back away.

Screw it, you thought, placing your hands on his chest, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. It was slow and sensual, building up to something more desperate. Bucky broke the kiss and touched his forehead to yours as you both caught your breath. You weren’t done though, and you were feeling unusually brave. You ran your hand through his hair kissed him once again. This kiss was more heated, more intense. All that sexual tension of the last couple weeks, it finally came to a head. He gripped your waist tighter and pulled you closer, gently sliding his tongue in your mouth. You moaned and tipped your head back, deepening the kiss.

With no warning, Bucky reached down and grabbed the back of your thighs, picking you up and sitting on the bed so that you were straddling him. You gripped your hands on his strong shoulders as he slipped his tongue in once more, his hands firmly on your hips. He removed his tongue from your mouth and began kissing down your jawline, sucking on your neck. You moaned, weaving your fingers in his hair to keep him there. You could feel his growing erection against your core. You grabbed the hem of your dress and slid it up over your head. Bucky let out a low growl, his eyes drinking in the sight of you: straddling him, wearing nothing but a pink lacy bra and matching panties. Normally you’d feel self-conscious about your body, but the way Bucky was looking at you made you feel like the sexiest woman alive.

His hands were all over your body, trying to feel as much of your soft skin as possible. He ran his hands up your back and unhooked your bra. You let the straps slowly slide down your arms, revealing your supple breasts. Moaning, he grabbed one in his hand and squeezed. His metal hand flew to your hair, gripping tightly to pull you into another passionate kiss. Your fingers made their way to the buttons on his shirt. Your hands were shaking from anticipation, so you worked slowly to get his shirt off. Before you took the shirt completely off, you broke the kiss and leaned back, wordlessly asking for permission. He nodded and took the shirt off himself, flinging it into the corner of the room.

You took a moment to admire his physique. You stared at him with wonder. He was so muscular it was sinful. Your eyes moved to his scarred skin where the metal arm met his shoulder. You ran a finger along the seam, feeling the marred flesh on your skin. Bucky got nervous – would you be too disgusted by his scars to continue?

You tipped his chin up and placed a slow, intimate kiss on his lips. You ran your hands all over his chest, admiring the definition of his abs. Moving towards the waistband of his pants, you tried to undo the button. You were fumbling too much, and it was starting to frustrate you.

“Take these off,” you pleaded. You desperately wanted him, all of him. He flipped you on your back and climbed off the mattress. He took off his pants and moved to climb on top of you.

“All of it,” you said. He paused, lust growing in his eyes. He was surprised by your enthusiasm – he didn’t think anything would happen tonight. He slowly removed his boxers, springing loose his massive cock. Your mouth hung open. He was huge.

He crawled on top of you slowly, pulling you into an unforgiving kiss. Bucky poured his heart into this kiss – he wanted you to feel as special as you made him feel. You ran your fingers down his back, hands resting on his hips. You pulled his pelvis into you so his erection was pressed against your dripping heat. Bucky could feel how wet you were through your panties, and it was driving him mad.

With an almost primal growl, Bucky ripped off your underwear, sitting on his heels to soak in the sight of you. There you were, laying naked on the bed, so eager to touch him, kiss him, please him. My wife, he thought. Mine. The thought triggered something inside him – something so possessive, he needed to claim you as his.

Wasting no time, his tongue dove straight into your folds, sucking your clit like it was his lifeline. The sudden stimulation had you screaming, one hand entangled in his hair, the other over your mouth to stifle all the noise you were making. Slipping two fingers inside, Bucky worked you over until you were absolutely falling apart. It didn’t take long for an orgasm to rip through your body and send your senses over the edge. It was pure bliss, like nothing you’ve felt before. Bucky kept his metal hand on your hip, holding you down as he helped you ride through your high.

Before you could catch your breath, Bucky’s mouth was on yours. You could taste yourself on his lips. You slipped your hand between your bodies, grabbing his throbbing cock and stroking slowly. You were eager to feel him. A moan rumbled deep in his chest. It only fueled your desperation more. You needed him, and you needed him now.

“Doll, are you sure about this?” he whispered, looking deep into your eyes. His hesitation made you worry – was this a bad idea? Sensing your mood change, he added, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me,” you whispered back. “I want you.”

That was all it took for Bucky. He aligned his cock with your entrance after rubbing the tip along your folds. Slowly, he slid inside of you. His size was overwhelming. You understood now why he was moving so slowly – he was giving you time to adjust. Ever the gentleman. Once he bottomed out, he gave you a moment, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He stayed still too long for your liking. You whined, grinding your hips against his.

“Be patient, doll,” he warned. You groaned in response. You were never a very patient person.

He slowly dragged his cock until it was almost completely out, then slowly slid it back in. His pace was steady and gentle – he didn’t want to get too aggressive, at least not for your first time together. He wanted to make love to you, not fuck you.

With each thrust, he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your hands were all over each other, desperate and intense. He held onto you like his life depended on it, as if you could disappear at any moment. You wanted to remember every moment of tonight – the way he felt deep inside you, the feeling of his hands all over your body, the look in his eyes. When he started rubbing your clit with his thumb, you couldn’t hold out any longer. You let go and came so hard you were seeing stars.

Bucky’s thrusts became sporadic and you felt him pulse inside you. He moaned as he came inside you. It was magnificent to see this man come undone in front of you. Every muscle in his body was flexing, sweat glistening in the poorly lit room. Sliding out slowly, Bucky got up off the bed and walked out of the room.

“Please stay,” you whispered, completely breathless.

“Remember what I said about patience?” he asked rhetorically.

He returned with a damp cloth. Gently, he cleaned you up, placing kisses on your inner thighs as he worked. Tossing the rag aside, he flipped off the lights and pulled back the sheets. Under the covers, he held you tight against his chest, rubbing circles in your back. You didn’t last long after that – the intense orgasms and stress about the wedding completely wore you out. You quickly drifted off to sleep. The last thought you had was that you might be falling for your husband.

Chapter 10

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom @learisa @pono-pura-vida @smile1318 @stinkerbelle007 @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @wonderland2425 @lowkeysebby @cookiie-c @mrsevans90 @touchit-pcy @vicmc624 @mrsbarnes32557038 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @wonderland2425 @tsofo26 @missing-loki @aesthetic0cherryblossom

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky angst #bucky smut

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moremousewrites · 8 days

Text

Just For You

Request Link

Pairing: Astarion/Tav (GN)

Summary: At the party, your companions get around to asking what you've been doing the last few months. They're shocked to discover you're spending your time with Astarion. They're even more shocked to learn that you'd had a relationship with Astarion the entire time

Tags: just pure fluff and epilogue spoilers

A/N: thank you for requesting! I tried to make it as close to your request while staying in character so i hope you like it 🖤

The night air cooled your skin at your old camp. You never thought you'd see it again; the grounds you'd spend in quiet comfort during those weeks of peril. And to see your friends again after all this time was an even greater privilege. Though, catching up with your companions was proving to be a bit overwhelming for you. You listened intently as they regaled you with anecdotes of their new lives, adventures, and homes. It was a lot to take in, seeing how much they'd changed in the months you'd been away, but pleasant to know they were all right.

At some point in the night, Wyll finally turned the attention onto you. You'd managed to dodge the questioning for the night, asking your companions about their lives. But now it was your turn.

“Enough about me, Tav. What have you been up to these last few months?” He asked, eager to hear from you. You hadn't kept in touch with anyone from the party so it was his first time hearing about your new life. Well you had kept in touch with one person.

“Well, Astarion and I have-” you started.

Wyll cut you off, confused. “Wait, you and Astarion? Did some spark ignite between you after our adventure?” Wyll teased, shocked at what he was hearing.

You looked over at Astarion who was eyeing you, considerably from the other side of the camp. “No, actually. We were… how shall I put this. Involved. Prior to the Netherbrain” you explained, awkwardly, taking a sip from your goblet to hide your face.

Wyll's jaw dropped. “You were together the whole time?!” He practically screamed. All attention was on you now.

You tried to shush him, giggling slightly at his reaction. “Oh no, Tav. You've got some explaining to do. How could you not tell us you and Astarion were a thing?” He asked in disbelief.

“What the fuck?!” Karlach chimed in, running over to you. “Soldier, are you shitting me?” She asked, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. Your drink splashed onto your hand and you grabbed her arm to steady yourself.

Again, you shook your head. Where was that vampire of yours? “Well… technically it wasn't the whole time” Ah, there he was. You heard his voice approach behind you and felt his hand on your lower back. Karlach released you to watch the spectacle before her. “Most of our time was obviously devoted to killing cultists and the occasional mind flayer but yes in the duration of our adventure we formed a beautiful bond” Astarion explained in an aloof way.

You could see your companions weren't satisfied with his answer at all but it didn't matter. The quiet nights you shared together, the stolen glances and tearful confessions. Those were only for the two of you. It was your love, and it was finally a peaceful one. You were happy to share your adventure with your friends, but some things were just for you.

As the night was ending and you said your last goodbyes, you made your way to Astarion. He had a soft look in his eyes, one he saved for you and you alone. “Did you have a nice time, my love” he asked, sincerely.

You nodded. “Yes I did. I missed them” you sighed, taking his hand in yours.

Astarion gave your hand a gentle squeeze to reassure you. “We'll see them again. Until then, let's go home” he said. You walked away from the camp you once called home, hand in hand.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 requests

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callofdudes · 10 months

Note

First we had platonic cuddles with Simon

Now we need platonic cuddles with price !!

We need the dad cuddles !!!

Please

It shall be done @itsscromp 😌 hope it's to your liking.

Also! Callsign poll going up tomorrow at 10AM MT.

Platonic cuddles with Captain Price

Price is hesitant to cuddles in the way he's very busy and it's his job to protect you all. If something happens he takes the blow so he's stressed out a lot.

Not only does he not feel like he can take a proper break, but cuddles or affection in general would mean being vulnerable and over the years it's something he's started to lose grasp on.

It wouldn't feel appropriate, just as much as going up to Simon or you sergeants and asking for touch. Price gives touch, he leads, he shows affection. He gives the occasional gratitude and pat on the back, making sure his soldiers are alive and breathing.

Sometimes those small moments of affection are grounding for him. Touching Simon on the shoulder after a mission and seeing their eyes meet relaxes his mind that Simon is very much still alive. Same goes for the rest of you.

So long story short he can give affection but does not ever ask for it in return. Ever. He may want it, but he feels it's not his place among many other things.

Then you came along. And unlike others, you saw. You heard and you saw. You'd hear the exhaustion dwindling on the edge of his voice, his head full and his hands busy with paperwork and whatever else needed to be handed in before he got his ass kicked.

You saw how his shoulders would bow slightly when the invisible weight on his shoulders pushed down a little too much.

Of course you initiate contact. And he forgot just how much he misses it. Wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him until his worries too are drowned out...

You knocked on the door to his office, coming in to see him finishing up a briefing on one of your last missions. You'd not been feeling good all day so Price had given you the day to rest.

"Y/n, what are you doing up??"

You sniffled, tired puffy eyes looking down when you came over. "I can't sleep..." You whisper.

"Did you get more medication from Ghost?"

You nod, rubbing your sore eyes again. Price sighed and stopped his paperwork, standing and attempting to help you. "How about we get you to bed and I'll make you some tea. Clear up those sinuses a bit."

But before he can move you come forward, wrapping your arms weakly around him and lean into his body. You listen to the sounds of his heart over the panting breaths of your fever.

Price hums, rubbing your back and runs his hand down the back of your head. "It's ok."

His strong arms wrap around you, firm hands grounding you to him. Making you feel safe, and content. Your head spins from the fever, giving you little strength to move from the warm, soft spot that is Price's chest.

"Can I get you some soup? Have you eaten much today?"

You hum, lazily shaking your head.

"Alright. We'll get you something to eat then. No use fighting this on an empty stomach hey?"

He would send you away back to your room, but Price was a strong man and very rarely got sick. So he wasn't concerned with that.

He slid his hands under your arms and hoisted you up. Doesn't matter your height or size, he's got you. He picks you up in his arms, feeling you curl a little closer and brings you back to your room.

"There, gonna lay you down. Nice and slow." Price whispers, slipping you back under the covers. You grumble, grabbing onto him and pull on his shirt. He softly shushes you, but doesn't hesitate for very long.

Only until you fell asleep he said to himself...

Jokes on him, Price falls asleep with you. The exhaustion and the stress slowly melts away for a time and he rests.

It's a curious thing. You are. Sometimes you won't even be stressed, but you can see Price is stressed.

If you've had a long day you will occasionally seek him out. You know he's busy and he's got many other things on his mind so you aren't always expecting him to give up his utmost attention for you.

Until he does. Somewhere along the way Price relaxes when he sees you. He invites you all on leave back to his home and that's when he gets a moment to relax and that father figure comes out.

Especially when on leave, he remembers that you are family and he cherishes every moment with you. Simple touches on the shoulder turn into wrapping his arm around them and pulling you against him for a short hug.

But still, when he needs a break Price doesn't come to find you. He doesn't come to find anyone. He's the captain and therefore needs to sort his own shit out himself. Getting done in with paperwork and organizing recruits and requests and all that bullcrap.

Until you stop him. Like the safety roadblock before he hits a deadend.

You knock on the door to his office, hearing him call you in before stepping inside.

"Y/n, what can I do for you kiddo?"

"I just wanted to check on you. You've been in here a while.. and you didn't have much to eat at lunch today."

"I'm alright. Just filling this out and I'll be done." You could tell it was a lie by the way he looked away from you and back down to his paperwork to avoid eye contact.

You closed the door and stepped further inside.

"Anything you needed other than checking up on me??"

You walk over and grab his pen from his hand, shoving it in your pocket.

"Sergeant-!?"

"Come on Price. Take a break."

"Y/n I have stuff to do. Hand me the pen."

You shake your head and grab his hand, attempting to pull him from his chair... Which... Doesn't work. At all.

"Y/n." Price warns. "Please hand me the pen."

"how about I give it back after you take a break. Even ten minutes. Just please take a break." You gave him the most darndest puppy eyes you had and he sighed. How... How could he say no to that??

So he shook your hand off and stood. "Fine. Ten minutes."

You nod and the two of you head to the common room. He sits down on the couch to relax for a moment and you snuggle up next to him. He doesn't complain, wrapping an arm around you as you rest your head on his chest.

"Ten minutes..." Price whispered, already feeling his eyelids growing heavy. "Just... Ten minutes..." And just like that his eyes closed, leaning back against you. You smile softly, pulling off his hat and letting him rest.

"Sleep well Price." You whisper.

Yes, Price may be your captain. But he's only human and has his limits. And you're there when he needs you. Even if he's a little stubborn at first, that's ok.

Price is there for you as well, starting to grow closer and give you that affection. Hugs, cuddles and whatever else you need.

When in the safety of the base, you can break down those walls of captain and sergeant to be father and child. It was special.

😊😊😊

#call of duty #call of duty headcanons #captain john price #captain price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price #captain john price x reader #platonic x reader

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viviennevermillion · 10 months

Text

ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ

❝ always there to warm you in the winter.... always there with shelter from the rain... always there to catch you when you're falling... always there to stand you up again... family...❞ — Lady & the Tramp 2

notes: i see chapter 7 part 4 did things to our puny little minds. part of @briarvalleyarchives "anthems of old" event. a short story about lilia, malleus and whom they've lost.

warnings: character death, major chapter 7 spoilers

The winter after the beloved princess had passed was a cruel and solemn one. The snowflakes would travel through the cold air of Briar Valley as they had done so many times in the years prior and hit the ground, melting into the ones that had come before; a fate that was all too familiar to the residents of the small nation. The war had left its scars upon the lands. Beasts had run rampant in the villages; destroying homes that had been carefully built with love and dedication. The caves in the mountains were stripped of their glamour, the crystals that had reflected the sunlight that would, despite all odds, break through the cracks, were stolen by beasts unfamiliar to the once peaceful home of the fae.

Because some beasts were not as easy to handle as the demon beasts that came from the mountains to wreak havoc in the settlements. No one knew that better than the fearsome General Vanrouge. From the moment Lady Mallenoa had entered her eternal slumber; with no amount of love able to wake her once more, it was as though winter never ended. Memories of times gone by would flash through his mind; the way they had played in the snow as children and the young princess would never go easy on him; using her magic to turn the previously innocent game into a battlefield of snowballs that left Lilia no room to fight back. It took centuries for him to be able to hold a candle to her power.

Now the snow was stained with the blood of his enemies. At the time, the general had never taken a moment to think about whether the Silver Owls he had slain had a family waiting for them at home as well. They had taken his, so they were undeserving of theirs. General Vanrouge had been consumed by the rage and bitterness in his heart, destroying all who dared stand in his path, for his heart now belonged to battle. This way, he wouldn't have to mourn the past.

He remembered vividly, always, the day they laid her to rest. It seemed as though the whole kingdom was present to say their goodbyes to her. Each citizen who attended the burial was dressed in black for this day, illuminated in the dead of night only by the candles they held as the princess was carried in a casket to her final resting place. The queen had placed a single rose on the ground that to Lilia seemed as though it had swallowed her. Lilia had walked up to the grave later when everyone had left. He thought of the egg still rested and protected within the chambers of the castle. "I promise, for as long as I live, no harm shall come to it. And not a day will go by....that I don't miss your smile", his voice cracked as the tears started streaming down his face. The seasons would go by and yet the cold never passed. Not when the sun would rise on the next day, not when it had risen a hundred years later.

General Vanrouge remembered how she had taught him to play stringed instruments, something he found boring and pointless as a child. Princess Mallenoa always had such a soothing voice. He remembered how she'd sit next to her egg with Prince Levan and sing a soft song to the unborn child. Now Lilia's heart sang without a sound; a quiet melody of grief and unrest. Her funeral was the last time he had allowed himself to cry. The numbness in his heart when he'd open his eyes in the morning didn't fade for decades, centuries even. These were lifespans in the eyes of a child of man; and they seemed to have forgotten all about the devastation they had brought to Briar Valley just a few hundred years later. But a soldier's heart never forgets. It never forgives. That was what Lilia thought at the time. Pain had made him heartless and his heart had been locked away for he feared the pain it held more than any foe on the battlefield. He only hoped, wherever she was now, that she had found peace.

How many times had he wished to feel again? To wake up in the morning and hear her pounding on his door, angry about something. It had annoyed him at the time. But she had been alive.

Yes, the seasons had gone by, yet eternal winter resided in the hearts of the people. But nothing stopped another day. Nothing stopped the inevitable; that the general's heart would thaw one day and spring would arrive in Briar Valley.

It was a miracle. At this point, the egg was more of a reminder of a future that would never be. A memory. Something to make one realize that the royal family would die with Queen Maleficia; the future of the kingdom as uncertain as it had been since the day the war ended. And who would blame anyone? It had been centuries.

But Malleus was spring.

He was the reason General Vanrouge shed a tear once more. One of relief and of love he thought he no longer had inside him. He had smiled when he first saw the little dragon fae with his eggshell on his small face. A smile he was sure the princess would have teased him for. After all, wasn't it him who had always said that he hated children? Who had refused to hold her egg when she had offered it to him? Yet in that moment, he couldn't help to do so. He had picked the little prince up and looked at the queen with the brightest smile she had seen on him in centuries. Tears were streaming down his face as the small fae was just looking up at him with awe and curiosity in his eyes. People say that when someone passes, in a way they are still with you. Lilia had always thought that this was bullshit, he had been far too bitter to notice. But in that moment, he realized that Mallenoa was all around him. He held her legacy in his arms. "She saved us once again, didn't she?", he had whispered quietly, wiping the tears from his face.

The little prince grew up healthy and not one bit less of a fire hazard than his mother had been. He grew up unaware of the bloodshed that had stained his beloved homeland when his egg had come into existence. Unaware of what his parents had sacrificed, of what Lilia had sacrificed, so that he could live and grow. But he had often wondered what it would be like if his parents were still around. Sometimes Malleus would sneak out of the castle, quietly observing the people in the village at the foot of the mountain in awe. He saw little children, not much older than him, protesting under tears because they didn't want to go clothes shopping for their uncle's 900th birthday as they were dragged by their parents' hand and promised their favorite candy if they would go along without making a fuss. He witnessed a mother explaining to her toddler what a bird was. He watched and listened as a father read his son a story on a bench by the fountain. Lilia had read him lots of stories before. But Malleus had always wondered what his father's voice would have sounded like doing this.

The prince spent most of his days alone in the castle. Lilia still had work to do and his grandmother was busy ruling an entire country as he would come to do one day as well. So as soon as Malleus had learnt to read, he would spend his time in the library, curiously exploring stories from a world beyond the castle walls; hoping that he would one day spread his wings to set off and see it for himself. Lots of the stories contained themes of family but few of the families looked quite like his. There was always a mother, a father and at least one child. Malleus would take the books and show it to his guardian, asking Lilia what his father was like and whether he would have taken him fishing like the farmer did with his son in the picture book. There was a flash of pain on Lilia's expression that Malleus had never noticed back then. "I'm sure he would have", the older fae had answered. The stories Malleus heard about his own parents were always short and vague. But Lilia had told him that they were exceptional people who would be proud of him if they could see him now.

Malleus had always wondered what having a father was like. He would get his answer when Lilia took a small human into his custody. Malleus was curious about the baby, always sneaking out to visit the cottage in the forest to see what his guardian was up to. At first he was pouting because Lilia was now giving most of his attention to someone else. But with time he had grown to care for the little child of man. Lilia seemed much happier now. Time had healed his wounds despite the scars of battle and loss never truly fading. He would arrive at the castle to do a task the queen had assigned to him and the prince would greet him to ask about how Silver was doing. Malleus was happy that Silver got to grew up with a father. He never fathomed that both of them could lose him.

The world was simple back then. It was just the castle, Malleus, his grandmother, Lilia and the little human he was raising and that Malleus would often play with or read to when Lilia had work to do at the palace. He couldn't ever have imagined going to Night Raven College and finding the world had changed so much from the one he read about in books. Or that his third year would mark his last with Lilia. That he would see Silver cry and grieve like this.

The world outside of Briar Valley was one he had always longed to see and that brought him many curious, but happy memories. He had learnt about the Halloween traditions of other nations and celebrated the holiday together with them. He had cooked a meal for the first time and the person he had served it to had enjoyed it. He had seen other countries and took part in their culture.

Even Lilia still found the school to be a place for new experiences. He had met a friend on this strange invention called the "Internet" and treasured that friendship despite never having met this friend in person. This online friend would often talk to Lilia in the chat, casually mentioning how he had obtained the newest addition of his favorite manga or played a game with his brother. Lilia would hesitate for a moment, recalling memories that seemed so long ago to him now.

"I had a sister... once."

He deleted the words before he had sent them. No need to bother Gloomurai with a sob story from his life that happened centuries ago. Little did he know that the stranger on the other side of the screen understood all about the struggle of losing a sibling.

Yes, Night Raven College was full of new beginnings for Malleus and his family. But it was the way of the world that nothing could truly last forever, tragic and unfair as it was. Nothing stops another day. Not even a sleeping curse or an overblot dragon. The spell laid waste to Sage's Island, and although the damage was way less than it could have been, the aftermath of it could still be seen everywhere one looked. Malleus felt ashamed of what he had done and Lilia was reminded of scenes from the war long ago.

But everyone joined together to help and rebuild what had been destroyed. Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy. Fairies and Humans.

"Seems as though we avoided the worst case, huh?", Lilia mused as he noticed Queen Maleficia, the dragon fairy who had raised him since he was a baby, standing next to him. The queen nodded and noted what a bureaucratical nightmare this whole ordeal would be despite all.

Lilia looked at the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. The fae who had come to the island to break through the spell and fight against Malleus's overblot were now helping the locals rebuild their houses with magic. The students would hand out meals to everyone who helped. The citizens were already planting new seeds in place of the trees and fields that had been destroyed. They would one day grow into an idyllic image of a peaceful home. Just as Malleus and Silver had grown into formidable people. The young prince had fallen further than he ever did before, but now the old general was certain that he could stand on his own feet at last. Both of his sons could. And the bat fae was glad that he could depart knowing this much.

"It seems the children of man truly know no rest when it comes to progress", the queen remarked, looking at the humans who fixed the fields beside the village and the fae soldiers who were assisting them.

"It appears so"

"What are they planting?"

Lilia looked at the rising sun, remembering the faith that Princess Mallenoa once had; that mankind and fae would one day live in peace and help each other grow. He had called it foolish at the time, mocking his sister's words by calling them a fever dream. Yet this was just another way in which she had changed his world, just as the little prince he raised had been. There was a smile on his face as he thought about how this day might just mark the beginning of the future the princess had envisioned.

"Hope."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst chapter 7 spoilers #twst spoilers #twst chapter 7 #malleus draconia #malleus #lilia vanrouge #lilia #general lilia #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #mallenoa draconia #maleficia draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader

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spiderispunk · 1 year

Text

Warmth

Pairing: M’Baku x Wakandan!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Black!Reader. Smut (18+). Unprotected Sex. Fingering. Dirty Talk. Fluff.

Summary: Soft morning sex with M’Baku to keep warm. That’s it. That’s the whole fic.

A/N: Nothing but respect for my king. Hope you all enjoy this smutty fantasy. It’s my first time writing for M’Baku, so I’m a little nervous. I also edited this in like 10 minutes, so all mistakes are my own.

M’Baku is warm in the mornings. Especially compared to the cold air of the bedroom that surrounds you.

Being from the River Tribe yourself, you’re still getting used to the permafrost that covers every inch of the Jabari lands. Harsh and unforgiving, it sinks into your skin, and settles deep into your bones. The cold nights and even colder mornings are jarring. And though you probably won’t mention it out loud, though you’re sure your perceptive husband already knows, the endless peaks of snowy mountains sometimes make you miss the warm, flat soil of your old valley home.

Still, you wouldn’t trade your love for M’Baku for all the endless summers in the world. Even when your toes and fingers feel stiff and frozen, and you never think you’ll be warm again.

Pale sunlight filters through the skylight above your bed, splintering on the glass and refracting on the walls in little swatches of rainbow. Though it gently strokes your skin, it’s weak and hardly warms you. It does, however, illuminate the hulking form of your husband. Not that the king needs the feeble rays to announce his presence, his snoring does that for him.

You stretch, stirring your heavy limbs. A bad idea. Freezing air infiltrates the warm nest of furs piled on top of you. You shiver, and your body stiffens in protest. You curse under your breath, the chattering of teeth accompanying the colorful language.

Bast only knows how the Jabari first survived this all those years ago, with only their hard heads and proud hearts to keep them warm.

“You would keep the heat in if you stopped moving,” M’Baku mumbles sleepily. You can hear the amusement in his voice, warm and rich like chocolate. “Go back to sleep.”

You huff under your breath. “I can’t.” You flex your toes, feeling the twist of soft fur. “It’s too cold.”

M’Baku rolls onto his stomach and wordlessly lifts his arm. You slide into his embrace thankfully. He settles above you, a furnace in his own right. With his weight on top of you and his dewy breath in your ear, you almost allow yourself to sink deep into the syrupy waves of unconsciousness. That is, until your husband decides to open his mouth.

“How is that?” He asks, body rumbling with the deep vibration of his voice.

“Better,” you mumble, sleeping tugging heavy on your eyelids.

“You know, this would be much easier if you were naked,” M’Baku whispers in your ear, voice raspy from the last fading traces of sleep.

You can’t help the shudder that goes down your spine. “I doubt that.” You try to keep your tone even, but you suspect your husband heard the slight hitch in your voice from the grin pressed against your cheek.

“No, no. Skin to skin is very effective,” he insists, one large hand sliding under the bottom of your nightgown.

The corners of your lips tug upwards. “And how would you know that, Lord M’Baku? Who have you kept warm with this, hm, skin to skin method?”

M’Baku clears his throat. “I’ve heard about it. The, uh soldiers…they talk.” He kisses the skin behind your ear. “Shall we give it a try? Hm, ikumkani wam?” He slips one of the straps from your shoulder and presses a kiss there as well. The scrape of his beard against your skin has your mind slipping to other things, though you’re sure M’Baku’s mind has wandered there as well.

“And if I’m still cold afterwards?” You ask, the words saccharine and coy, dripping off of your tongue like honey.

He lifts his head so you can see the glimmer in the depths of his dark eyes. “Then I suppose we would have to try a different tactic.”

You sit up to let him pull the nightgown over your head and fall back against the soft bed. M’Baku’s eyes roam over the soft curves of your body, lit by the gentle sunlight. Your skin looks like honeyed whiskey. Like onyx glinting at noon. Polished mahogany and clay. He drinks you in, and you do the same.

Your gaze sliding over the rounded peaks of his shoulders. Down the expanse of his chest to his belly, and then dipping further still. To the hard flesh of his cock, stiff against your inner thigh.

M’Baku likes to sleep naked. The way Hanuman intended, he says, and you’re not complaining. It gives you easy access. Easy access for your eyes to gawk at him. To appreciate the way his shoulders roll when he stretches. Easy access for your fingers to skim over his soft skin. To feel the heat of his body pressed tightly against yours.

Easy access to do other things, like slide your hand down his stomach and wrap around his cock.

“What are you doing, my love?” He murmurs, eyelids sliding shut.

“Keeping you warm.”

“Mm, I thought that was supposed to be my job.”

You look up at him, a smile growing on your face. “Then come keep me warm, my king.”

M’Baku lowers himself over you with a short snort of laughter. “Yes, ikumkani wam.”

His lips meet yours, slow and sweet at first. Bringing a warmth that unfurls in your belly like the comfort of the first sip of tea. The rich, sharp taste of wine after a long day. His warrior’s hands are gentle on your body, calloused fingertips skimming over your jaw. Tilting your head to the side so he can kiss you deeper, press his tongue into the seam of your mouth.

And then the kiss grows faster, heated. The press of his lips more insistent. The warmth of his tongue fills you, eagerly tasting each and every moan that bubbles up from your throat. The press of his fingers hard against your skin. Stripping you down, squeezing and pulling you closer. A hand over your breast, palm scraping your nipple. The other gripping your thigh, using it for leverage to rut against your stomach.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and let M’Baku press you deeper into the bed.

His lips leave yours and carve a path over your body. Down your throat. Across your shoulder. Over the peaks of your breasts, with a detour to suck on your puckered nipples. His tongue laves over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and wetness pooling between your thighs.

M’Baku fits his hand between your legs, and plays with your folds. “Glory to Hanuman,” he breathes against your chest. “An offering all for me?” His fingers swirl around your clit, then dip to press against your entrance.

You arch your back, legs spreading of their own accord. An invitation. One he accepts willingly.

He slides a finger into your cunt, breaking you open for him. You mewl, a heady warmth sliding through you at the slow press of his fingers. His name falls off of your lips. A quiet puff of air in the vast expanse of the room.

M’Baku curls his finger, fucking you open in broad strokes. His thumb circles your clit at a leisurely pace. He’s in no hurry. Content to watch you twitch and shudder under his touch. To behold the display of hedonism splayed out across furs and cotton. He would much rather pass the day with you, tangled in the sheets. Taking his time to unravel you bit by bit, over and over again.

Let the council wait. They couldn’t do anything without him.

He is king, after all. And as king, his job was to take care of his queen.

“Are you feeling warm yet, my love?” Your husband asks, sliding a second finger inside of you.

The burn of the stretch is intoxicating. In no time, you feel as though you are floating on clouds. Ascending to the heavens.

You want more. You need more. You need him. His weight on top of you. His cock inside of you. Pushing and pushing, taking and taking. Giving until you’re spent.

“I’m still a little cold,” you say, and though you try to play it coy, the desire is embarrassingly clear in your voice.

M’Baku chuckles. “Well, we cannot have that, can we?” He asks. “How should I warm you?”

“Make love to me, M’Baku” you whisper, wrapping your hand around his cock again. You guide him towards the wanting warmth of your cunt.

“Mm. Yes, my queen.” M’Baku spreads your legs wider and situates himself between your thighs.

His lips brush over yours as he thrusts forward, letting the head of his cock slide against your clit. He groans at the warmth of you coating his aching cock; the soft skin of your thighs caging him in, urging him closer. His hips roll forward again, and again, and again, until he’s completely covered in you.

You sigh against his parted mouth, lifting your hips up to meet his next thrust. “Please,” you beg. You long to feel him move inside you. To be joined, one body, one soul.

M’Baku shushes you, his hand sliding down your stomach. He holds you in place as he fills you with one slow stroke.

Your jaw drops, and you choke at the sensation. So full. Of love. Of him. The air in your lungs exits in a pitiful whine as M’Baku pushes into you completely. You scratch at his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him closer.

M’Baku moans, low and gravelly, as the warmth of your cunt envelopes him. The hand not holding you still fists into the pillow beside your head. An anchor keeping him present. Keeping him contained. He curses quietly, eyes screwing shut.

“Bast,” you pant. “You feel so good inside me, kumkani wam.”

M’Baku’s hips snap forward at the sound of his official title falling from your lips. “Be careful, my love, or this will be over much sooner than we’d want.”

“I don’t care.” You grab his hip, trying to urge him forward. “I want you. All of you.”

He kisses your chin, but doesn’t budge. “And I want you.”

“Then take me.” You grind your own hips upwards, desperate for some kind of friction. “I’m yours.”

“Relax, my love.” M’Baku draws his hips backwards. “I will take care of you.”

And take care of you he does. His thrusts, though languid at first, are hard and deep. They would have pushed you up the bed if your lover hadn’t been holding you in place. M’Baku curls his body over you, pinning you down so that all you can do is take all that he gives. And he gives so much.

He is all around you. Warm like the summer rains of your homeland. His lips caressing your skin. Sweeping down your neck and across your shoulders. His skin pressed against yours. Heat burrowing its way into your skin. Magma settling low in your stomach, spreading into your veins, bursting on the tip of your tongue. His body rolls against yours like ocean waves. Threatening to capsize you. To drown you.

M’Baku is grinding now, just the way you like it. He hooks his arm under your leg. Spreading you apart so his hips can brush your clit with every thrust. Now the fire burns over your skin. Leaving uncontrollable decimation in its wake.

You cry out, nails scratching against his arms, and M’Baku smiles.

“There you are.” He kisses you messily. “Is this what you wanted, my queen?”

You nod. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t stop, my love.” His hips speed up a little. “Not when you’re so close. I want to watch you fall apart on my cock. I want all of Jabari Land, all of Wakanda, to know how their king pleasures his queen. Will you tell them, my love? Hm? Will you shout my name for all to hear?”

“Yes. Oh yes. Just–ah– just don’t stop. I’m going to come.” You arch into his touch, your orgasm so maddeningly close.

“Show me,” he murmurs, lifting your leg higher to change the angle, and it’s all over.

Light bursts behind your eyelids. Static fills your senses. You come with a broken wail, sharp cries of fuckfuckfuck and M’Baku and kumkani wam filling the air. M’Baku fucks you through your orgasm steadily, not stopping, even when the peak of your first crests into a smaller, but still earth-shattering, second.

His voice fills your ear. Gentle praises of how beautiful you are when you come, of how good your cunt feels squeezing around him. Filthy promises of his own impending orgasm– to fill you up until you were dripping, to keep it there inside of you, to watch it slide onto the sheets, and to fuck it back inside of you.

“I want it,” you say desperately. “I want all of it. Please, M’Baku. I want to feel you inside of me.”

M’Baku groans, fingers digging into your thigh. He kisses you deeply, burying his own strangled cry in your mouth. His hips stutter, hard thrusts growing sloppy. He can only grunt out a warning before he’s spilling his warmth inside of you.

It feels never ending. Your body seizes, legs wrapping around his waist to hold him there. M’Baku rocks against you, riding out the wave of his orgasm. His lips brush your cheek, muttering nonsensical phrases against your skin. He sags on top of you, holding you close as your heartbeats return to normal.

“Do you think they heard us?” M’Baku grins sheepishly.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You tease, limbs relaxing as the world begins to fade around you.

“Mmm,” he answers. “How are you, my love? Do you think you could sleep now?”

You nod weakly. Exhaustion already tugs heavily at your eyelids. Between the sex and the comforting weight of his body, you could be out in mere seconds.

“Good,” he whispers. “Sleep. And when you wake I promise I will be ready to make love to you again.”

“What about your council meeting?” You ask. “Your duties as king?”

“My duty as king is to keep you happy and warm.” He yawns, and rests his chin against the top of your head. “The council will just have to wait until we are done.” He says, sleep already lacing into the edges of his voice.

M’Baku makes good on his word when you awake some few hours later. Several times, in fact.

He is king after all. And a good king always keeps his promises.

Comments/Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Tags: @flightlessangelwings @luxuryberzatto

#m'baku x reader #mbaku x reader #m'baku x you #mbaku x you #black panther #winston duke #m'baku #rion writes

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