#<- hesitant to tag but i worked a little hard on this list

[sad-scarred-sassy]

The tragedy of Spring - Chapter 7

Summary: Settling into the new Spring Court, Feyre has a conversation with the High Lord of Spring.

Notes: I couldn't stop writing this so here is an early update. I hope you enjoy the Elucien cameo on this one!

Tag list: @foxcort @viktoriaashleyyx @ninthcircleofprythian

Read on ao3👇 or keep reading below the cut

“Mama?” Nyx’s little voice sounded from her arms, he had finally calmed down and his soft call had brought her back from her thoughts.

“Look baby” She half-heartedly pointed at some deer grazing contentedly in the distance and Nyx giggled. He was in a far better mood than he had been when they had first arrived here, and she was glad. They were standing in a big room with a huge arched window in the new Spring Court manor, if you could call the intricate villa created out of stone, connected by bridges and tunnels a “manor”. If Feyre had the mental capacity to enjoy the view she would, much like she could see Nyx was enjoying it from the huge window that separated them from the luscious Spring forest in all its glory. She would have never imagined what the forest could look like without those horrible foreign creatures stalking the lands, she had never seen the Spring Court during actual peace until now.

For a moment Feyre did lose herself as she stared at the landscape, the multiple levels of buildings intertwined with nature, coexisting with the enormous trees, with the crystalline waterfalls that cut the land, wildflowers and tended gardens mixing with each other, all alive and thriving with so many faeries of all types, working, living, laughing together. It was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

Her brief trance was cut short when she heard Tamlin’s voice give some more orders to his people. Her eyes traveled to his broad back facing her.

“Please, have a room ready for our guest” Tamlin said finally and the fae with green scales nodded before taking one last look at Feyre and exciting the room. Only then Feyre noticed the furniture. It was a drawing room.

She braced herself, tightening her grip on Nyx’s body, bracing his weight on her hip. When Tamlin hesitated before looking back at her she felt a cold sensation run to her stomach. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“I’m sorry, Tamlin” She blurted out as he finally turned to her. He paused.

His emerald eyes studied her for a second and she stiffened her posture.

“I will leave as soon as possible, I-I shouldn’t have come here.” She continued, her voice was rough from crying so much but she couldn’t stop the words. “This place- This place is beautiful, wonderful. It was a mistake coming here” She repeated.

Tamlin frowned slightly, then he walked slowly towards her, his hair still tied in a knot, messy. His clothes were slightly dirty and wrinkled. He had been doing hard labor when she arrived, she now realized.

He stopped just in front of her and Nyx, her eyes didn’t leave his even though they were so intense she had the unbearable urge to look elsewhere. Her face flushed as she imagined what he must be thinking.

Her, coming here, with his enemy’s son in her arms, crying for help, barefoot and looking half crazed. She almost laughed bitterly at the image.

Tamlin shook his head slightly. “There’s nowhere else I would rather you be than here” He startled her by saying, almost as a whisper.

Before she could say a word his green eyes dropped towards Nyx’s big blue eyes staring right back at him. The toddler smiled a small toothed smile at him and Tamlin’s features softened inadvertently. He smiled back.

His gaze lifted back up to hers then, and she felt her heart pound in her chest for an unknown reason.

“He has your eyes” He only said.

Feyre let go of a strained sob-laugh.

Tamlin only stared at her some more, concern painted all over his face and she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, it felt too raw, she felt too pathetic. She looked out the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to hold herself together.

“Feyre” He tried. “Tell me what happened” He urged a bit too softly. She hated it. Hated the care in his words. She deserved this, all of what was happening to her, how couldn’t he see it, how didn’t he agree?

“I won’t bother you for long” She said, still not meeting his piercing eyes. He sighed.

“Can you sit down for me, at least?” He pointed at the couches surrounding the fireplace with his thumb. She bit the inside of her cheek as she nodded.

Her bare feet paddled through the wooden floor before feeling the soft rug on her achy soles. She was so tired.

She sat down on the couch as he took the loveseat right next to it. Nyx was already yawning when she cradled him on her lap. She tucked his wings and pushed his black hair back from his soft forehead as he drifted to sleep.

“I’ve already sent reinforcements to guard the borders. You’re safe here” He said softly and she nodded, not meeting his eyes. She knew she should tell him, she owed it to him to be clear about the actual risks of giving her refuge. But the words felt so heavy on her mouth, so foreign and unreal.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” He said. “Just… enough to be prepared. Does he know you’re here?”

She finally reunited their eyes and somehow it was even more unbearable. Shame and guilt and embarrassment flooded her veins when looking at him. She took a steading breath.

“I don’t know” She said. “I don’t think he knows where I am yet. But I think he will figure it out soon” She wet her dry lips before looking at him again. “Tamlin, it’s worse than I thought, I honestly don’t- I’m scared he will come and destroy-“

“Don’t worry about that”

“But it is very likely, I have his heir-“

“You have your son.” He said matter-of-factly and she swallowed hard. “Trespassing would be considered an act of war, and I don’t think he’s in the position to start one” He said calmly. “Either way, we are prepared.” He rubbed his hands on his pants. “You should rest, let me take you to your room” He stood up and she simply nodded, picking herself up along with her baby as she let him winnow her just to appear right in front of a wooden door.

He grabbed the knob, his body closer to hers than he had been since she arrived, she could feel the heat emanating from him, his manly scent invading her senses which she ignored. He paused.

“Feyre, what did he do?” He said so low she felt it coursing through her body. His green eyes were digging themselves into hers so deeply, she couldn’t help herself anymore, he was looking at her like he needed to know, and she needed to have the truth out of her system.

She took a calming breath before she spoke. “I found out he made me seal a deal with him Under The Mountain when I was drunk on faerie wine” She said with a small voice. Tamlin’s body tensed instantly, every cell listening carefully as she spoke. She gulped and took a breath, holding Nyx closer as her extremities trembled. “He created our mating bond with a bargain” She said, the words so cold and nauseating that bile rose up to her throat. Tamlin straightened at her words, face unreadable, eyes moving quickly as he took the information, face turning from lost to shocked to outraged.

His mouth opened and closed, grabbing the door handle so hard it was a surprise it hadn’t broken yet.

“H-how” He managed. “Hybern… the king should have broken it along with the other one” He blinked.

“I don’t know… I think he may have thought he was breaking both when we only knew about the first one… still I don’t know the ways he managed it and why exactly he did it, other than…” She trailed off as she looked down at her son sleeping beautifully in her arms. Tamlin’s eyes only widened. She could see the battle going on inside his head, he looked like he wanted to crush something, someone, but he surprised her when he took a steading breath and gulped his anger down.

“I’m sorry” He said and she only stared at him. “We will talk about it more if you want, now, please rest.” He finally opened the door. “If you need me just ring the bell next to your bed” He stepped back as she stepped inside the spacious room.

“Thank you” She said. He bowed his head slightly and then he closed the door, leaving her and her baby alone

—

When Lucien Vanserra finally found the High Lord of the Spring Court in the depths of the forest, shirtless and half-ferally cutting tree trunks with an ax that had obviously lost all sharpness years ago, making the wood splinter instead of slicing through it, he knew for sure they had come to the right place.

“What did that oak ever do to you?” He asked as a way of greeting, but Tamlin didn’t even look at him as he continued on. There was a silent rage in him he had never seen before, and he honestly felt bad for those logs of wood.

“What are you doing Tamlin?” He tried again.

“I’m cutting wood” He mumbled, as he exploded another trunk almost as thick as his torso.

“In the middle of the night” He pointed out. Tamlin simply ignored him.

Lucien sighed. “Is she okay?” He asked and Tamlin finally paused for a second, before he delivered a final blow to the last remaining log, making splitters fly across the air, getting stuck in his hair.

“She’s resting” He said, breathing much less heavily than he should be for the amount of work he had put in. “Do you know everything?” His eyes didn’t meet Lucien’s as he began to load a cart with all the wood he had exploded.

“Elain was the one who saw it for her,” Lucien explained. The whole thing was still hard to process. Lucien had seen plenty of vile things during his long life, but a betrayal of this magnitude was something that would make Beron hesitate. When Elain had explained to him and Nesta what had happened, he knew they had to leave the Night Court immediately. He had winnowed them to Spring almost instantly, after trying to get Nesta to come with them. She had declined with a determination he had learned to never cross when it came with Archerons. Elain had known Feyre would be here even before arriving, while Lucien still struggled to believe it. He had spent hours looking for Tamlin as his mate tried to gather where exactly her sister was located, since no one was willing to tell her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked his friend as he helped him with the logs of wood. Judging by the haggard look on his face he wasn’t taking the events too well.

“I’m not the one you should be asking that” He replied.

“Quit diverting my questions. I can see right through you, and you look like shit”

“Then it was a stupid question to begin with” He replied and Lucien granted him that it was.

Tamlin sat down on the floor, back resting on the wooden cart, grabbing a used and abused handkerchief from his back pocket and cleaning his face with it. Lucien brushed his hands together, getting rid of the splinters, and sat down next to him.

“How didn’t I see it?” Tamlin said to himself, looking at a distance.

“Why would you? It looked like a real mating bond, even if it was a bit… odd”

He had always thought their bond seemed a bit unbalanced, to put it in some way, but he had assumed it was a natural occurrence to Rhysand’s overly controlling nature.

Tamlin sighed loudly. “She has nowhere to go” He continued. It was a truth Lucien had known for a long time, how Feyre’s deeds had isolated her from the rest of Prythian. Now he realized it probably hadn’t been pure coincidence.

“She has you” He said. The High Lord shook his head.

“I also failed her before”

“You can make up for it now. Will you let her stay?” He asked him, but he already knew the answer. Tamlin’s hands gripped the piece of cloth tightly.

“I would never turn her away”

“He’s going to come, one way or another” Lucien said as a matter of fact.

“Let him” He spoke eerily. Lucien knew that determined gleam in his green eyes, he had only ever seen him look like that when it came to Feyre and no one else. Lucien rested his head on the cart on his back as he took a breath.

“Elain told me he made her do that promise back when she was a human… back in Under the Mountain. Why?” Tamlin tensed instantly. It was confusing, the fact that Rhysand chose a mere powerless human to mate and bear his heirs, as if he somehow knew that she would be one of the most powerful beings in Prythian. He would have to discuss this with Elain later, try to figure out what else she can gather from this whole ordeal, what did Rhysand know beforehand?

“It makes no sense” Tamlin rubbed his eyes. “I should have fought harder for her back then” His voice was hoarse.

Lucien shook his head slightly. “How?” He knew he still faulted himself for everything that had happened to her back in that gods’ awful place. “You were overpowered, we all were”

Tamlin shook his head, lost in thought, probably reliving everything. “I should have sent her further away with her family, I should have-”

“Tam” Lucien cut him off but the male barely registered it. His green eyes were bloodshot, his body so tense it was almost trembling. “Listen to me” He said with a stern voice and his friend’s gaze finally met his. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this, not this” Lucien said, holding his eyes unflinchingly. Tamlin understood what he meant then, he could see he remembered all the times he had also looked Lucien in the eyes and told him those exact words whenever he felt like giving up after Jesminda, when the guilt had been too much to bear. He wouldn’t let him fall down that path too, not again.

“You fucked up, yes. You lost her trust once. Don’t make the same mistake” Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder. Then he stood up from the ground and offered his hand. “She’s here for a reason, Tamlin. She didn’t hesitate, she took her baby and winnowed here without a second thought”

His friend looked at him for a long moment before taking his hand as he helped him up to his feet again.

“Thank you” He said quietly but not weakly. Lucien only nodded.

“Now, quit moping and get some rest. Gotta be prepared to kick some bat’s ass if they dare present themselves” He half joked. “And knowing them, they won't take long”

—

Feyre was sitting in the bed while Elain combed her hair when the thought lit up inside her mind like a wildfire.

“Did he know?” She blurted out to her sister, who paused her movements to look at her.

“What?” She asked softly.

“That I would die and get the High Lord’s powers” She blurted. “D-did he know?”

“I don’t know” Elain said, dropping the comb on her lap.

Feyre’s mind had not stopped for one moment since she had arrived, piecing clues and conversations together as if she was finally seeing things for the first time. When Elain had finally found her she had discovered her sitting on her bed, wrapped under a towel, looking at the wall, lost in thought. This idea in particular had arrived to her like a stone falling on her head.

“He told Amarantha about me” Feyre said. “He had made Tamlin and Lucien beg on their knees for his silence, but then he told her anyway”

She looked at Elain’s face, her sister was looking at her with a mix of sadness and anger in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I can try to look.” She said. “But it may take me longer, since I can’t touch him” She said, and Feyre only nodded.

Things didn’t add up, and the fact that he had been the one to set things in motion for her to go save Tamlin made too much sense now. All of the things she had never questioned herself, had never questioned him, were now coming back to her in waves, as if she had woken up from a glamour he had placed upon her.

“Feyre” Her sister called her. “You need to rest, we will figure this out tomorrow” She caressed her hair. Feyre’s eyes landed on her sleeping child in his crib.

“Elain, I don’t think-” She swallowed hard. “I don’t see what’s the point of anything anymore”

“Don’t talk like that” Her older sister said, but Feyre couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t stop the words coming out of her mouth.

“It’s true, he destroyed everything I am, everything I was. I- I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore and I thought at least I had him, at least I had a mate and I had a family. I finally had a family and it was all fake” She couldn’t help but sob as she said the last words and Elain held her to her chest. Feyre hated crying, hated feeling weak, and that was all she felt for so long now, she didn’t know who she was, who she was supposed to be, what she was supposed to fight for. Did she even deserve to fight?

“Listen to me” Her sister held her tightly to her chest. “He didn’t destroy you” She said as she grabbed her with both hands and with surprising strength pushed her to look at her fawn-brown colored eyes. “He tried to own you, he tried to tame you and he couldn’t do it” She said, her face the definition of determination. “He will pay for what he’s done, and you-” She looked at her directly into her eyes. “You will thrive”

Feyre felt silent tears sliding down her face as her sister spoke to her in a way she had never done before.

“You have a family. You have Lucien, Nesta and me. You have him” She directed her gaze to the sleeping baby and Feyre felt the fire in her gut, the deep maternal need to protect him, to never let him go. “And you have Tamlin” Elain said more quietly, making Feyre’s eyes snap back to hers. “He will not let anything happen to you, or Nyx. I know it.”

“I don’t think I deserve it” She said with a small voice, speaking the darkest thoughts in her mind. “These people Elain, I’ve wronged them so horribly, I don’t deserve their help, their care. I don’t deserve you or Lucien or Nesta. I don’t deserve Tamlin and I certainly don’t deserve Nyx” She let the words spill from her and Elain only listened, her eyes wide and glossy.

“Then make yourself worthy again” Elain said calmly. “Look these people in the eyes and tell them you’re sorry. Help them as they help you.” Elain smiled at her softly. “Right the wrongs, find your power again. Do it for him” She nodded at her son again. “Do it for you”.

Feyre only nodded her head softly before Elain embraced her again and she let her, let herself cry and be comforted by her older sister in a way that she had never let herself before.

After a long time of crying and Elain telling her it would all be okay, Feyre finally managed to fall into a deep sleep, feeling like a child in her sister’s arms but knowing that when the day came, she would find the woman she had been before, the one who had found the strength to enter a cursed mountain and save the one she loved, the woman who had endured unimaginable things and persevered, the woman who had learned the truth and had taken a decision to leave, she would find her and she would pull her from the inside and she would not break.

Not anymore.

[cecilthecowardly]

What are your top three moomin adaptations (be detailed) (image accompaniment)

OKAY SO. for the uninitiated moomin is one of my biggest interests in the world. i am very picky about my moomin adaptations. i have beef with the 90s anime that i cannot ever discuss out of fear i will be crucified for it.

THAT BEING SAID!!! MY TOP THREE MOOMIN ADAPTATIONS EVER!!!

#3:

the moomin comics! originally beginning in around the 1950s, i'm hesitant to call it an adaptation necessarily since it was created by tove jansson and her brother lars. it's more of an addendum to the moomin canon, but it's different enough tonally and with the content itself that i feel as if it could be either a grey area or an adaptation. i love it for its plot and sense of humor like. oh my god

(the context is that the moomin family feels too basic and normal for how cool snufkin is, so moominpappa is lying for fun here) (i believe they do end up committing tax evasion, though)

#2:

moominvalley 2019! it's a computer generated adaptation made for modern audiences but it's very faithful to its source and was my first introduction to the moomins, actually. it's comedic while being very heartfelt and emotional in its themes, motifs, and characterization, and the relationship between snufkin and moomintroll is at the forefront of every decision made. the voice acting is phenomenal -- taron egerton of sing and rocketman fame voices moomintroll, for instance, and matt berry (lazslo from wwdits) voices moominpappa -- and the song choices are too! they got a lot of european indie singers like cavetown, girl in red, and dodie to compose and sing music for the show and it pays off so well. it embodies moomin perfectly and i adore it so much. also once again just Look

#1:

THE FUZZY FELT MOOMINS. it feels silly to put this at number one because of how strongly i feel about the 2019 adaptation but this one is just. so important to me. it's so comforting and sweet and a rather faithful adaptation in my experience. the music is enchanting and beautiful and the animation is so captivating and charming that it just has to be at number one because it's so SO GOOD. one guy narrates the entire thing and he does little voices for everybody and it's adorable to me. he narrates it as if it were the books -- and i believe they do just quote directly from the books' translations at times -- and it's phenomenal in every way. i just love it so much i have every one of the episodes on a USB

[fettuccin-e]

So Good

Kinktober Day 17: Praise Kink

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, fingering (r!recieving), praise kink of course, Miguel has a filthy fucking mouth, shy!reader, miguel going feral because of course he does (w/c: 1.2K)

A/N: Back on my Miguel bullshit for my Kinktober catch-up of course. I cannot help it when he is so big and broad and sexy okay??? Anyway enjoy him goin' feral for his girl for 1k words hehehe (For the month, I have been following this list from flightlessangelwings!)

He first noticed it after a mission, and cursed himself for never seeing it before. 

It had been innocent, tugging you close to his side as you both walked through the portal back to HQ, whispering a “you did good out there,” into your ear. Innocent enough.

But you had practically squeaked, your eyes looking anywhere but him, nearly pulling out of his grasp. Miguel saw how your thighs clenched together at the compliment, and it takes everything in him not to take you in the hallway right then, bury his face between them.

He doesn’t. He opts for filing it away in his mind, saving the information for later, somehow knowing that it would be important.

You both hadn’t been together for very long then, still in the trial stage of this new beautiful thing between you both. He was still hesitant to kiss you then, you had still been hesitating to go to his apartment with him.

But Miguel watches, waits, and of course, gathers more information. Starts complimenting you more on missions, in the office. Tells you what good work you’ve done, how you look so pretty in the new dress he bought you. It makes you fluster nearly immediately, your gaze pinned to the floor as you smile shyly, and fuck, those gorgeous, gorgeous thighs clench together every time. Taunting him.

Finally, after months of watching, waiting, he gives in.

He’s got you spread out beneath him, practically sobbing as he fucks you deep on his thick fingers. You loosen up so easily for him, desperate for it, your slick fucking dripping around his hand. Finally, after so long waiting to tell you exactly what goes on in his mind when he has you like this,  he lets himself speak aloud.

“So good, hermosa, taking me so well,” he murmurs, and watches as your eyes fly open, a strangled moan flying from your lips. He can’t help the smile that plays at his lips. “You like that baby? Like hearing how good you are, how perfect you sound when I’m playing with this gorgeous pussy?” He can fucking feel the way your cunt clenches around his fingers with his words.

“Fuck, oh my God, Miguel-” you gasp, but you can’t seem to help yourself as you grind your hips towards Miguel’s hand. He adds another finger, stretching you wide to take his cock. “You- you can’t just-”

Miguel growls, leaning forward to nip at your jaw with fanged teeth. “Oh baby, of course I can. I can tell you how fucking good this pussy feels around my fingers, how it’s going to feel even better around my cock. This little cunt gets so wet for me, doesn’t she?” You whine wordlessly, and Miguel grinds the calloused pads of his fingers into that sweet spot that makes you fucking scream for him. “Answer me,” he snarls.

“Yes! Yes, ‘m so fucking wet, need you to fuck me so bad, Miguel,” you cry, humping your hips desperately into his hand, chasing your orgasm. 

“Come on, sweetheart, soak my fucking hand,” he says, deep and dark, his eyes trained on the way your entrance leaks around his fingers. He reaches a thumb up to rub hard circles into your clit, and chuckles darkly when you let out a shaky moan with your orgasm, clenching around his thick fingers and somehow getting even wetter.

“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he mumbles, and your eyelids flutter shut, trying to breathe through the aftershocks.

Miguel pulls his hand out of your gaping entrance, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking your slick off his fingers. “Tastes so good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine softly under your breath, completely at a loss for words.

Leaning down, he licks into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself as he notches the thick, leaking head of his cock to your entrance, pushing in, in, in.

Like every time you take him, it’s so much, and you gasp into his mouth as his cock reaches so deep inside, spreading you wide enough that you fear you’ll break.

“I know, amorcita, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it?” he whispers against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. "You’re taking it so well for me though, baby, so fucking good for me.” 

He can’t help the groan that wrenches its way out of his throat when you clench around him like a vice, moaning high in the back of your throat. His hips move of their own accord, pulling slowly out of you before he shoves himself back in, and it feels like he reaches even deeper.

“God, Miguel-” you moan, “it feels so good, you feel so big.” And Miguel’s vision blurs at the edges, his eyes tingeing red at your words.

He loses himself to it, the way your cunt squeezes him every time he pushes inside, hot and tight and fucking maddening. You claw at his shoulders every time he presses deep, grinding the tip of his cock into your cunt while overwhelming pleasure sparks up your spine.

He wraps his strong arms around the small of your back, tugging you up into a nearly impossible arch as he fucks into you like a goddamn animal, your head pressed back into the pillows. “So fucking perfect,” he snarls, and God, he’s not even talking to you anymore. His eyes are unfocused, wild, unable to focus on your face or the sight of your swollen pussy as you take him over and over and over. But he doesn’t stop talking. 

“Fucking perfect, beautiful girl, taking my cock so goddamn well. My fucking girl, so good to me with her perfect pussy, feels so good, Dios, necesito este cuerpo constantemente, mi nena, mierda-”

Your head swims, blood pounding in your ears as he takes and takes and takes. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, choked moans forcing their way from your lungs.

Your orgasm rips through you without warning, without buildup, your body just locking up and electrified like a livewire as you soak his cock, his thighs. 

“Good girl,” he rasps. “That’s my good fucking girl.”

“Shit- Miguel-” you keen, but he only shushes you, nearly hissing through his fangs, as he pushes as deep as he can into your body, pumping you full as his cock pulses inside of you. It’s fucking everything, pure bliss, and you both tremble through it together. He lowers your hips slowly back down to the bed, keeping himself buried deep inside while you quake through the aftershocks.

Time passes, but you can’t tell how fast it does. Only that you try to match your breathing together, Miguel wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Fucking perfect,” he whispers, but you’re too fucked out to respond.

He pulls out slowly, rolling you to your side, and plastering himself to your back. You can hear the way he breathes you in, and you settle into his warm body.

“Got a thing for compliments, baby?” he murmurs into your hair.

“You ass, I was trying to be subtle about that,” you admonish, but you can’t help the way you smile.

“Can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. You tilt your head to the side, and Miguel leans to meet you in a kiss.

“I’ve still got my secrets, O’Hara,” you mutter against his lips, and Miguel grins.

“If you say so, baby.”

[sttoru]

“𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐓.” — ISABEL LAROSA.

𝓲. a collection of fictional works about gojo satoru as reader’s older boyfriend (8-14 year age gap). keep in mind that the reader is and will always be portrayed as an adult & university student — being minimum 20 years of age.

𝓲𝓲. the works are divided into both sfw and nsfw categories. please read the tags properly before you read each piece listed down below.

𝓲𝓲𝓲. requests for this series are closed for now. there will be an announcement made when the requests for this series are open again. i also have no deadline to finish any of the fics stated down below — this is a continuous and incomplete series for as long as i say it is.

general content warning: age gap & size difference. if you’re uncomfortable with these themes, please scroll or click away.

\\ in his office — nsfw

your boyfriend shows you just how much he adores you in his office.

\\ ‘jealousy, jealousy’ — sfw.

your boyfriend comes to pick you up from uni. little did you know that his good looks would attract much unwanted attention from your classmates; cw. jealousy.

\\ ‘caught in the act’ — nsfw

your boyfriend catches you masturbating while he was away.

\\ ‘maturity’ — sfw.

your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.

\\ ‘future wife’ — nsfw

your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.

\\ ‘first - and definitely not last - good impression’ — (n)sfw.

your boyfriend wants to introduce you to his friends and co-workers. you were hesitant at first, due to the insecurities you have about your age difference. luckily, satoru knew just how to calm you down. cw. to be added.

\\ ‘bragging and its consequences’ — sfw + nsfw.

your boyfriend is to be bragged about. especially when he’s got the good looks, money and personality. satoru catches you in the act one day as you talk about him to your friends. cw. to be added.

\\ ‘birthday remembrance’ — sfw + nsfw.

your boyfriend welcomes you home after a stressful day at university. whilst spending the day with him, you feel like you had forgotten something important. and satoru knew just the way to remind you of it. cw. to be added

\\ ‘spoiled princess’ — nsfw.

you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.

\\ ‘a drug’ — n(sfw)

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

more to be added . . .

OTHERS.

texting with him (hcs)

texts with him (smau)

cuddle weather (drabble)

wearing his hoodie (nsfw)

first time at his house

𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍 © 2023. do not steal, copy or translate my works in any way or form. do not use my self-made banners and dividers.

[fangirl-dot-com]

The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.” 

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point. 

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that? 

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there. 

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were. 

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better. 

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars. 

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots. 

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left. 

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door. 

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories. 

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you. 

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.” 

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation. 

“What do you plan to do with it?” 

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.” 

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.” 

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder. 

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you. 

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.” 

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?” 

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.” 

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room. 

“Kid!” 

“Seb?” 

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were. 

And they brought an assistant with them. 

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you. 

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!” 

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you. 

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.” 

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room. 

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you. 

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.” 

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.” 

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you. 

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head. 

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?” 

Another shake as a mouth dropped. 

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?” 

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.” 

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman. 

“House?” 

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him. 

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?” 

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.” 

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming. 

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.” 

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy. 

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max. 

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could. 

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper. 

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him. 

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?) 

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder. 

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.” 

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house. 

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you. 

“Kid?” 

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.” 

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you. 

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”) 

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms. 

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.” 

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage. 

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?” 

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop. 

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly. 

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next. 

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again. 

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.” 

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car. 

“What kind of car is that?” 

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession. 

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.) 

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.” 

Max looked down at the hyper car. 

“What that a V12?” 

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.” 

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.” 

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it. 

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him. 

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost. 

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.” 

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it. 

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier. 

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.” 

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.  

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.” 

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?” 

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink. 

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink. 

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!” 

“And the track?” 

“You have a track!?” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[novaursa]

The Searing Flame (chapter in-between chapter)

- Summary: Aemond drags Grand Maester Orwlye to Aegon, so the maester can confess what he suggested to your mother.

- Paring: (wife) twin!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Note: This is the expansion of The Searing Flame, this chapter happens in-between the last chapter, after Orwlye suggests to Alicent that the reader should be moved into a separate chamber, away from Aegon, just before it continues with her recovery. For all the parts and more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Word count: 1 800+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The sharp scent of burnt flesh and incense still clings to the air in your chambers, a cruel reminder of the fires that raged at Rook's Rest. Your body lies motionless beside your twin, Aegon, as the weight of your shared injuries presses down on the room like a storm about to break. You sleep deeply once more, not out of peace but because your body is struggling to mend itself, trying desperately to pull you from the constant brink.

Aegon stirs beside you, every breath a reminder of his own pain. His body, though awake, is just as broken as yours—his skin still angry with burns, his mind haunted by what almost happened. His hand, heavy with exhaustion, reaches out, instinctively finding yours. The touch of your cool skin is the only thing that reassures him, the only thing that keeps him tethered to the moment.

The door slams open. Aemond strides in, his one good eye burning with fury, dragging the reluctant figure of Grand Maester Orwyle behind him. Aegon blinks, lifting his head slightly, a wince creasing his face as he tries to focus on his younger brother.

"Wake up, brother," Aemond hisses, a cold edge in his voice as he drags the Maester toward the bed. "Orwyle has something he needs to confess."

Aegon's brows furrow as he struggles to sit up, his body protesting with every movement. His hand instinctively tightens around yours, unwilling to let go, as if even in your sleep you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, barely more than a rasp. "What is it?"

Aemond pushes Orwyle forward with little gentleness, his face twisted in disgust. The Maester stumbles, looking down at his feet as though the stone floor might offer him some escape from the Targaryen fury bearing down on him.

"Tell him what you suggested to our mother," Aemond growls, his voice low and dangerous.

Orwyle glances nervously between the two brothers, his hands clasped in front of him, knuckles white. "I... I merely advised the Dowager Queen on... precautions," he begins, his voice shaking. "Queen Y/N... your sister... her condition—"

"Speak plainly, Maester," Aegon interrupts, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. His grip on your hand tightens further, a desperate edge entering his gaze.

Orwyle swallows hard, his voice trembling. "I suggested to the Dowager Queen that it might be best if... if Y/N were moved to another chamber. Somewhere quieter. Away from the distractions and—"

"To what end?" Aegon snaps, his eyes widening in alarm, a sharp heat rising in his chest. The thought of you—his twin, his wife—being taken away from him, of your shared connection being severed, even temporarily, fills him with dread. He can feel the rage bubbling up inside him, twisting through the pain that already gnaws at his bones.

Orwyle hesitates, glancing nervously at Aemond, who stands like a viper ready to strike. "Her condition is delicate. I... I fear that... that Queen Y/N may not—"

"May not what?" Aegon growls, his voice more forceful now. "Finish your words, Maester."

Aemond steps forward, his voice a vicious whisper. "He told our mother that he thinks our sister will die." He spits the words as though they poison his tongue. "And he wants to hide her away in some dark room to wait for the end."

Aegon’s heart slams against his ribs, a mixture of panic and fury overwhelming him. His breathing becomes labored, his entire being rebelling against the very idea of losing you. "She will not die," he hisses through clenched teeth. "She is stronger than you think, stronger than any of you fools could imagine."

"Your Grace, please," Orwyle pleads, his voice faltering. "I only meant—"

"You meant to hide her away, to leave her to rot while she still breathes!" Aegon’s voice is almost a roar now, his body trembling with the effort it takes to keep himself upright. His eyes blaze with a fury that even the fires of Rook’s Rest could not diminish. "Fix her, Orwyle. Do whatever you must. You will not touch her again unless it is to heal her."

Aemond steps closer, his own anger radiating off him like heat from a dragon’s breath. "You will do as my brother says," he growls. "Or I will see to it personally that your head no longer sits on your shoulders."

The threat hangs heavy in the air, and Orwyle trembles, nodding rapidly. "Of course, Your Graces. I will— I will do everything within my power. I swear it."

"Then go," Aegon commands, his voice laced with barely controlled rage. "And remember, Maester, I will hold you accountable for every breath my sister takes from this moment on."

Orwyle quickly backs out of the room, bowing his head repeatedly as he escapes the tension that coils like a snake in the chamber. The door shuts behind him, leaving only the low crackle of the hearth and the heavy breathing of the brothers in the air.

Aegon leans back against the headboard, his gaze immediately falling to your still form. His fingers brush your pale cheek, as if willing you to wake, to open your eyes and tell him you’re still here with him.

"I won’t let them take you," he murmurs softly, his voice barely a whisper now that the storm has passed. "Not ever."

A harsh silence fills the chamber as Aegon’s hand remains on yours, his thumb absently stroking the back of it as if the rhythm alone could rouse you from the slumber that holds you captive this night. His eyes are locked on your face, every breath he takes more labored than the last. You are the mirror of him, always have been, and the thought of you slipping away into the abyss once more twists his insides into knots he can’t unravel.

Aemond lingers by the door, his shadow stretching long across the floor in the low light. He watches his brother, his good eye narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. There’s something unreadable in his expression—something that hovers between concern and frustration, though Aemond’s face is so often a mask, even Aegon struggles to know which.

"She will recover," Aegon mutters, as if speaking it aloud will make it true. His voice trembles slightly, though he tries to hide it. "She has to."

Aemond steps forward, moving closer to the bed, his boots softly scuffing the stone floor. "She’s strong, brother. But Maester Orwyle is a fool." His gaze shifts from your pale face to the burns still marking Aegon’s flesh. "You should be resting as well."

"I’ll rest when she wakes again and eats more," Aegon bites back, eyes flickering toward Aemond with a sharpness that cuts. "Until then, I’m not leaving her side."

Aemond exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders visible. He approaches the foot of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back, watching you closely. “I wouldn’t ask you to leave her, Aegon. I wouldn’t dare. But you have to consider the cost of pushing yourself too far."

"The cost?" Aegon scoffs, his voice brittle with disbelief. "The cost is losing her. My twin, my wife—" His voice cracks slightly, and he looks away, his jaw clenched tight. "How am I to consider anything else when she’s lying here like this?"

Aemond doesn’t immediately reply. He stares at the faint rise and fall of your chest, and a rare flicker of vulnerability passes through his eye. His hand moves to grip the hilt of his sword, as if anchoring himself. He’s seen you fight alongside Aegon in spirit and resolve, always his equal, always his mirror. To see you now—broken, vulnerable—is a sight he finds hard to bear.

"I’ll see to it Orwyle doesn’t get near her again," Aemond finally says, his voice quiet but firm, almost a vow. "But you need to trust she’ll fight her way back to you. She’s always been stronger than either of us."

Aegon lets out a soft, bitter laugh, more of a grunt than anything, though there’s no humor in it. His eyes never leave your face. “I can’t trust anything right now. Not the Maesters, not the healers. Not even the gods.” His voice turns raw, desperate. “I should have been able to protect her.”

Aemond’s jaw tightens, his expression darkening. “You weren’t the one who failed, Aegon. It was the dragons. The battlefield. We’re always at their mercy.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a truth neither of them can deny. The dragons, so often a symbol of their power, are just as much a source of their destruction. Even their might could not shield you from the flames of war. The thought gnaws at both of them, filling the room with a bitter silence.

Aegon leans forward, his forehead resting against your hand, as if drawing strength from the warmth of your skin. “If she dies,” he says softly, the words almost strangled by emotion, “I’ll have nothing left. She’s everything. My other half.”

Aemond watches his brother, a flicker of pain crossing his usually impassive features. He knows the bond the two of you share—he’s seen it since you were children, always two halves of the same soul, inseparable. It’s a bond that he, despite his own strengths, has never quite understood. He lingers at the edges of your twin connection, watching from the outside in.

“She won’t die, Aegon,” Aemond says quietly, his tone less harsh than before. “She’s a Targaryen. And you know as well as I do that Targaryens are not easily felled.”

There’s a pause, and Aegon finally lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting Aemond’s. “Then you’ll help me ensure that,” he says, more a command than a request.

Aemond gives a single, sharp nod, his eye glinting in the dim light. “Of course.”

The room falls into a tense stillness again, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. Aemond turns to leave, but he hesitates at the door, looking back one last time. His eye lingers on you, and for a moment, something softens in his gaze. A brief flicker of something unspoken, something he would never admit aloud. Perhaps it’s worry. Perhaps it's a regret that he can't do more. But then it’s gone, his mask slipping back into place as easily as ever.

"Rest when you can," Aemond says, his voice firm again, though not without a hint of concern. "Both of you."

Aegon doesn’t respond, his focus already back on you. He watches as Aemond slips out of the room, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving the chamber once again steeped in silence.

His hand returns to yours, his thumb brushing your skin with the same relentless, aching hope. He leans down, pressing his lips against your forehead, his voice a whisper against your skin.

“Don’t leave me, Y/N.”

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 3

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender neutral, friends to lovers, meet cute, apologetic Leo

Part 1, part 2

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a clooking broach he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

☆

Really struggled with this chapter I'm so so sorry if it's bad!!

Tag list!!

@lunaflyer @wings-of-sapphire @ssak-i @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @envyjmoney @leonardo-dabitchy @wookiesmiles-blog @sloppy-syrup

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leo had never actually been to this basketball court before, he knew of it, had maybe seen it in passing a few times but it was always too busy.

Too risky.

But today that wasn't an issue, he didn't have to worry about getting confused glances from others, today he was one of them. He had the cloaching brooch safely tucked under his hoodie, fidgeting with it from time to time from a mix of anxiousness and excitement.

He knew this was a pretty popular park for teens his age, it was mostly students who hung out here and it didn't take much for him to start making a friend or two. His basketball skills were flawless, using his best moves to win over a couple kids at the park was definitely helping his ego.

Though he made sure to keep an eye out for Y/N, knowing that they hung around here sometimes, they'd have to show up some time soon.

Meanwhile he could just keep embracing being a cool ass human. Lev was the name he'd given himself, it would've been insanely obvious if he'd kept his own name, he wasn't that stupid. It had felt weird at first, introducing himself as someone he wasn't. But he couldn't deny that it was beginning to grow on him as he heard other people use it.

Leo, or rather, Lev let out a satisfied huff as he confidently passed the ball, still riding this confidence boost. He looked amazing and his charms were working on everyone! Just wait until Y/N sees him now.

"Ow!"

A basketball in the face.

That was the cherry on top of Y/N's crappy day.

As if they hadn't already regrettably slept through their alarm that morning, which made them miss their school bus and forget their lunch. Then once they had finally arrived to class, their teacher had decided to give them a surprise test that they knew they'd flunked. Now they had to suffer the embarrassment of a basketball being thrown their direction.

Unlucky.

They cringed at the pain bringing their hands up to their face. The stray ball had hit them hard, but luckily no blood stained their hands.

"Oh mi gosh! I'm so so sorry- Are you okay?" A voice asked, from afar.

"Yeah... I'm okay just a bit-" Y/N hesitated as they finally met the concerned strangers gaze, "-dizzy..."

As they looked up to him he was giving them a sense of deja vú. His apologetic expression gave off a sort of familiarity but they couldn't exactly place it. Maybe it was the dizziness they were feeling from the impact of the ball, but the soft look of concern across his face made their heart flutter a little.

"Hey? Hello? Still with me?" He asked anxiously.

Y/N blinked realising they'd just been staring blankly up at the worried stranger, his voice snapping them back to reality.

"Yes- yep- I'm still here." They assured sheepishly in reply, glancing away.

He let out a relived sigh before chuckling softly, "Lost you for a second there huh? I don't blame you, that was a hell of a hit," His voice was calm with a friendly air to it, weirdly comforting though again that may have been due to the head trauma.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked again.

"I'm alright," They assured, the dizzy sensation leaving them for now, "Only thing bruised is my ego."

He let out a small chuckle, glad to hear them sounding alright.

"I'm sure your ego will recover soon enough," he smiled, "Luckily, I don't see a scratch. Phew, wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty face."

They blinked at the sudden compliment, the words echoing in their still slightly dizzy head, unsure if he was being serious or not.

"Pfft- are you trying to make me forget that you just almost gave me a concussion?"

"Me? I would never..." He hesitates, glancing away sheepishly as they call him out, "But, if I was... would it work?"

They roll their eyes in a playful manner and shrug, "Maybe try starting with an apology."

He chuckled, as they playfully chastised him.

"Right, right,"

He smiled sincerely, a mix of embarrassed and genuinely sorry, jokingly getting onto his knees.

"I humbly apologise to..." He glanced up to them, prompting for their name.

"Y/N."

"I humbly apologise to Y/N, for accidentally launching a basketball into your pretty face," He finished, his tone light-hearted, though they could tell there was a hint of sincerity behind his humor.

"Seriously though, I am sorry, I'm not really used to playing basketball with such a large audience." He admitted gesturing to the court, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up straight.

"Don't worry about it," They replied calmly, pretty charmed by his playful attitude.

As they looked back to him, something about his face felt weird. Like they'd met before, however as much as they tried Y/N just couldn't place him.

"You know... I don't think I've seen you around here before, what's your name?"

He looked surprised for a moment, a flicker of panic crossing his face before he quickly schooled his expression into a casual smile.

"Lev, I'm Lev."

"It's weird, I feel like I kn-" Y/N's words were immediately interrupted by a sudden hit of pain, apparently this concussion decided to have a delay, "Ow- ow!" They winced, clutching their head.

Lev immediately took notice of Y/N winced in pain, his concern growing tenfold. "Hey, take it easy. You took a pretty hard hit."

He gently placed a hand on their shoulder, trying to steady them, "Are you okay? Should I go grab ice?"

Y/N bit their lip as they tried to deal with the pain. The world around them started to seem a little too bright and they squeezed their eyes shut.

"Y-yeah, yeah I'm fine-" They murmured, their voice shaking slightly, "Ice would be good."

Lev nodded, quickly standing up his mind racing as he did. What a way to make a first impression, 'Hey Y/N here's a bonk on the head, wanna go out with me?' he was such an idiot! He instinctively went to grab his odachi but paused as he realized it wasn't there.

Right.

Leo had the odachi, he wasn't Leo right now he was Lev.

~

Lev had offered to walk them home during the commotion, he figured it was just a headache from the impact but he wanted to be completely sure they were okay.

As well as take the opportunity to talk with them.

Y/N was steadying their breath, pressing cold bags of store bought ice against their forehead. The pain was slowly numbing while the pair took a seat on the steps outside their apartment block.

Y/N didn't understand why but Lev clicked so easily with them, they were always on the same page.

It was refreshing to actually relate to someone for once.

"And after all that, she decides to throw a surprise test at us! Last time I checked, surprises are supposed to be fun," They huffed angrily, "Ugh, I'm sorry for throwing all this your way."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Sometimes you just need to let it all out, y'know?" Lev offered, a gentle smile across his face, "Besides, I threw a basketball at you, you're just returning the favour."

"Pfft, I didn't think of it like that." They admitted with a chuckle.

A warm smile slowly started to form on their lips, this stranger had made them laugh today even after everything else that had happened.

Who knew that all it took was getting hit in the head with a basketball?

"You know, I'm honestly kind of surprised that you've been this patient." They noted with a light chuckle, "Most people don't like listening to whining."

"Well..." Lev hummed, hesitating a little before he finished his sentence, "I'm not like most people."

Y/N lifted an eyebrow, a curious look spreading across their face, "Oh? And how's that?" They asked, their curiosity piqued, "Are you a vampire or something, stranger?"

"Pssh, first of all vampires are a total scam," He replied with a laugh, "What's the point of being sexy for all eternity without being able to see your reflection?"

Y/N grinned, a laugh escaping as his response, "Sounds like someone talking from experience."

He simply rolled his eyes softly, "And second, stop calling me stranger my name is Lev you know."

"Well, you are technically a stranger."

"Come on, we're at 'basketball bonking' levels of friendship." He retorted with a playful tone.

"Ooh, nice alliteration." They teased smugly in reply.

Lev's expression brightened, smiling hopefully back at them, "Nice enough for me to be a friend?"

Y/N pretended to consider it for a moment, they hummed thoughtfully before finally shrugging and nodding,

"An acquaintance." They answered with a smirk.

"Ahh, there's no winning with you." Lev sighed in mock offence.

"What can I say," They grinned teasingly "I'm hard to please."

A bit of water began to drip down Y/N's face, the ice was melting quickly.

"Doesn't seem like that ice is going to last a while."

Y/N frowned as they noticed some of the cold water trickle down their face. They let out a slight huff, knowing that their source of comfort was quickly melting.

"Yeah, I guess not."

Another drop landed on their nose, and Lev couldn't help but chuckle at the way it made them blink in surprise.

"I should probably head inside."

"Right, you can get some ice that isn't melting." Lev nodded casually in an attempt to hide the wave of disappointment that crossed his face.

He genuinely wanted to talk to them, that was... cute.

"Exactly," They smiled in reply as they stood up from their seat and Lev followed, "Thanks for taking care of me."

"I mean... it was kinda my fault in the first place." He mumbled, the regret evident in his voice.

"Hey stop beating yourself up about that," Y/N scolded in a gentle tone, "I know it was an accident." They assured.

"Besides, I really enjoyed talking with you." They added honestly.

Lev's eyes lit up at that, their confession making a warm smile spread across his face.

"Really?" He asked, trying to bite back the eagerness in his tone, though it seeped through easily.

Y/N chuckled and nodded in reply, "Yeah, I'll see you around right?"

Lev nodded brightly, "I promise no basketballs will be involved next time." He grinned.

"Noted." They said with a small laugh, turning to open the doors to their apartment complex.

They gave him another soft smile, their eyes holding his gaze for a moment.

Lev smiled back at them, a twinge of relief and a hint of flattery on his face as he watched them turn to leave.

A part of them didn't want him to leave, they just wanted to stay and chat for a bit longer.

But another part was reminded of the pain in their head, yeah it was time to go inside.

They gave a small wave to their newly found friend as they entered the building.

"Bye Lev."

"Bye."

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Your mother informs you that your father is missing and a search party is formed. You start to notice Leon's acting strange, too. In the weeks that follow, you start getting sick; it must just be stress, right?

Word Count: 5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Leon walks through the front door, glancing over at the kitchen clock as he walks through; it’s just past three in the morning. He takes a moment to toss the shirt clutched in his left hand into the washing machine. He then makes his way up the stairs, into the master bedroom and stopping in the threshold of the master bathroom, checking to make sure his angel is still asleep. He smirks upon seeing she is out like a light still; the sleeping drug he laced her drink with last night is working wonders. She was asleep by 8 last night.

Satisfied that she’s asleep, he walks into the bathroom, softly closing the door and turning on the light, revealing that from his head to just above his hips, with the exception of one spot on his pants where he had wiped his dominant hand off, he is covered in blood. He stares at himself in the mirror, his crimson eyes dilating at the sight of her father’s blood all over him.

Leon was surprised Mick had put up quite the fight, despite being unarmed; having chased him for a couple hours before finally wearing him down; he certainly had made it fun for Leon. When he had finally gotten him cornered, Leon made sure his death was slow and agonizing, after getting his fill of blood, of course. Fish and Game is going to have a really hard time finding what’s left of Mick.

Leon turns around, turning the shower on and letting it warm up, taking a moment to take off the rest of his clothing before stepping into the shower to clean himself up. After getting all the blood off and ensuring the shower is clean, he steps out, putting on a pair of sweatpants and retracing his steps to ensure he didn’t drip or get blood on anything. Once he’s satisfied that he left no trace of blood behind, he returns to the master bedroom, to his sleeping angel.

Upon entering the bedroom, he stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, admiring her sleeping form. He leans down, gently pulling the comforter off her. She’s lying on her back, wearing a thin white tank top and light pink underwear with lace on the hem, having a small pink bow in the middle. Leon can’t help but think how perfect that is. Beneath that little bow, he can sense that his seed is growing inside her; the larvae having successfully attached itself to the embryo.

Overcome with emotion, Leon gingerly climbs onto her, placing his lips onto her lower stomach and giving tender kisses as his hands rub up and down the sides of her thighs and hips. She stirs in her sleep, letting out a soft groan as she begins to awaken.

“Leon…? Your hair’s wet, did you take a shower?”

Leon lifts his head, giving her a gentle smile, “I did, I couldn’t sleep. Good morning, angel.”

He crawls over her before kissing her deeply, his fingers running through her hair as he slips his tongue into her mouth. She reciprocates without any hesitation, her arms draping around his shoulders to pull him closer. He brings his hand between their bodies, his fingers sliding across the soft fabric of her underwear, finding her clit and rubbing gentle circles into it, eliciting a soft moan from her as they continue to kiss. 

The sound of the phone ringing downstairs instantly ruins the moment, Leon letting out a frustrated sigh as he glances over at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 5:42am. 

“Let me get that, must be important if someone’s calling at this hour,” Leon says as he crawls off his angel. 

He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen, picking up the phone off the receiver, “hello?”

“Leon, it’s Sandi. I’m so sorry for calling this early. Is my daughter around?”

“It’s no trouble at all, no need to apologize,” he says before holding the phone away from his mouth to call out, “angel! It’s your mom!”

“I’m coming!” he hears her reply.

He listens intently at the soft sounds of her bare feet coming down the stairs. She comes into the kitchen, taking the phone from Leon.

“Hey Mom, what’s going on?” she asks.

Leon doesn’t need to hear what Sandi is saying to her, he knows exactly what she’s calling about. He watches as her face slowly transforms, filled with worry.

“No, neither of us have heard from Dad, why?”

Another pause, the worry on her face is then consumed by complete distress.

“What do you mean Dad’s missing?! Have you reported this to the police yet?”

It takes everything in Leon to not smile as an overwhelming sense of dominance and pride fills him, his eyes locked on his angel as she continues to talk on the phone.

“Alright, please keep us posted. If you need us, we’ll be there in a heartbeat. Take care Mom.”

She puts the phone on the receiver, letting out a heavy sigh.

“What was that all about, everything ok?” Leon asks, feigning concern. 

She looks at him, “Mom woke up this morning and Dad wasn’t in bed. She thought maybe he had just fallen asleep in the recliner but when she went down to check, the TV was on but he was nowhere to be found.”

“Where the hell could he have gone?” Leon asks, shaking his head.

“That’s the weird part, I have no idea, unless…” he watches as she consumes herself in thought for a moment before continuing, “oh god… you don’t think he tried to go after the B.O.W. himself, do you?”

To be honest, Leon is impressed that she came to that conclusion, but knowing how much her father wanted to get Leon out of the picture, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, her intellect just confirms to him that he picked the perfect mate, the perfect mother to his offspring. 

Leon furrows his brows, rubbing them with his fingers before replying, “shit…”

She grabs the phone again, dialing her parents’ house.

“Mom it’s me, have you called the police to report Dad missing yet? I… I think I know where he went…”

You, your mother and Leon sit at your parents’ dining room in complete silence. Upon your arrival there, Chief Bob and several members of New Hampshire Fish and Game were there with your mother; you had let them know to search the woods behind the fairgrounds, suspecting that your father had gone out to take care of the B.O.W. himself. Or rather, as you told the officers, ‘the animal.’

What impresses you is how calm Leon is. There’s almost a strange aura of serenity surrounding him and it’s clearly having an effect on both you and your mother. 

“Of course Mick would do something so stupid,” your mother says, breaking the silence as she stands up from the table, going over to the kitchen sink to do up the dishes from the impromptu breakfast she had made the three of you. 

Leon then abruptly gets up, following your mother over to the sink, “Sandi, let me do these for you. You have enough to worry about right now.”

You watch as Leon gently moves your mother away from the sink, gesturing her to sit back down at the table, clearly not taking no for an answer. Your mother simply nods, sitting back down next to you as Leon begins washing the dishes.

“What was Mick hoping to accomplish, going out on his own like that?” Sandi asks as she sits back down next to you at the table, “he’s heard about what this animal has done to people!”

“I have no idea…” you lie.

But you do have an idea. Knowing your father, he wanted Leon out of the picture in any possible way he could get him out. No B.O.W.? No Leon. Mick’s dilemma was solved in his mind. A sudden knock at the door rips you from your thoughts and you watch as your mother immediately gets up to answer the door. You get up and follow her.

On the other side is Chief Bob and judging by the look on his face, he isn’t the bearer of good news; he clears his throat before he speaks, “we found… evidence of a struggle and this.”

Chief Bob lifts his clenched hand, opening it to reveal a ring caked in blood. You could recognize that plain titanium wedding band anywhere; it is your father’s.

“Sandi I’m so sorry… it’s likely that your husband is dead.”

The wailing sound your mother then begins to make is almost inhuman. She takes the ring from Chief Bob’s palm, clutching it in her own hands and falling to her knees. You feel tears form in your own eyes as well. Yeah, your father was a pain in the ass, yeah he was hard on you, but it was never from a place of malice. He always wanted what was best for you, being his only child.

You get on your knees, wrapping your arms around your mother in an attempt to comfort her. It’s then that the reality of your father being gone sinks in and you join your mother in sobbing. You look up to Leon, who’s still standing at the kitchen sink. You open your mouth to speak but you cut yourself short when you see Leon was looking at you, adverting his gaze away and back to the dishes. That in itself was strange, however what you had seen on his face unsettles you.

He had been smiling. 

In the weeks that follow after your father’s death, you do everything in your power to distract yourself; not only of the fact that your father is gone but of Leon’s strange behavior that day. You try to brush it off as maybe his nerves getting the better of him, after all, everyone deals with grief and traumatic events differently. But the more you try not to think about it, the more you realize that each time another body had turned up, Leon was always weirdly calm.

Was your father right about him? Is he somehow involved?

“Don’t be stupid,” you say to yourself quietly as you climb out of bed to go into the bathroom, “he’s a government agent, he’s probably trained to be calm…”

You can hear Leon working in the living room downstairs as you go into the bathroom. A sudden wave of nausea had come over you, as it had the past few mornings. You close the bathroom door and barely make it to the sink when you retch up the contents of your stomach; granted it hadn’t been much. Your arms tremble as you prop yourself over the bathroom sink; at this point you’re dry heaving, your stomach in literal knots. After a few minutes, the nausea passes. You try to wrap your head around what has been making you sick the last few mornings, not recalling eating something that would make you this violently ill. One thought suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks: pregnancy.

It’s been a few weeks since that night when you came home from the Harvest Festival; when Leon had fucked you in this very spot and came in you. Your blood runs cold at the realization. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you go back into the bedroom and get dressed. You decide to go to the store, buy some pregnancy tests just to be sure. It could be something totally unrelated; how often do people get pregnant after having unprotected sex just once, right? You recall your parent’s had struggled to have you. 

Once dressed, you head downstairs, smiling at Leon as you walk past him working, “Leon I’m going to head to the store real quick, I’ll be back.”

Leon stops what he’s working on, turning to you, “Oh? I’ll go with you,” he says as he puts down his tools.

You feel the color leave your face as you internally panic, “No Leon it’s fine! I don’t want to distract you from your work. I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

Leon’s eyes are locked on you as you figure he’s contemplating letting you go alone or not. You internally let out a sigh of relief when he picks his tools back up to continue working.

“Alright, but come right back, ok?” he says, focusing his attention back to what he was working on.

“I will,” you say, not wasting time walking into the kitchen to grab your purse and your jacket. 

You go outside, the chill November air going straight to your bones despite having a jacket on. You climb into your car, turning the ignition. As soon as the car revs to life, you drive off.

You decide to go to the grocery store in Plymouth, not wanting to risk bumping into anyone you knew while buying pregnancy tests. Plus, it felt good to go for a ride alone; a chance to go through your thoughts and feelings. 

Why hadn’t you made him pull out that night? Why had you been so completely lost in the moment? The words he growled into your ear that night were very much etched in your mind. Even so, would he even want a baby with you? Do you even want a baby?

You shake your head, doing your best to convince yourself you’re not pregnant and the sickness was just from all the stress; that the pregnancy tests were just a precaution, something to ease your mind. You pull your car into the grocery store, heading in and picking up some snacks so that you weren’t just buying the tests. 

You go into the feminine hygiene aisle, locating the pregnancy tests. There were several brands, so you decide to pick a couple different ones, putting them into your cart and going to the check out to purchase everything. You feel like everyone’s eyes are on you as you go up to the cash register, even the cashier seems to give you a weird look as they ring up the pregnancy tests. You do your best not to make eye contact as you pay for your things and leave.

You drive back to Leon’s house, making sure the tests were buried beneath the snacks in the grocery bags as you walk inside.

“Leon I’m back!” you call out as you walk into the living room to go up the stairs.

You watch as Leon again stops what he’s doing, smiling over at you as you ascend the stairs, “welcome back, angel. Did you buy anything good?”

You swallow hard, stopping mid-way up the stairs and turn to him, “I got us some snacks, want some?”

“Sure!” Leon replies with a smile.

You pull out a bag of Doritos, tossing them gently to him, watching as he catches the bag with ease, “there you are, don’t eat the whole thing.”

Leon chuckles and gives you a playful wink before returning his focus to his work. You let out a sigh of relief, going back up the stairs to go into the bathroom. Upon entering, you quickly close the bathroom door and lock it, setting the grocery bag onto the bathroom counter, fishing the pregnancy tests out. 

The actual tests proved to be more complicated than you ever imagined, requiring you to somehow get it so that you pee on them; easier said than done. After a few minutes of struggling, you manage to use all the tests you got, setting them face down onto the bathroom counter to process. You clean yourself up and sit on the toilet seat to anxiously wait.

After what seems like an eternity, you reluctantly stand up and walk over to the bathroom counter, you flip each test over, one by one. Each of them has the same result: Positive.

In that moment, every single swear word runs through your mind. Your eyes widen and your heart races. What if Leon gets mad? Are you even ready to raise a child? What will your mother think? What will the town think? Getting pregnant out of wedlock isn’t as uncommon as it used to be, but Oakvale is still a fairly religious community; you fear the worst.

You gather up the tests in your hand, opening the bathroom door to go back downstairs. When you reach the bottom, you simply stop and watch Leon work, your hand holding the tests trembling as you try to think of what to say to him. 

As if sensing your presence, Leon once again stops, turning to you and seeing your pained expression, “angel, what’s wrong?”

“I…” you begin, a sob catching your voice as fear completely envelopes you, “I think I’m pregnant…”

You watch Leon’s mouth hang open for a second before a smile consumes it, “really?!”

Much to your surprise, Leon drops everything, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you, his face burying itself in your hair and placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. He steps back, seeing the tests clutched in your hand. He takes them from you, looking at each, seeing how all of them say positive for pregnancy. 

“You’re… not mad?” you ask, your voice still trembling.

“Why on Earth would I be mad?”

You shake your head, relief flooding over you now that you know Leon seems to be thrilled with the news.

“We can turn the spare bedroom into a nursery! Wait until we tell your Mom, she’s going to be so happy to have some good news for a change!”

“Th…Thanksgiving is in a few days, we should tell her then!” you say, your worry being replaced by enthusiasm.

You feel so much better now knowing that Leon’s not angry and clearly wants a family with you. The morning of Thanksgiving arrives and you and Leon are working on a green bean casserole to bring over to your mother’s house. Once that’s made up, you and Leon get it packed up in his Jeep and waste no time driving to your parents’ house.

Once there, your mother greets you enthusiastically, you can hear some of your extended family members already inside. You place the warm casserole by the other dishes before taking a seat at the dining table. Leon wastes no time getting to know your family, seated at the table is your uncle Dennis, who’s married to your Mom’s sister Donna, who’s helping your Mom with the turkey in the kitchen and your other aunt and uncle on your Dad’s side: Joel and his wife Marlene with their two young kids Adam and Mary-Ann, who are seated at a ‘kids table’ off to the side of the dining room. 

Leon didn’t tell your family much about himself, giving them the same retired government agent story he had told you and your parents when you first met him. You remain quiet, becoming a bundle of nerves as the day wears on, scared of how your family is going to react to your pregnancy. Your Mom and your aunt coming in with the turkey snaps you out of your nervous thoughts and you take the opportunity to stand up and help them bring all the other food into the dining room.

You watch as Marlene helps her two children get their food, which isn't much because they are ridiculously picky. You on the other hand take a little bit of almost everything, especially the green bean casserole since that’s your favorite. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon doesn’t take that much either; mostly the dark meat of the turkey, potatoes and some stuffing. 

Once everyone has their food, everyone at the ‘adults’ table engages in mindless small talk, meanwhile your focus is on eating and making sure you don’t throw up from your nerves. After a while, you hear Leon clear his throat to get everyone’s attention, putting a huge pit into your stomach.

“So… we have something really exciting to tell everyone,” Leon begins, placing his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it in small circles; he looks over to you, giving you a soft smile, “do you want to tell them the good news?”

You take a deep breath before giving him a slight nod; when you speak, your voice is just above a whisper, “I’m… um… we’re…”

At this point, everyone is staring at you. You feel yourself freeze up, your mind racing and your heart pounding.

“It’s alright, I’m right here,” you hear Leon encourage as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Sorry…” you say, swallowing hard, “we’re expecting…”

You watch your aunt Donna blink a few times before widening her eyes, “I’m sorry… you’re what?”

“I’m… I’m pregnant.” you finally say, cutting to the chase. 

Your uncle Dennis practically spits out the beer he had been sipping on and your uncle Joel nearly chokes on the food he was eating. Your mother simply stares at you, seemingly dumbfounded. You immediately feel embarrassed.

“Was this… intentional?” your aunt Marlene asks, the concern evident in her voice.

“Well, no--”

“Yes. We love each other so much, so we’re very eager to start a family together, isn’t that right angel?” Leon says, cutting you off as he looks over to you, smiling and rubbing your back.

You look at him for a second, raising an eyebrow. The realization that his every intention that night after coming home from the festival was to get you pregnant sends chills through your entire body. You didn’t know how to feel about that at all. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, you nod, addressing your family, “yes, it just felt right to start a family together. With all the sadness lately, we thought bringing a new life into the world would raise our family’s spirits.”

Your Mom then smiles, a single tear running down her cheek, “honey that’s wonderful news. When are you due?”

“We figured out it's around the end of July, give or take," Leon replies, a proud smirk spreading across his lips.

The mood in the room immediately shifts, your family now seemingly excited for you and Leon. Everyone is throwing out name suggestions, making bets on whether it’ll be a boy or a girl. All the while, you can’t seem to shake the uneasiness growing inside you. You unconsciously place a hand on your lower stomach. After a moment, you flinch your hand away, surprise overwhelming you.

You felt it move, that’s not possible, right?

The weeks that follow feel like a blur. When Christmas comes around, you and Leon are overwhelmed with gifts for the baby: clothes, toys and even furniture for the nursery. With each day, your pregnancy is beginning to show more and more, so much so that you had to go out and buy new clothes. Sleeping is also becoming a challenge, as you can’t seem to find a comfortable position with your swollen belly.

It’s New Year’s Eve and you are awoken to Leon touching, kissing and talking to your belly. It’s his daily ritual now. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you smile when you see Leon kissing and rubbing your belly. You would even say that Leon is more excited about this baby than you are, not that you’re not, of course. The baby always seems to react to him, becoming especially mobile in your belly when he talks to it, but you knew that had to be a coincidence. He notices you awake, propping himself on top of you and crawling up to you, kissing you deeply.

“How’s my favorite Momma doing?” he asks before kissing along your jawline.

“Very tired,” you admit, shifting yourself so that you’re sitting up in bed, “this big belly makes it hard to get comfortable.”

Leon sits down on the bed next to you, his concern written on his face as he caresses your belly with the back of his fingers, “I know. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. Our little one is growing like a weed.”

“I wasn’t expecting my belly to get this big so soon, everyone in town thinks we’re having twins,” you reply with a laugh as you rub your belly.

Leon lets out a chuckle, “we’re definitely not. Just one very healthy baby.”

Leon’s hand moves from your belly, across your thigh and settling between your legs, his fingers caressing your clit through your underwear. A soft gasp escapes you, your legs unconsciously spreading open as you lean your head back against the headboard of the bed.

“That’s it, angel, make yourself comfortable. I’ll take care of you,” Leon coos as his fingers push your underwear aside, his middle and ring fingers slipping into your leaking hole with ease as his thumb continues to rub your throbbing clit. 

His fingers caress your g-spot just right every time, causing you to arch your back and let out soft moans as you close your eyes, enjoying the moment. You feel his hand gently grasp one of your breasts, wincing a moment as they had become extremely sensitive since you had fallen pregnant. With each thrust of his fingers you are brought closer to your release, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in the bed as your legs begin to tremble.

Then, Leon pushes his fingers as deep inside you as he possibly can, causing you to cry out as you come all over his fingers. Leon rests his head on your shoulder as he gently massages your breast, pulling his fingers out but still rubbing gentle circles into your clit. 

“Such a good Momma you are,” he praises, kissing the crook of your neck as he starts to pull down his sweatpants.

A loud banging on the front door interrupts him; he lets out an audible growl in annoyance. He waits a moment, hoping the person would go away, but the banging resumes, making the whole house shake.

“Better see who that is,” Leon says, his tone flat as he climbs out of the bed. 

As Leon makes his way downstairs, you decide to get up and throw some clothes on yourself, grabbing a pair of maternity jeans and one of Leon’s t-shirts to put on. 

“What the fuck?!” you hear Leon shout, followed by what sounds like a struggle.

“Leon!” you call out, rushing yourself down the stairs to the front door.

What greets you outside is like something out of a movie. Several armored trucks are in the driveway, men with guns and full tactical gear surround the house. One of the men has Leon pinned onto the ground, seemingly injecting some kind of liquid into his neck.

“What are you doing to him?!” you cry out, bursting out the front door to come to Leon’s aid, “stop it!”

As soon as you’re outside, two men grab each of your arms, holding you back. Looking around, you also see that there are large light panels on the armored trucks, emitting a strange, purple light, piercing the darkness of the early morning.

“Ma’am you need to come with us, it’s not safe here,” one of the men commands.

“What on Earth are you talking about?! Let me go!” you protest, desperately trying to pull yourself away from the men's grasp.

“We’re gonna have to tranq her,” you hear the other man say.

“Let me go! I’m fucking pregnan--!”

You feel something pierce your neck and in that next moment, the whole world is spinning, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you lose consciousness.

You awake to the most massive headache you have ever experienced in your life, your eyes open and promptly closing when you find you’re laying in a bed in a completely white room with bright, blinding lights. You slowly sit up, rubbing your neck where you had gotten injected with the tranquilizer; it’s very sore and tender there. You look around at your surroundings. The walls are covered in a white padding, much like you’d find at a mental hospital with what you assume is a locked door on the other side. After a few minutes, a man with a white lab coat comes into the room, stating your name with a questioning inflection in his voice.

“Yeah…” you reply, your voice still groggy from having been drugged, “that’s me.”

“Come with me, the director would like to see you.”

The man helps you stand up, holding you gently by the arm as he leads you out of the room. Going down a hallway, he then turns and brings you into another room, this one has the same white walls, but this time there is a table with two chairs on either side. The man sits you down in the chair farthest from the door.

“The director will be with you shortly,” the man says before leaving the room, the door audibly locking upon his exit.

You wrap your arms around yourself, pinching your arm to make sure you’re not dreaming. Your thoughts are immediately on Leon, wondering where he is and hoping that he’s ok. You then focus your attention on your belly, rubbing it softly, hoping the tranquilizer didn’t hurt your baby. The sound of the door unlocking breaks you out of your thoughts and you look up to the door and watch a different man wearing a dark green jacket with salt and pepper dark hair walk in. He reminds you of the character Columbo, the bumbling detective from a murder mystery show that your mother enjoyed watching when you were growing up.

The man walks up to the opposite chair, pulling it out before taking a seat, “my name is Clive R. O’Brian and I imagine you have a lot of questions for me.”

Part 7

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 2

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lil bit of angst with a sprinkle of fluff and not edited im sorry lol word count: 2.1k authors note: *screams internally* thank you guys so much for the love on this story so far. I was super hesitant to post it at first but I am glad you guys like it! I'm posting this a little early but updates will be every sunday from now on. This chapter is kinda sad but happy times are on the way <3 thanks for the feedback, and if you like part 2, let me know!

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Sitting across from Mat for the first time in almost eight years, doesn’t go exactly as planned. He’s waiting for you even though you arrive fifteen minutes before the agreed time, hoping to rid yourself of the anxiety you are feeling which means he’s been here even longer. So you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans and stride over to where he’s waiting and sit on the chair across from him. He’s staring at his phone so his head jerks up when he hears you.

The first words that come out of his mouth are: “are you sure she’s mine?”

Which, okay, that’s a fair question because you did tell everybody and their grandmother who asked that Mat was not the one who knocked you up. Of course, nobody actually believed you but there were a few people from your high school that believed it. Most girls who had always had a crush on Mat, would say that you cheated on him and obviously Nora couldn’t be his child because for some reason, they never actually accepted that you and Mat were a couple. 

So yeah, his question is fair and you did know he would ask. 

“Yeah, we can do a paternity test if you don’t believe me,” you say quietly. It’s not something you necessarily want to do, because then you’d have to come up with some reason to tell Nora why she needs to go get her cheek swabbed or blood tested. She’s as stubborn as Mat, and you would probably have to hold her down to get whatever the doctors needed unless she agreed. 

“No, I believe you.” 

His words take a huge weight off your shoulders but also replace it with a new one. You know Mat, he’s the kindest soul and has the biggest heart and he’s going to want to at least properly meet Nora and might ask to be in her life. In the first few years of her life, there wouldn’t have been anything you wanted more in the world. However, you’ve grown now and so has she. Your number one priority has to be what is best for Nora, and turning her life upside by introducing her to Mat is scary. For both you and her. 

And Mat? Despite what he might think, he’s nowhere near prepared to jump into being her dad.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. 

“Sure,” you say even though you know what he’s going to ask. It’s a question you’re nowhere near ready to answer but you have no choice now.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

He doesn’t sound as angry as you were expecting, maybe thanks to his dad talking to him but there’s underlying hurt. You try to put yourself in his shoes, trying to think if there was anything in the world that would have stopped you from wanting Nora. You know for a fact that if Mat knew, he would have been in her life somehow but you’re not sure if he would have given up the NHL to do it, and that’s exactly why you didn’t tell him.

“I didn’t want to hold you back,” you say softly, watching his facial expression change. He just looked confused before but now he looks sad almost. His eyes close for a moment and when he opens them, you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. 

“I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I did! I do,” you argue. “If you knew about her, it would have kept you away from everything you worked hard for. Your dream was the NHL, Mat. If I told you about her, it would’ve crushed that dream. We didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Who’s we? You and my parents? You shouldn’t have made that choice for me, it wasn’t right.”

“This is a child we’re talking about Mat. Were you really ready at eighteen to drop everything and raise one?” 

“Were you?”

“No,” you say truthfully. “But I didn’t have a jersey with my name on the back waiting for me.”

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment, it’s silent between the two of you with background chatter from the cafe. You’re sure that he’s just going to get up and storm out but he takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, knotting his fingers together.

“I wish you’d told me,” he mumbles before looking up at you. “I would’ve stayed.”

“I know,” you whisper but you can’t meet his gaze.

. . .

You’re picking Nora up from her day camp a couple of days later when you get a message from Mat asking if he can meet up with you. There’s been no contact since the two of you last met, having left with a short goodbye to pick up Nora. He hadn’t asked to see her and you hadn’t offered so you thought maybe he would leave it but you should’ve known better.

You fire off a sure, see you in twenty, and debate on whether to bring Nora with you or drop her off with your mom. Mat might not even want to see her, but if he’s reaching out to you again it’s probably about her. 

“Wanna go meet my friend?” you ask, looking back at her to gauge her reaction. She might just want to go home after all day at camp, but she perks up immediately when you ask.

“The one from the grocery store?” she squeals but narrows her eyes and gives you a suspicious look. “Hey, I thought you said he was a stranger.”

Shoot.

“Well, he was to you,” you try to explain. “I knew him when I was younger.”

“As young as me?”

“As young as you,” you tell her and she grins, nodding her head and shouting an excited yes, so you pull out of the parking-lot and start towards Mat’s parents house. You’re a little nervous to be around his family after dancing around them for so long after Nora was born. Meeting up with Liana wasn’t as hard as you were expecting, but you’re not so sure about his parents. Aside from the occasional awkward greeting, you haven’t properly spoken to them since before Nora and you’re starting to think maybe bringing her will just make things worse but before you can change your mind, you’re parking your car in the driveway. 

He’s sitting outside on the porch swing when you step out, and his eyes widen in surprise when Nora climbs out of the car. He definitely wasn’t expecting you to bring her but this could be a good test. If he decides he wants to be part of her life, having all their interactions scheduled wouldn’t be a good start so you decide to just jump in the deep end.

“Hey,” you call out before grabbing Nora’s hand and making your way towards him. He’s already making his way down the pathway and meets you about half way, pulling you into a surprising hug before crouching down to Nora’s level.

“Hey Nora,” he says, smiling gently and offering her his hand to shake just like last time. “Do you remember me?”

She bobs her head once, accepting his hand but tries to hide her face in your leg. Of course now, she’s practicing Stranger Danger, instead of blurting out her full name. 

“Mom made dinner, if you guys are hungry?” 

Family dinner is just about the last thing you want to do but Nora perks up at the idea of food so you agree, following Mat into the all too familiar home you spent so much time in as a kid. Not much has changed, you realize as you look around the foyer. It feels a bit like coming home but you’re not sure if you were missed. 

“Smells good,” you say, trying to make conversation and Mat smiles awkwardly. 

“Yeah, mom is making your favorite.” 

How she can remember your favorite meal is beyond you, but you’re not about to miss a peace offering and this is certainly one.

“My favorite food is spaghetti,” Nora informs him and you watch Mat nod seriously, taking in anything she says. You try not to look too deep into it because even though he knows she’s biologically his, Nora is still just a cute kid talking a mile a minute about anything and Mat has probably been trained on how to handle excited children. 

When the three of you make your way to the living room, with Nora still chatting excitedly, you stop short when you see a picture frame on the wall. 

It’s you. Well, it’s you and Mat at graduation. Arms wrapped around each other and Mat kissing your forehead. If you look close enough, you can see past your smile and see the sadness in your eyes. This was before you were pregnant but you were already grieving the loss of Mat. He left for hockey shortly after and your only reminder was the brown haired little girl still talking to Mat. 

“Is that you, mama?” Nora asks suddenly, standing on the tips of her toes so she can get a better view. Her nose scrunches up and she looks at the photo, then Mat, and then the photo again.

“Oh,” she says and you sigh. 

“Let’s go see Mat’s parents.”

Nadia and Mike are waiting in the kitchen, trying to make it seem like they weren’t listening in on the conversation. Liana is sitting at the table, reading a book casually but you know she was probably listening too.

“This is Mike, Nadia, and Liana,” you tell Nora who lights up at Nadia’s name.

“My middle name is Nadia!” She squeals and you stare at the floor, not wanting to meet any of their eyes. Someone - probably Nadia - inhales sharply and then lets out what sounds like a sob. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Liana says and you look up to see her looking at Nora with a soft smile on her face. Mike has an arm wrapped around Nadia who’s trying, and failing, to hide tears. You’re glad Liana is trying to distract Nora because you’re about two seconds away from crying and Mat must be able to tell because you feel his hand lightly touch your back. His hand lingers for a moment until you take a deep breath and blow it out steadily. 

Then his hand is gone and you feel the loss right away.

“Hey, we have a swing outside in the backyard,” Mat tells Nora. “Wanna go check it out while dinner finishes cooking?” 

He looks at you for permission so you nod, smiling at Nora when he takes her hand and leads her outside. Liana follows shortly after and then it’s just you, Nadia and Mike. Both their eyes are red rimmed and Nadia only hesitates for a moment before striding over and pulling you into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, my girl,” she whispers and all you can manage is a nod because you’ll probably cry now if you try to talk. The two of you just stand there for a couple minutes until Mike chuckles. You pull away, wiping your eyes to see him standing in front of the patio door so you make your way over to see what he’s looking at and almost start crying again. 

Mat and Nora are playing what looks like a game of tag, Liana laughing at them while trying to film. It’s exactly the kind of thing you had sometimes allowed yourself to imagine.

“Would you look at that,” Mike says softly. 

“He’s a natural,” Nadia agrees. “Always was.”

Then she turns to you with a small smile on her face. “I know the struggles of being a mom. You have to do what’s best for your kids…” she hesitates, gazing outside before looking back at you. “He wants to try, if you’ll give him the chance. We’d all love to get to know Nora.”

You would love nothing more than to have Mat’s family in Nora’s life. For her to get to know her other grandparents but you can’t help but be scared of what could happen if you let Mat into her life. She could get attached only to have him ripped away when he has to go back to New York but you can’t have Nora in Nadia, Mike, and Liana’s life and not Mat’s. 

But maybe you owe it to Mat, to give him a chance at having a place in her life after not telling him about her all this time. You were doing what you thought was right - what was right - but if Mat really wants to be part of her life, maybe it’s time. 

You look outside and see Nora on Mat’s shoulders with Liana chasing them, before looking back at the woman in front of you and smiling softly.

“I think Nora would love that.”

tag list: @dasiysthings

[kckt88]

A Dragon's Heart IV

Summary:

Viserra gives birth, the family stick together when an old threat tries to stir up trouble and the day finally arrives when two loves can be together properly.

Warning(s): Angst, Swearing, Child Birth, Mild Violence, Drama, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, Lactation Kink, Oral Sex, (M Recieving), Anal Fingering, Aegon Being A Drunken Idiot.

AEMOND x O.C

Word Count: 7250

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Aemond paced relentlessly up and down the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest with every scream that echoed from the chamber where Viserra was giving birth.

Each cry of pain felt like a dagger in his heart, and he cringed, feeling utterly helpless.

"Stop your pacing, lad," Daemon's voice cut through the tension, firm but not unkind. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression as unreadable as ever.

Aegon, who was sitting nearby with a faintly green tinge to his face, nodded in agreement. "It’s making me sick just watching you."

Aemond barely heard them. His entire being was focused on the sounds coming from the room.

But then, amidst the cries, he heard something that made him freeze in place—Viserra was screaming for him.

"AEMOND"

The door to the chamber opened suddenly, and Helaena’s head popped out. Her usually serene face was filled with urgency. "Aemond-" she said. "-She's calling for you."

Before Aemond could react, both Daemon and Aegon placed a firm hand on his back, pushing him towards the open door.

Helaena stepped aside to let him pass, her eyes soft with understanding.

Aemond took a deep breath and entered the room, the door closing softly behind him. The sight that greeted him nearly took the breath from his lungs.

Viserra lay on the bed, her face pale and glistening with sweat, her silver hair matted against her forehead.

She looked exhausted and in pain, but even in this state, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Without hesitation, he rushed to her side and took her hand. She clung to him desperately, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It hurts," whimpered Viserra, her voice strained.

Aemond swallowed hard, his own eyes stinging. "You're doing so well, Viserra," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"Don't leave me," she begged, her grip on his hand tightening with another contraction.

"I won't-I promise" Aemond promised, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

He wished he could take her pain away, wished he could do something, anything, to help her. But all he could do was be there, hold her, and pray that this would end soon.

Rhaenyra, who was standing on the other side of the bed, dabbed Viserra’s forehead with a cool cloth.

She gave Aemond a reassuring nod, though her eyes were filled with concern for her daughter. "You're almost there, Viserra," she encouraged gently. "Just a little more."

Maester Gerardys, who was positioned at the foot of the bed, glanced up from his work and nodded in agreement. "It’s time to push, Princess."

Viserra groaned in response, the pain almost overwhelming. Aemond could feel every ounce of her strength as she squeezed his hand so hard that it felt like his bones might break, but he didn’t care. He would endure anything to be here for her.

Helaena stood beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder, a comforting presence amidst the chaos.

Aemond grimaced in pain as Viserra’s grip tightened, but he stayed silent, focusing all his energy on being her anchor.

"Keep going, you’re so close," Rhaenyra urged, her voice calm and steady.

"The head is out," Gerardys announced, a note of relief in his voice. "Just one more push"

Viserra gritted her teeth and gave one final, mighty push, using every ounce of strength she had left. The room fell silent for a heartbeat, and then the sound of a baby’s cry filled the air.

Aemond felt tears spill from his eye as he heard that tiny, precious sound.

His whole body trembled as Maester Gerardys carefully lifted the newborn and declared, "A healthy boy”

Viserra reached out with trembling arms, and the babe was swiftly wrapped in a soft cloth and placed on her chest.

She looked down at her son, her expression one of pure, unfiltered love. Aemond could hardly breathe as he gazed at them, his heart overflowing with a profound emotion he had never experienced before.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to Viserra’s temple, then to the baby’s soft head. "You did it," he whispered, his voice choked with tears.

Viserra looked up at him, her eyes shining despite her exhaustion. "We did it," she corrected softly.

Aemond could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak. He reached out, gently touching the tiny hand of his son, who grasped his finger with surprising strength.

As Viserra lay cradling their newborn son, a sudden, sharp pain shot through her, causing her to wince and gasp.

Aemond, who had been utterly entranced by the sight of their child, immediately snapped to attention, his heart seizing in his chest.

"W-What's wrong?" Aemond asked, panic creeping into his voice as he leaned over her.

Maester Gerardys, who had been preparing to clean up, paused mid-action and quickly moved back to Viserra's side.

He pressed his hands gently on her abdomen, his expression growing serious. "There is another babe," he announced, his tone a mixture of surprise and urgency.

Rhaenyra swiftly stepped in and took the baby boy into her arms, moving towards the end of the bed, her face showing a flicker of concern.

Helaena moved to Viserra's other side, taking hold of her free hand, her touch warm and reassuring.

Viserra's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head, her voice trembling. "I can't-I can't do it again."

Aemond bent down, his forehead touching hers, his voice filled with a fierce determination. "Yes, you can," he whispered urgently. "You are blood of the dragon, and you are the rider of Vermithor. You can do this."

But the pain was overwhelming, and Viserra's resolve wavered. She let out a desperate scream, her face contorted in agony.

"I'm going to cut your cock off, I swear!" she yelled at Aemond through gritted teeth.

Despite the situation, Aemond couldn't help but feel a pang of amusement beneath the waves of worry. He squeezed her hand tightly, his voice steady. "Just one more, my love. Push."

Viserra summoned every last ounce of strength she had, digging deep within herself.

With a final, agonizing scream, she bore down and pushed, her entire body trembling with the effort.

The second baby emerged, but the room fell eerily silent. Aemond's heart sank as he exchanged a terrified look with Rhaenyra, who still held their newborn son close.

The fear in her eyes mirrored his own.

Viserra's exhaustion turned to panic as the seconds ticked by, the silence unbearable. "What's happening? Why can't I hear the babe crying?" she cried out, her voice rising in hysteria.

Aemond tried to soothe her, though his own fear was clawing at him. "Gerardys is doing all he can. Please, just stay calm," he urged, though his words did little to ease her growing distress.

Viserra's panic surged, and she began to struggle, desperate to reach her child. Aemond and Helaena had to hold her down to keep her from getting up.

She wailed and sobbed, her cries echoing through the chamber as the moments stretched into an eternity.

Then, at last, a loud, piercing cry broke through the tension, filling the room with a sound that brought immediate relief.

A collective sigh echoed from everyone present as Gerardys looked up, his face relaxing into a smile. "The babe is a girl," he announced.

Viserra let out a shaky breath, her eyes wide with desperation as she extended her arms. Gerardys swiftly wrapped the tiny, fragile girl in a soft cloth and passed her to Viserra, who all but snatched her daughter from his arms.

The baby was so small, even more so than her brother.

Aemond, kneeling beside Viserra, noticed the unusual patterns on their daughter's upper arm and over the back of her shoulder.

The marks were faint, but unmistakably there, a shimmering pattern of muted green and bronze that looked like dragon scales.

Viserra’s eyes, still wet with tears, searched Aemond’s. "Will she be okay?" she whispered, her voice tinged with concern as she gazed at the scales.

Gerardys, who had noticed the markings as well, offered a reassuring nod. "We will need to conduct further examinations, but for now, there doesn't appear to be any immediate cause for concern."

Viserra, her heart swelling with love and relief, smiled down at her daughter. "She is our beautiful little dragon," she declared softly, her voice full of pride.

Aemond looked at his newborn daughter and nodded in agreement, his eye filled with wonder. The girl’s amethyst eyes, so strikingly like her mother's, and her silver hair, she was perfect in every way.

Rhaenyra, still holding the baby boy, carefully placed him into Aemond’s arms. "Here," she said gently, stepping back with a soft smile as she moved to the foot of the bed alongside Helaena, giving Aemond and Viserra a moment alone with their twins.

As Rhaenyra stood at the foot of the bed, she smiled warmly at the sight of Aemond and Viserra with their newborn twins.

The room, once filled with tension and fear, now overflowed with joy and love.

“What shall the twins be called?” Rhaenyra asked softly, her voice gentle.

Viserra, still holding their tiny daughter close, glanced up at Aemond, her eyes shining with love and trust. She nodded, once again giving him the honour of naming their son.

Aemond gazed down at the baby boy in his arms, the child’s delicate features a mix of both his parents.

He thought for a moment, feeling the weight and importance of the decision, before a name came to him.

“Aerys” Aemond finally said, his voice steady and certain.

Rhaenyra smiled approvingly at the choice, and then her gaze shifted to the little girl nestled against Viserra.

“And your daughter?” she asked, her curiosity evident as she looked at Viserra.

Aemond turned his attention to Viserra, who had been gently stroking the soft silver hair on their daughter’s head. “You should name her,” Aemond said, his voice full of tenderness.

Viserra looked down at their daughter, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and affection, she looked up at Aemond, her smile widening as she spoke. “Aerea-in honour of our ancestor”

Aemond smiled and he leaned over to press a kiss to Viserra’s forehead.

“Aerys and Aerea-” he repeated, the names rolling off his tongue with a sense of rightness. “Our beautiful little dragons.”

A soft knock echoed through the chamber door, followed by Aegon’s familiar voice, slightly muffled but full of impatience. “Can we come in yet? We’re dying out here.”

Aemond chuckled, the tension of the moment lightened by his brother’s usual irreverence. “Yes, come in,” he called out, still seated beside Viserra.

The door creaked open, and Aegon was the first to stride in, his face lighting up with joy as he took in the scene.

Daemon followed closely behind, his sharp eyes softening when he saw Viserra, while Alicent entered last, carrying Rhaegar who clung tightly to her, his thumb in his mouth.

“Twins!” Aegon exclaimed, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Congratulations, brother” He gave Aemond a hearty clap on the back, his eyes twinkling with pride and humour.

Daemon moved to Viserra’s side, his expression filled with a rare tenderness as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Are you ok tala?” he asked quietly, his voice just for her (Daughter).

Viserra nodded, her smile reassuring. “I am,” she replied softly, her voice laced with exhaustion.

Rhaenyra, who had been standing back to give them a moment, stepped forward with a radiant smile.

“I’m incredibly proud of you, Viserra,” she said warmly. “Soon the bells will ring out across Kings Landing to announce the safe arrival of two new royal babes.”

Alicent gently placed Rhaegar at the edge of the bed, her touch tender as she whispered something soothing to him.

But the little boy hesitated, his thumb still in his mouth, his wide eyes brimming with tears as he clung to his grandmother’s skirts.

Viserra noticed immediately, concern flashing across her face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked softly, reaching out to him.

Rhaegar shook his head, his lower lip trembling as he looked up at his parents. The sight tugged at Aemond’s heart, and he reached out his hand to the boy, his voice gentle and encouraging.

“It’s okay, Rhaegar. You can come say hello to your brother and sister if you want to.”

Slowly, Rhaegar nodded, his little legs carrying him closer to the bed. Aemond smiled reassuringly, guiding him closer.

“This is your brother, Aerys,” he said, his voice filled with pride as he showed Rhaegar the sleeping baby boy nestled in his arms.

Viserra lifted their tiny daughter slightly, revealing her to Rhaegar. “And this is your sister, Aerea” she said, her voice soft and loving.

Rhaegar peered curiously at Aerea, his eyes wide with awe. “She’s small, and so beautiful” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder.

Aemond chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “She is. And that’s why we’re counting on you to help protect her. Can you do that?”

Rhaegar’s face lit up with determination, and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, Kepa, I will,” he promised, his small chest puffed up with the importance of his new role (Father).

Aemond smiled at his son, then turned to his mother, Alicent, who had been watching the scene with a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to see your grandchildren, Mother?” he asked.

Alicent nodded, stepping closer to the bed. She looked down at the twins, her smile growing as she studied them in turn.

“They are beautiful,” she said warmly, her eyes misting over with emotion. “Aemond was just as tiny when he was born, but he up grew strong-”

Aemond and Aegon exchanged a glance, both struggling to suppress their laughter.

Aegon smirked, and Aemond shook his head, murmuring, “Too easy.”

Alicent raised an eyebrow, catching their exchange, but chose to ignore it.

Instead, she leaned down to press a kiss to Aemond’s cheek, then Viserra’s, before stepping back to admire the twins once more.

As the family gathered around, the room filled with warmth and love, the bonds between them strengthening with the arrival of Aerys and Aerea.

For a moment, all was right in their world.

As the night deepened and the castle fell into a peaceful quiet, Aemond found himself slipping away from his chambers, leaving Viserra, Rhaegar, and the twins in blissful sleep under the guard of Ser Erryk.

He made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, seeking the solace of a drink with his brother.

Aegon was already lounging comfortably with a goblet in hand, his usual smirk in place as Aemond entered. “About time,” Aegon teased, raising his goblet in a mock toast. “I was beginning to think fatherhood had tamed you entirely.”

Aemond rolled his eye but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips.

He poured himself a drink, clinking his goblet against Aegon’s. “To my wife and our children” Aemond said simply, taking a long sip of the rich wine.

Aegon nodded in agreement, then leaned back, his expression turning slightly more serious. “Do you think that Baratheon bitch will cause trouble once the birth is announced? As the realm will still see them as Baratheons”

Aemond’s jaw tightened at the mention of the name. “I’ll die before I let anyone associate my children with that name again,” he said coldly, his voice firm and unyielding.

Aegon chuckled, amused by his brother’s fierce protectiveness. “Look at you, the proud father. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this much—well, aside from the night you first fucked Viserra-”

Aemond shot him a glare and retaliated with a sharp elbow to Aegon’s ribs, causing his brother to grunt and laugh even harder.

“You’re insufferable,” Aemond muttered, but the smile lingered on his face.

Aegon rubbed his side, still grinning, and then his expression grew contemplative. “I wonder if our other brother— Dalton, Derran or whatever his name is-will bother to grace us with his presence for this grand occasion.”

Aemond couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s not his name, Aegon.”

“Well, what is his name then?” Aegon replied with a shrug. “He’s not exactly around as much as he should be. Sometimes I think the realm believes we’re the only ones”

Aemond shook his head, amused despite himself. “I’ve sent word to Daeron. Hopefully, he’ll arrive soon.”

“Daeron-what kind of name is that. Hang on do you think our mother had a thing for Daemon?”

“What idiotic notion is that?” asked Aemond.

“Think about it your name is just with the letter at the end, and Daeron is also similar to Daemon” replied Aegon.

“How much wine have you had to drink already-it’s addled your mind” exclaimed Aemond.

“My mind was addled long ago. Come on, a coincidence, I think not” said Aegon waving his hand dismissively.

“So, your suggesting that our pious mother has been secretly harbouring a crush on our Uncle and named her children in his honour”

“Exactly, or it could be worse. What if your Daemons bastard son? I mean you do kind of look like him in certain lights and you act like him as well” said Aegon smirking.

“I do not” snapped Aemond.

“Yes, you do. You even stand the same, you know in that ridiculous hand on the sword pose”

“It’s a precautionary measure, I don’t have to waste time reaching for my sword if my hand is already on it” replied Aemond frowning.

“So, you admit that you always have your hand wrapped around your sword” laughed Aegon raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, get a grip-”

“Isn’t that what you do?” asked Aegon trying to stifle his laughter.

“I will not dignify that question with an answer-We were talking about Daeron coming to visit, not whatever the hell it was you were babbling on about” said Aemond.

Aegon snorted, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “I know-Daeron the Disappeared—that’s what they’ll call him.”

Aemond chided him with a disapproving look. “You’re still as immature as ever,” he said, though the smile playing on his lips betrayed his amusement.

Aegon raised his goblet in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged,” he said, then took another sip, his gaze turning thoughtful. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? That this is where we are now, when just a few years ago, we were on the brink of war”

Aemond considered his brother’s words, the memory of those tense, uncertain days still fresh in his mind. “Do you ever wish you were still King?” he asked quietly, curious about Aegon’s thoughts.

“Gods, no,” Aegon replied almost immediately, shuddering at the thought. “I have no taste for duty, nor do I wish to rule. I’m content with the way my life is now. What about you?”

Aemond took a moment to reflect, thinking of Viserra, Rhaegar, and the newborn twins, and the peace that now surrounded them. “I’m more than happy with my life,” he answered sincerely. “I have my wife and children. That’s all I need.”

Aegon grinned and threw an arm around Aemond’s shoulder, pulling him into a brotherly embrace. “Who’d have thought it?” he mused, his voice filled with a mix of pride and affection. “My twat of a little brother has turned out to be a pretty good husband and father.”

Aemond huffed in response, but there was no denying the warmth in his chest at Aegon’s words.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” muttered Aegon, but Aemond couldn’t hide the smile that crept onto his face.

Aemond swung his sword with precise, calculated force, each blow landing with a satisfying thud against the worn training dummy.

The repetitive motion, the sound of steel meeting wood, provided a temporary escape from the frustrations that had been building up inside him.

He needed a break from the endless stream of visitors, especially from Viserra’s family that had descended upon the Red Keep like a flock of crows, their presence a constant irritant.

He tolerated them only for Viserra’s sake, but there were limits to his patience.

Jacaerys was an insufferable oaf, with bad hair that swaggered around with the arrogance of someone who didn’t know his place. Aemond’s lip curled in disdain at the thought of him.

Luke, though, was the one who truly stirred the anger in his chest. Even after all these years, the memory of that night in Driftmark haunted him—the night Luke had carved out his eye.

Sure, the Strong whelp had apologized, but words meant nothing. The damage was done. His eye was gone, and the pain lingered, a constant reminder of what had been taken from him.

What rankled the most was that he could never gaze upon the beauty of his wife or their children with both eyes, never experience the fullness of their faces in the way he should have been able to.

He imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like to repay that debt—to see Luke suffer as he had suffered. But then the thought of Viserra stilled his hand.

For her, he would stay his wrath. She was the reason he could hold back, the only reason.

Baela, too, was another thorn in his side. Her resentment over his claiming of Vhagar was palpable. Aemond had long accepted that taking the dragon at their mother’s funeral was wrong, but he would never apologize for claiming the great she-dragon.

Dragons were not possessions; they were sentient creatures, beings of intelligence far beyond the understanding of lesser men. Viserra had once told him, "It's the dragons who choose their riders," and he believed that with every fibre of his being.

Vhagar had chosen him that night, and nothing anyone said would change that.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Aemond turned, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his sword.

Luke hovered at the edge of the training ground, an uncertain expression on his face.

“Nephew,” Aemond greeted him coolly, his voice edged with a barely restrained irritation. “Come to train?”

Luke shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. “My skill would offer little challenge,” he replied, his voice subdued.

Aemond hummed, the sound low and dangerous as he sheathed his sword. “What is it you want, my Lord Strong?”

Luke hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under Aemond’s piercing gaze. “Viserra is calling for you,” he finally said, his tone tentative.

Aemond nodded curtly, moving to brush past him. But before he could, Luke spoke again, his voice soft and full of regret. “I am sorry, f-for your eye.”

Aemond stopped in his tracks, the words hanging in the air between them.

Slowly, he turned to face Luke, his expression unreadable. “No apology in the world will make up for what you took from me,” he said, his voice cold as ice.

Luke nodded, the sadness in his eyes deepening. “I know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond studied him for a long moment, his thoughts churning. “If I were a lesser man,” he said slowly, “I would demand your eye in return. But as much as I hate you, I will not subject you to the same suffering I have endured, as I know a weakling whelp like you wouldn’t be able to handle it”

Luke’s head bowed, the weight of Aemond’s words settling heavily on his shoulders.

Aemond watched him for another moment, then turned and walked away, leaving Luke standing alone in the training yard, the echoes of their conversation lingering in the still air.

A week later, the dinning room of the Red Keep was filled with warmth and laughter as the family gathered for a small celebration in honour of the birth of Viserra and Aemond's twins.

Rhaenyra had gone out of her way to ensure that the feast was perfect, with every detail attended to, from the arrangement of flowers to the selection of the evening's dishes.

Viserra's and Aemond's favourite foods were laid out on the long table, a spread that included roasted game, savoury pies, and rich desserts.

And much to Aegon's delight, the wine was plentiful, with bottles of Arbor Gold and Dornish Red flowing freely.

Viserra sat in a cushioned chair near the hearth, her heart swelling with contentment as she watched the scene before her.

Aemond was across the room, sitting with Rhaegar on his knee and cradling little Aerea in his arm. The sight made her smile; he was a natural with their children, his usually stern features softened as he murmured quietly to Rhaegar and adjusted Aerea’s blanket.

Beside him, Alicent held Aerys, her face aglow with the gentle pride of a grandmother.

Across the room, Rhaenyra and Daemon watched over Aegon the Younger and little Viserys as they played near the fire with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

The children’s laughter was a comforting background to the evening, their innocent joy a reminder of the peace that had settled over the family.

Helaena sat nearby with Maelor beside her, chatting softly with Baela, who had her own daughter, Laena, perched on her knee. The two women exchanged stories of motherhood; their conversation punctuated by quiet laughter from the babes in their arms.

Jace, Luke, and Rhaena hovered in a corner, speaking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Although Aemond was aware of them, his attention was focused on his family, the bond he shared with his wife and children more important than any lingering tensions with his nephews.

He was content to let them talk, his heart too full of the love he felt for Viserra and their twins to concern himself with old grudges.

Meanwhile, Aegon was thoroughly enjoying himself, a goblet of wine in hand as he engaged in a one-sided conversation with Daeron.

The younger brother looked desperate for an escape from Aegon’s drunken ramblings, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t seem to break away.

Aemond caught Daeron’s eye from across the room and offered him a sympathetic smile, but it was clear that Daeron would have to endure his older brother's enthusiasm for a while longer.

As the evening wore on, the warmth of the fire and the hum of conversation filled the room with a sense of contentment and security.

Viserra felt Aemond’s gaze on her and met his eye across the room, sharing a silent moment of connection. This was what they had fought for, what they had endured so much to achieve—a family united in love and peace, with their children safe and happy.

Eventually, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, lifting a goblet in a toast. “To family,” she declared, her voice strong and filled with emotion. “To the future of House Targaryen, and to the new life that blesses us.”

The room erupted in cheers, the clinking of goblets echoing through the hall.

As the celebration continued, Ser Erryk entered the room, his expression polite but firm. He approached Rhaenyra and bowed slightly before speaking.

"Your Grace, the Lady Cassandra Baratheon and her husband, Lord Lorian Tyrell, have arrived."

Rhaenyra's brow furrowed slightly at the unannounced visit, but she nodded gracefully.

She noticed Viserra's face pale at the mention of Cassandra's name, and Rhaenyra's eyes briefly flicked to Aemond, who immediately handed Aerea to Alicent.

The twins were placed carefully in a small cot, Aemond’s hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the dagger at his belt.

The doors opened, and Cassandra entered with Lorian at her side. Her expression was a mixture of forced politeness and barely concealed arrogance.

Rhaenyra met her with a calm, polite demeanour, though her eyes were sharp. "A surprise to see you, Lady Baratheon. What can I do for you?"

Cassandra smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I heard that my former stepmother had delivered twins and was most aggrieved not to have received an invitation to meet them. After all, they are my siblings-by name."

Aemond’s grip on his dagger tightened, the insult clear and deliberate. Viserra, trying to maintain composure, offered a strained apology. "I’m sorry, Lady Cassandra, it was not my intention to offend—"

But Cassandra brushed past her words, moving toward the cot where the twins lay. She peered inside with a smirk, her tone dripping with condescension.

"More silver-haired babes, not a dark hair among them. A shame, really. I never thought the Targaryen genes were really that strong." Her gaze lingered on Jace and Luke, making her meaning clear.

Aemond’s voice was low and menacing as he stepped forward. "Step away from them."

Cassandra turned to face him, her smile widening. "Ah, yes, as always, hovering around. You might want to be careful, my Prince. Someone might think you have more personal reasons for such a thing."

Before Aemond could respond, Daemon stepped forward, his presence commanding. "If you have anything else to say, Lady Baratheon, say it now, or leave."

Cassandra’s smirk only grew. She took Lorian’s hand and announced, "I’m with child—a new legitimate heir for Storm’s End."

Daemon’s eyes narrowed at the veiled insult to Viserra, but before he could act, Rhaenyra placed a hand on his chest, calming him.

"Congratulations, Lady Cassandra, Lord Lorian. If that’s all, you may take your leave."

Cassandra’s smile faltered as she realized she was being dismissed. "I wish to stay for the celebration," she insisted, her tone challenging.

Aemond’s voice was cold, filled with barely restrained fury. "You’re not welcome here."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "And why not? They are my brother and sister, after all. Unless, of course, you want to confess otherwise, my Prince"

The tension in the room was palpable. Cassandra’s eyes flickered to Aerea, noticing the scales on her shoulder where her outfit had slipped down.

Her face twisted in distaste. "What’s wrong with her?"

Viserra bristled, her protective instincts flaring. "Nothing is wrong with her."

Cassandra sneered. "It’s ugly."

Before Viserra could respond, Alicent stepped forward with a fury that surprised everyone.

The crack of her slap echoed through the room as she struck Cassandra across the face.

"Don’t you dare speak such vile things about an innocent babe."

The room fell into stunned silence. Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with a rare approval as she stepped forward, her voice cold and unyielding.

"Leave immediately. I will not suffer any further insults or interruptions."

Cassandra, her hand on her stinging cheek, looked around the room, her expression a mix of shock and fury. Lorian tugged at her arm, guiding her toward the door as they made a hasty retreat.

As the doors closed behind them, Aegon stumbled forward, still clutching his goblet. His voice was slurred but full of intent. "The two of them should be burned for that insult."

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, his tone serious. "Don’t tempt me."

Aegon scoffed, clearly drunk but determined. "I’ll take Sunfyre," he declared, raising his goblet. "-and Dave, you and Tessarion will accompany me. We’ll deal with the pair, no problem."

Daeron, standing nearby, finally stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "My name is Daeron-"

Aegon turned to him with a confused expression. "Since when?"

"Since birth," Daeron replied dryly.

Aemond caught Viserra’s eye across the room. Despite the tense situation, she couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Aemond’s lips twitched into a smile as well, the shared moment of levity cutting through the lingering tension.

Later that night, as the castle settled into a quiet calm, Viserra gently tucked the twins into their cradle, ensuring they were comfortable and warm.

Their tiny chests rose and fell peacefully, the soft glow of the hearth casting a gentle light over their delicate features.

Aemond entered their chambers with a soft smile, his expression softening as he saw Viserra caring for their children.

She looked up at him, a tired but content smile on her lips. "How many stories did Rhaegar demand tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the twins.

Aemond moved closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and they both gazed down at their sleeping babies. "Just the one," he murmured. "He was quite tired tonight."

For a moment, they stood in silence, simply enjoying the serenity of the moment. Aemond’s hold tightened slightly as he turned his head, his lips brushing against Viserra’s ear.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern. "If you wish it, I won’t let Daemon take it upon himself to deal with Cassandra. I’ll do it myself."

Viserra let out a small sigh, leaning back into his embrace. "As tempting as that is," she replied, her tone thoughtful, "it’s probably not a good idea. Might be a little too suspicious."

Aemond nodded against her, though his jaw tightened at the thought of Cassandra’s insult. "I swear, if she turns up at our wedding, I won’t hold back," he muttered darkly.

Viserra turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes with a mischievous glint. "If she does, you have my permission to deal with her as you see fit."

Aemond’s expression softened as he nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "It’s a promise," he whispered, his voice filled with a protective edge.

Viserra tilted her head slightly to give him better access, her eyes closing as she enjoyed the closeness.

But after a moment, she asked, "How is Aegon? He drank a considerable amount of wine tonight."

Aemond chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her neck. "He’s fine. Daeron saw him to bed."

Viserra let out a soft laugh, turning her head to look at him. "Don’t you mean Dave?"

Aemond grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Aegon is impossible, but he means well."

Viserra’s laughter faded as she turned fully in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck.

She leaned up and kissed him passionately, her lips lingering on his as the warmth of their love enveloped them both. But after a moment, she reluctantly pulled away, her forehead resting against his.

Aemond’s eyes were filled with understanding and patience as he gazed at her. "I-I’m not yet healed," she whispered, her voice filled with both apology and longing.

Aemond cupped her face gently, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "There’s no rush, my love," he reassured her, his voice tender. "We have all the time in the world."

“I may not be able to indulge in the pleasures of the marriage bed, but I could always treat you-” said Viserra.

“T-Treat me?” gasped Aemond, his breeches becoming uncomfortably tight.

“Well, I see the way you gaze at me as I feed our children, so I’m assuming you would like a taste-” replied Viserra.

Suddenly Aemond became very flustered, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Plus, I’m sure if you taste me, then I shall taste you in return, Issa prūmia” exclaimed Viserra as she undid the ties of her night gown and revealed her swollen breasts (My heart).

“Viserra, I-I-” stammered Aemond.

“Oh, is it not something you want. M-My apologise” exclaimed Viserra her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

Aemond stood stunned as Viserra quickly gathered the front of her night gown and turned away from him, a small sob escaping her lips.

“N-No my love. I want too. I was just surprised by the offer” exclaimed Aemond.

“I-It’s ok. I will n-not o-offer a-again” whispered Viserra, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

With a growl Aemond took hold of Viserra and spun her around, his lips immediately on hers.

Viserra gasped as she felt Aemond hands pulling at her night gown, tearing the cotton fabric in his haste.

“Never-deprive-me-of-you” groaned Aemond against her lips, before he pulled away to remove his own clothes that were soon piled in a heap on the floor.

“N-Not my small clothes” muttered Viserra as Aemond slipped the ruined material off her body.

“I know” replied Aemond as he gently urged Viserra to lay on the bed.

Aemond then descended on Viserra’s soft lips, kissing her, his hands gently caressing her milk swollen breasts.

Aemond released Viserra’s mouth and bent down to lick her nipples, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he went back and forth between her wonderful, enlarged breasts that nourished their children.

“Oh” muttered Viserra as she flung her arms over her face, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.

Aemond ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Hmmm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suckle at her breasts, gorging himself on her milk, his hard cock pressed against her thigh.

His tongue swirling around her stiffened peaks, his teeth scraping against her skin, the sounds of him swallowing.

It felt so good, it felt-

“-A-Aemond” gasped Viserra.

“What is it my love”.

“Don’t stop-please, oh gods-don’t stop” exclaimed Viserra as she arched her back, her cunny clenching around nothing as she unexpectedly climaxed.

“Did you just-peak?” asked Aemond smirking as he released her nipple with a soft pop.

“Yes” replied Viserra, her cheeks tinged pink.

“Well, that’s never happened before. I think I like it” muttered Aemond he moved forward and kissed her passionately, his tongue invading her mouth.

“L-Let me taste you. Please” begged Viserra.

Aemond moved and propped himself against a hastily assembled pile of pillows. His hard cock proudly on display.

Aemond stared down at his naughty little wife, his mouth hanging open as Viserra lightly ran her fingers over him, teasing the glistening head.

Next thing he knew, Viserra’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around the head of his cock.

Viserra’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Viserra!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Viserra ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When she engulfed Aemond’s cock back into her mouth, he squeezed his eye shut.

Aemond forced himself to open his eye, he had to watch his precious wife sucking his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.

Viserra smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

“It feels so good” groaned Aemond.

Viserra responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand cupped his stones.

Then she slid one of her fingers towards his hole.

“F-Fuck” moaned Aemond as she gently massaged over the tight ring of muscle.

“Do you like that raqiarzy?” asked Viserra (Beloved).

“Y-Yes” exclaimed Aemond.

“What about this?” asked Viserra as she put a finger into her mouth and then returned it to his hole before she gently slid the tip of her finger in.

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

“More?”

“Y-Yes. P-Please. M-More” groaned Aemond.

Viserra responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her finger slowly moved inside him.

“Another-p-put another inside me” begged Aemond his body rocking against her fingers.

Viserra smiled and gently added another and Aemond began to whimper as she curled her fingers inside him.

“Shit-Viserra I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Viserra’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Viserra.

All Aemond could do was nod.

Viserra smiled gratefully, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before resting her head against his chest.

Aemond held her close, the rhythmic beating of his heart soothing her as they laid together in the quiet of the night.

Eight months had passed since the birth of the twins, and the day had finally arrived for Aemond and Viserra to wed under the Faith of the Seven in the grand Sept of King’s Landing.

The city was alive with anticipation, banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen fluttering in the breeze as nobles and commoners alike gathered to witness the union.

The Sept was a vision of grandeur, filled with lords and ladies adorned in their finest attire, their faces glowing in the light of countless candles.

At the altar, the High Septon stood with a solemn air, ready to conduct the sacred ceremony that would unite two powerful houses.

Aemond, resplendent in his red and black attire, stood tall and proud. His single eye was fixed on Viserra, who approached him with a grace that took his breath away.

She wore a gown of shimmering white lace, her long silver hair cascading in waves over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and love.

The ceremony commenced with the High Septon intoning ancient words, calling upon the Seven to bless their union.

When it came time for Aemond to drape his cloak over Viserra’s shoulders, she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I’m with child again-”

Aemond’s eye widened in surprise, and then a joyous laugh escaped his lips. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply, causing a few titters of amusement to ripple through the gathered guests.

The High Septon cleared his throat, a slight smile playing at his lips, “We haven’t got to that part yet.”

Blushing slightly, Aemond and Viserra pulled back, but their hands remained intertwined, their eyes locked on each other.

The ceremony continued with the High Septon binding their joined hands with a ribbon of gold and silver, symbolizing their unity.

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” the High Septon proclaimed.

He then declared, “Let it be known that Aemond of House Targaryen and Viserra of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

In unison, Aemond and Viserra recited, “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger-” Their voices were steady and filled with conviction.

Aemond continued, “I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

Viserra followed, her voice soft yet firm, “I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

Finally, Aemond declared, “With this kiss, I pledge my love,” and leaned in to seal their vows with a kiss.

As their lips met, a cheer erupted from the gathered crowd, and the Great Sept was filled with the sound of applause and joyous exclamations.

The kiss lingered, full of promise and devotion, and when they finally parted, both were beaming.

Hand in hand, they turned to face their family and friends, united in love and purpose, ready to face whatever the future held together.

[whalyrae]

DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 7

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)

Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 5k

Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,…

Tag list : @ghostlyworld @kawaiikpoplover268 @scuzmunkie @iamkookiesforyou @00ihatesnaku @stellauniverse @akemiixx01 @aceofcards05 @strxwbloody @seoul9711 @amara-mars @alex-walker-86 @yoongicatcat @xicanacorpse @maciesmess 

A/N : It took me more time than I thought to write this sorry (again ;-;) dealing with mental health issues is shit really I wish I was strong and courageous like my characters LMAO. So as an apology, this chapter is a little longer than usual :D Hope you'll like it !

I'll never thank u enough for all the likes and shares despite the looong time I take to write and publish the next chapters ;w; that's my only motivation to keep writing the story tbh...! (I have severe impostor syndrome yes...... ^^) so thank you again !! Don't hesitate to let a comment here, or in my inbox !! ♥

Also I made a playlist for the story ! If you have any songs who made you think about the story, you can share it to me and I'll add it on the playlist ! ♥

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad | Spotify playlist

Chapter 6 // Chapter 8

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

A/N² : again it's barely proof read, sorry for the potential mistakes TwT

. . .

The day has come. The practice exam was this afternoon. 

When you woke up this morning, you felt like you wanted to throw up. Being stressed was an euphemism. You didn’t even know why you felt like that. You spent the previous weeks practicing, alone and with Wooyoung. You even had some help and advice from his boyfriend, San. 

You never get why you were so stressed. Once the music started, all the anxiety and apprehension would disappear. It had always been that way when you danced. 

These last few months, your body was really testing you, and you weren't thanking it at all. 

You knew the steps perfectly, you and Wooyoung’s coordination and synchronization were perfect. You were more than ready, you knew it. And despite that, you were anxious, sure you’d fail everything, having bad notes, failing your scholarship after working so hard…

“Y/N ?”

The sudden voice startled you. In your kitchen, you were the last remaining in this apartment. Your roommates had already left, wanting to rehearse one last time before the exam. 

You would have done the same, but the stress and anxiety had given you such a stomach ache that it took you longer to get out of bed. 

You weren’t surprised to see Jimin not really anxious. You'd never seen him stressed when it came to dancing. And from the relaxed attitude Hoseok and Jungkook had shown since you'd met them, you suspected they were in the same category as Jimin. 

When you recognized the voice and noticed Jin facing you, you couldn't hide your surprise. 

“I thought you all left for work ?” you asked him, trying to stay calm. 

“Yoongi don’t need me at this hour,” Jin replied with a chuckle, “I'll be more of a nuisance than anything else. Is everything all right?”

You noticed the two cups of coffee held in his hands when he handed one to you. You silently thanked him and took a sip after blowing on the top of the cup to not burn yourself. It was delicious. Jin's coffees were the best. He'd never forgotten how you took it, ever since the first time he'd served you on the day you met. 

"I can smell your stress from the doorway, you know?" he said after a few seconds, seeing that you didn't answer because you simply didn't know what to say. 

You chuckled and pursed your lips, it was a nervous laugh. 

"Is it that obvious?"

"Trust me there's a picture of you next to the word anxious in the dictionary!"

Okay, the next laugh was more relaxed, more sincere. Jin had this sense of humor that some might find heavy and boring, but it was just the opposite for you. You were always the first to laugh at his jokes, sometimes even against your will. But what could you do? Jin was naturally amusing. He had a way of lightening the mood quickly and with just a few words. 

“Everything will be fine, you don’t have to worry about that.” He kept talking, as he took a step towards you, "You've worked hard, you've done your best, there's no reason for you to fail. Don't forget that you're good, you're really good."

Delicately, his hand came to rest on your shoulder, provoking a slight discharge that was anything but painful. 

How had you never noticed that what you felt for them, for him, wasn't friendship? That need you felt with every physical contact, your heart racing, your stomach twisting in such a pleasurable way. 

You felt both foolish for having been so blind and in denial all this time, but at the same time relieved to have finally been able to put a word to all these things, to finally have a clear vision of the situation. 

The only thing you couldn't control, and wouldn't control, would be the boys' reaction when you admitted to them that you were an omega. Because yes, now that the end of exams had arrived, and on top of that, you were going to be entitled to two weeks' rest, you were going to have to tell them (part of) the truth. You'd promised yourself you'd do it, you couldn't back out. Especially as your next heat could come at any moment. 

Perhaps that's also where the stress came from, that uncertainty, that lack of knowledge about the coming heat you were so worried about, about how you were going to manage it, about...

"Y/N... you're overthinking again."

You bite your lips nervously, shaking her head with a nervous smile. 

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry… I guess it’ll be better at the end of the day !”

Jin shook his head with a chuckle, and his face changed quickly from a most serious one, maybe the most serious face she had seen since she met him. 

“I’m sure it’s more than just… this exam, but you won’t talk to us, nor Jimin. You know we could never leave you, or judge you, no matter what it is ?”

So they all noticed you were acting differently, didn't they? Of course, they could. You weren’t the best to hide when something was wrong. And even if you were, Jimin could read you like an open book. And you did not doubt that he would have later confided to his partners. 

“I know, and it’s the same for me, I just… need to get done with this exam first.” you began, your voice trembling, “I know I haven't been... the most agreeable person lately, and I'm sorry for that, sincerely…”

You looked away, for some reason feeling your eyes sting, as if you wanted to cry. 

“Hey, hey, listen... look at me, please,” Jin's hands rested delicately on your cheeks. He waited patiently, and resumed once your eyes met, “You don't have to apologize, we all go through moments more tense, more difficult than others that make us more tense and nervous, no one here holds it against you, believe me.”

You nodded. He wiped the few tears from your eyes and leaned to place his lips on your forehead. And it's a good thing you had a certain amount of self-control, that you could restrain your actions, your desires, and your impulses, because the only craving you had right now when you felt Jin's soft lips against your forehead, was to raise your face and have your lips meet his. 

It was the hardest thing you'd ever had to do. 

“Ah, I have an idea !” he exclaimed as he stepped back, leaving you with a very unpleasant feeling of emptiness, “I'll drive you to your class, we'll go through the café, and Yoongi will give you croissants and coffee for you, Minnie, Kook' and Hobi!”

You blinked several times, not taking your eyes off him while he moved into your apartment to grab your bag.

“Wait!” You called out as you grabbed his arm, “I thought Yoongi didn’t want to be disturbed before the opening?” 

"Oh don't worry, we’ll be quick. Plus if it's you he won't say anything." Jin shrugged with a smirk as he handed her her bag, “You know, he doesn't show it, but he has a soft spot for you.”

You raised your eyes to the sky, trying to prevent your body from betraying you, but you couldn't. You could already feel your face and ears heating up. You knew Yoongi's temperament; he had his own way of showing affection to the people he loved. You also didn't doubt that he cared for you, but to use the word “soft spot”... 

“You're blushiiing...” Jin suddenly teased. 

“I'm not!” you exclaimed as you walked past him with your head down hiding any hints of blush if there were one, “Let's go! I don't want to be late!"

You didn't want Jin to be able to see what effect this was having on you, what effects they all were having on you. And that damn body that would only betray you... the coward! 

“Yes ma'am!” Jin couldn't hold back his giggle and stepped out with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. The warmth of his embrace, his very singular scent didn't help your mood at all. “Aaah what are we going to do with you, little tsundere!”

“I'm not a... argh, you know what, never mind!” 

You didn't know why, but you had a feeling it was going to be a very long day. 

°°°

When you arrived at the dance hall less than an hour later, you quickly spotted Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin chatting with each other. Jungkook was the first to spot you and waved to you with his eternal big smile that melted you every time. 

You looked around for San and Wooyoung, remembering the day before that Wooyoung told you that some of the second and senior-year students would be there to watch the first years, which added a layer of stress because some of them, being alphas, were the ones who had almost harassed you to be an omega at the beginning of the year. 

But as you and Wooyoung had said to each other in the café when you first met: "We'll take the opportunity to nail all those pretentious alphas who like to spend their lives looking down on us!" 

And that was your main motivation right now. 

"Noona! We're here!" he exclaimed, drawing the attention of several students to you, which you decided to ignore because all their attention would be on you in about a dozen minutes anyway. 

"Oh great pastries!" exclaimed Jimin, taking the box from your hands as you handed it to him, "They're from Yoongi hyung!"

"Thank god, I love him so much, I'm starving..." muttered Jungkook who didn't wait to open the box and take out a cupcake which he bit into instantly. 

“Oh, you have Jin's scent on you...” Hoseok didn’t seem to be interested in pastries and approached you. You almost had the impression he was humming you quickly. "Hey, you're wearing his hoodie!”

You and Jin had gone to the café where Yoongi was already, and as Jin had told you earlier, Yoongi's face, initially shut and ready to scold Jin by reminding him that he didn't like to be disturbed in the morning, had immediately softened on seeing you appear beside him. Jin noticed this immediately and didn't stop himself from pointing out that he'd been right by giving you a little nudge on the shoulder and a chuckle, making you grumble as you did your best not to blush again. 

Yoongi of course understood why Jin had brought you along, because like everyone else, he knew that this day was important for Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, and you. 

He didn't ask any questions, he didn't even say a word. He just walked away and packed some pastries he knew you or the boys would enjoy, and you even noticed that he'd slipped a Strawberry Shortcake into the box, your favorite.  

When he walked to you and handed you the box, you could have sworn he brushed his fingers against yours on purpose, sending a long shiver down your spine. But he didn't notice, or so you hoped because even if he did, you didn't see any reaction from him. 

Once back in Jin's car, you noticed that you'd forgotten your jacket at the apartment, and unfortunately, you didn't have time to go home again. Jin hadn't hesitated to give you his hoodie, a café-au-lait-colored hoodie that was far too oversized for you, and you were floating in it, which made him laugh.  

The reason you couldn't say no was his smell. Like all of them, Jin had a very particular scent, very sweet but very strong, which invaded your whole being the moment the hoodie's fabric settled on your body. That same warmth returned to your stomach and probably also to your face, but Jin couldn't see it since you'd pulled the hood over your head. 

How could a simple piece of clothing make you feel so safe? 

“Noona? Noona!” Jungkook’s voice startled you, “Is everything fine? Don’t tell me you’re stressed!”

You blinked a few times and noticed your four friends staring at you, Jimin looking a little more worried than the others. Perhaps because he knew you best. 

“Ah yes, yes I’m fine!” you assured with a small smile, "Of course I'm stressed, not to be would be a sign of recklessness!"

"Well, I'm not really..."

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" you exclaimed, cutting off Hoseok who just couldn't help but laugh, "Ah and yes it's Jin's hoodie, I forgot my jacket at the apartment..."

"You could have asked me, I would have given you mine," Jimin muttered before receiving a small elbow from Hoseok. You looked at him, confused, and rubbed the back of your head with a shy smile. 

"You can give it to me if you want. No, wait... that's not what I meant..." you frowned, more to yourself, and tried to hide the heat wave by imagining yourself having not only Jin's scent but also Jimin's on you. 

"Oh no? What did you mean then?" Jungkook leaned towards her with a small smirk, "If you want I can pass you mine too, and I'm sure Hobi will do the same!" 

You frowned as you realized that Jungkook was starting to tease you, suspicions confirmed when Hobi also tapped him on the shoulder. But the mere idea of being surrounded by all the smells of your roommates and friends was enough to send a wave of warmth through your lower belly and your whole being. 

You had to change the subject, avoid the conversation going any further, or maybe find Wooyoung... 

Just when you needed it most, Wooyoung came up behind you and almost jumped on your back, snatching a laugh in the process. 

"Yo, did you miss me?" said Wooyoung in a cheerful tone who had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, he turned to your three friends and greeted them, a thin smile on his lips as he saw Jimin's reaction. It had reached the point where Wooyoung liked to make fun of Jimin's reactions, as he was the one who was the most protective of you, and according to Wooyoung, even jealous and possessive. But you still refused to believe it, being 100% certain that Jimin felt nothing but deep friendship. 

"You can't even imagine," you said ironically, rolling your eyes before grabbing Wooyoung's wrist and pulling you away from your three friends, "there's one last thing we need to discuss, good luck for later!"

"If you think we need luck..." chuckled Jungkook, making you roll your eyes at him again.  

You quickly walked away with Wooyoung, isolating yourselves in a corner of the dance hall, before letting out a long sigh.

"Wow, you don't look good, tense? Don't worry, we'll handle it!"

"Partly, but not only, there's something really weird going on..." 

You quickly told Wooyoung what had happened with Jin, then your reaction to your previous conversation with Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok. 

He remained silent for a few seconds after your explanation, before simply shrugging his shoulders. 

"It's a common thing with omegas, it's called a nest. Well, it's not a nest, but your behavior bears a strong resemblance to one." 

Seeing your confusion, Wooyoung gave a little laugh, not a mocking laugh, but an affectionate one, because indeed, you had a lot to learn. 

He then explained to you that a nest is usually a place where an omega can be comfortable and relaxed, whether they are in heat or just having a bad day. It mostly is the omega’s couch, filled with soft things, the most smelling like their mates if they have one. When they are mated, omegas can share their nest with their partner. 

"But that's the basic definition, made by idiots who like to put us in cases. It's happened very often with us that one of our alphas made a nest himself, because as long as it comforts them, why does it have to be only for omegas?" 

You nodded and smiled. Well, of course, Wooyoung was right, and when you learned this, you wondered why you'd never heard of what a nest was before today. Having grown up in an all-alpha family, a very closed-minded family at that, you weren't surprised that they didn't practice this sort of thing. Thinking back to your mother and sister, you realize that they could both use a little bit of it. As well as a good therapy.

"So that means it's not a sign that I'm going into heat?" you asked, a long sigh of relief leaving your lips as Wooyoung nodded. "Good, I wish I could tell them before it happens, I wouldn't like to... force it on them you know." 

"I understand, don't worry. Are you planning to tell them today?" 

You'd had a long talk with him the day before, about your decision to tell Jimin and your friends that you were an omega, to tell them the whole story. 

"Don't forget that if anything goes wrong, our door is wide open to you! Hongjoong hyung will welcome you with open arms, even though I'm sure everything will go perfectly!"

Wooyoung's optimism could be contagious at times. But he was right, you shouldn't think about the negative, you knew your friends after all, and you knew Jimin better than anyone else in this world. They wouldn't reject you for that. 

You hadn't had time to reply, the teachers, and a few senior students, including San, entered the room. The first-year students fell silent, knowing that the serious part was just about to begin. 

°°°

"Wait, you're first?!"

Jungkook exclaimed, looking at the grade board a few hours later. He turned to Wooyoung and you, as did several students who whispered words you didn't even understand. 

Slowly, you walked over to the board and looked at the sheet of paper on which the grades were written.

Jungkook Jimin and Hoseok were second. It had to be said that their performance was incredible. They had successfully mixed their solo and trio performances, creating a highly original tableau while respecting the given instructions. 

But apparently, the teachers preferred you and Wooyoung's performance. Even if there were only five small points that set you apart from your friends. 

A week before the exam, you and Wooyoung came up with the idea of teaching each other's solo choreography to the other. The solo instruction was that the creation had to be original and from the student himself, and there was no indication that the duo dance partner couldn't participate. Several of you had this idea in your class.

It seems this technique had paid off because you were now top of the class. 

"I don't believe it... Y/n pinch me please," asked Wooyoung in a whisper, before letting out a little scream as you obeyed. "Hey, that hurts!"

"You asked me to pinch you!" you exclaimed, turning to face him. 

"But it wasn't serious! Ah, we're first noona, we made it!" Wooyoung's face lit up and he took you in his arms, making you burst into a frank laugh, but also a way of letting out all the stress accumulated over the last few weeks. 

You hugged Wooyoung for a few seconds, unable to hide your joy and relief at having achieved such a formidable accomplishment, knowing the talented dancers in your group. Of course, you couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction at being able to rise above Jimin and your friends. 

You, who'd always had that imposter syndrome when dancing alongside talented dancers like Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, seeing your name inscribed in front of theirs made you realize that you belonged here, that you deserved it, like them, like Wooyoung.

San called Wooyoung, who jumped into his arms and couldn't help but share his joy with his boyfriend. San hugged him back, praising him. He stretched out his hand to you, and you gave him a high five as he winked at you.

"Noona!"

You turned to Jimin, who was walking towards you with a smile like you'd never seen before. Behind him, Jungkook and Hoseok seemed to be just as happy for you, and that only made your heart beat faster. 

You'd always known that between you and Jimin, there'd never been any competition, but you'd had this little thought that maybe Jungkook and Hoseok wouldn't be like him, and you were so relieved to find out that you were wrong. 

“It’s amazing, you are amazing!”

Jimin couldn't resist taking you in his arms, hugging you tightly. This time, you couldn't refuse this hug, you needed it. The stress of the last few weeks was fading away, and you missed your best friend's touch more than ever. 

Anyway, you'd tell them tonight that you were an omega, you didn't want to hide anymore.

°°°

Or maybe, you could wait a little more? 

Because now that you were probably a few minutes before telling (one of) the deepest secrets you ever had, you didn’t know if it was a good idea. 

They were all here, you were all in Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi’s apartment. They had decided to order a multitude of dishes and side dishes, which you shared on the coffee table. At the center of the table was a large bouquet made by Taehyung himself, who couldn't help himself when he heard how well Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok and you'd done. 

“Y/N please, don't forget us when you'll be one of Beyoncé's main dancers, okay? I'd love to have an autograph!”

You nearly choked on your soda at Jin's remark, causing general hilarity. 

“I don't want to dance for Beyoncé!” you couldn't help but laugh despite it, and you got up to grab a towel from the kitchen to wipe yourself off, “ah I swear Jin... you do have an imagination...”

You rolled your eyes as you heard them still laughing and joking about it. From the kitchen, you had a perfect view of the living room and your friends. They were eating, laughing, and teasing each other. There was no negativity in the room. You didn't want to risk ruining it now. But at the same time, you told yourself that if you didn't do it now, you'd never have the courage to do it again. You'd then have your heat without the ability to hide it, things could then degenerate one way or another, and you could lose them forever. 

The thought only was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Hey Y/N, everything okay?”

Yoongi's voice startled you, and you realized that he had joined you in the kitchen. The others didn't seem to have noticed your sudden tension, too busy with their conversations, unlike him. 

You didn't answer, just stared at him blankly at first, and could read the worry in his eyes, but also that little spark of gentleness that was so peculiar to him, a look that could give courage to anyone for whom it was intended. That look meant “You can do it, everything will be all right.” 

It was the same feeling you had when you spoke to Jin earlier this morning, except that Jin passed it on with his words. 

Your heart beat too fast, your mouth went dry. You had to do it. 

Without breaking eye contact, you finally opened your lips, and the words came out slowly, in an insecure, trembling voice. 

“I'm an omega.” 

The others didn't seem to hear you. Yoongi remained silent for a few seconds, without saying a word. Seconds that seemed to last an eternity. Seconds when you had time to imagine the worst possible scenarios, and he seemed to have guessed it.

It was only when he gently took your hand in his that you noticed it was shaking. 

“I know.” he murmured in a soft, reassuring voice, seeing your eyes widened with surprise and confusion, he shook his head with a small laugh, ” Later.”

You opened your mouth to reply but soon saw Jimin's face in your sight. 

“Noona! What's the matter? Are you alright? Did you burn yourself? you-”

“Jimin, let her talk, will you?”

This time it was Namjoon who had spoken, his voice sounding just as reassuring as Yoongi's. Everyone had fallen silent and was staring at you. You looked at each of them, ending with Jimin, whose gaze was filled with unspeakable concern.

You felt a slight pressure on your hand from Yoongi, who wanted to give you the courage to go for it. 

So, like with him, you did your best to gather your thoughts, to coordinate your voice and the words that should come from your lips.

“I... I am an Omega...”

Unfortunately, your voice was shakier than the first time. You couldn't help feeling even more ridiculous as you felt your eyes sting with tears.

“I am sorry... truly sorry I... I didn't mean to hide it...” you managed to articulate, ”I thought I was a beta until... recently and... I panicked.” you take a deep breath as you squeeze Yoongi's hand a little tighter, ”I'll understand if you're angry with me, if you don't want to be friends anymore or...”

“Don't be ridiculous!” 

You recognized Jimin's voice and embrace, which came suddenly, but which you accepted with barely hidden relief. His voice was shaking.

“You're my best friend, the most important person in my life as if that could change over something as trivial as that!”

You couldn't hold back a tear that ran down your cheek. Tear that couldn't finish its way when Yoongi ran his finger over your cheek to wipe it away. 

“It doesn't matter if you're an omega, an alpha, or a beta. You're our Y/N, we love you just the way you are!” exclaimed Jungkook, who sounded just as relieved as Taehyung and Jin. 

Namjoon nodded with a small smile and approached you. You had trouble seeing him, as Jimin had decided to cling to you. 

“It happens frequently actually. You think you are an alpha, and it turns out you're a beta, or an omega, or the other way around.” He explained, placing his hand on your hair as you acquiesced, which he began to stroke in a way that was intended to be gentle and reassuring. 

“You all don’t seem that surprised…” you said as you remembered words a few minutes ago, and when you heard Jungkook cough, you turned to him, confused. 

“I… I heard you a few weeks ago, you were on the phone with Wooyoung… Yoongi hyung heard me and we told the others…”

Ok, this one you didn't see it coming. But in the end, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin finally asked, looking at you curiously, and somewhat a little hurt by your silence, which you thought was totally valid. 

“Minnie, can you let go of her ?” Hoseok asked with a little laugh. 

“No, I have months of hugs to catch up !” he exclaimed, his grip on you tightening a little, making the others sigh. But you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. You didn’t mind it at all. You need it more than anything right now.

Oh how you missed his embrace, his warmth, his scent all over you. It felt so good, so right to be in his arms. It felt like where you should be. 

It felt like home.

“I didn't tell you because... when I saw the disgust... the disappointment in my mother's eyes...” You shook your head, swallowing back your tears, “That's why she asked me not to come anymore. I couldn't have supported... I couldn't have supported losing you too...” You looked at Jimin who held you closer to him, "to lose you all..."

Admitting these words out loud was harder than you thought. You weren't the kind of person to talk openly about your feelings, fears, and anxieties. 

“I don't want things to change, I don’t want you to treat me differently...”

You bit your lower lip. Your heart was beating a hundred miles. 

“I hope I never have to meet your parents,” Hoseok said in a cold voice you'd never heard from him, and strangely you found it oddly seductive.

“What a bunch of assholes,” Taehyung said disdainfully.

“I'm not even going to correct you this time. What a bunch of jerks.” Jin shook his head, frowning.

“Look, who cares? You're an omega, so what? Is this about your heat? We'll find a way to deal with it, just like we do with our ruts. We don't care, that's not the most important.” Namjoon smiles affectionately at you, “The main thing is that you feel comfortable with us, that we're all comfortable with each other, that's how a pack works after all, isn't it?”

This time, you hid your face against Jimin's shoulder, unable to hold back your tears any longer. 

“Wait... did I say something wrong?” Namjoon asked somewhat panicked, making the others laugh, even you, between sobs. 

“Don't worry, some stress to relieve.” Yoongi grabbed Namjoon's hand, kissing his cheek at the same time, before moving back to the sofa. “She’s fine now, everything will be fine from now on.”

“Ah Noona, I was so scared!” Taehyung exclaimed as he came around to hug you from behind, his torso pressing against your back. 

All these weeks, all this stress, this tension, this constant fear of living through this fateful moment had just come to an end tonight. 

Wooyoung had been right, once again. Things couldn't have gone better. 

Perhaps there was still the feelings thing, but for the moment, you didn't want to think about it. You just wanted to enjoy this moment, this acceptance you'd never had before today. You just wanted to enjoy Jimin's warmth, which you'd missed so much, and Taehyung's, and even Jungkook, who'd added to the hug somehow. 

As Jimin said, he didn't let go of you all evening, snuggling up to you like a Koala to its branch. You don't remember how the evening ended, except that you found yourself lying in a bed between Hoseok and Jimin. 

And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, you slept a nightmare-free sleep, your heart and soul as light as they'd ever been. 

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-seven: "The Week of Distractions"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt spend your first week living together and quickly find out just how distracting you both are to each other.

Or Lots of sex ensues.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 17.9k (yes, you read that right)

a/n: This installment is just smut. Lots of it. I'll mention there's Dom/Sub undertones, rough sex, and face-fucking in this installment (let me know if anything else might need to be noted). We do not get the full smut scenes because it's a smut montage and this would've gotten even more out of hand in length. I'd also like to thank @theetherealbloom for Monday's scene inspired by an ask! There is alternating POVs but I messed up and the last two are Reader (I was too tired to rewrite it at that point) and we get ALL the sides of Matt in here plus Spicy Reader. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle

Saturday

Matt’s fingers ran over the braille reader as he sat at the kitchen table, rereading a file on his laptop. Foggy had emailed him a handful of files yesterday morning before they’d left the office early to help you unpack and move into his place. Matt hadn't planned on looking at them over the weekend, he didn't think he’d have a chance to work on them until he was back in the office on Monday, but you’d been exhausted all morning today so Matt had suggested you take a nap after lunch. Which was what you were currently doing on the leather sofa nearby, his blanket draped over you.

You’d fallen asleep probably fifteen minutes ago now and Matt had quickly become very absorbed in the case he was working on. It had truthfully been frustrating him, though. There were a few particular details that he couldn’t seem to make sense of no matter how hard he tried. He’d read them over and over, running a hand through his hair in frustration and quietly cursing to himself. He was about ready to pull up his email and send a message to Foggy when he heard you make a soft noise from over on the couch.

Matt’s hand hesitated on the braille reader, his ears perking up before his head turned in your direction. He hadn’t been paying much attention to your sleeping form over on the couch while he had been working, knowing how tired you’d been since it had taken you so long to finally relax and fall asleep last night. Though after his talk with you in the kitchen around three in the morning, he’d noticed your nerves had leveled back out to their usual state and stayed there. Which he assumed meant you’d finally calmed and were beginning to adjust to living together now.

But as he focused on you just to his left, he was almost instantly hit with the scent of your arousal in the air. Matt felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants in response. How had he not noticed it earlier? Admittedly it was very faint, likely because you’d only recently become turned on by whatever it was you were dreaming about–something Matt was rapidly becoming curious about. 

As he tuned in closer to your body, he noticed your pulse was a little faster than usual when you were asleep. Even your breathing was hitching ever so slightly, something his ears were easily able to pick up on when he focused. No doubt you were dreaming about something sexual. That thought had Matt’s mind quickly shifting away from his work, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. 

It had been a few days since you’d both had sex–since Wednesday morning, to be exact. Right before he’d had to leave your place for work and you’d had to get ready for work yourself. Though Tuesday night had certainly been something at your place, but it had been the only time this week you and Matt had had sex. He’d been craving it–craving that connection with you again–which was probably why he’d been so overzealous Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, but he’d known you’d been stressed and busy this week with the move and hadn’t bothered to bring up sex since.

Matt’s eyes snapped shut the moment you made another noise. It was a soft hum that vibrated in the back of your throat, something that sounded like a muffled moan. Jaw clenched, Matt turned away from you in his chair and tried to focus back on his braille reader. It didn’t feel right that he was sitting here listening to you like this while you weren’t even awake. 

For a few minutes he tried hard to ignore the growing scent of your arousal, but it was no longer just lightly wafting towards him. No, now the scent of it was beginning to hang heavy in the air around him. Not only that, but he’d heard the gentle rustle of fabric as your thighs involuntarily squirmed together in your sleep, which was clearly only further increasing Matt’s favorite smell through the apartment. 

Hanging his head in his hands as he slumped over the kitchen table, he became achingly aware that he was already half hard. Would it be so wrong if he disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes? Took care of himself while you were asleep? Would jerking off to the scent of you in the air really be that wrong?

Before he could come to a conclusion, he’d heard you lightly moan again. Except this time it was followed by the softest, pleasure-filled utterance of his name in your sleep. Matt’s eyes once again snapped shut before he pressed the heels of his palms against them. 

This was sheer torture. Was it always going to be like this with you here now? With your arousal often coating the air around him, wonderfully suffocating him? He wasn’t sure he would survive that, not without constantly needing to fulfil the urge to either fuck you or bury his face in your cunt.

It didn’t help that he heard you calling his name again, the scent of you strong in his nose. With the heels of his hands still pressed against his closed eyes, his lips parted. Matt let the faint taste of you roll onto his tongue, a quiet whimper falling out of him as he heard you say his name again. His hips shifted on the chair, an uncomfortable feeling tightening in his gut. He needed to do something about his growing erection, there was no other option. But as he removed his face from his hands, he startled when he felt something touch his shoulder.

“Shit, sorry Matt!” you said, immediately withdrawing what was apparently your hand on him. “I was trying to get your attention for the past minute. You weren’t answering and you looked like you were in pain and I–”

He had turned towards you in the chair, hearing the way your words had cut off and your pulse had sped up when he did. No doubt you’d immediately noticed the tent of his sweatpants. Seconds later he heard you curse as you most likely pieced together why he was in his current state. And then immediately after that he swore he caught the spike in adrenaline in conjunction with the increase in that particular scent.

“Oh, I–I didn’t realize…” you trailed off.

Matt shot you a sheepish smile. “I guess this is something I didn’t exactly think about, either. Having you here all the time means you’re going to, well, become aroused at times and…that tends to have an effect on me. Obviously.”

Matt heard the way you were shifting back and forth on your feet in front of him, your lip slipping between your teeth. He wished it was his teeth gnawing on the soft flesh instead of yours–and that thought didn’t help his current situation.

“Do you…need to keep working?” you asked him carefully. 

A slow smile slid across Matt’s mouth before he turned even further towards you in the chair. “No,” he answered huskily. “I don’t need to work at all, actually. I was just keeping busy while you napped. Why, do you care to share what you were dreaming about?”

“Well,” you began, gradually lowering down to your knees before him, “I can show you what it was about, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, enjoying the flirtatiousness in your tone as your hands landed on his thighs. “I would definitely like that.”

He felt your hands sensually slide up his thighs, the warmth of them lingering behind on his skin beneath his sweatpants and causing Matt’s cock to further strain against its confines uncomfortably. Your fingers curled around the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers before gradually pulling them just halfway down his thighs. His hard cock sprang forth immediately, a faint sigh of relief falling out of him. 

As your hands landed back on his now bare upper thighs, your fingers running through the hair along his legs, Matt’s ears picked up on the excited noise that you emitted ever so softly. It was so quiet he was sure you hadn’t even realized you had made it. Your breathing had picked up, too, coming in faster and heavier. His own heart accelerated in his chest at the sound of your tongue gliding along your lips hungrily as one of your hands made its way towards his cock. 

You were becoming even more increasingly aroused now because you wanted to suck his cock–you were eager for it. Your body was practically screaming that at Matt. And that in itself was only further exciting him.

Your warm, soft hand gripped the base of him and Matt’s eyelids slowly fluttered closed at the contact. You had gripped him with the slightest of pressure and it had him desperate for more. He could tell how close your mouth had lowered to him, the heat of your breath falling over the sensitive skin of his cock with each exhale that passed between your plush lips. A moment later he felt the warm drip of your saliva land on the tip of him. Matt fought the urge to buck up into your hand as he impatiently waited for more, already longing to feel any part of you. 

Fortunately you didn't keep him waiting much longer, either. Your hand slid up the length of him, coating his cock in your saliva with a few pumps of your fist around him. Then he felt your warm tongue lightly swipe over the head of his cock, swirling a few times around it. Behind his closed lids, Matt's eyes momentarily rolled back. His lips parted once again, the taste of your arousal still thick in the air as it landed along his tongue. He was practically salivating at the tangy sweetness of it.

"This is what you were dreaming about, sweetheart?" Matt breathed out, enjoying the feel of your tongue gradually licking up the length of him. "My cock in your mouth? That's what you wanted?"

Your mouth sucked the tip of him straight inside before you hummed out an affirmative noise to his question. The vibration from your mouth shot straight up through the length of him, a burst of pleasure racing through Matt’s entire body. He groaned low in response, the noise a deep rumble in his chest. 

You had become exceptionally good at giving him head–honestly you'd become amazing at everything with him in the bedroom. Gradually he'd noticed that you had learned how to use his heightened senses to make him feel unbelievably good instead of accidentally overstimulating him. No one he'd ever been with before had been that perceptive of his body. No one had ever been so goddamn enjoyable to be with. But you were like this every damn time with him.

You sucked him further into your mouth, eager to take more of him already. Matt practically growled in response–you were unexpectedly enthusiastic this afternoon. His hand darted out, firmly gripping a fistful of your hair at the back of your head. His own head dropped back over his shoulders at the feel of your resulting moan in response to his grip, half of his cock in your mouth vibrating with the noise. 

The sensation felt so fucking good that his hips involuntarily snapped a fraction forward, sending himself just a bit further into your mouth. He'd quickly tried to restrain himself, but he'd certainly caught the resulting hum of pleasure from you again immediately afterwards. He whined at the feel of it, a coiling pleasure building at the base of his spine. He had begun to tremble from the effort of holding himself back, refraining from accidentally fucking into your mouth again, not wanting to hurt you or push your boundaries.

A moment later he felt you gradually slip your mouth off of him, your hand soon taking over as his head rolled forward again. He was close to apologizing, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but the languid strokes of your hand up and down the shaft of him had his words slow to form. You’d spoken before he had a chance to, and what you said next had Matt already wanting to cum.

"You don't need to hold back, baby," you told him. 

Your thumb ran over the head of him, the pad of it swiping over a particularly sensitive spot. Matt moaned out, a shudder running through his body. Fuck, were you really offering him that ?

"Are–are you sure?" Matt panted out. "We don't have to."

"Use me, Matt," you urged, thumb circling the tip of his cock again and causing Matt’s hips to squirm in the chair. "I want to try that with you."

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathed out, his other hand lightly grasping your chin, his thumb brushing over your dampened lips. “You’re really sure?”

Your lips wrapped firmly around his thumb, drawing it into your mouth as a hum of affirmation left you. Matt bit down hard on his own bottom lip when your tongue gently began to lap at the pad of his finger. How were you so good at this? At turning him on like this?

Your lips eventually released his finger, your mouth angling downwards to lightly place a kiss to the palm of his hand. And then you’d quickly maneuvered out of his grasp before sucking his cock hungrily back into your mouth. A flurry of curses flew out Matt in return, his hand gripping your hair tighter as you took him a little deeper. His abdominals tightened in pleasure at the feel of your warm mouth around him.

Carefully testing his boundaries, his hips ever so slightly rolled forwards up off the chair, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth. Your hands eagerly grasped onto his hips, an excited noise coming from your full mouth. 

" Ahh –fuck–sweetheart," Matt hissed out, his words broken. "You really want me to–to fuck your mouth?"

You once again hummed out an affirmative noise along Matt's cock, the feel of it causing him to moan out in pleasure. Not needing any further encouragement, Matt’s other hand lowered to lightly grip you by the throat. The scent of you grew thicker in the air as Matt heard the way your thighs had pressed together, his ears picking up on the slight rocking of your hips as you searched for friction. That only turned him on more–because you were getting turned on by this. 

When his hips rolled forward again, he could feel your throat relaxing as you took him deeper. A low, throaty groan fell out of Matt as his head fell completely over the back of the chair, his senses engulfed by you. Your nails further dug into his bare hips, encouraging him to fuck your eager mouth. 

And Matt was all too happy to oblige as he fucked up into your mouth yet again, a hiss of pleasure sneaking past his gritted teeth.

Sunday  

"Okay, so I've finally finished making a list and was about to run to the store for groceries for the week," you told Matt, making your way out of the bedroom as you skimmed over the list on your phone again. "Was there anything else you needed?"

Glancing up as you came to a stop just behind the leather couch, you saw Matt straighten back up from beside the dishwasher, the muscles of his upper torso flexing and pulling visibly as he moved. You hadn't expected him to still be shirtless after his shower, but he was wearing nothing but his sweatpants that were currently hanging low on his hips. His hair was still damp and clinging to his forehead, too.

Blinking hard, you tried to ignore the pleasant shock at finding Matt shirtless, damp, and doing the dishes. Though admittedly the sight had raised your body temperature just a bit, and judging by the cocky smile that slipped onto Matt’s face before he turned and headed over to the shelf to put away the plates in his hands, he’d noticed. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus back on your task of working on the grocery list for the week.

“Is there uh, anything else you would like me to pick up?” you asked. 

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I would like,” Matt teased, turning back around to face you.

You swallowed hard, your eyes once again drawn up towards him from the phone you held in your hand. He was grinning back at you with a devious look in his eyes. Your mouth felt like it was going dry at the sight of him just standing there half-dressed in the kitchen. Internally you chastised yourself, because watching Matt put away a load of clean dishes with his shirt off and his hair damp shouldn’t have had this much of an effect on you, but it fucking did. And his usual teasing wasn’t helping at all. 

“You–you, uh…” you began, but you quickly trailed off.

It was hard trying to focus on your words when your eyes were glued to his defined and toned chest as he made his way back to the dishwasher. Your eyes followed his movements as he bent over, intentionally turning so his ass was pointed straight at you. You watched as the fabric of his sweatpants pulled taut over it as he closed the dishwasher. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus again as he slowly rose back to his full height.

“I mean was there, uh something? You–you wanted?” you asked slightly breathless.

He chuckled, turning back towards you and leaning his arms over the kitchen countertop as his attention fixed on you. His head was tilted just a bit to the side, an amused smirk on his beautiful mouth.

“Trail mix, remember?” he replied, all faux innocence. “You know I love when you make it, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you said a little nervously, nodding as you glanced back down at your phone. “I’ll uh, I’ll add it to the list.”

Your fingers flew across the keypad on your phone as you added each ingredient of the trail mix Matt loved so much to the list. Though your fingers slowed their typing when you saw Matt push off of the countertop out of your peripheral. He was gradually making his way out of the kitchen and over towards you, your heart beating a little harder with each step he neared. Apparently it didn’t matter that you’d both just had sex yesterday afternoon after your nap because you found yourself quickly distracted from your typing because of his presence.

Matt stopped just in front of you, that cocky smile still on his face. He reached out and grabbed your phone, slowly sliding it out of your grip. You stood there dumbfounded, watching as he turned and effortlessly tossed your phone onto the kitchen table just to the side of him. When he turned back around, he placed one hand on either side of the leather couch, boxing you in between his arms. 

“Something on your mind besides the grocery list, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“What? No, I was just focused on getting the–the list together,” you replied quickly.

Matt shook his head, leaning forward towards your ear and whispering, “ Lie .”

You licked your lips, your eyes focused on his own lips with him suddenly standing so close to you. The hot breath from his mouth kept washing over yours as he continued to gaze down at you with that darkened, hungry stare of his.

“Well, I mean I was trying to focus on the list,” you conceded awkwardly, “but then you’re–you’re over in the kitchen making dishes somehow look weirdly sexy.” With a hard swallow you added, “And honestly that’s not fair, Matt. Putting away clean plates shouldn’t look so good.”

Matt’s bottom lip slipped between his teeth as he grinned back at you in amusement. The sight alone of him shirtless like that, so close to you while he caged you between those powerful arms of his, had you wanting to lunge at him. To crush your mouth to his and beg him to fuck you. You did your best to refrain though.

“I could tell you were enjoying yourself,” he teased. “But it seems now you might need a little–” he paused, leaning over to whisper in your ear again, “– help before you go to the store.”

Eyes widening back at him, you were about to open your mouth and respond, but then he abruptly turned his face towards yours and dove forward, pressing his lips to yours. Taken by surprise, it took you a moment to react. But when his teeth bit gently down onto your lower lip and tugged, your hands flew up and grabbed onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his bare skin. 

Matt grunted in response before he released your lip, his hands landing on your hips and gripping them firmly. Effortlessly he spun you around, your back now facing him as your own hands flew out, grasping onto the back of the couch to balance yourself at the unexpected movement. Looking at Matt over your shoulder, you spotted that lustful look spread across his face. 

“What’re you doing, Matty?” you asked curiously.

He pressed himself to the back of you and you immediately felt his half-hard cock against your ass. Your cunt clenched tight around nothing instantly and his fingers dug into your hips over your shirt as if he knew.

“Bend over, sweetheart,” Matt ordered. “Bend over the couch, for me.”

Inhaling a shaky breath, your attention returned to the couch before you. Slowly you leaned over it, the backrest pressing against your abdomen. You rested your hands on a cushion, trying to hold yourself up. Seconds later you felt Matt’s arms wrap around your waist, his fingers deftly undoing the button of your jeans before lowering your zipper. Soon after, he was tugging your pants and underwear down your thighs and then slipping them entirely off of you. Goosebumps rose along your now bare lower half just before you felt Matt’s rough, warm hands lovingly smoothing their way along the backs of your thighs. 

“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” Matt asked from just behind you. 

One of his hands made their way between your thighs, lightly teasing a finger between your dampening folds. Your hips twitched in response, your body instinctively asking him for more. Matt hummed out a pleased noise.

“I”ll never have enough of you,” you whispered back.

“That’s my girl,” Matt praised quietly.

The pad of his index finger began rubbing gently against your clit, the sensation immediately causing your eyes to snap shut. You were vaguely aware of his other hand leaving your thigh, your focus mainly on what his fingers were doing to you. But soon you felt the telltale weight of Matt’s cock landing against your ass and you gasped in delighted surprise.

“Should I fuck you before you go to the store, sweetheart?” Matt asked. “Would you like that? For me to fill you with my cum before you pick up the groceries for our place?”

You whined in response, desperately trying to press yourself back into him the best you could in this position. Because yes, you absolutely wanted that. To feel the pleasant ache of your cunt after he’d fucked you so thoroughly while you wandered the produce aisle. Having the memory of his hands and his mouth on you like a brand against your skin as you filled the cart with the groceries you’d both be sharing this week. Something about that had you dying to feel him inside of you, filling you so well like he always did.

“Yes, Matty, please,” you whimpered. 

Both of his hands grasped onto your thighs, sliding you a little more forward over the couch. You instantly sunk down onto your forearms along the couch cushion before you, your head turning over your shoulder to where he was standing behind you. From what you could see of Matt, he’d pushed his sweatpants and boxers partway down his thighs. Your eyes lingered on his face and the way his brows were pinched together, his nostrils flaring as he swiped his cock back and forth between the slick that had very quickly accumulated between your folds. He looked absolutely pleased as he did, his tongue darting out for a moment to dampen his lips.

Soon you felt him lining himself up with your entrance, and when just the tip of him gradually entered you, you gasped out. Head falling forward, it dropped between your shoulders as you felt Matt continue to slowly ease himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed, entirely filling you up. With your hips a bit higher above you, raised by the backrest of the leather couch that you were draped over, you wrapped your legs around Matt’s waist to help balance yourself. 

Still fully sheathed inside of you, Matt just held himself there. He didn’t make any attempt to fuck you at all. It was a moment before you became desperate for more, your hips squirming needily as you made a noise of frustration. Matt’s right hand continued to grip your right thigh as his left hand began gliding back and forth along your lower back. The feel of it sent a shudder through you.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he asked.

“ Yes ,” you begged.

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, clearly pleased at how badly you already needed him. “Then you’re going to have to fuck yourself on my cock, sweet girl.”

You perked up at his words, your head slightly raising at what he’d just said. A rumbling chuckle fell out of him behind you at your reaction.

“Go on, sweetie,” he urged huskily. “Use me. Fair is fair, right?”

For a moment you were stunned, continuing to lay immobile in the position you were in over the back of the couch. But you quickly found yourself becoming impatient, wanting more than just the fullness of him inside of you. 

Slowly you began to move your hips, arching your back just enough until you felt Matt's cock almost slipping out. You rolled your hips roughly back into him, taking him fully inside of you in one swift, delicious movement. A soft cry of pleasure flew out of you at the feel as you did it again, quickly increasing your pace as your breath came in sharper. You heard Matt moan behind you, both of his hands firmly gripping your thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, his own breaths growing ragged. "Take what you need, sweet girl. I'm all yours."

Monday 

Matt was exhausted as he stood in the elevator waiting for it to slowly ascend to the top floor of his apartment building. He absently twirled his cane between both hands, his posture reflecting just how tired he was as his shoulders slumped forward a bit. His focus was admittedly not even on the space around him, but on you up in the apartment as he waited.

He’d told you that he’d be home late this evening because he, Foggy, and Karen had been working on a case. The three of them had been close to finally finding the break they needed and none of them had wanted to stop until they’d found it. Truthfully he’d expected it to take longer than it had, so Matt had given you a later time to expect him home and begged you not to wait for him for dinner. But thankfully they’d finished a little bit ago and Matt hadn’t wanted to linger around the office afterwards. Figuring he’d surprise you at home a little earlier than intended, he hadn’t given you a call to let you know he was on his way back when he’d left.

Which was why he was delighted to hear you were up in the apartment making dinner. And by the sounds of what he could hear–the pop music you were currently blaring on your phone in conjunction with your slightly elevated heart rate–you must have been dancing while you were cooking. Probably because you’d thought he wasn’t around to ‘see’ you doing it.

He grinned at that thought, wondering how adorably embarrassed you might become when he came through the front door and surprised you. He even had already thought of a way to tease you, hoping to hear your heart beat erratically in your chest and to feel the heat of your cheeks as you flushed. He would never stop loving the way your body reacted to him.

And over the past few days, Matt had absolutely loved having you at what had now become both of yours’ place, watching as you slowly began to settle in and grow comfortable in the space. Besides the fact that it seemed like your sex lives had become somehow even more active than before, he’d loved the little moments with you. Making dinner together over the weekend before cleaning up the dishes, playfully teasing each other and sharing lingering touches while you did. He loved coming back from his nights out as Daredevil to you curled up on the sofa wrapped in his blanket waiting for him. Both times when he had come back he’d hurried over to you, excitedly kissing you before he quickly stripped out of the suit so he could cuddle up with you for a few minutes before he carried you off to bed. 

And now he was coming home to you after a stressful day at work, excited that you were already here–and making dinner for the both of you. It thrilled Matt to know that you didn’t have to rush back to your apartment for anything ever again. Because you were always here with him. At home. And that thought had his own heart beating a little harder.

When the elevator doors opened, Matt didn’t hesitate to make his exit. His cane tapping along the floor, he made the familiar trek down the hallway back towards his apartment, a wide grin on his face as he focused on you inside. It smelled like you were making spaghetti and Matt’s stomach growled; he hadn’t really ate much for lunch earlier today, having been too busy with the case. He certainly was grateful you were making dinner.

Reaching the apartment door, he opened it, not surprised to find it unlocked despite how many times he’d told you to lock it when he wasn’t home. The grin briefly faltered on his face–he’d have to remind you about that again . But as he pushed the door open, he was immediately hit with the overpowering smell of your pheromones. It was so thick in the air that Matt had paused, frozen entirely on the spot just in the hallway.

Because of course with your elevated heart rate in a hot kitchen you’d be sweating just a bit, which in turn would increase your pheromones. It made sense. You were cooking pasta sauce on the stove, a pot of water boiling beside it, and it felt like you had the oven on. And you were, in fact, dancing in the kitchen. Which initially he’d found sweet and endearing, but with the scent of your pheromones heavy in the air and the sexual lyrics coming out of your phone, the way your hips were shaking in the kitchen right now had suddenly become something else to Matt.

Stepping into the apartment, he closed the door behind himself and made sure to lock it. He hung his cane up on the hook nearby first, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he heard the shift in the air around you in the kitchen. God, the way you were moving your hips with your lip caught between your teeth was drawing forth a reaction from himself that he had not anticipated. 

Quickly slipping out of his shoes, he stuffed them under the nearby bench before he briskly made his way down the entryway hall. Considering you weren’t expecting him home yet, your music was fairly loud, and you were currently focused on the stove as you continued to dance, you hadn’t noticed him come in. Matt wasn’t surprised by that.

And he didn’t want to alert you to his presence quite yet either. He wanted to continue to enjoy the seductive way you were moving without you noticing him for just a bit longer. He figured this wasn't something he would get to witness often. 

Slowly he slipped the strap of his briefcase over his head before tossing it onto the sofa, his focus never wavering from you. He made his way over to the kitchen, pausing just in the entrance of it. Closing his eyes, Matt stood there and allowed himself to feel the movements you were making through the currents of air around him. Each shake of your hips or slide of your hands through your hair slightly shifted the air around him and it was somehow quickly making him hard. The delicious and sweet scent of your pheromones filling his nose only further fueled his own increasing need, his dress pants gradually becoming uncomfortable.

Goddammit, you were sexy.

He’d already fucked you this morning in the shower and twice yesterday–once before you left for the grocery store and then another time before you’d both gone to sleep after he’d returned home from his night out as Daredevil. Yet for some goddamn reason it felt like he was in need of you again. Longing for you. Hungry for you.

Matt’s teeth ground together, no longer able to resist the call of your body. Crossing the distance between the pair of you, he came up behind you and carefully wrapped his arms around your waist. He felt you startle in his hold, your pulse jumping in brief shock as your head abruptly turned. You’d stopped dancing, though you’d calmed a bit when you’d realized it was him.

“Shit, Matt,” you breathed out, a hand landing over your thundering heart. “You really do need to start wearing a bell. You scared me half to death. Wasn’t expecting you back for another hour.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. “I couldn’t resist.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion in your tone.

Matt’s arms tightened around your waist, his mouth lingering beside your ear. He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling back as he picked up on the faintest hint of your arousal peaking through the smell of your pheromones. 

You’d often joked that his cocky teasing and his insatiable sexual appetite would be the death of you. But right now, it felt like you were going to be the death of him .

“Don’t stop,” he whispered into your ear. 

He felt the exact moment you realized what he meant. Embarrassment did in fact flood your body, heating your cheeks as you tried to pull away from him. Matt only tightened his hold around you.

“ Matt !” you shrieked. “You were watching me?”

It was the response he’d been intending to pull from you when he was in the elevator. He loved your usual adorable shriek of embarrassment which he’d generally follow up with a cocky, smartass teasing remark. And he’d had one ready, too, until he’d opened the apartment door and been bombarded by your pheromones. Now all he wanted was for you to keep rhythmically moving your hips–preferably against his face with no fabric blocking you from his mouth.

“Your pheromones are everywhere,” he told you. “Wasn’t expecting that. Just wanted to come home early and surprise you.” 

One of his hands slid down your front, cupping you over your cotton shorts. He felt the slight jolt from your body at the sudden contact, but he could feel your blood rushing southwards towards his hand. You were enjoying him touching you like this.

“Don’t stop,” he repeated.

"Matt, I'm not–"

You stopped mid-sentence when his mouth landed on the space between your neck and your shoulder. He purred in satisfaction at the taste of you mixed with the faint taste of the pasta sauce you'd been cooking. His hand began gradually rubbing you over your shorts, his other one trying to encourage the sway of your hips against him. 

"Matt, the food," you protested weakly.

He released your hip long enough to turn both burners off on the stove. He broke away from your neck just long enough to whisper, "Dinner can wait."

It was a moment before he felt you finally give in. Gradually your hips began to move, almost timidly at first, and Matt pressed himself into you from behind with a low, rumbling growl of satisfaction. He began to lightly nip at the skin of your neck, his own hips moving in tandem with the sensual sway of yours. He was quickly losing all ability to control himself though, his hand still rubbing at you over your shorts as he continued to grind himself against your ass.

"I want to taste you," he said.

" Matt ," you whispered, his name a mix of a moan and a reprimand. 

His hand stopped its movement against you over your shorts, sliding its way up towards your other hip. He grinned in smug satisfaction against your neck when he caught the incredibly faint whimper that vibrated in your throat, the noise not quite leaving your mouth in response to the absence of his touch. You clearly wanted this, too.

His hands abruptly spun you around until he had you facing himself. Still grasping tight to your hips, he continued to encourage the sensual sway of them against himself as he began to walk you backwards through the kitchen and away from the hot stove. As he moved, Matt's mouth crashed down onto yours in a frenzied kiss–you tasted like coffee and strawberries for some reason and it only had him frantically trying to taste more. 

Matt didn't stop walking you backwards until he'd accidentally backed you right into the fridge. Your mouth broke away from his quickly, expelling a soft gasp of surprise at the impact.

He felt your hands slide their way up his chest, clutching eagerly at his shoulders and rumpling his dress shirt between your fingers. Your breath was shallow and sharp, your heart loudly thrumming in your chest. Matt could feel the increase of your body temperature, the smell of your arousal clouding his mind as he heard your head fall back against the fridge. Your body clearly wanted a release, which countered what you said next.

"Matt, I don't think I can take another round of sex," you whispered. "I'm still sore from this morning. And literally all of the other times the past few days."

He leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your lips. When he broke away, Matt gradually kneeled down to the floor before you, his hands caressing the bare bit of your thighs that your shorts didn’t cover. He felt the prickle of goosebumps rise along your skin under his hands. He could also hear the pounding of your pulse in the artery along your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal strong beside his nose. 

He wanted you so damn bad right now. But he would never make you do anything.

Exhaling a sharp breath, he rested his forehead against your left thigh. "We don't have to do that," he replied quietly. "I just want to taste you. And I can be gentle, sweetheart." He leant forward, placing a kiss to your thigh and feeling the muscle twitch beneath his lips. "But you can say no. You can always say no."

Your hand was suddenly running through his hair, slow and tender. His eyelids lowered, lips parting as he let the taste of you in the air coat his tongue. A rumbling groan rolled its way up from his chest, the sound mingling with the music from your phone in the kitchen as your other hand began massaging his scalp, too. The feel of your hands on him wasn't helping the throbbing of his cock in his dress pants.

“If you have me, then I get to have you,” he heard you breathe out above him.

“ Fuck, sweetheart, ” Matt moaned.

His mouth opened, teeth lightly nipping at your thigh as his eyes clenched shut. Matt didn’t know how he’d gone so long without having you in his life. Foggy wasn’t wrong when he’d joked the other week saying that you had tamed the Devil–because like hell if he wouldn’t fall on his knees and worship you every chance he got. 

Releasing your thigh from his teeth, his hands made their way up towards the top of your shorts. Curling his fingers into the waistbands of both articles of clothing, he yanked down the shorts and your underwear in one swift movement, grinning when he heard your surprised gasp.

“Only if I get to have you first,” Matt purred out.

He tossed your clothes somewhere behind himself in the kitchen before gliding a hand up your thigh and towards your soaked folds. Humming in satisfaction, he ran a couple of fingers between them, coating them with your slick. You were so incredibly wet for him already. 

He slid a finger up towards your clit, catching the slight sigh that left your lips when the pad of his index finger gently grazed it. For a moment his eyes closed, reveling in the quiet, content noises you and your body made as he alternated his focus between lightly stimulating that sensitive bundle of nerves and teasing your soaked entrance, loving the way your back arched off of the fridge each time. One of your hands had fallen down to grip his shoulder, the other still lightly massaging his scalp as he continued to pleasure you–and like hell if it wasn’t only further stimulating him in return.

Eventually teasing you got to be far too much for Matt. With his left hand still massaging your right thigh, his other hand left your clit and instead reached down, gripping onto your calf. Abruptly he lifted it from the ground, grinning up at you when your hand roughly gripped his shoulder to balance yourself, a surprised yelp falling out of you. He raised your leg as high as he heard your body would comfortably let him, pinning it against the cold metal of the fridge door behind you. He heard the sound of your mouth opening, probably about to protest, but he immediately dove forward, swiping the flat of his tongue up the length of you. Instead of words, you released an indistinguishable noise of pleasure that had the smug grin returning to his lips. 

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, head nodding quickly.

He heard the way your head fell back against the fridge with a soft thud after. Matt slid his tongue over you again, his eyes falling shut as he savored the taste of your slick on his tongue. Letting it linger in his mouth for a moment, he reveled in the heady, delicious taste of you before he finally swallowed it down with a throaty groan that had your fingers curling tighter in his hair. 

“I’m going to have my fill of you,” Matt breathed out, his face turning up towards where you were above him as he sent you a devilish smile. “And I want you to ride my face as hard as you want. You hear me?”

He heard the stutter of your heart in response to his demand before you cursed under your breath.

“Fuck, Matt,” you whined.

“Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head as he lowered his face back towards your cunt before him. “Thought we couldn’t do that tonight?”

He chuckled as he heard you call him a smartass, but you didn’t remotely complain when he dove forward again, this time lapping at your entrance before slipping his tongue inside of you. All the while he held your right leg up against the refrigerator door in a firm grip, grinning when he felt it beginning to tremble as you began rhythmically grinding your cunt against his face. He intentionally pressed his nose against your clit, his mouth spurred on by the loud moans flying out of you and merging with the music still playing on your phone.

He was definitely going to have his fill of you tonight.

Tuesday 

Needing to catch up on laundry after you'd come home from work, you'd decided to skip making dinner tonight, figuring you and Matt could order something instead. You'd sent him a text earlier letting him know your plan before throwing a load of clothes into the washer. Matt had shown up from work shortly after, just when you'd managed to gather everything out of the dryer that neither of you had had the energy to deal with the past couple of days.

Now the pair of you were on opposite sides of the bed from each other, both focused on sorting out the last bit of laundry from the laundry basket on the mattress between the pair of you. You reached your hand in, pulling out another pair of your socks from the basket before you sorted them together along the bed. 

“I believe these are yours,” Matt’s playful tone cut through the silence.

You glanced up from your pile of socks at his voice, catching him holding a pair of your black, silk panties in his hands. He had a mischievous look on his face as he held them up, his fingers rubbing the fabric back and forth between them. They were definitely not your everyday underwear. Rolling your eyes at Matt, you reached a hand out to take them from him, but he immediately drew his hand back from your reach, a wide grin forming on his lips.

“On second thought, I don’t know if I’m quite done with these yet,” he teased.

“Matt, those are clean and I’d like them to stay that way for right now,” you said.

“Does that mean I can dirty up the ones you’re wearing now, then?” he asked, his head tilting to the side as his eyebrows rose up onto his forehead.

You gaped back at him, shock written across your face. “What?” you asked.

He held out the silk panties to you and you snatched them from his hand before he could pull them out of your reach again. Matt chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused that he’d riled you up a little. You watched as he reached into the almost empty laundry basket, pulling out another pair of his black boxers.

“If those are clean and I can’t dirty them up,” he began, “then it stands to reason that I can dirty up the underwear you’ve got on now.”

You reached into the basket, pulling out the last two pieces of clothing as you made a face. “Do I want to know what you mean by that?” you asked him. “Because I’m guessing you mean something sexual by that.”

“I definitely mean something sexual by that,” he answered you.

With a sigh you glanced up at Matt, raising a single brow at him. He picked up his neatly folded pile of black boxers, shooting you a cheeky smile from the otherside of the bed. 

“ How do you still want to have sex?” you asked him in astonishment. “Do you have a secret stash of performance pills around here somewhere?”

A bark of laughter flew out of Matt as he turned, making his way over to the dresser. You picked up some of your own neatly folded laundry, making your way to the dresser beside him to put them away.

“Oh sweetheart,” Matt purred, leaning over towards you when you were standing next to him, “I think we both know I don’t need any help in the bedroom.”

You felt your cheeks heat as you slid your clothes into the drawer before making your way back to the bed. Picking up the stack of your bras, you teased back, “Maybe you need help getting out of the bedroom.”

Matt laughed again, passing you on your way to the dresser as he made his way back to the bed to grab his stack of clean socks. 

“Pretty sure we’ve gotten out of the bedroom often in the past few days,” he joked back.

“Oh my God, Matt,” you said with a grin, rolling your eyes again as you put away your bras. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he returned to the dresser. He slipped his socks into the open drawer beside you, an amused smile on his lips. Closing the drawer you had open, you turned and rested your hip against the dresser, eyeing him curiously.

“What’s with all the sex though?” you asked him. 

Matt closed his drawer, turning and copying your body language as he leaned against the dresser, too. One of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead as he gazed back at you, his eyes landing on your chin. There was a cocky expression on his face that was only growing the longer he stared at you.

“You tell me,” he said. “I seem to recall someone getting turned on by me just innocently doing dishes the other day.”

“Okay, well you’re apparently turning into a horn dog over laundry ,” you shot back.

“Well in all fairness,” Matt began, “your scent has officially blended with mine here. Probably not something I imagine you can pick up on, but I can. And I like it.” 

He reached a hand out, grabbing onto your hip. You stiffened when his thumb slipped under your shirt, brushing back and forth along your skin.

“I like it a lot," he said huskily.

Drawing in a deep breath, you tried to focus the topic on something besides sex for the evening. Though the growing hunger in Matt’s eyes was making that difficult. 

"We should probably order dinner," you told him, clearing your throat. "Is there something you want?"

"You," he purred, a devilish smirk on his lips.

His whole hand slipped under your shirt next, the warmth of it hard to ignore as his palm slid up along your ribcage. Matt continued to stand there, leaning against the dresser and smirking back at you. He knew damn well what he was doing to you and he was doing it on purpose. It wasn't long before you began to feel that all too familiar urge to wipe the smirk off of his face growing within you.

A slow, sinful smile gradually drew itself across your lips as you stared back at him. You watched the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously at you in return, his head tilting to the side. The smirk on his face faltered a little.

"You want me, Matt?" you asked innocently.

Your hand landed on his forearm, your fingers lightly running along the dark hairs there. His hand gripped your ribcage under your shirt instantly in response. 

"Yes," he answered carefully. "But clearly you have something in mind."

"Well," you began slowly, "if you want me, then I think maybe tonight you should have to follow my rules, Matthew." You grabbed onto his thick forearm and tugged it out from underneath your shirt. "And the first rule is no touching me."

His lips parted in surprise as he stared back at you in stunned silence. You lowered Matt's hand to his side, the sly smile still on your mouth at how fast that smirk had just vanished from his.

“Sound like a game you want to play, Matty?” you questioned him.

"What's the second rule?" he asked huskily.

A thrill shot through you. You'd never done this with Matt before, but the thought of having power over him in a completely new way had you feeling smug for once. Because he was always teasing you, always riling you up. Hell, living with him was like constantly being teased by him, especially with the way this first week had gone so far. Seeing him everywhere you looked–seeing your lives blended together–had you constantly wanting him this week.

Enjoying the way he was quietly waiting on you to answer, your hands reached out and grabbed onto the knot of his tie, yanking him towards you. Your smile grew wider when he willingly stumbled forward a step.

"The second rule is that you only cum when I say you can," you told him, undoing the knot of his tie with your fingers. "Since you do that to me so often, I think it's about time I do it back to you."

Slowly you slipped his tie out from underneath his shirt collar, enjoying the way you saw his throat bob when he roughly swallowed at your words. Eyes glancing down, you saw the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides. Clearly you were having an effect on him already and that went straight to your cunt.

"What do you say, Matty?" you asked coyly, hands beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You still want me?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. 

Another little thrill shot through you at how fast he'd answered. You might enjoy this more than you'd initially thought. 

"Get undressed and get on the bed then," you ordered him.

Your hands grabbed onto the hem of your shirt as Matt’s hands replaced yours on his buttons. His fingers deftly flew through each one, undoing them with such speed that you found yourself impressed. You were barely sliding your cotton shorts down your legs when you saw Matt making his way back to the bed, tossing the laundry basket haphazardly onto the floor and out of the way before he climbed up onto it. 

Eyes following his movements, you watched as he sunk down onto his knees. His gaze was very intensely on you, his eyes focused along your chest as if he was tuned into your heartbeat. Chewing your lip, your eyes dropped down to his hardening cock that was expectantly waiting for you. Matt’s voice suddenly popped into your mind and you remembered all of those times that he’d taken control in the bedroom with you–ordering you around–and an idea quickly came to you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your head canted to the side. “Touch yourself for me, Matty,” you ordered.

You grinned when you saw his eyebrows shoot up onto his forehead in surprise yet again, the corners of his own lips curling upwards at your boldness. Tonight you were certainly being far more brazen with him than you ever had been before. But watching as he grabbed his cock in his hand, beginning to stroke himself while he still focused on you, was definitely worth stepping out of your comfort zone for. Because it was certainly a mental image you were going to store away for later.

Except, he looked far too cocky right now on the bed. That smirk was back on his lips and you were determined to knock it off of him tonight. Eyes narrowing back at him, you uncrossed your arms, one hand slowly sliding its way down your stomach and towards your clit. A burst of pleasure raced through you the moment you began circling the sensitive bud, a soft moan leaving you. Matt’s smirk slowly faded from his mouth as his hand stuttered to a halt along his cock.

“I didn’t say stop, Matty,” you reminded him.

He audibly sucked in a sharp breath, his hand gradually continuing its movement. Biting your lip, you slid two fingers further downward, dipping them into yourself with a wet sound that you knew was loud enough for his ears to catch by the way his eyes clamped shut. 

“You smell so good ,” he whispered.

"Do I?" you breathed out, slowly sliding your fingers in and out of yourself. “Someone want a taste?” you asked coyly, sliding your fingers back out.

“Yes– fuck . Please, yes,” he begged, his chest beginning to heave.

Crossing your way towards the bed, you slowly held out your hand towards him. Matt’s lips parted expectantly, his head turning up towards you. Instead you grabbed him by the chin with your fingers, hearing the slight whine he emitted just before you leaned in to kiss him. 

You assumed the scent of your arousal along his chin–with you denying him the taste of it on his tongue–had driven him further into a frenzy. He began fiercely kissing you, his lips ravenously connecting to yours over and over as he practically growled against your mouth. His teeth were biting and pulling against your bottom lip, his hand working himself even faster. The sight of his urgent desire for you drew out a low moan from within your own chest. 

Releasing his chin, you straightened beside the bed. With another rumbling growl, Matt’s free hand released the tight grip he’d had on the silk sheets and flew out towards your hip, but you immediately shifted to the side just as he’d remembered the rule you’d given him. His hand hung there in the air just inches from your waist, a frustrated noise coming from Matt.

“You know, for someone who likes to tease excessively, you sure can’t handle much of it in return,” you pointed out.

Matt grunted in response, his hand halting its movements on his cock. You could already see the glisten of pre-cum on his fingers, but you refrained from saying anything about him not following directions because you caught the abrupt shift in his demeanor to something…else.

“Because I’m aware of vastly more going on with your body than you are of mine,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Takes far more control than you think for me to not touch you right now. You know I love when you let loose with me, sweetheart. And this is…the most comfortable you’ve ever been with me. But it’s also so–” he rumbled a noise in his chest that sounded like the Devil growling now, “– tempting not to listen to you.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words and his tone of voice. One of these days you would be tempted yourself to see what happened if you pushed the Devil just far enough. But tonight was not the night for that.

“I’ll show you some mercy tonight,” you conceded. “But the rules still stand: you still can’t touch me and you still can’t cum until I give you permission. Think you can handle that much, Devil?”

Matt’s eyes narrowed back at you, that dark look on his face still present. After a moment, he gave you a single nod.

“That’s my good Devil. Now lay down,” you ordered. 

Gradually Matt drew his legs out from underneath himself, slowly lowering onto his back on the bed as he continued to focus on you with that darkened expression. You delighted in watching his naked form as he moved, enjoying the movement of his muscles along his arms and abdomen visibly shifting. 

Matthew Murdock was unbelievably beautiful– especially naked and wound up.

“You’re enjoying this,” he rumbled out.

You climbed up onto the bed, throwing a leg over his hips so you were straddling him. Hands landing on his chest, you lightly scratched your nails upwards towards his shoulders and then gradually back down towards his hips. You saw the goosebumps raise along his skin as you did, his head rolling back just a bit along the pillow in pleasure as he moaned out.

“So are you,” you pointed out.

Reaching a hand down, you grabbed onto the base of Matt’s cock, grinning when you heard him groan at the touch. Carefully you lined him up with your entrance before very deliberately sinking down onto him, your eyes closing as your cunt stretched around his girth. Matt loosed a curse into the bedroom, your eyes opening in time to catch him roughly fisting the sheets in both of his large hands.

Leaning forward, your hands landed on his broad shoulders as your face hovered above his. His eyelids fluttered open, his eyes hooded with lust as they landed along your cheek.

“Be a good Devil for me now,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his lips lightly. “And I won’t make you wait too long to cum.”

“ Fucking hell ,” he growled. “Sweetheart, you’re going to regret– ahhh, fuck !”

Grinning at how he’d broken off mid-sentence when your hips slowly rocked against him, your nails bit into his shoulders. Setting a slow, delicious pace, you began to fuck Matt, a pleased hum leaving you at the feel of him inside of you. Matt's breath quickly came in short pants, a series of whimpers falling out of his lips. 

“So hard not to–to touch you,” he breathed out.

“You’re doing so good for me, Matty,” you praised.

Reaching a hand up, you stroked his cheek, enjoying the rasp of his beard against your fingers. Matt immediately nuzzled into your palm, pressing his cheek further into it as his brows pinched together. You continued rhythmically riding his cock at your leisurely pace, thumb stroking the length of his cheekbone. 

“You’re so beautiful, Matt,” you murmured.

A slow, euphoric smile slipped across his lips, his eyes opening as he focused around your face. “Getting a little–little sentimental on me right now, sweetie?” he panted out with an amused huff. “Already losing your edge?”

You shook your head, the grin still on your mouth. "Not a chance, Matthew," you assured him. "I still want to hear you beg."

Hips picking up their pace, you watched as his eyelids closed again. Your hand returned to his shoulder as you leaned in close to his ear, noticing the way he shuddered when your breath tickled his skin.

"Because I know how much you fall apart for praise," you whispered into his ear.

Beneath you, Matt's back arched off of the bed, his cock burying itself further into you as he did. With a soft gasp, your nails dug even further into his shoulders. Encouraged by your grip, Matt’s own hips began thrusting upwards into you, meeting your hips roughly and matching your pace.

"Mmm, that's my good Devil," you whispered into his ear. "But you're not cumming yet. I'm not quite done with you."

Matt loosed a loud groan through the bedroom at your words, his head once again rolling back along the pillow. His teeth ground together as he hissed out a sharp breath between them, his hips sharply fucking up into you so hard that your eyes briefly rolled back. 

You were definitely going to enjoy riling up the Devil tonight. 

Wednesday 

A loud crack of thunder rolled through the city, the sound echoing off the tall buildings and managing to cut straight through what had been a peaceful, deep sleep. Matt gradually grew alert on the bed, taking a moment to orient himself with his senses as he lay there. From the lack of extra noise among the tenants in his building, the quieter noises coming up from the streets of Hell’s Kitchen below, and your deep, even breaths beside him, he realized it was either still quite late or very early.

Outside the apartment, the rain soon came down against the windows in a steady, almost soothing downpour. The sound was somewhat relaxing–something akin to white noise–making it easier for Matt to ignore many of the extra noises of the city outside his apartment. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus back on falling asleep. Occasionally the rain felt like it had a dampening effect when he was in his apartment, which often helped lull Matt into a deeper sleep at night. Thunder, on the other hand, often disrupted it–as did the loud rumbling crack of another thunderous boom that roared through Hell’s Kitchen. 

Tuning into your body pressed to the front of him, Matt's tired mind tried to focus on the soft, rhythmic exhalations leaving you. Your heart was beating at a calm, level pace as you slept, the sound always a comfort to Matt. Readjusting his hold around your waist, he shifted along the back of you, drawing himself even closer to your warm, almost bare body. His head rested on the same pillow just behind yours, his mouth right above your shoulder. 

As he relaxed further into the mattress, trying to get comfortable while he focused on you instead of the storm, his lips accidentally brushed along your shoulder. Matt inhaled deeply, the scent of your peach shampoo and your soft skin filling his nose. The faint taste of just you lingered on his mouth from where his lips had just grazed you and he found his tongue drowsily slipping out to taste you from them again. He moaned quietly, the noise blending in with the sound of the rain outside. 

Leaning a bit forward, he placed a barely there kiss on the top of your shoulder. With his mouth lingering against your skin, Matt contentedly hummed out a faint pleased noise as something slowly stirred awake within himself. He never could seem to get over just how soft your skin was, or how intoxicating it was to taste. Whether it was the taste of your lips themselves, or the delicate skin of your neck, the soft swell of your breasts, the inviting expanse of your shoulders, or the delicious, addicting taste of your cunt, Matt could never get enough. He always was left wanting more of you. 

His arm unconsciously tightened around your waist, his hips pressing forward into you. His bare cock twitched awake as he slotted himself between the roundness of your ass, the silk of your underwear not as satisfying to him as just feeling you against his own skin. A rumbling noise vibrated in his throat as another crack of thunder rang through the bedroom.

Matt placed another kiss on your shoulder, his tongue slipping out to taste even more of you as he did. Briefly the thought flickered in his mind that he should stop. You both had work in the morning and he didn’t want either of you to be tired. There was a part of him that didn't want to wake you just because the storm had woken him. But the moment the tip of his tongue swiped along your skin and he caught the taste of you on it, his eyes clamped shut even tighter and a strangled whine left him. 

He needed you. 

Matt leaned further forward, his nose tracing up the length of your neck, his parted lips grazing your bare skin at the same time. He could feel you stirring awake beside him, your skin dotting with goosebumps beneath his hands. Your breath immediately hitched in your throat, your heart beat no longer steady and even but a sharp staccato in his ears as you gradually awoke. 

“Matt?” your sleep-riddled voice whispered out.

He almost purred at the sound of it. Your voice alone could do things to him, things he didn't quite understand himself. He nuzzled into your neck before placing an open-mouthed kiss along the skin there. He just needed more of you, especially after the frustrating night he'd had as the Devil earlier.

And then there it was–the faint scent of your arousal hitting his nose. A slow, satisfied smile crept its way along his lips. Without fail, he so easily always managed to turn you on. He would never tire of how your body reacted to him. 

"Matty, what're you–"

He sucked a patch of skin just beneath your jaw into his mouth, your question dying on your lips as you audibly inhaled a sharp breath. He felt your ass shift against his rapidly hardening cock, a quiet sigh falling out between your lips next. He released the skin from his mouth, his nose rubbing along the line of your jaw. One of Matt's hands released your waist, slowly sliding its way up your stomach and continuing further upwards.

"The storm woke me," he quietly explained, his large hand palming the soft mound of your breast. "Tried to focus on you to fall back asleep, but–" he inhaled the scent of your arousal in the air deeply, salivating at the faint taste of it in his mouth, "–you were distracting."

He felt both of your hands latch onto his wrists, felt the sting of your nails biting into his skin. A hiss of pleasure flew from him and he ground his aching cock back into your ass even more firmly. 

" Sweetheart ," he moaned, shifting so his mouth was beside your ear when he spoke next. "Your body is begging me," he whispered, enjoying the shudder that ran through you. "Can I have you? Please?"

"Baby," you whimpered, ass eagerly grinding back against him as you nodded along the pillow. "Yes, yes. Need you, Matty."

Without waiting for further encouragement, his fingers gently tugged at your nipple. You gasped in surprise, your nails further biting into his wrists. Further spurred on by the noises of pleasure coming from you, his other hand slid down from your waist, slipping past the waistband of your silk underwear. He immediately found his way between your folds, growling at how wet you already were when he touched you. 

"Oh, sweetheart ," he breathed out, running his two fingers back and forth between your slick. God, you were soaked already. "You want me this badly?"

He felt your head shift over your shoulder towards him, a desperate noise barely escaping you. It sounded like a muffled whine stuck in your throat and it had Matt's cock throbbing with need. 

"Yes, baby," you answered softly. "Always."

His teeth grit together at the term of endearment he usually only heard from you in moments like these. But the truth in your words had a sharp grunt barreling out of him as his two fingers made their way towards your clit. The moment he grazed it he felt your back arch against him, a little moan coming from you in response. 

"That feel good, sweetie?” he asked.

His lips began trailing slow, sweet kisses along your neck, his two fingers gently circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt another shudder shoot through your body, your breath catching yet again.

“Yes,” you whispered back. 

He felt one of your hands release its hold on his wrist, reaching back behind yourself and towards him. You managed to grab his bare ass and another whimper fell out of you. He smiled against your neck, running his nose back and forth against you when he felt you practically clawing at it as he continued the ministrations of his fingers along your clit. You really had a thing for his ass.

“ More ,” you begged.

His fingers slid down, teasing your soaked entrance. You whined and quickly shook your head. Matt’s brows knitted together in confusion. But then he felt your hand leave his ass, blindly finding its way to his cock. His hips twitched when your fingers curled around the girth of him, your head turning over your shoulder towards him again.

“I want you ,” you whispered.

You began stroking him, your arm twisted behind your back at an awkward angle as you did. Your hand felt so fucking good on him, but it wasn’t what he wanted to feel, either. He knew exactly what you’d meant. A rumbling noise left Matt, the sound of the storm outside entirely forgotten to him now as he focused solely on you. 

His fingers quickly slipped out of your underwear, sliding down the front of them until he hooked the damp fabric between his fingers and tugged it to the side. Your hand soon released him, flying out in front of yourself to grip a handful of the silk sheets. Behind you, Matt’s hand landed on your hips, shifting you where he needed you before he grasped onto the base of his cock and lined it up with your entrance. 

He heard the sharp inhale of your breath the moment the tip of him barely pushed into you. Your hips eagerly ground back against him, silently begging him to fill you. Without hesitation, Matt gradually plunged himself fully inside of your wet cunt, reveling in the delicious twitch of your muscles contracting all around him as you adjusted to fit him. His eyes fluttered closed, a low moan falling from his lips. You were so warm and wet and tight. 

You felt perfect .

Matt continued to knead the breast he’d had in his palm, his other hand making its gradual way back to where it had been working your clit. He heard you curse under your breath, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Knowing exactly what you’d wanted, his mouth landed on yours. While his hips set a rhythmic, steady pace as he pumped into you, his mouth placed soft, lingering kiss after soft, lingering kiss against yours. 

Eventually he heard the way your hand released the sheets you’d been gripping. Instead, he felt you turn at the waist as he continued to lovingly roll his hips forward into you over and over, your hand coming up to tenderly cup his cheek. Matt’s tongue slid along your bottom lip in a slow glide, a beautiful whine falling out of you in return and meeting his ears. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, lapping languorously against your own. 

And that was how the night carried on, with Matt’s hips sensually rolling forward into yours repeatedly as you eagerly tried to match his pace with your own hips, the pair of you attached at the mouth and panting heavily between kisses. The roll of thunder and steady patter of rain became nothing but muted background noise to Matt as he listened to every sound of pleasure coming from you.

Thursday 

You’d had a long week at the Bulletin and you were happy as hell that tomorrow was finally Friday. While things had been great between Matt and you this first week of living together–more than great when it came to your sex lives, and your aching cunt was proof of that–you’d still been stressed at work. There was a story you’d been struggling with writing and it had been frustrating you to no end for the past few days. Though admittedly, the constant sex with Matt this week had been helping you relieve your frustration when you were off of work, even if it was incredibly distracting. 

But he wasn’t home right now because he was out as Daredevil, scouring the rooftops and beating up bad guys this evening. Which was fine, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone out doing just that while you were together–certainly not the first time this week–and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. You'd quickly grown accustomed to his occasional absences in the evening, even if you still found yourself worrying about him.

A little while ago you had decided to put your laptop away, forget about work, and get cozy on the couch with one of your shows. Even though it was still strange being able to watch your shows on an actual television in Matt’s living room, you’d curled up under his plaid blanket and gotten comfortable. And that was where you'd remained the duration of the evening, waiting for his inevitable return.

You’d managed to get through a few episodes of the comedy you were watching before you finally heard the roof access door swing open. Instantly your head rose from the pillow you’d been resting on, glancing up at Matt’s Daredevil-clad form. You winced when he slammed the door shut behind himself, the loud noise reverberating around the apartment. Peeling his gloves from his hands, he aggressively stalked his way over to the stairs. His boots hit each step on his descent down them with a heavy thud . Absolutely everything about his body language told you that he’d had an awful night out as the Devil and he was internally fuming .

When he’d reached the last step, pulling the helmet from his head with one hand, you thought you might say something to him. Maybe ask if there was something you could do to help him relax. But the moment you’d opened your mouth, drawing in the slightest breath, Matt’s head snapped in your direction and you froze. His jaw was clenched and his eyes almost looked black. Your mouth immediately closed. Clearly, Matt was not in the mood for talking right now.

Settling back onto the couch, you watched as he made his way towards the closet behind the two armchairs to your left. He roughly yanked the doors open before opening the lid of his father’s steamer trunk. You heard the heavy drop of his gloves and his helmet, moments later hearing the sound of his billy clubs dropping into the trunk next. Silently you watched him kneel down, untying the laces of his boots one at a time. When he finished, both boots were gruffly disposed of into the trunk before he was standing back up, reaching for the zipper behind himself along his back.

Your eyes openly lingered on the gradual reveal of Matt’s muscled back as the zipper of his suit slowly exposed himself to you. He released the zipper once he’d undone the suit all the way down just to the top of his ass where you could see the waistband of his boxers peeking out. Biting your lip, you watched the muscles of his back flex and pull as he took a minute to slide one skin tight sleeve off of himself before removing the other. And then he bent over, his round, muscular ass directly in your line of sight as he slowly stripped the suit down each of his legs. Once he’d slipped the armor entirely off of himself, he was left in nothing but those tight, black boxers he always wore. 

You could feel yourself getting turned on despite how irritated he seemed. You couldn’t help but watch as he folded his suit up in obvious frustration before stuffing it in the steamer trunk. He slammed the lid of it down a bit harder than necessary before he rose to his now bare feet, shutting the doors to the closet. Afterwards, he turned swiftly towards you, his focus easily finding you on the couch where you suddenly stopped breathing under the weight of his stare. His entire body looked tense, his shoulders tight and the muscles twitching in his cheeks.

“I’m going to shower,” he stated simply.

He stood there a moment, running a hand across his forehead as he stared back at you. You only nodded, unable to trust your voice. Because he had to know you were aroused right now with his senses, but he must have had a bad enough night out as Daredevil that he hadn’t even remotely wanted to remark on it.

Wordlessly Matt stalked off down the hall to the bathroom, flipping on the light and closing the door partially behind himself. Seconds later you heard the shower turn on. You tried your best to ignore the thought of Matt naked and soon to be wet under the spray of water in the other room. Though admittedly trying to force your thoughts away from everything sexual that was running through your mind now wasn’t easy. Attention returning to the show you’d been watching, you readjusted yourself on the couch and made yourself comfortable all over again. 

Inevitably your gaze wandered back to the bathroom when you distinctly heard the glass door of the shower shut. Eyes narrowing, you stared at the light peaking through the crack of the bathroom door. Because why would Matt have turned the light on to shower? You knew he hated the buzz that lights emitted, and if he was frustrated, that extra noise would’ve only irritated him further. He had no use for the light anyway, he only ever turned lights on in a room when it was meant for your benefit.

It was a second before the realization hit you, your eyes growing wide. He definitely had noticed you were in the mood when he’d been stripping out of his suit, then. Turning the bathroom light on and keeping the door partially open must’ve been a sort of silent invitation for you. Maybe he’d been too riled up to use his words, or maybe…

Maybe Matt wanted something more than the sweet love making you both often had together. Maybe he wanted something even more than the naughty, playful sex, too. Maybe he needed something more tonight to relieve his frustration.

Something more like rough sex with a wound up and irritated Devil.

Because you knew Matt. And you knew he probably wouldn’t quite know how to verbalize what he wanted, let alone feel comfortable enough asking for that. He hated the thought of hurting you. But you’d encountered this with him a few times before, knowing that when he was this uptight returning from a patrol that hadn’t gone well as Daredevil, he usually needed a release. And he often enjoyed using you as that release–rather roughly, too.

Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you immediately sat upright on the couch. You were more than willing to let him fuck you. The thought of him loosing the Devil on you already had a dampness forming between your thighs. You loved the sharp, rough edges of Matt just as much as you loved the sensitive, soft sides. And it had been awhile since you’d seen the Devil make an appearance in your sex life.

Tossing the blanket off of yourself, you turned off the television and rose from the couch before making your way down the hall and towards the bathroom. You slowly pushed open the bathroom door, stepping inside. You could see him washing himself through the frosted glass of the shower doors, making no move to acknowledge that you were in the bathroom. But he obviously knew you were there–especially with how aroused you were and how much you’d come to learn this week that scent alone easily affected him. There was no way he couldn’t smell it.

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you slipped it up and over your head, your bare breasts exposed to the warm steam wafting through the bathroom as you tossed the article of clothing to the ground. Slipping your fingers inside both your sleep shorts and your underwear’s waistband, you slid them down your legs before they dropped to the floor. You stepped out of them, hesitantly making your way over to the shower before slowly sliding the glass door back.

You hesitated just outside of it, one hand lingering on the glass as Matt’s head once again abruptly snapped in your direction. He was standing under the spray of the water, his dark hair soaked and clinging to him. Your eyes followed a few beads of water as they raced down his scarred and toned chest, your pulse increasing at the sight. You could see the obvious tension in his muscles as you quietly took in the sight of him naked before you. 

“Do you…need some help coming down from tonight?” you asked him.

Your eyes caught the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, nostrils flaring as he expelled a sharp breath.

“Would that be too much?” he gruffly questioned back.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head as you finally stepped into the shower. “I love all the sides of you, Matthew. I’ve told you that before.”

You turned around, sliding the shower door closed after yourself as some of the warm spray overhead began to cascade down your back. A surprised gasp fell out of you when you felt Matt’s hands suddenly grabbing your hips, his fingers firmly digging into your skin. Even you felt the way your pulse stuttered in response, his chin hovering just over your left shoulder.

“Are you sure?” the dark, gravelly voice you knew as the Devil asked, his mouth just beside your ear. “Because I have no desire to be gentle tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You inhaled a deep breath, excitement shooting through you at his words and the tone he’d spoken them with. It had been far too long since he’d let himself loose with you like this. Turning your head just over your shoulder, you spotted the wild look in his eyes. That only thrilled you further.

“I’ve told you before, Matty,” you whispered back. “Sometimes I like when you hurt me.”

His fingers dug into your hips even further, his lip pulling back into something akin to an animalistic snarl. A second later he’d shoved you up against the shower door, the cold glass pressed entirely to the front of you a sharp contrast to the warm water falling down your body. You could feel the heat from Matt’s naked body radiating off of him with how close he was standing behind you now, but it wasn't quite close enough to touch yours.

“You can say no,” Matt’s deep voice reminded you.

Head still turned over your shoulder, your cheek pressed against the glass of the shower door, your eyes remained fixed on his face. 

“But I’m saying yes,” you whispered back.

A growl tore out of Matt as he yanked you away from the door, roughly turning you around towards himself before he slammed his mouth hard onto yours. His hands snaked their way around to your back, his blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he drew you in tight, crushing you to the front of himself. You could feel his already hard cock pressed between your slick bodies as his teeth gnashed at your bottom lip. A hiss of pleasure slipped from your mouth as your hands flew up, your own nails clawing at his thick biceps that held you firmly to him.

Matt’s mouth quickly retreated from yours, his teeth snapping at your earlobe before shifting downwards to your neck. As your head fell back over your shoulders, your eyes closing, you felt him nipping along the length of your collarbone. The sharpness of his bites was quickly soothed by the warm water running down the pair of you, Matt’s name slipping from between your lips as a moan. 

Matt responded instantly to the sound of it, quickly spinning you before slamming your back into the tile wall of the shower. His flushed face hovered just before yours, his chest heaving as he stared hungrily back at you. He looked absolutely wild with his dark gaze fixed along your cheek.

“You cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” he ordered, his eyebrows rising onto his forehead, a cocky smile on his face as he repeated to you what you'd said to him the other night. “And you don't touch yourself unless I say so. Am I clear?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly.

One of his hands shot out between the pair of you so fast that you didn’t realize he’d even moved until you felt him gripping you by the neck. His hold was just firm enough to put pressure on your throat, just enough without actually hurting you, as he pinned you to the wall. Your thighs clenched together, more wet heat building between them as you squirmed against the shower wall. You just wanted to feel him inside of you already.

“Use your words,” Matt demanded gruffly. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, Matt,” you answered immediately.

That smug smirk remained on his lips as he stared back at you pinned to the wall by your throat.  His tongue slipped out slow and purposeful between his lips, his eyes momentarily closing in pleasure. You heard a low, rumbling noise stir deep from within his chest.

“You really do like this, don’t you?” he asked, that low, gravely tone of the Devil slipping out as he opened his eyes. “You like it when I’m rough with you?”

His hand tightened a little further around your throat and your hips desperately ground forward, searching for him. He shifted just out of your reach and you whined in response. 

“Yes,” you answered him.

“You want my cock?” he asked next.

You nodded vigorously in response. “Yes, Matt, yes.”

That self-satisfied smirk drew itself across his lips once again, that dark look never leaving his face. “Then you’re going to beg me for it, sweetheart. Turn around,” he ordered.

He released his hold on your throat and you obediently spun on the spot. There was not a single thought in your mind besides how badly you wanted to feel him fucking you right now. Pressing the front of yourself to the shower wall, you looked over your shoulder at him behind you, waiting for instruction.

You saw Matt’s hand draw back just a bit before he swung it forward, the sharp crack of the slap he landed on your ass echoing through the shower. You could feel the desperate ache of your cunt begging for him to fill you as the sharp sting remained long after his palm had left your ass.

“Beg me to fuck you,” Matt ordered.

“Please, Matt,” you breathed out. “I’ve missed you all night. I was–was waiting for you to come home. Needed you.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

His hand drew back again before he landed another sharp slap against your ass. His palm lingered this time, briefly soothing the sting before he brutishly grabbed the soft mound of flesh and squeezed. Your eyes clamped shut, your ass pressing back into him in search of more.

“I need you,” you whined. “Need you to fill me, Matt. Fuck me until I can’t think–until I can’t walk.”

A pleased rumble sounded from him behind you, both of Matt’s hands playing with your ass he roughly kneaded the flesh between them. You could feel the slick steadily dripping down between your thighs now, your fingers uselessly gripping at the tile wall.

“Haven’t had enough of my cock?” he shot back. “Been fucking you all week and you still want more?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly. “Always want more. Always need you.”

Matt groaned loudly at your words, his hands sliding up from your ass to grip your hips. You felt him grind his hard cock against your ass and you soon realized how much he’d enjoyed hearing that.

“Please let me have you, Matt,” you begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “Please fuck me. I need you, baby. Need to feel you inside of me. No one–” a surprised gasp fell out of you as two of his fingers began teasing your entrance. “No one makes me feel as–as good as you do,” you panted out, eyes closing when he dipped his fingers inside of you.

“So wet for me,” he growled out. 

You felt him abruptly thrust both thick digits all the way into you and your forehead dropped forward against the shower wall. A cry slipped out of you as a warm wash of bliss flooded your body at finally receiving something from him. Matt’s mouth came down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking firmly into your skin as a snarl rippled out of him. There was nothing gentle about the way he continued fingering you against the tile wall, though. Every aggressive pump emitted a loud, squelching noise as your hands helplessly clawed at the tile, your ragged breaths loud in your own ears. Matt’s teeth released your shoulder a few moments later, his lips just grazing your earlobe.

“I didn’t say you could stop begging,” he reminded you. “And you aren’t cumming yet, sweetheart.”

His fingers slipped out of you and you whined instantly at the loss of contact. Your body aching with desire, you spun around to see Matt had backed away from you. Inevitably your eyes dropped down from the lustful expression on his face to the particular appendage you most desired. Tongue slipping out to wet your lips, you stared longingly at him.

“You want it?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Then show me,” the gravelly voice of the Devil demanded.

Taking a step towards him, you quickly sunk down to your knees on the wet floor before him. Without hesitation, you eagerly took him into your mouth, your nails running along his thighs as you did. One of Matt’s hands landed on the back of your head, fisting your hair firmly in his grip as he held on tight. His other hand roughly cupped a breast as he bent forward, firmly kneading the flesh in his hand. He loosed a loud moan that echoed in the shower, the warm spray falling over the pair of you as you vigorously sucked his cock. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your thighs together at the sound of his pleasure, your hips absently rocking as you searched for friction. But that only encouraged Matt’s grip to tighten on your hair.

“I told you that you cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” Matt warned. “Are you going to listen to me?”

You immediately stopped your movements, humming an affirmative noise in response that had Matt moaning out as it vibrated against his cock. You knew how much that affected him every time you did it. One well placed moan while he was in your mouth could have him cumming instantly. 

His grip eased on your hair. “That’s my good, sweet girl,” he praised. “Now show me how bad you want me.”

Friday

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Matt at the bedroom closet–and trying your best to ignore his distracting presence as he stood clad in nothing but a pair of his black boxers–you undid the top buttons of the blouse you were planning to wear to work, sliding it off the hanger. Beside you, Matt's hands slowly ran over the various tags on the different hangers of his suits. Your gaze flickered towards them at the movement, watching the way his fingers deliberately ran over the braille of each tag while he searched for the suit he was going to wear today. Every morning when he did this it always held your attention for far longer than necessary, and you swore he intentionally read slower because he knew. 

Your tongue slid out, wetting your lips as you blinked hard and forced yourself to tear your attention away from his hands. With a hard swallow, you tried to focus back on getting yourself ready for work. Putting your arms through the sleeves of your blouse, you shifted your attention downwards as you began buttoning it up. Though you'd barely buttoned a handful of buttons before you heard Matt huff out an amused breath beside you. 

Fingers pausing their movement, your gaze gradually slid up towards Matt's face. There was a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his dark blue dress shirt, his bottom half still clad in his black boxers as he stared back at you. Quirking a brow at him as he stood beside you, you had a feeling you knew what that look was about. 

"We can make time, sweetheart," Matt said, his gaze dropping down as he also began buttoning up his own shirt now. "I told you that earlier."

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes dropped down to his fingers, watching as they deftly slid a button through the hole in his shirt before they slowly shifted to the button above it, repeating the action. It was a moment before you realized your own fingers were still holding onto the button you’d stopped on of your blouse. Clearing your throat, you once again tore your eyes away from his hands, but you couldn't deny there was a part of you considering his offer now.

"I told you, I can't be late for work, Matt," you repeated for the fourth time this morning.

"There's been an attempted robbery near fifty-sixth and tenth," Matt informed you. "Police apprehended the suspect, but you could always use it as an excuse. Foot traffic is slowed because they’ve had to block off the area." He shrugged a shoulder. "Tell Ellison it slowed you down on your walk to work. That you were investigating for a possible story. He won't know you were actually late because we had sex."

"Matt," you whined, hands dropping to your sides as you turned completely towards him. "How are we going to ever accomplish anything living together if we can't keep our hands to ourselves for a single day?"

Matt chuckled, his hands falling from his own partially buttoned shirt as he copied your movements, turning and facing you. "I am absolutely not complaining about the increase in sex,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m serious, Matt,” you grumbled. “We need to figure out a way to take a bit of a breather.”

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one who woke up aroused,” Matt pointed out.

“Because you were humping my ass, Matt,” you countered.

“Because you were moaning my name in your sleep and literally dripping, sweetheart,” Matt snapped back. “You think it’s that easy for me to just ignore that?” He took a step towards you, towering above you with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “This whole place permanently smells like your pheromones and half the time it smells like your arousal when you’re just looking at me. I can barely breathe without getting turned on and wanting to fuck you.”

Something stirred within you at his words and that edge to his voice. It wasn’t fair that you found him sexy when he got irritated, but admittedly you hadn’t thought about how you living here would constantly affect him. You hadn’t thought about the way your scent would mix with his and turn him on–something he’d been telling you the other day–or how he’d often have to smell you aroused and have that scent lingering in the apartment all the time, too.

“You’re getting aroused right fucking now, too, I can smell you,” he pointed out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered automatically.

Matt’s expression fell instantly at the tone of your voice, the tension easing out of his shoulders as he ran a hand across his mouth. Shaking his head, he focused back on you. “Don’t–don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You’re right though,” you agreed. “You do pick up on all these other things that I don’t and I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you to not act on anything. Because I have a hard time refraining sometimes. And it–it doesn’t help that I love you and I just always want to be with you like that. And there’s the whole, you know, excitement of everything,” you admitted shyly.

A grin tentatively slipped back onto Matt’s face as he hummed out a curious noise. “Excitement of what, exactly, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“Of us living together,” you answered nervously. “Waking up and falling asleep next to you all of the time. Spending our evenings together. And our weekends. And–and what living together might mean for the future,” you added softly.

Matt’s hands reached out, smoothing the hair from your face before both of his large palms cradled it between his hands. He lowered his forehead towards yours, his eyes closing as he did.

“You’ve been thinking about the future?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you answered.

“And that’s also why you’re such a horn dog yourself this week?” he teased.

You couldn’t resist the snort of a laugh that fell out of you, Matt’s smile only widening on his face at the sound. 

“In very simple terms, yes,” you admitted, eyelids lowering as you felt his thumbs brushing back and forth along your cheeks. “But also, I’m not used to seeing you wander around fresh out of the shower performing domestic tasks. Honestly, the fact that you clean is a turn on in itself.”

“I see the bar isn’t very high for you,” Matt teased.

“I guess not,” you joked back.

Silence fell between the pair of you as you both stood there in front of the closet, Matt’s forehead still pressed to yours as his hands still cupped your cheeks. You became very aware of the increase in your pulse and the way Matt’s lips had parted, his hot breath rolling out of his mouth and landing against yours. Swallowing hard, your hands reached up, slowly grasping onto Matt’s forearms and rumpling the fabric of his dress shirt. Matt’s nose lightly bumped yours, the gesture causing your lips to involuntarily part. 

“I’m sorry for being an ass this morning,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “It just takes a lot to resist the pull I have for you.”

“I’m sorry for not initially being more understanding,” you murmured, hands sliding up to grip his biceps. “Didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to adjust to me being here.”

Matt’s lips connected to yours for a moment, lingering in a sweet kiss. Your grip tightened around his arms in response before he pulled away from you just a fraction.

“I love having you here,” he assured you. “Please don’t think otherwise.”

“I know,” you whispered, lips drawing into a smile. “You tell me that at least ten times a day, Matty.”

He leaned forward, placing a peck to your lips that had you giggling.

“Just want to make sure you know,” he replied.

“We uh, we do need to figure out the constantly being distracted by sex thing though,” you told him. “Because it’s–it’s getting a little out of hand.”

Matt hummed out a noise of agreement before he turned the pair of you just a bit to your left and began to walk you backwards. Your brows furrowed together as he did, watching as Matt’s lips drew into a playful smile. It was only a few steps before you felt your back hit the wall beside the closet. 

“We do need to figure that out,” Matt agreed huskily. 

His hands slid their way down your neck, continuing their descent over your exposed chest where your bra was on display because your blouse still remained unbuttoned, eventually making their way down to your hips. His face was hovering just a few inches from yours now, that familiar look of desire darkening his eyes as they stared hungrily back at you. 

“But maybe we can figure it out this weekend,” he suggested. “Because right now all I can think about is fucking you against this wall.”

As if to emphasize his point, his hips rutted forward into you with just enough force that your back hit the wall and a gasp slipped out of your lips. You’d certainly noticed how hard he was through his boxers and your eyelids fluttered shut as you whispered a curse. 

“Just be late for work this once,” he pleaded. “I’ll make it worth it.”

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth as Matt ground his hips forward into you again, you took a moment to consider his offer. Truthfully your cunt was sore from the use it had gotten this past week since you’d moved in with Matt, and even some of your muscles were sore from all of the different positions he had managed to contort you into throughout the week. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t mind going into work today and being this wound up the entire time, because you knew you’d be kicking yourself for not taking Matt up on his offer. 

Resigning yourself to the only outcome that you knew was going to come of this, you sighed and released your hold on Matt, unbuttoning your blouse as Matt flashed a triumphant smile back at you. His own hands were quick to undo the few buttons he had managed to button on his shirt.

“Just don’t make me so late that the robbery story won’t be believable, Matty,” you told him. “I don’t need your dick getting me fired.”

He laughed, pulling his dress shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind himself near the bed. “Noted, sweetheart,” he replied, sliding his boxers down his thighs.

You’d barely removed your own underwear, not even having a chance to undo your bra, before Matt had scooped you up in his arms and shoved you back into the wall. There was a devilish smile on his lips and a dark gleam in his eyes as he maneuvered you in his arms, freeing a hand to line his cock up with your cunt that admittedly had been soaked since you’d woken this morning. You moaned when the tip of him pushed into you, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

“That’s it,” Matt praised, gradually sinking you down onto his cock. “That’s my good, sweet girl. Let me make you feel good. You want that, don’t you?”

Your head rolled back against the wall, breath already coming in shallow. “Yes.” 

You felt the slow slide of his cock as he dragged himself almost entirely out of you, but then in one swift, powerful thrust, his hips snapped forward and his cock plunged all the way back into you. Your eyes clamped shut, a cry of pleasure tearing from you as he hit that spot deep inside, the delicious sting causing your walls to squeeze him. Matt groaned out, his hips slowly moving backwards before he roughly slammed into you again, your head lightly bumping back into the wall behind you.

“Want you to think about this later, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “When you’re stuck at work, frustrated over the story I know you’ve been stressed about.” 

He slammed himself back into you and you cried out again, goosebumps raising along your arms at the sound of his voice. Your hands slid up the back of Matt’s neck, making their way into his hair and gripping the strands roughly between your fingers.

“Just remember I’ll be here when you come home,” he grunted out, thrusting himself inside you again. “I’ll always be here.” 

“Fuck–Matty,” you whimpered out, back arching along the wall as his pace increased. “I love you.”

His eyes closing tightly shut at your words, his hips stuttered momentarily before he readjusted his grip on you. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to yours again, grunting with each sharp snap of his hips as he continued to fuck you.

“I love you, too,” he breathed out, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you so fucking much.” His fingers dug into your hips and thighs as he fucked you harder into the wall. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Always yours.”

Roughly you tugged his mouth down towards yours, kissing him hard as your fingers tightened around the fistfuls of his hair. Matt was kissing you back with a ferocious need, the kiss all tongue and teeth. Loud, throaty moans filled the bedroom, mingling with the sounds of skin on skin as Matt continued to mercilessly fuck you into the wall beside the closet. All thoughts of work and needing to keep your hands to yourselves were completely lost from either of your minds as you cried out his name through the bedroom.

[denaliwrites]

Let Me Come Home

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: Things took a turn during your travels with the Doctor.

Soundtrack: Home by Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros

Requests: Open!

Warnings: S A D D O C T O R A L E R T !

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

You waited for him every day.

He said "I'll be right back." You remembered it, clear as day. Played the moment he stepped into the TARDIS over and over in your mind.

And you waited.

There was only one place on the space station that the TARDIS could manifest into, really, and it was, as far as you were concerned, out of bounds. But there was a little communal area nearby; it was the first place you and the Doctor had wandered into from that little closet, which meant that, should the TARDIS appear, you'd hear it -- and you'd see the Doctor only moments later.

So you spent as much time there as you could.

Being on the space station for so long, you had no choice but to take up duties or else be sent off somewhere else, so you couldn't spend your every waking moment there. But your every break, your every moment not spent working, was spent in that little room.

You even spent some nights there, falling asleep to the metallic hum of the station under your feet.

No one bothered you.

The Doctor had saved them from certain death. They understood the gravity of him, the love and dedication one developed for a person like that. And you'd been with him for some time. They'd only spent the one day with him. They couldn't imagine how you felt. How much you hurt as you waited, day after day, your loyalty and certainty never once wavering. Even in the face of ever decreasing odds.

And yet.

You jolted awake one night (well, "night" was relative) to the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS.

He'd finally come back for you.

You'd fallen asleep in that little break room again, something you did with increasing frequency, but you didn't mind. A few restless nights were worth it when you knew you'd be back in the TARDIS eventually.

You were standing, waiting, when he stepped through the door. When he looked around, trying to get his bearings and finding you instead.

Your name had barely left his lips when you launched yourself at him, pulling him into a hug so tight that his breathing was momentarily cut off. There was no hesitation, his arms were instantly around you, holding you nearly as tight.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured into your ear, over and over again, and you could tell that he meant it down to the deepest pits of his two hearts. That leaving you behind weighed heavy on him. Haunted him.

"Why?" you asked simply, voice impossibly soft.

He pulled out of the hug, though his hands stayed firmly on your shoulders, like you might vanish the moment he broke contact with you.

"Someone put a time lock on the moment I left. I don't know how and I don't know why... but I've spent the last few hours trying different moments to get back. This was the first one that worked."

A few hours.

He'd only been gone a few hours.

In his time.

"Doctor, I've been here a year."

The way your voice broke on that last word broke him. You could see it in his eyes.

"I know," he said, voice full of endless sorrow. "I know. I'm so sorry. I tried so hard to get back to you sooner."

"I know." And you did. You knew the Doctor would never abandon you, never intentionally leave you.

"They've treated you well?" he asked suddenly, as his eyes took you in, looked you over. Examined you.

"The best," you answered with a tearful, relieved laugh. "They put me to work after you didn't show up for a week, but they've made sure I'm fed and clothed and everything. They even assigned me a new birthday and threw me a party."

He laughed at that, though the smile on his face seemed... sad.

"What's wrong?" you asked, tensing up.

"It's just..."

"What is it, Doctor?"

"You seem happy." And his words were so final, like there was no other conclusion, and nowhere left to go from that statement. "You took really well to the future," he commented after barely a moment, leaving you no room to think, to interject. "You've made friends. A life..."

Oh.

You saw the problem even before he said it.

"You'll want to stay, then?" The inflection made it sound like a question, but you knew it was an assumption.

"Don't you fucking dare leave me here again, Doctor."

"Sorry, what?" His face was stunned, and you were reminded for the first time in over a year that sometimes he could be a complete dumbass. "But... you're happy here... content here..."

"Please," you begged, voice thick with emotion. "Please, let me come home."

"And where's home?" he asked, and you knew that he thought you meant Earth, your time. Perhaps even specifically the house you'd lived in, with your family.

"You're home," you said instead.

It took a moment for him to realize what you'd said, and you watched as first the realization hit, and then as his face morphed from something so full of sorrow to so full of joy and hope.

"You were always my home. Always will be," you assured him, and he pulled you into another tight embrace.

When the crew awoke the next "morning," all your belongings were gone. The only thing left that showed you'd ever been there at all was a note you left wishing them goodbye, and a note from the Doctor expressing immeasurable gratitude to them for taking care of you.

[aurorawritestoescape]

Always love me some step-dad Tommy (or any Tommy). I was scrolling through my gallery and came across this picture.

Pool party with step-dad Tommy?

Thank you for this hot photo, love!! 🥵😍 here’s a drabble, inspired by it.

Stepdad Tommy Miller x f!reader || 500 words

Tw: some naughty fun

Could take place between parts 2 and 3 of Bad Blood

*****

The pool party at your mom’s house is almost over, just a few guests are chatting in the kitchen. While there’s no one around, you walk up to the side of the pool where your stepdad Tommy is chilling on an air mattress. His hands are behind his head and his bulging muscles glisten with drops of water, which you desperately want to lick off. With a little smile dancing on his lips and closed eyes, Tommy is enjoying the soft warmth of the evening sun. You ogle your stepdad shamelessly for a few moments before he opens his eyes and his face falls.

“Hey,” Tommy mumbles, his eyes darting around to see the whereabouts of his wife. When he doesn’t find her anywhere he visibly relaxes and his gaze slides up and down your bikini clad body. “Looking good, daddy. Been working out?” you ask. He nods and mumbles a quiet “Thank you,” crossing his big arms on his chest and you smirk.

You decide to give him a show so you walk to the edge of the pool, slowly stretch your body and sit down. He looks away but you notice him glancing at you from time to time. You slide down into the pool and swim around him, brushing his feet with your thigh.

Then you get out and stand at the edge, with water running down your body, your hands on your hips. His gaze is on you, he’s still hesitant but you see his composure crumbling before your eyes. The electric silence between you is broken by your mother whose head suddenly pops out of the backyard door and she announces the departure of her boring friends.

“I’ll be right out, honey,” Tommy tells her with a nervous smile and jealousy burns your stomach.

“Stop dripping water everywhere. Get a towel!” Jess throws your way and your mood gets even worse.

You curse under your breath and mumble, “it’s a pool, for fucks sake”

Tommy gives you a little smile as if apologizing for his wife and slides off the mattress into the water. Before he gets out you say quietly but so he could hear,

“She’s right. I’m too wet.”

With that you tug at the ties of your bikini top and make it fall into your hands. Tommy freezes at the sight of your naked chest and stares at you, his mouth agape. His head darts to the place his wife was a moment ago and then turns back to you. He watches you glide your hands over your exposed breasts, glistening with water, your perky nipples, sparkling in the sun, and he chokes on his next words, “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

You don’t reply and start wringing out the bikini, getting rid of the excess water, at the same time pushing your breasts together with your arms. Tommy’s eyes are obsidian with lust under his furrowed brows and you know that his swimming trunks are hiding a raging hard-on right now.

You smile at him, put your top back on and walk past him.

When you enter the house, your mother asks where your stepdad is.

“He’s gonna be in the pool a little longer. He needs to cool off,” you reply.

*****

Thank you for reading💖

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

[intoanotherworld23]

Stairs Are Better Anyway

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is pure smut and sex, there’s filthy language, unprotected sex, sex on stairs

Summary: Chris was always a fan of taking the stairs especially with you on it

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! I love to hear back from everyone on my works!! If you wish to be added to my Chris Evans tag list please do not hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more people! Thank you guys so much and enjoy! XOXO

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" Chris grumbled as you laid across the stairs knees bent with your legs spread enticing him even more.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Acting completely innocent in this current situation.

"Oh sweetheart you never learn do you?" Watching as Chris crawled up the stairs until he was hovering above you lips pressed against yours. "Teasing me like that at the party."

His hands were all over you as you wrapped yours around his neck. Gripping onto him when you felt him push his body tightly against you. Feeling how hard he was for you and wiggling your hips just to push him a little bit further.

Chris growling into your mouth as you grinned knowing you got him. Not wasting any time in lifting up the bottom of your dress revealing your laced panties that already had a wet spot forming. Helping Chris unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs to the edge of his ankles.

"This what you wanted?" Mumbling against your lips. "To be fucked like the good little whore that you are."

"Yes." Your panties being pulled to the side a cold breeze hitting your core a shiver running up your spine.

"Tell me how badly you need it Y/N?" He teased as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Chris I need you badly it hurts." Biting your bottom lip as he watched you with hungry eyes. "I want you inside me so badly."

"I don't know sweetheart I'm not believing you." Sighing loudly in frustration as he played his own game with you.

"God Chris please fuck me so hard on these stairs that I can't walk for a week." Pleading up at him as you tried moving your hips hoping you could slip him inside of you.

"That's my good girl."Leaning forward pressing his entire cock inside of you a gasp slipping past your lips. "Holy fuck you are so wet baby."

Lifting his hips back up only to slam down into you. Whimpers and grunts filling the air as he quickly picked up his pace and found a steady rhythm. His head remained pressed into your neck as he nibbled on your skin. His arms enclosed around your head to feel even more close to you.

Moaning loudly into his ear every time he sharply thrusted into your body. Your back pressing into the edge of the stairs, but you pushed through the discomfort, and focused on Chris. Moving your arms so they wrapped around his back. Putting some slight pressure on his lower back to feel more of his movements.

"That's it baby your doing so good for me." Words of praise echoed in your ear when you whined and whimpered for him. "Look at you stuffed full of my cock."

Chris leaned himself up only to watch as his cock would disappear inside of you. Drenched in your arousal making this squishing sound that had him really to start howling like some wild animal. He loved to watch as you would take him so deeply, and was always amazed you took him well every time.

"You want harder baby?" He teased his thrusts becoming slow and sensual. "Does my girl want me to fuck her harder?"

"Please Chris fuck me harder." Gritting through your teeth the frustration you felt never receding.

Rocking himself into your whole body to the point you were afraid you two would break the stairs. Feeling as he unleashed all his energy and power into you both of you in a state of euphoria. Seems like you weren't the only one who needed this either.

"God you look so good getting fucked on the stairs like this." Your left hand gripping the railing of the stairs.

Cheeks felt like they were on fire like someone was sticking a hot poker in front of your face. A drop of sweat descending down Chris's face and onto your chest. Rolling down your chest and in between your breasts. It felt cool for a brief second but then soon evaporated from the heat.

"Just like that." Crying out as your legs wrapped around him like a vine.

"This is all you needed didn't you baby?" His tone mocking as he looked at the pleasure on your face.

The new angle had your toes curling so hard you were afraid they would sprain. You were getting so close you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. Chris didn't once slow down as he pounding into you so deeply he could see a bulge in your stomach.

"That's my good girl so good for me." Pressing his forehead against yours feeling you squeeze around him.

"Oh god Chris I'm gonna cum." Your legs were starting to tremble as your release was vastly approaching.

"Cum hard for me sweetheart." That was the final click in your brain covering him in your arousal.

"Oh fuck baby I'm right there." Groaning with a strained voice as he panted heavily above you his cock twitching violently inside you pumping you full of his warm seed.

Leaning his head back down on your heaving chest as both of you tried to catch your breath. Your legs shaking from your intense orgasm as Chris laid slump on top of your body. Leaving tender kisses on your chest as he helped you come down from your high.

"That's why I love taking the stairs." He joked making you both burst into a fit of laughter.

——————————————

Tag list for Chris Evans: @denisemarieangelina @kimberlydyan @patzammit @tinawritesstuff @princess-evans-addict @cevanstan29 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @inmoix @evansgirl7 @nina-sj @chris-butt @a-moment-captured @suchababie @colinbridgertonisbebe @d3vil-is-my-sugg4rd4ddy @sesamepancakes @justjulie1105 @r2gers @sweetllamaparadise @coldmuffinpartycloud @foxchild-v @evansphnx12 @breezykpop @sunwardsss @nathalienightmare @franfineashell @snowy992 @chrisgirl4 @rainbowkisses31 @mrspeacem1nusone @mayisdelanoche @fantastickoya @seaweedthewhale @eliluv1626 @ccmarvelxx @chelricki96 @justile @maceymae2704 @ysmmsy @cheerup-loki @nostxlgia18 @nicolarobertson89 @evansxchalamet @freerose11 @ace-of-spaids2 @gitasor @december16-1991 @allthingschrisevans @melissad1974 @starry-night-20 @maryann8913 @gh0stgurl @vaseoftulips @danireal17 @seattlexgirl @noplacelikehome77 @evansgal @sherlockzss @deandreamernp @chrisevans-4ever @rookiemartin @lowkeysebby @compulsiveshit @janaev4ns @justreadingficsdontmindme @elrw24 @ccrobbs @fangirl125reader @iminluvwthme @alexxavicry @ttomholland1996 @loumaaria-blog @ilybbg @rogersbarber

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I think my back is ok now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Tuesday comes too quickly. You don’t sleep the night before. It’s more than just Lee and your mother arguing that keeps you awake. The anxiety of your meeting bears down on you like an open maw, ready to devour you.

You don’t expect it to go well. You’re not even sure why you’re doing it. 

That one thought repeats over and over. You don’t have to. You can cancel. You can make another excuse and stay a loser. That’s easy. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary. Because new things are hard. 

You languish in bed as the time ticks by. You got to get up and get moving. Soon, you’ll do something. Soon. 

You roil in the trepidation. Each move, each little thing, is a gargantuan task. You sneak out to wash your face and make yourself as presentable as you can. You waited too long. You have five minutes to put something on that isn’t wrinkled and stale. 

You put on a black sweatshirt, hoping the little balls of lint aren’t visible. Maybe you can get away with just turning the microphone on. You open the computer and shift in the chair. One minute. 

You find the email and scroll down to the link. You hover over it and stare. Noon on the dot. Your hand falters and you click the Zoom meeting. It opens in the browser and your breath traps in your chest.  

The little box in the corner is black as you leave the red line through the camera icon as the mic catches the rustle of your shirt. There’s a man on screen. He sits before an office backdrop but you can’t tell if its digitally generated or real. His blond hair is combed back and he sports a thick beard and glasses. He wears a wool sweater over a collared shirt and stares down the camera. 

“Hello,” he speaks, “anyone there?” 

You clear your throat and croak, nearly choking on your own spit.  

“Here,” you manage to squeak. 

“Ah, hello there, may I ask you turn your camera on?” His voice is low and lilted, almost smoky in a way. 

You hesitate and scratch your neck, letting your fingers wander up to your scalp. The itch spread, making sitting still unbearable. You wince as you hear someone in the kitchen, the fridge door closes heavily and a dish clinks on the counter. 

“Hello?” The voice comes again. 

You panic and hit the keyboard. You steady your hand and tap the camera, shying away as you slouch in your chair. The dim glow of your bedside lamp leaves you in shadow. Still, you feel exposed. 

“Better,” he says but with little enthusiasm, “well, I suppose we best get to the meat of things,” he adjusts his posture. 

“Okay,” you murmur and cross your arms, looking evasively at the wall. 

“Good to finally meet. I’m Professor Smith,” he introduces himself and calls you by name. 

“You too,” you utter out of courtesy. This is torture to you. 

“Now, you’ve done very well on your completed work,” his eyes scan as he looks at the screen before him, "you’ve shown improvement up until a few weeks ago. You do have a lot of potential to be successful here--” 

You nod and hunch down further. You just feel worse. You’re a lazy slob. You didn’t finish your work just like you never finish the laundry or cleaning your room. 

“Irene!” Lee’s voice booms on the other side of the wall and you wince, looking over your shoulder then back to the computer. You huddle closer, hoping he didn’t hear that. Your mother’s drone responds to the holler. 

“Perhaps it is the format? We could explore another option for your remaining assignments. I can accommodate where necessar--” 

“Fuck off!” Lee shouts and a loud bang hits the hallway wall. You gulp and your lips part. 

“Lee, please, I didn’t-- I wouldn’t--” 

“Should’ve known better than to trust a whore!” Lee barks. 

You cover your face and shrink down. No! Not now. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks and you separate your fingers, looking through them. You drop your hands and nod. 

“Sorry--” 

Another loud thump, this time against your door and your mother sobs loudly as she slides down the other side. You stammer and your lip trembles as you stare mortified at the lens in the frame of the laptop. This is awful. 

“What is happen--” 

You wiggle your fingers on the touchpad and hit End Call. You retract and wrap your arms around your head, folding over your lap as you rock. How humiliating. You can’t believe that happened. Well, you can. It’s what always happens. 

Your mother and Lee continue to argue, their fight just outside your door. You shake your head as you stay curled over. You don’t know why she does this. These men come around, call her names, knock her around, and she lets them come right back. 

A tinkling noise comes from the speaker. Professor Smith is calling you. You decline the call. An email chimes in at the corner. It’s from him as well. You see the preview, a response to his last email. 

‘Please respond or I will call authorities to confirm your saf....’ 

You click on the notification to expand the full message. You sigh and don’t bother reading the rest as you hit reply. 

‘Everything is fine. I will take the fail. Thank you.’ 

Another call comes in. Just leave me alone! You hit the red button again and delete his last email. And he calls again. Ugh. What does he care. You’re sure he has lots of students to worry about. Another email and another call. Back and forth until you accidentally hit the wrong key. 

He appears again, closer to the lens as his forehead lines, “hello, hey, hey,” he sits back, holding up a hand as you scramble, panicking as you fidget and try to figure out what to do, “don’t hang up, alright? Don’t, or I will be obligated to call the police.” 

As he commands you, your mother and Lee continue their sparring in the hall, voices raised though not as clear from the front room. You sniff and rub your cheek, soothing yourself as you bring up your other hand to chew on your sleeve. 

“Are you in danger?” He asked pointedly. You shake your head. “What is all that then?” 

He’s quiet and you are enveloped again in the chaos outside your room. You shrug and tilt your head to one side. You look down. 

“My mom...” 

He sighs, “look, I wouldn’t have taken the time to call if I didn’t think you could do this. Perhaps, this was the wrong avenue. So, is it possible we meet somewhere neutral. In person?” 

You shudder and sit up as much as you can, wringing your hands, “I... I... don’t drive.” 

“That’s alright, is there a library near you, yeah? I can find my way.” 

You frown and flick your lip under your teeth several times. You see yourself in the little box. You look scary as your eyes are pools of shadows. 

“Uh...” you pull your hands apart and open a new tab, happy to have your image off the screen. You type into the search. You think there’s a library close by. “Yes, um, there is...” 

“Send me the location. We’ll reschedule. When are you available? Thursday? I’m afraid tomorrow I’m booked up.” 

You switch back to the video call. You feel tears tightening your throat and ready to spring. You shake your head and paste the URL of the library branch into the chat. His eyes flit down to read it. 

“Thursday,” you repeat but it’s not as much a question as you mean. 

“Thursday is good. Can we do earlier? Ten?” He asks. 

You don’t know. You’re not used to making decisions. You don’t get asked for your preference ever. 

“Sure,” you answer, just wanting to end the call and hide in bed. 

“Alright, I’ll pencil you in,” he says, “shall I stay on the call until that...” he pauses as Lee continues to bluster, “subsides?” 

“No,” you shake your head. 

He stares at you, his forehead lined with disapproval. Why does he care so much? He doesn’t know you. 

“Are you certain?” He intones. 

You nod, “I have to go.” 

You end the call and shut the computer. Your stomach is a jumble and you’re jittering with adrenaline. All your life, you’ve hidden behind these walls; you’ve hidden all that goes on there. To have someone witness it is worse than the yelling and hitting itself. 

You ignore the chirp from the laptop and throw yourself into bed. Thursday. So, another torturous purgatory begins, waiting to face the professor and your incompetence once more. 

📓

Thursday comes too quickly. 

You sit in your room and convince yourself to go. It was easier when it was just a computer screen, though even that was difficult. Only for you because you’re so messed up. Because you can’t do anything. 

What else can you do? The whole night you were awake thinking about how you would tell your mother. If you flunk out, you default on the student loan and you’re even deeper in the pit. The true consequences of your laziness are clearer now and you can’t let your sloth bury you again. If you do, you may as well give up on everything. Even life itself. 

So, you have no choice. You’re being given a last chance. Again. You’d feel even worse for not taking it than you would for failing at it. 

You pull on a hoodie and grab your house key and your knapsack with your computer and notebook tucked inside. That’s all you really have. No phone, no wallet. Just the bare minimum.  

You shuffle to the door, standing just inside as you muster your courage. You check your digital watch, an old Casio you’ve had for years. The numbers are dim and hard to read in the dark. You have to get going. 

You emerge and go down to the kitchen to sneak a sip of water before you go. Your room is always so dry at night. You drain a glass and rinse it out, leaving it beside the sink. As you turn around, you hear your mother’s bedroom door and the slap of her slippers as she slinks in. 

“Ah, honey,” she smiles dopily. You can smell liquor from there. She might even still be drunk as her hangovers usually keep her abed. “There you are! Oh, gosh, are you going somewhere?” 

“Mm, library,” you answer, “for school.” 

“Oh, smart girl,” she slurs. You try to smile but it’s shaky and weak. Your mom tries, you know that, so you can’t hate her. “Can you stop by the shop on your way? I got a twenty. Wouldn’t mind some vodka.” 

You pick at a fingernail, “mom, I don’t... I don’t like buying that stuff.” 

“Mm, I know, but I...” she sways on her feet and belches into her fist, “never mind. I’ll just ask Lee when he comes by.” 

“He’s coming?” You ask warily. 

“Sure, sure,” she turns and staggers to the fridge, “he must be missing me by now.” 

She bends, leaning on the door as she opens it, and peruses the mostly empty shelves. You leave her and go down the hall. You grab your shoes and slip them on, once more stopping at the threshold. Keep going. You made it this far. 

You let yourself out and lock the door behind you. You take the stairs down to the first level and continue out onto the street. You keep to the edge of the pavement as you weave around other pedestrians that pass. 

Your lips move as you recite the directions to yourself. You were sure to memorise the route as best as you could. You get turned around but right yourself and make it to the corner when you can see the grey brick of the library. 

You wait at the light before you cross and your heart begins to race the closer you get. Oh no, you don’t know if you can do this. You want to just run away. What if he sees you and changes his mind? I mean, look at you. You’re not some perky coed, you’re... you. 

You stare up at the facade and the large letters over the entrance. You take the first step, then the next. You focus on that. Right foot, left foot. Little things, one at a time. You can do this. You have to.