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aemondsbabe · 8 months ago

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From Ashes, Fire | Claimant Pt 3

summary: dragons take what they want, you and your brother are no different. but what will be left to burn in the name of happiness?

pairing: dark!aemond x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, angst, angst but happy ending, very cersei/jaime coded moment that's all i'll say, major character death, noncanonical death, very brief descriptions of injury, blood, i promise it's nothing graphic, reader turns to the dark side lol, piv sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), minor breeding kink, possessive aemond, possessive reader, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k oops

a/n: this is it, the grand finale! i had so much fun with this series and i hope y'all enjoy the last bit!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🔪read part 1 and part 2 here!

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"Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty."

“Jaehaera, please,” Helaena’s voice is gentle and melodic even as she scolds her daughter, pointing at one of the straw-stuffed dolls in her tiny hands, “You must share with your brother; how about you let him play with the knight, hm?”

One of Maelor’s little fists wraps tightly around your pointer finger as you chuckle at the displeased frown on the toddler’s face when she shoves the doll in Jaehaerys’s direction, though her lips quickly lift into a smile at her mother’s praise.

“Good, that’s very sweet of you,” your sister smiles, watching her eldest two children play, sitting cross-legged beside them on the plush blanket she’d had spread out on the grass.

A cool breeze blows through the grassy field while you idly look around at the many red tents and campfires, observing the groups of people gathered around – knights sat at one of the many wooden tables, a few servants peel vegetables brought from the Keep, and various nobles, lady’s maids, and other court patrons shuffle about.

Taking a deep breath, you turn your face toward the sun, cooler now as day turns to evening, and savor the first moment of peace you’ve had in nearly a week. The days since your marriage to Jace have been… eventful, to say the least, with each new duty feeling like another stab to your already fragile heart. Respite hadn’t even found you in the night, each one spent fending off your new husband’s advances with excuses of your menstrual flux having come early, headaches, and various other ailments. He was getting anxious, you could tell – each night he pushed back a little more, arguing the importance of consummating the marriage, reminding you of the vows you had both uttered in the Sept.

But how can a vow mean much if the Gods know it was only ever a lie?

You had felt your mother’s eyes on you at every turn, watching you and your brother like a hawk. Though as the days progressed her fiery stare cooled to one of guilt – a penance for subjecting you to the same fate that had befallen her. You suspected that was why she and Rhaenyra had organized this little trip; a celebratory hunt they’d called it, to commemorate the rift between your two families finally being healed.

“Dear, dear wife,” your oldest brother slurs, goblet clutched in one hand as he staggers toward you and Helaena, groaning when he flops down on the bench next to you. “Oh, you look… ravishing,” your lips quirk up into a smirk as he drapes an arm around your shoulders, giggling and making faces at Maelor.

“What did I tell you,” your sister says through a huff of laughter, violet eyes finding yours, “They ignore you until they’re drunk.”

If only that were the case, you think as you force yourself to laugh in time with her.

“That is quite rude,” Aegon chastises, brows furrowed in offense while he takes a messy swig of wine, a few red drops run down his chin. “Do you see how she treats me?” He pouts, leaning closer to you with a wry grin, “The deed is done though, yes? Bastard knew where to put it?”

“Aegon!” Helaena hisses, swatting at his knee.

The two fall into a playful round of bickering, thankfully leaving you out of it. With a sigh, you let your gaze wander again, tumbling thoughts muffling your siblings voices.

“It’s not as hard as it looks, here,” Daemon’s voice catches your attention and you watch as he points a knife at the belly of a deer he and Lucerys had hunted earlier in the day, showing the boy where to cut, “Get your knife in there – good, like that, and now just cut downwards, one clean movement…” You glance away as blood spills from the beast’s abdomen, staining the grass below it.

Looking over the treeline, you try to ignore the sick feeling building in the pit of your stomach, though you know it won’t be settled until Aemond��s back at camp. Biting at your lip, you let out an irritated huff when you can’t make out any movement in the distance, no sign of your brother or Ser Criston, even your husband.

You’d only spoken to Aemond once since your marriage – a hushed conversation hidden away in an alcove when the two of you had a spare moment alone after supper. He’d held you while you’d cried against the crook of his neck, shushing you and running a soothing hand up and down your back. You remember the way his jaw felt, teeth clenched as he rested it atop your head, letting you tuck yourself into him while he vibrated with barely contained rage.

“I can’t do this, I can’t,” you lamented, peering up at him with a mournful sob as your fingers clung to the dark jacket he wore, “They’re planning on going back to Dragonstone! Dragonstone, Aem!”

“Shh, little one,” his hands had cupped your cheeks, wiped away your tears with calloused thumbs, “I’m not letting them take you.”

His words had held such conviction, you’d wanted nothing more than to believe him, yet you’d shaken your head anyway. “I don’t think there’s any stopping them, this time,” your breath had hitched with each word, “You heard Rhaenyra, they’re leaving as soon as we’re back from the hunt and she would never agree to leave Jacaerys here, never.”

You had known you were spiraling, head spinning as you’d looked up at him, and yet the words tumbled out anyway. “I hate him, I wish he’d just… just disappear!” It was a childish little jab and yet, your heart had leapt into your throat the moment you’d said it. You were expecting to feel the clawing ache of guilt gnaw at your stomach, however, a weightlessness followed. You’d never felt lighter than in that moment – tucked away in the shadows, a secret you’d harbored since childhood finally set free.

Aemond had stayed quiet, but you saw the way his violet eye sparkled, the gears turning in his head.

Your words had echoed in his head, calling out to him like a siren’s song – the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

Finally convinced that the three men are truly not just going to materialize at the edge of camp, your gaze shifts to where your mother and Rhaenyra sit, huddled together beside one of the many firepits. Bouncing little Maelor on your lap, you’re vaguely aware of Aegon and Helaena idly chatting beside you, something to do with how your brother believes some such thing about the Small Council is a waste of time – a frequent complaint of his since taking the throne.

You’re hardly listening though, head cocked to the side while you watch the two women laughing and animatedly conversing; they remind you of the young girls at court – youthful and carefree, too wrapped up in one another to notice much around them.

That’s why she let them go together, that shadowy voice in the back of your head hisses, Too distracted to know better. You clench your jaw, only halfway aware of the stinging pain at your cuticle as you dig a nail into it.

“What say you to accompanying me on a hunt, nephew?” Aemond had asked earlier in the afternoon, voice low as he slunk over to where you, Jace, and your mothers had been sitting at one of the wooden tables, picking through a light lunch the cooks at the Keep had prepared.

“Aemond,” Alicent had sighed wearily, leaning heavily on her elbows while Rhaenyra regarded your brother with a cool indifference – evidently unaware of your family’s tensions.

“What? I merely wish to bond with my dearest sister’s new husband.”

“Uncle,” Jace had finally spoken up, pointedly grasping one of your hands that had sat on the table, “As much as I would love to accompany you, don’t you think it a bit unwise for only the two of us to go? If I remember correctly from my youth, your father used to take a whole host of men into the woods with him…”

“Do you not think yourself man enough to take on a measly buck, nephew?”

“Aemond!”

“Don’t fret, mother. ‘Twas only a joke, a tasteless one, I admit,” your hackles had raised at that, at how quickly he had stood down, so wholly unlike your brother, “Besides, I’ve taken the liberty of asking Ser Criston to accompany us as well.”

It was then, at the mention of the knight, that Rhaenyra had leaned closer to Alicent, the two of them laughing softly and sharing knowing glances while your half-sister whispered into her ear.

“Surely the three of us are more than capable of subduing a deer or two, don’t you think?”

Jace had balked at that, sighing heavily as his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” you had coached your lips into a tight smile when you interjected, “Doesn’t that sound like a lovely idea, mother?”

“Hm?” She had blinked, finally parting from Rhaenyra, the ghost of a smile still on her lips.

“For Ser Criston to accompany Jace and Aemond, to go hunting with them.”

“Well, I –”

“Surely that would be safest, yes?” You pushed, glancing at Jace before locking eyes with Aemond, “A knight with them, a Kingsguard no less.”

“I think it sounds like a fine idea,” Rhaenyra had smiled, squeezing one of your mother’s hands, “They should take the time to bond, no? Savor it while we’re together these last few days.”

“Yes… yes, a fine idea,” she had immediately agreed, always swaying to your half-sister.

“Wonderful,” your brother murmured, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he clasped his arms behind his back, “I’ll have Ser Criston ready the horses.” With that, he had stalked away, giving you one final glance.

“You truly think this a good idea?” Your husband had questioned, turning to you while your mothers got lost in yet another hushed conversation.

“Of course!” You had nodded, clasping one of his hands in both of yours, “Aemond is… odd with his affections. This is just his way of attempting to rectify things, I’m sure of it.”

“I suppose…,” he had sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“It’ll be fine,” you had urged, going so far as to lean over and press a kiss against his cheek, one of the scant few times you had initiated any affections.

Those words had echoed in your head while you watched the three men sheath their swords and load various bows and arrows onto their horses, the midday sun suddenly feeling much too warm against your skin.

It’ll be fine, you had reminded yourself for the millionth time when they set off, horses galloping along a narrow path that led into the Kingswood, He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine.

“Oh, shit,” Aegon whispers beside you, nearly dropping his goblet.

You quickly follow his eyeline, looking to where he stares at one of the small paths that lead into the camp – the sight wrenching a hitched gasp from your throat.

A hush seems to fall over the entirety of the camp, only for the quickest of seconds, before chaos erupts. Aemond stands before one of the horses, a grey one you recognize as Jace’s, steadying it while Criston pulls your husband from the saddle, smearing the side of the animal with thick streaks of red.

Daemon quickly runs over to assist while you hastily hand Maelor back to Helaena, hardly looking in her direction as you do.

“Jace? Jacaerys?!” Rhaenyra calls, picking up her skirts as she sprints over, violet eyes wide with terror, “What is it? What’s happened?”

Every noise sounds muffled when you make your way over to the huddle of commotion, Alicent following closely behind. A strange detached sensation fills you while you watch Criston and Daemon lay Jace down on a nearby bench, blood immediately soaking into the silk fabric of the pillows.

It feels as if everything is happening both too quickly and too slowly all at once – a few of the other knights rush forward, hastily pulling his tunic out of the way before pressing stark white medical linens to the gaping cut on his side. They bark orders over his body, yelling for the servants to bring water and more linens.

You feel your mother and Helaena grabbing at your arms and it’s only then you realize you’re shaking, swaying in place like a leaf on a branch; you know they’re talking to you but their words are dulled by the rushing of blood in your ears.

Somewhere in your periphery, you register the sound of Daemon’s voice, thick with desperation as he shouts question after question at Criston, “What happened? When? How? How long ago? How could you, you were supposed to protect him?!” They blend together, echoing through the haze in a roaring hum.

Distantly, you register the feel of another warm body pressing into the small pack you find yourself a part of. Helaena shushes someone next to you and your gaze tears itself away from the pools of crimson gathering on the grass just long enough to realize that it’s Luke. Your heart breaks at that, a sharp pang in your chest at the fact that the poor boy is distressed enough to seek comfort from your family, of all places.

“No! No, no, no!” Rhaenyra’s wails slice through the fog clouding your mind in such an exacting manner that your knees buckle, “Jace, Jace, look at me, please? Sweetling, please look at me!” She sobs, leaning over her son, one hand cradling his cheek.

Unseeing brown eyes stare, unblinking, up at the hazy orange sky while yours focus solely on a single, paralyzing flash of violet.

He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine.

The Sept is eerily quiet, normal for this time of night but unsettling all the same; the occasional fizzling noises of the dozens of flickering candles is the only way you’re able to discern that time hasn’t simply halted. Pale moonlight shines in through the windows, bathing the floor in a star-shaped pool of light and making the whites of the painted eyes resting atop Jace’s face glow like beacons.

You had picked out the stones and painted the eyes on them yourself, taking them from a spot in the gardens you knew he had favored when you were children and spent hours sourcing the pigments to make just the right shade of brown – one that reminded you of the rich chocolates that had been imported from Essos for your betrothal feast.

“A wife’s duty,” your mother had said.

Rhaenyra had glared at you the whole time; silently, you wondered if she somehow knew it wasn’t duty that drove you – only atonement.

Atonement, your mind echoes as you sit upon the cool stone steps beneath the Seven-Pointed Star, leaning your head against the bannister as you force yourself to look at his body, still atop black silks.

Must one feel guilt to atone? Must I atone for not feeling it? When will it end?

Those questions had plagued you in the days since Jace died, bled out like a hunter’s boon in the field by the Kingswood. They’d settled over you like a fever, an ever-present haunting ache, made only worse by the soft, sinful voice in the back of your head that whispered the truth – that you didn’t care, that you don’t even now.

You hadn’t cared, even as blood seeped from the gash at his side, even as you forced yourself to kneel by his still warm body and press gentle kisses to his forehead – the performance of a good wife.

You hadn’t cared in the carriage ride back to the Keep, letting your mother and your sister hold you while you cried – I’m sad, I’m sad, I’m crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because I should be sad.

And you hadn’t cared when Aemond had come to you in the dead of night, had slipped into your chambers – your chambers – through one of the many hidden passageways in the old castle.

“How?” You had asked, tracing patterns onto the pale skin of his bare chest while the two of you laid tangled in your silk sheets.

“A boar,” he answered plainly, speaking through a sigh while running his fingers over the thigh you had draped across his hips, “Just as I’ve told you the last four times you’ve asked.”

“Aemond,” you sighed in that same tired tone your mother so often used; your eyes had narrowed when you saw the corner of his lips just barely twitch up into a smile; were it any other time, he would’ve made a cheeky comment about the similarity.

“I’ve told you,” his grip tightened ever so slightly on your thigh and his other hand had grasped at your chin, guiding your eyes to his, “We had been tracking a buck, had gotten close and dismounted our horses, and had, I assume, stumbled into the beast’s territory and it charged at us.”

“Brother,” you had whispered, shaking your head and cupping his cheek, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie?”

He had stayed silent for a long while at that, jaw clenched while he stared at some point off in the distance, lips drawn into a tight line. Eventually, you had laid your head down, resting your cheek on his shoulder while you tried to accept that you wouldn’t be getting the truth that night, if ever.

It was only then that he had spoken.

“Please, let me protect you.”

“Protect me?” You had looked up, brows furrowed as you studied his face, “From what?”

“From the law –”

“Our brother is king, if he says it was not murder, if he says it was an accident, which he already has done, then no one will question his –”

“Fine, then,” he had snapped, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “From the damn Gods! I…” He trailed off, sighing heavily while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“... the Gods?”

He’d finally looked at you again and your heart had pinched meanly in your chest when you saw tears gathering in his violet eye, “They will judge me harshly for what I’ve done, whenever the time comes, but… I will not subject you to the same fate.”

You had scoffed at that, had rolled your eyes when he looked away shamefully and had climbed atop him then, straddled his hips and turned his face toward yours, “I don’t give a shit about the Gods.”

“What?”

“I don’t,” you repeated, leaning down until your forehead touched his, “If they were good Gods, if they cared, they would not have subjected me to that sham of a marriage in the first place. They would’ve guided our mother rightly, but they didn’t.”

“Sister, I –”

“And I hate that our nephew paid for that, Aemond, I truly do, but I am the one who told you to do it.”

He had shaken his head while a mournful peal of laughter clawed its way out of his throat, “You didn’t tell me to do any–”

“Perhaps not directly,” you interjected, smiling sadly while you cupped both of his cheeks in your hands, running a thumb over the scar beneath his eye, “But I did. I could’ve told you not to, could’ve said I didn’t mean it, could’ve cautioned our mother against letting him go with you, but… I didn’t.”

“No… no, I suppose you didn’t,” he sighed, swallowing thickly as he tried in vain to blink away tears.

“I didn’t,” you echoed, your words hushed and cooed, like a mother soothing an infant, “I know what you’re capable of, I knew it then, and I didn’t.”

He nodded, his breath stuttered in his throat as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Because I knew you’d protect me… and you did.”

“I did,” he mumbled, nodding up at you as his face twisted and a small sob bubbled from his lips, “I did, I did it. I did it, I did. For you, for us.”

“I know,” you murmured sweetly, stroking a hand over his long hair while you pressed sweet kisses against his forehead. You held him as he cried, huddled together in the dark of your chambers

And you hadn’t cared when you realized you were smiling.

“The hour is quite late, little one,” the suddenness of his voice makes you jump, though you settle quickly.

“So it is,” you smile and look over your shoulder, tilting your head up while he walks down the steps to join you, “The hour of ghosts, yes? Fitting.”

He huffs as he sits beside you before regarding you with a slight smirk, “I suppose it is,” he murmurs, only sparing the red and black draped body on the altar a passing glance.

“Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you… Hel said you would probably be here.”

“Mm,” you nod, idly running a finger over the pattern on your skirts, finding a morbid sort of beauty in the way the rich black silks glimmered in the candlelight.

“Why are you here?” Aemond asks, eye following the line of your profile.

“Praying.”

Without looking, you can practically feel him rolling his eye beside you, huffing a little breathy laugh again, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie, sweet sister?”

Hearing your own words from the night before parroted back to you pulls a laugh from you as well, though you wince as your giggle echoes throughout the Sept. “It’s funny,” you sigh, glancing about the cavernous space before finally looking at him, “This is the only place where no one wants to be.”

He hums next to you and nods his head, lets the two of you sit in silence for a moment before you continue.

“I don’t have to pretend when I’m here.”

“Pretend?”

Biting at your bottom lip, you nod and lean into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “That I’m sad… that I feel anything, really,” you sigh, breathing the words more so than saying them, “All Rhaenyra does is cry, Daemon is ready to strangle anything that moves, Lucerys is despondent to the point of being mute. Even our own mother cries for him and I cannot muster a single tear that isn’t a farce.”

Your eyes trail back over to Jace and you regard him with a mournful stare, staying silent for a long moment as you try to will yourself to feel sad, to feel angry, to feel guilty… yet nothing comes.

“Everyone grieves differently,” Aemond mumbles beside you, though his words only serve to make you more bitter, “Perhaps, in time –”

“In time nothing will happen,” you snap, grimacing at the harshness in your voice, “I’m not sad and I am… I’m tired of pretending I am.” You murmur, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Aemond is quiet for a long while, though you can feel the energy radiating off of him in waves – you’ve always been able to tell when he has a lot on his mind. You’re content to simply let him think, taking his silence as a cue that it’s your turn to let him sort through things.

“You… are happy, though? Yes?” He finally asks after several long minutes, going strangely rigid next to you as if he’s afraid of your answer, “I know you say you aren’t sad but…”

“Aemond,” you sigh, sitting up and staring at him as a slow, creeping smile spreads across your face, “I have never been happier.”

“Truly?”

“Yes!” You quickly shift yourself on the stairs, turning yourself more toward him and placing a gentle hand on top of his thigh, “Big brother, you saved me.”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him get a word in edgewise before the emotions you’ve been bottling up over the last few days finally spill over and you practically throw yourself into his lap, straddling his hips.

“Brother, I've been tethered to him since I was eight and you have freed me from that,” you say softly, voice hardly carrying in the air. Slowly, carefully you pull his eyepatch off, the only one ever allowed to do so; there is a sadness in your smile when you gently trail your fingers over the crease of his scar, “We both lost something that night and have suffered for it ever since.”

Without another word, you press your lips to his and savor the groan your kiss pulls from him. His hands grab at your hips in the same instance yours card through his hair while your lips move together in a practiced rhythm.

Impatient, one of your hands travels down his chest and stomach, though you hardly have time to pull at the hem of his dark tunic before he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Aemond,” you huff, fighting against his grip.

“Surely you don’t mean to defile this place in such a way,” he murmurs, violet eye sparkling as if he were challenging you, even as he glances over your shoulder, “What would your dear husband think?

You grin at the lecherous smirk on his lips, heart pounding in your chest as a familiar ache settles at the apex of your thighs. You give one final glance over your shoulder before turning back to him with a dismissive shrug. “Husband in name only,” you remind him, yanking your hand out of his grasp and trailing your fingers over the growing bulge beneath his trousers, “I have only ever been devoted to you.”

A rough growl leaves his lips and he clenches his jaw, narrowing his eye. “We will burn for this, sweet sister,” he huffs, pale cheeks flushing while he stares up at you, one hand still settled on your hip as the other comes up to cup your jaw.

“The Seven can have their say,” your cunt clenches at the way he looks at you – surprise, lust, even reverence giving such an intensity to his gaze that it nearly knocks the wind from your lungs, “The Old Valyrian Gods can as well, I don’t care. Aemond, I don’t.”

Your hand finally, blessedly, pulls free the ties at the top of his trousers and you quickly find his length. The sharp grunt that’s wrenched from his throat when your hand wraps around it echoes through the Sept, each iteration of it making the fire in your belly burn brighter and brighter.

He doesn’t attempt to stop you when you plunge a hand beneath the fabric of your black skirts and hastily tug your smallclothes out of the way, he merely studies you in awe, as if watching a newly hatched dragon spread its wings for the first time. His gaze makes you shiver, though you dare not look away.

“What do you care about, little one?” He murmurs suddenly, unable to help himself from glancing between your bodies, licking his lips while he watches you use your fingers to prepare yourself as you rub your own slick through your folds.

“You,” you whisper, shuddering at the way you both gasp at the same time when you rut against his already throbbing length, “You are the only god I’ve ever worshiped, big brother.”

A loud groan bursts free of his lips at that and the hunger in his eye nearly catches you alight, and yet he still grabs at your hips tightly, preventing you from sinking onto his length – so out of his element, wholly unused to being taken in such a way. “Come, let us go to my chambers,” he tries, breathing your name against your neck as he leans up, “Where I can take you properly, hm? No risk of anyone interrupting…”

Undeterred, you simply shake your head and lean forward, pressing your lips against his in an eager, near feral kiss. It’s mostly teeth and tongues and thankfully, it’s enough to shock him into loosening his grip, just enough for you to take what you want. You bite at his bottom lip when you sink down onto his length, hard enough to taste iron, making him growl into the kiss, the sound of it deepening to a low groan at the feel of your tight cunt around him.

The feel of his cock stretching you open somehow only gets better each time and leaves you gasping in his lap, your hands grabbing at his shoulders for leverage while you begin grinding yourself against him, impatient and ravenous. “Ohh, f-fuck,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut while your walls flutter around him.

Aemond’s chest heaves under your hands while he stares up at you, lips parted ever so slightly as breathy groans spill, unbidden, from them. Opening your eyes, your gaze is immediately drawn to a little smear of red beside his mouth and you lean forward – licking his pale skin clean without a second thought.

“Little minx,” he smirks, meanly grabbing at your hips again and bucking up into you. He huffs a soft laugh at the sharp moan that bursts from you, sounding louder still in the large open space of the Sept; there’s a dangerous, challenging gleam in his eye that makes you shiver. “Go on, then,” he rasps, trailing a hand up from your hip to cup the underside of your breast, his touch warm even through the bodice of your gown, “Worship your god.”

A soft, stuttered moan wrenches itself from your lips at that and you quickly obey, staking your claim over him. As you find your rhythm, rutting wildly in his lap, the only sounds echoing off the walls are that of panted breaths and the slick, wet noises from where the two of you connect. “You’re mine,” you breathe, leaning forward to bite at his throat, determined to mark him in as many ways as possible, “Y-You’ve always been mine, Aemond.”

He nods his head, hands scrambling at the ties on your bodice, determined to free your breasts. “I’m yours?” He taunts, sighing victoriously when he finally manages to practically rip the top of your gown open; his tongue darts out, wetting his lips at the sight of them and he allows himself a few seconds to appreciate the way they bounce so enticingly with each of your determined movements, “Show me, then… show me who I belong to, sweet sister.”

Something snaps inside you then, breaking and clicking perfectly into place all in the same breath; the feeble thing that was holding the dam inside of you shut disappears. Whatever greedy darkness Aemond has always harbored within himself has been slowly seeping into you since the night of your betrothal feast and now, it seems, it has finally settled into your bones as well. It’s as if he can sense it in the same instance you do and gives a subtle nod of his head, commanding you to give in.

With renewed vigor, you grind against him harshly, pressing your hips as far down onto him as you can manage until you can feel his cock pressing against the entrance to your womb. The thought of him there, of the possibility of his seed catching, of the possibility that it may already have, spurs you on further.

“I would kill for you, too,” you say lowly through clenched teeth, licking up the side of his neck until you can whisper into his ear, “I’ll do anything to have you, my love, I don’t care what it is.”

A low groan reverberates from within his chest, both of you all but snarling as you move together; his hips rut up against yours, unable to hold still any longer, and he bites a path down your neck until he reaches the softness of your breasts. You gasp as he teases at one nipple, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue while his fingers toy with the other one, only to cut yourself off with a loud moan when his lips seal around it.

“I would burn this city to the fucking ground if that’s what… what it took, brother,” the words tumble from your lips when you card your fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head and holding him against your chest. Your head tilts down, heart pounding in your chest while you watch him savor the feel of your warm flesh in his mouth; his violet eye snaps up and his gaze bores into yours, making your cunt clutch greedily at his length.

Feeling the knot building quickly in your belly, aided by the way your sensitive pearl brushes against the small patch of hair at the base of Aemond’s cock, you only grow more needy – craving confirmation that he is yours, that no one will be able to take him from you again. Your breath catches in your throat when you recall a conversation the two of you had had a few nights ago, the night of Jace’s death.

The two of you had been cuddled in your bed together, panting in sweat-damp sheets, when he had cupped your cheek and turned your face to his.

“What is it?” You asked, familiar with the faraway look in his eye – God’s knew where he could’ve been in that moment.

“Marry me.”

His whispered demand had knocked the air from your lungs then, the whole world may as well have come to a grinding halt on its axis. “Aemond, we must wait, you know this. I hate it as much as you do but –”

“We need to wait for a Westerosi wedding, yes,” he murmured, leaning over you and shushing you with a soft kiss, “Too soon and it looks suspicious.”

“But –”

“But… a wedding in the tradition of our house need not wait, little one,” the determination in his eye had shocked you then, had warmed you from the inside out, “Our sister and her cunt of a husband hardly waited until Laena and Laenor were cold before they married… we could do the same.”

You had stayed quiet after that, too much death and change and uncertainty clouding your mind to give him an answer, and yet you knew he was right. Rhaenyra and Daemon had married in secret, so soon after Laenor’s sudden passing that it had always seemed a bit odd to you. Yet, no one ever questioned it; your own father had accepted it without so much as a blink, writing the marriage into law with no fuss. Aegon would do the same for you, you felt certain.

Nothing was stopping you, nothing that mattered, anyway.

That thought fuels you now as you rock on Aemond’s lap, both of you barreling toward your eventual ends. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him away from your breast despite his growl of displeasure. Just as he had with you, you cup his cheeks, focusing his attention on you.

“Marry me.”

The rhythm of his hips hitches at your words and he fucks up into you harshly, moving you more desperately against him as another loud, guttural moan echoes through the chamber.

“Tonight,” you continue, brows furrowing as you stare at him, greedily drinking him in, “I cannot wait any longer, brother, tonight, please…”

A vicious, conquering smirk grows on his lips, white teeth gleaming in the low candlelight like a snarling dog. “You wish to be mine, is that it?” He teases, reaching between your two writhing bodies to rub hungrily at your pearl, savoring the pretty breathy moans he earns.

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish speaking as an unrelenting, all consuming possessive ache starts spreading out from your heart, flowing through your blood vessels like fire. “I don’t wish it,” you pant, forehead resting against his while the wildfire burning in your belly threatens to burn you whole, “I told you, I would kill for you and… and, fuck, I swear it. A-Aemond, no one will have you ever again, never, none except me…”

Your words descend into a barely intelligible murmur as you finally let go, pushed suddenly over the edge at the thought of being so tightly bound together that no one would be able to tear the two of you apart again. Your brother growls again at the feel of your cunt pulsing around him, the movements spurring him toward his own end.

He grabs at you when he follows you into oblivion, holding you against him as if you’d disappear otherwise. The feel of his spend spilling into you, filling you, nearly sends you over the edge again and you cling to him just as harshly, holding him while he trembles beneath you.

“You are a vicious little thing,” he says softly after some minutes, holding you against his chest while the two of you catch your breaths.

“I learned from the best.”

He only sighs at that but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling. “I would do it again for you,” he mumbles, eye fixed on Jace, “I would do it a thousand times over.”

He speaks in a reverent whisper, promises of death and destruction as sweet as a prayer on his lips.

Aemond’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you through the winding corridors below the Red Keep, the flickering light from the torches lining the walls making the various statues and reliefs dance in your periphery.

“I’ve always hated that he’s down here, stowed away,” he murmurs, yet his voice still carries some among the stone hallways.

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, glancing into each shadowy alcove you come across while you try to ignore the wild beating in your chest – the way your heart clenches at the thought of finally being so close to what you’ve always wanted. “Yes, he should be out in the sun, somewhere he can be celebrated.”

The old cellars under the Keep have always seemed so haunting to you, so cold and empty. The thought of the walls down here being lined with the ashen remains of generations upon generations of your ancestors had never failed to send a shiver down your spine. Yet, they unfold before you now like paradise; even the still, musty air begins to smell as sweet as honeyed wine.

For the briefest of seconds, guilt joins you – walks alongside you, invisible like the Stranger. A stuttered heartbeat, that’s all and then it’s gone, at the thought that Jace would join them tomorrow, still warm from Vermax’s fire.

How ironic, you think, glancing up at your brother and admiring the way the light gleams on his sapphire eye, That a place that holds so much death would be where our lives finally begin.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” you’d said again, retying your bodice while Aemond tucked himself back into his trousers and searched for his eyepatch.

“Nor do I,” he agreed, stuffing the small scrap of fabric into a pocket – the streets of King’s Landing would be deserted enough at this time of night that he could get away without wearing it. “Tensions are bound to rise after tomorrow, after everything is said and done; I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

You had nodded and followed him out of the Sept, through one of the many old, forgotten tunnels that only a scant few knew existed, the list of which definitely didn’t include the guards stationed at the front of the building who had escorted your carriage earlier that evening.

While he had helped you onto the back of his horse, the two of you shared a knowing look, each of you already thinking the same thing.

Turning down one final corridor, your heart thuds in your chest as you’re finally met with Balerion’s petrifying gaze and, just like every other time you’d been in his presence, a little huff of reverence leaves you. Your eyes dance over the rows of his razor sharp teeth, gleaming in the glow of dozens of candles, and you can’t help but imagine the horrors those jaws have inflicted, the pain they wrought while subduing the continent – all in your family’s name.

“Targaryens have always taken what we’ve wanted,” Aemond murmurs beside you, staring up at the gargantuan skull with just as much respect as you are, “Tamed our desires in fields of fire.”

“And rivers of blood,” you turn your heads at the same time, soft smiles on your lips when your eyes meet, like you’re sharing sweet words of love rather than painting pictures of horrors.

Perhaps that is what wrath is for us, you wonder, your eyes flicking between violet and sapphire when you turn toward your brother, What is death if not the sweetest of devotions?

He takes your hands in his, glancing down when your fingers intertwine before looking back up at you; you can feel yourself blushing under his intense gaze, heart squeezing in your chest as he looks at you like that in and of itself is an honor. There’s such softness in his eye, you would think him incapable of violence if you didn’t know better.

“You truly wish for this?” He questions one last time, needing to be sure.

“I’ve told you, I do not wish,” your hands squeeze his, “I need this, Aemond… I would kill for you, for this – for us. Anything, just as you did.”

Your voice trembles when you speak, the intensity of your hushed promises making your head spin because you would. The want you feel, that you have always felt, is not some soft yearning thing. It’s not so simple as some mere whisper uttered in the dead of night at a holy altar while your skin is awash with the glow of candlelight, no.

No, your want is something far more insidious – something deep-seated. An oppressive, clinging thing that has always coaxed you further and further down into that shadowy part of yourself; the part that has always reminded you too much of him.

The demon, lurking in your periphery, that has always begged you to look, has tempted you since childhood with the sweetest of promises, finally rejoices.

Aemond nods, a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips, and you watch as he lets go of one of your hands to unsheath his dagger. The sight of the worn leather handle makes you smile bashfully, though your core clenches all the same, and you gasp when you feel another drop of his seed soak into your smallclothes.

“You know the words?”

Again, he nods and your head cocks to the side curiously when a wash of pink grows on his pale cheeks; he smiles again and fixes you with that same intense stare. “I used to spend hours reading them, over and over, when we were children,” he whispers, leaning closer to you like he’s revealing some deep, dark secret, “I always wanted to get them perfect for you.”

A little peal of laughter echoes through the cellars before you swallow thickly, trying to tamper the tightness at the back of your throat as the backs of your eyes sting, tears pooling in your waterline. He cups your cheek and you smile when he brushes one away, a pleased hum leaves his lips when you nod.

Aemond raises the dagger, glancing between its shining blade and your lips while you ready yourself, one hand clenching at the black silk of your skirts. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises.

You hold stock-still, gasping when he presses the cool edge of it against your lower lip, yet your eyes don’t leave his when he finally cuts – nicking your delicate flesh just enough to draw blood before offering you the dagger. Grasping it, you mirror his steps exactly, just as careful with him.

Setting the dagger to the side, you both reach up at the same time, swiping a thumb over your own lip before reaching out. Your arms intertwine when you brush each other’s foreheads, leaving behind two crimson lines.

His gaze never breaks from yours as he takes the blade again and carefully cuts his palm, holding it out to you again and waiting while you do the same, gasping at the sharp sting. Finally, the two of you join hands, blood mingling together as a few drops of it splatter on the stone floor as Balerion bears witness to your union.

“Hen lantoti ānogar, va syndroti vāedroma, mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr,” he recites, murmuring the words with care, making sure to enunciate each syllable, to make the vows unmistakeable to whichever ghosts may be listening, “Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteksi, hen jeny māzīlarion,” (Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass.)

Aemond pauses, taking a breath as he squeezes your hand with his, echoing your smile.

“Qēlossa ozūndesi, syndroro ōñō jēdo, ry kīvia mazvestraksi,” he finishes, all but breathing the last few words as his eye grows misty. (The stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.)

The two of you stand still for a moment like you’re waiting for the world to crash down around you and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours as your palms press together, both of you seemingly in shock at finally, finally having everything you’ve ever wanted.

You can’t tell who moves first but suddenly you’re crashing against him, dagger clanging as it hits the floor, while the two of you clutch at one another desperately, uncaring of the blood smearing on your clothes.

Your lips press against his like they’re a lifeline and you moan at the touch, swiping your tongue over his while you grab at the lapels of his jacket. His hands cup your cheeks, staining one with red, before carding through your hair.

“Gods,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours while the two of you pant, breathing out soft laughs. “My little wife…” He says the word slowly, lets it drag over his tongue.

“Husband,” you reply between soft kisses to his cheek, head spinning at how a word that once had to be dragged from you, that had scraped against your skin like thorns, now felt like silk slipping cooly over you.

Your brother growls deep in his chest and his eye flutters shut for a second before his hands are at your waist again and he’s walking you backwards, only a few paces, until you’re pressed against one of the stone columns surrounding the great dragon’s skull. Though your landing is soft, it wrenches a gasp from you all the same but you don’t have time to question his intent before his lips are on yours again.

You moan into the kiss, matching each of his deep groans with one of your own as your tongues tangle together. “Aemond,” you pant when he begins trailing kisses down across your jaw and neck, “What –”

He nips at your cleavage then and you can feel him smirking at the loud whine he pulls from you, soothing the skin after with a sweet kiss before sinking to his knees before you. The sight is enough to make you weak – the man that loves you more than eternity itself, who loves you enough to do terrible, monstrous things, kneeling at your feet and staring up at you like you are his salvation.

Your hands tangle in his soft hair while he pulls at your skirts, pushing them up and out of the way, kissing your thighs as he goes. “You had the chance to worship at your altar, sweetest little wife,” he pants, groaning when he pushes your smallclothes to the side and licking his lips at the sight of your cunt, still wet with your combined spend, “Now let me worship at mine.”

That’s the only warning you get before he dives in, lapping at your center with a loud, satiated growl. Your head thuds back against the column while your eyes are fixed, half-lidded, on Balerion, on the fire that surrounds him.

You understand, then – the curtains of fire that blanketed the continent were necessary to conquer it, just as blood was necessary to bind the two of you. Perhaps one day you’ll be called to answer for that, but even then you would do it a thousand times over; even if the dark, shadowy parts of yourself, of him, lead to the deepest pits of the Seven Hells. You would do it, again and again, for him.

You were always meant to burn together.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

consider adding yourself to my tag list or check out my works on ao3!

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jobean12-blog · 11 months ago

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Promise Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1,080

Summary: Joel is not happy when he finds out you left to go search for something and didn't tell him...

Author's Note: Just a little angry (but soft always) Joel because he's overly protective and needs you to be ok. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty bits here and there but only bc Joel is protective and you're his, softness, spicyness and some fluff

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Joel shoots to his feet with a string of grumbled expletives, intending to go out and start his second search of the day when he hears the sound of soft footfalls on the stairs.

His heart starts to beat wildly as he waits to see who’s at the door. It opens to reveal you, looking as beautiful as ever, and with that his anger reaches its boiling point.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Your entire body startles with a strangled scream and you drop something to the floor. You back up against the wall and search for some light, finally noticing him seconds later.

“Oh my god Joel! Are you crazy?”

Some of his anger deflates at your panicked tone, but not all.

“I’m not the crazy one! Crazy would be leaving for half the damn day and not tellin’ me where you’re off to!”

With a scoff you reach down to pick up what fell from your hands. “I didn’t know I had to report all my comings and goings to you!”

His chest heaves with his labored breathing and he steps closer.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” he warns.

You stay silent as you stuff the contents of your hand into your jacket pocket, trying to skirt past him and into the small space you call home.

He’s had enough, stopping your progress with a firm hand on your waist.

He spins you around until you’re caged against the counter, his arms resting on either side of you, and leans in close.

“Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been? I’m not goin’ to ask again darlin’.”

You get right in his face.

“I went looking for something ok! And I found it. And I’m fine.”

His eyes sweep over you, assessing you so closely you feel stripped bare.

He doesn’t move away but heaves a yielding sigh of your name.

Your expression softens with a frown and when his head drops toward his chest you tentatively reach for his jaw, pressing your fingers to the patchy scruff to lift his eyes to yours again.

“Joel?”

“I...,” he starts quietly. “I thought somethin’ happened to you!,” he says, much louder now.

His agonized eyes meet yours and after a moment’s hesitation, he speaks again.

“Believe it or not, I care about you. More than you know. The last few hours have been pure hell, darlin.’ You think it’s funny to scare the shit out of me?”

“No,” you answer quietly. “I don’t think it’s funny and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Then why were you gone all day angel?” he demands.

“Well…I,” you begin hesitantly, then blow out a breath. “I wanted to find some crayons! I found a coloring book the other day but I have no crayons! It took longer than I expected. I thought I would be back before you even missed me.”

When he just stares at you blankly you continue talking, your voice barely above a whisper when you ask, “do you want to color with me?”

He remains quiet and you add, “I’m sorry.”

He nods and slides his hand into your pocket, carefully pulling out the worn box of crayons.

“All that for some crayons?” he muses softly.

“I love to color,” you say with a small shrug. “Don’t be mad.”

Resolute in his anger he doesn’t reply but keeps you caged in, his eyes dropping to your lips.

With tentative movements you brush the fallen hair from his forehead and trace the line of his jaw before pressing a kiss just under his ear.

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

Another kiss, this time lingering on his neck.

He can feel his defenses slipping and against his better judgement he leans into your touch, the feel of you threatening to completely topple his anger.

Your hands start to trail down his chest toward his stomach but he grasps them, dragging you into his embrace.

“Say it again,” he growls. “Promise me you’ll never leave me like that. Never again.”

“I promise Joel.”

He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of your wrist then letting the other hand slide down your back, satisfied when your breath hitches in your throat.

“Good,” he murmurs, pressing you against his body, lining you up with every inch of him.

A roll of his hips lets you feel his need and your eyes close, parting on a moan.

“Are you still mad?” you ask. “We could color? It might help you relax.”

His head dips slowly, his warm breath fanning your lips before he closes the distance and cuts off your surprised gasp with his mouth. He grabs the back of your neck and commands the kiss, only deepening it when you bite his bottom lip.

His possessive growl is followed by a question spoken directly against your parted, swollen lips.

“Do you see what you do to me?”

His breath shudders in and out, sounding loud in the quietness surrounding you. He works open the button of your jeans, then slips his big hand down the inside of your panties.

“Next time you need somethin’ you come to me,” he says. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

Your head rolls back and your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, your breathy affirmation driving his fingers right where you want them.

He leans down and brushes his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I protect what’s mine.”

The next morning, by the soft glow of the rising sun, you sit on the makeshift bed, your back to Joel’s chest and your knees pulled up with the coloring book resting on them.

“I forgot how small these things are.”

You study his hand. Long, thick fingers dwarfing the green crayon held between them.

“Nah. Your hands are just really big,” you purr. “And I lo…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know angel. You love ‘em.”

“I love, love, love them!” you exclaim, feeling his light chuckle.

You snuggle closer to his warmth and rest your head back along his chest.

“You have to stay inside the lines,” you playfully chide.

“Well, it’s not that easy from this position!” he shoots back.

“I can move over here…”

He tightens his grip, not allowing you to move an inch out of his arms.

“Don’t. I need to keep you close.”

“Forever?” you ask with a giggle.

He gently grasps your chin and tilts your head back to meet his eyes, his expression fierce.

“Forever angel.”

@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #tlou

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kwanisms · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober 「10:16」 — s.changbin

» stray kids menu | changbin menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ werebear!Changbin × fem!Reader wc: 4.1k summary: Changbin just wanted to have a nice camping trip with his girlfriend but she has other ideas. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: fishing, cleaning said fish, camping, storms, food & alcohol consumption; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: so this one is a follow up to last years (which I just posted and I’m sorry about that lol) but werebear!Changbin lives rent free in my head. I love the concept but tbh any werecreature concept for Changbin is so good and I will die on this hill. Thank you for reading! The next one is a Seventeen one with a certain maknae. So please look forward to that! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), outdoor sex (it's fucking in tents lol i'll see myself out), strength kink, oral (m receiving, f receiving), deepthroating, fingering (f receiving), protected sex (do this. Use protection like them), use of pet names (hers: baby, babe, etc.; his: babe, Binnie, bear, etc.), soft dom!Changbin, switch!Reader, that should be all but let me know if I missed something! kinks: Outdoor sex + strength kink dialogue prompt: ❛❛ I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my- ❜❜

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This wasn’t exactly how he envisioned his camping trip with his girlfriend going but Changbin wasn’t complaining, not when you looked so pretty on top of him, taking his cock like it was made for you and you alone.

The trip had started out innocent enough, driving to the national park where Changbin often went camping on his own. This was the first time he was taking you with him and he had been beyond ecstatic to show you around his stomping ground.

Your initial worry of running into something dangerous dissipated quickly when Changbin reminded you that it wasn’t the wolves, or the bears, or the big cats that were the scariest thing in the forest. It was him.

Not long after the fateful night you gave yourselves to each other, Changbin told you the truth. He was plagued with a curse that often left him irritable, standoffish, and withdrawn once a month: he was a werebear. It came as a shock and at first, you tried to play it off but the more he explained, the more everything started to make sense.

His terrible mood swings that always seemed to happen once a month, and always around the full moon. His unexplainable illness that also accompanied his irritability. The inexplicable display of strength he showed that night and ever since. It wasn’t until your first full moon with him that you truly understood.

He’d taken you with him, ensuring you would be safe as he locked himself in a shed, hidden deep within the woods, deeper than you thought anyone would normally venture and well off the beaten path. He’d shown you the truth and while the thought of it terrified you, there was an undeniable attraction to the raw show of strength he exhibited when he nearly tore the bars from the windows of his makeshift cell.

Since then, you’d been by his side, thankful he chose to share that side of him with you so that you would not only know what you were getting yourself into but also because it meant he trusted you with his secret. Your relationship with Changbin blossomed naturally, albeit not in the order most relationships did but you wouldn’t change anything about it.

After being together for nearly two years, he finally decided he was sick of having his own space and wanted to find a place you could share together. You offered to let him move into your apartment and as much as he liked your place and the memories it held, he wanted to find a new place for you to make yours, together.

It had taken nearly 6 months to find a place that met your criteria but once you were both on the same page, you found a cute two bedroom top floor apartment not far from your current building. It was another historic building in the quiet part of town, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. The move was easy when you had a boyfriend who despite his smaller stature could very easily lift boxes that would make any ordinary man buckle under the weight.

The furniture was easy as well. Your couch was moved in the middle of the night so no one would see Changbin singlehandedly carrying it up the stairs of the new building. Your bed, being bigger than Changbin’s and much more comfortable, was carried in the same way: under the cover of night.

Whatever didn’t fit in the new apartment was put in a storage unit until you could sell it, which Changbin graciously offered to pay for. The new apartment was bigger than both of your old ones but still cozy and comfortable.

The dark hardwood floors contrasted well with the lighter tone walls. The kitchen faced the small balcony with floor to ceiling windows that separated the two. Vaulted ceilings made the space feel much bigger and Changbin enjoyed living on the top floor with no one above him.

The other nice thing about this building was the walls were thick which meant you didn’t have to be quiet during your more vigorous activities, a quirk Changbin took full advantage of as he made sure to break in every new surface of the kitchen by either bending you over it or laying you back on top of it.

Only after being settled into the new apartment, did Changbin ask you to go camping with him. Fall was settling in, a distinct chill in the air as the leaves of the few trees in the city started to turn. Browns, oranges, yellows, and even reds decorated the branches before the leaves inevitably fell to the ground to be swept away by some street cleaner if the wind didn’t get to them first.

You were beyond excited to go camping with Changbin. You hadn’t been since you were quite young and the prospect of being alone in the woods with your boyfriend posed many new experiences for the both of you. The thought of sharing a tent in the middle of the forest with a campfire, so far from anyone, sounded equal parts spooky and romantic.

Changbin had most of the essential camping gear packed away in the storage unit and once retrieved and all things accounted for, there were only a few items you still needed to get. A trip to the closest outdoor good store fulfilled the rest of the items needed and after requesting time off from work, you were on your way out of the city to spend a week in the woods with your werebear boyfriend.

What could possibly go wrong?

Despite how smooth things went from leaving to arriving at the forest, your trip seemed to be plagued by some dark cloud as not even ten minutes into your hike, you tripped over a downed log and fell, scraping your hands and knees. Changbin was ready with the first aid kit, cleaning and disinfecting the wounds before patching you up.

He kept a much more watchful eye on you from then on, making sure to help you over anything he deemed remotely dangerous. He jokingly offered to carry you, pack and all, if you kept tripping over things. You briefly thought about taking him up on his offer when you slipped over a moss covered rock but ultimately decided to just be more careful and cautious.

The first stop of your trip ended with you camping several yards from a river that wound through the entire forest. Changbin initially was going to set up right beside it but after noticing the sky, he decided higher ground was a smarter move. When you asked him about it, he said it was his intuition.

That night, you were eternally grateful for the extra blankets and even portable heater he brought, not that his body wasn’t a portable heater in of itself. The temperatures plummeted down near freezing as a massive thunderstorm blew in. Changbin’s intuition was right on the money. The torrential downpour made the river swell to twice the size it had been the day before and due to his smart decision making, you were safe from the roaring river that raged just a few yards from your tent.

Changbin made sure you were kept snug and warm, using the portable heater while he was awake before using his body warmth to keep you from freezing. It did the trick and once you got warm initially, you never got cold again throughout the night.

The next morning looked like the scene out of a disaster movie. Branches littered the shore of the river which had reduced in size almost back down to what it had been before. There were even some litter like old tires and even a torn up tent that had washed downriver. The last one had Changbin concerned and after leaving for a brief hike, he discovered an old abandoned camping site which he surmised the tent had come from.

Though you were ready to pack up and move on, Changbin assured you that the second night wouldn’t be as rough. You instead kept camp by the river, going for a hike with Changbin, following the river as it got faster and faster until the forest opened up and the river gave way to a fantastic cascade that plummeted down the side of a massive cliff at least thirty feet.

At the bottom was a deep pool where the water collected before continuing on into the river and snaking through the trees before disappearing out of sight. You wanted to climb down and check it out but Changbin promised next time, he would plan a course that included this spot.

After your hike, you returned to camp and Changbin surprised you by pulling out a couple of fishing rods. You’d never been fishing as you always thought it was kind of boring and the idea of skewering a worm on the end of a hook had your skin crawling.

Thankfully your boyfriend took over, hooking the bait before showing you how to cast. It wasn’t exciting by any means, waiting for the fish to bite but once you did hook a fish, you were so ecstatic, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Changbin had to take over, reeling it in for you until the fish finally flopped out of the water and danced for a moment on the end of your line.

It was a trout, he told you. The first one of the day and you caught it. After the initial shock and excitement wore off, you were ready to go again but you still refused to bait your own hook, something Changbin didn’t mind doing at all.

After several hours, you managed to catch quite a few fish. Changbin showed you how to gut and clean the fish, tossing the insides back into the water where he told you it’s actually beneficial to the ecosystem. Other creatures feed on the entrails like crawdads and other fish. It’s better to toss them in the water than leave them on the banks.

Dinner that night was the fish Changbin cleaned and fileted with some veggies and a few mushrooms he found on your hike. After dinner, you relaxed by the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided while drinking a beer from the pack brought on the trip.

The next morning, you helped pack up and continued on past the river and further into the forest. The next stop was right at the edge of a clearing down the mountain from where you had stayed. Changbin was certain this was a good place to camp, taking note of the tall grass that looked wholly untouched by the rains from the other night.

He found a nice flat spot in the shade of the trees to set up the tent as well as an old fire pit ringed in rocks. While he tried to set up the tent, you kept distracting him. You weren’t sure what it was about how he looked that morning when you woke up but you couldn’t seem to keep your hands to yourself. The extra attention you gave him made him blush but he couldn’t complain with all the additional kisses and lingering touches. He liked it.

After he finally got the tent set up, he entered to unfurl the mats to place under the sleeping bags. You followed him, helping him with the pillows until you couldn’t take it anymore and needed to have your hands on him. Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle as your hands wandered, feeling up his bicep as he flexed, pulling the sleeping bags from their stuff sacks one by one.

“I’m trying to set up our tent,” he said softly, grabbing one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “You’re distracting me,” he added, chuckling as your hands moved, sliding over his chest as you moved behind him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck. “What's gotten into you?” he asked as he laid out the sleeping bags over the mats.

Instead of answering him, you placed light kisses along his neck, enjoying the way he paused, tilting his head to give you more access. “Seriously,” he sighed as one of your hands slid down his stomach to palm over his semi-hard cock. “What's going on?” he asked.

You nipped at the skin below the shell of his ear, hand massaging against him harder and making him groan as he paused, eyes fluttering shut. “Can’t even wait for me to finish?” he murmured, moving his hand over yours as he lightly bucked into your touch.

“Let me finish this and then I’m all yours,” he murmured, pulling your hand back as much as he didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than for you to have your hands all over him but he also wanted to make sure the tent was set up fully.

You whined, pouting at him as you moved your hand back, making him chuckle. His breath caught as your hand slipped into his pants, darting under the waistband of his underwear to firmly grasp his hot cock in your warm hand. “Fuck,” he groaned as you started to stroke him. “Baby, what has gotten into you?” he asked again as you started to stroke him faster.

“Am I distracting you?” you whispered in his ear as his hips chased your movements, bucking against your hand. “Why don’t you keep going?” you added, nipping at his earlobe. “I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my – hng!” he groaned as your hand squeezed him a little harder.

He grabbed your wrist, holding it steady as he rutted into your touch. “F-fuck, baby. Gonna cum if you keep doing that.” At his words, you pulled your hand from his pants, ignoring the glare he gave you until you pushed him back against the sleeping bags and grabbed the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down past his hips and quickly taking hold of his cock again.

Changbin let out a gasp, head falling back as your hand moved up and down his shaft before taking the tip into your mouth, your tongue warm and went against his skin. He let out a guttural moan as your head sank down, taking as much of his thick cock onto your mouth as you could, teeth lightly scraping against the skin.

His hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you down more. “Holy shit, babe,” he gasped as you took more and more of him in, relaxing your jaw and pushing until his cockhead was nestled against the back of your throat.

Letting out a shaky breath, Changbin raised his head slightly, taking in the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth. He groaned as he felt your swallow against the tip of his cock, aching for it to be buried in your throat. As if you read his mind, you forced your head down, the head of his cock pushing into your throat and he choked out a moan, hips bucking slightly as he held your head down.

Your lungs begged for air but you waited, saliva starting to spill from your mouth and drip down the small part of his cock that didn’t fit into your mouth. “Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned as you swallowed around him, feeling his cock throb and twitch against your tongue. “M’gonna cum,” he breathed out, fingers tightening their grip on your hair as he thrusted once more, thick ropes of cum shooting out of him and painting your throat.

You wait until the last of it finished spurting from him before you pulled back, his cock slipping from your throat and mouth and air finally invading your lungs as you inhaled deeply. You look at your boyfriend, watching as his chest rose and fell, head lying back against the sleeping bag. His eyes fluttered open taking in your triumphant expression. “Fuck that was so hot,” he groaned as you pulled his pants up over his now flaccid cock.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now,” he said as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “But I like it,” he said with a crooked grin. You wiped your lips on your sleeve, giving him another smile. You started to pull away but he grabbed your wrist. “Let me return the favor,” he croaked. You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you replied, voice slightly hoarse. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he replied, gently pulling you to take his place, lying down where he’d just been laying moments before. He quickly peered outside the tent, grabbing your packs and bringing them inside to set against the side of the wall. He zipped up the tent entrance and turned to you, moving to grab your leggings and pull them down, slipping your boots off at the same time.

He made quick work of your panties, pulling them off before settling down on his stomach, face level with your pussy. He licked his lips, spreading your folds before giving you a slow lick from your entrance to your clit, his tongue flat against you. He let out a groan as his tongue swirled around your clit, the vibrations making you gasp as your back lightly arched off the ground.

“Binnie,” you breathed out, fingers combing through his curls as he lapped greedily at your cunt, savoring the taste as he moved his hands, holding your hips in place. He groaned against your skin as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your thighs squeezed his head slightly as he suckled on the sensitive nub. “B-Binnie,” you moaned, your free hand moving over his on your hip.

You pulled his hand up, guiding it under your sweatshirt to your chest. Taking the silent plea, Changbin pushed your sweatshirt up, groping your breast as he continued to suck and tease your clit with his tongue. His hand slipped under your bra, palm hot against your skin as he kneaded.

Without breaking contact with your pussy, he moved his hand, squeezing under your back to undo your bra clasp with expert precision before pushing the cups up to expose your tits. Both of his hands cupped your chest as he kept his mouth trained on your pussy. You placed a hand over his as he kneaded your tits, lightly raking your nails against his scalp with your other hand.

You felt his teeth graze your clit and your hips rolled up into his face, grinding against him. He let you, holding his tongue flat against your clit as you continued to buck your hips, riding his face as your orgasm drew closer and closer. Changbin moved his hands down, sliding them under your ass as he focused all his attention on your clit, letting you grind against his tongue.

You moaned loudly, a firm grip on his hair while your other hand fondled your chest, pinching one of your nipples as you came, moaning a chant of your boyfriend’s name and a slew of curses as he helped you ride out your high. Changbin lapped up every drop of your release, his cock painfully hard against the sleeping bag.

You gasped as you came down from your climax, Changbin wiping his mouth with his shirt as he crawled over you, kissing up your stomach and chest, stopping to run his tongue over your nipple before he enveloped it with his mouth, suckling softly. He pulled back, letting it fall from his mouth before he took you in a sear kiss, tongue invading your mouth quickly.

You felt his cloth covered cock, hard again, against your crotch. “Binnie, baby,” you whined, rolling your hips up to meet his. “I need you.” He chuckled against your skin, littering kisses along your neck. “Is my baby impatient?” he asked softly, his hands pulling your sweatshirt up over your head and pulling your loose bra off, leaving you completely nude under him.

“Yes,” you breathed as his hands cupped your chest, squeezing the supple flesh and moving to roll your nipples between his fingers. “Needs me to fuck her immediately?” he whispered, kissing along your collarbone to your shoulder. You clawed at his shirt, pulling it up his back as you begged him with soft pleas. Changbin obliged, sitting up to pull his shirt off.

“Binnie,” you whined, hands moving to his waistband and tugging to pull him closer. “Please, bear,” you moaned as he grinded his hard cock against your soaking cunt, wetting his sweats. “Please baby, please.” His cock twitched in his pants and he moved to grab his pack, unzipping one of the inner pockets where he kept the condoms.

He pulled one out, setting the bag back against the wall of the tent. You watched him with wide eyes as he pushed his pants and underwear down in one go, shimmying out of them with the tip of the condom wrapper in his teeth. You licked your lips, eyes drinking in his naked body hungrily as he tore open the packet and carefully rolled the latex down his length.

He didn’t need to ask if you were ready, his fingers moving to your entrance and pushing two into you with ease. He still wanted to make sure you were properly stretched before he even attempted to fill you with his thick cock. Your hips moved against his hand as he fit a third into you, pumping steadily in and out of your walls. Your back arched, moaning wantonly as he curled his fingers against your inner walls. “Binnie,” you whimpered, grabbing at his arms and tugging him.

“Please fuck me,” you breathed. “I need you, baby.”

Changbin withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the tip of his cock and pushing the head into you with a sigh. You let out a content moan as he slowly slid into you, stretching your cunt as you accommodated his girth. Once he was full inside you, he started a slow, steady pace, holding your hips in place as he rutted into you.

“Feels so good,” you gasped. “Feels so f-full.”

A groan escaped Changbin as he fucked into you more roughly, hands spreading your thighs as he held you down. Your hands grabbed at him, pulling him closer as your walls sucked him in over and over. Taking the silent plea, he repositioned, putting your legs over his shoulders as he leaned over, folding your body in half as he thrust down into you roughly.

He learned quickly that this was your favorite position. You had called it the mating press and told him you loved how it made you feel like you were at his mercy. You always complimented his strength in and out of the bedroom and it always made him feel a surge of pride.

“How’s that?” he grunted, pinning you down as he rocked into you, cock filling your cunt with each harsh thrust. “S’good. Fuck, baby!” you cursed, brows knitted together in pleasure. “So strong, Binnie. Love it when you pin me down.” A deep growl emanated from Changbin’s chest as his pace increased, slamming into you roughly, the sound of skin against skin filling the tent.

You cried out as his cock hit the spot deep in you that had your toes curling. “Fuck, right there, baby,” you gasped as Changbin continued to hit the same spot. “Right there?” he asked in a low tone, holding back a moan as you clenched around him. “Right there!” you moaned. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that!”

Changbin slammed into you harsher as your walls clamped down on his cock, an orgasm ripping through you unexpectedly as you came, coating his cock in your release as you writhed in pleasure, screaming his name repeatedly.

Changbin fucked you through your orgasm before he carefully let your legs fall back down. He stilled, kissing your face as you came down slowly. “Think you can ride me for a bit, baby?” he whispered in between kisses. You nodded eagerly, sitting up as he slipped out of you, taking your spot on his back as you hurriedly climbed over him.

He let out a chuckle at your eagerness, groaning as you lined the tip of his cock with your pussy and sank down on him, a moan escaping both of you as your walls welcomed him back in. You gave him only a second to adjust before you started moving, bouncing on his cock and making him groan, hands grabbing your hips as he helped you move.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum.” You placed your hands on his chest as you rode him harder, faster with a smirk on your lips.

��That’s the idea.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

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readychilledwine · 5 months ago

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Peace in the Violence

Eris Week - Day 5 - War and Adventure

Summary - When the battle for Autumn doesn't end by your one year anniversary, Eris has no choice but to share one more night with you during the heat of war

Warnings - war, mentions of death, smut, using sex as a coping mechanism

A/N - I will be completely honest, I was most excited for this prompt for @erisweekofficial, and I almost was not going to partake this day until this happened. She is only a little thing, but I do love her and her potential.

So many people bash on the sex scenes on ACOWAR, but I don't think they see the bigger picture with them. Those scenes are meant to remind you of what the characters are fighting for. The sex is meant to be symbolic of so much more than sex. SJM, in my opinion, can not properly execute a smut scene during war. Hopefully, I conveyed what I feel those scenes are supposed to represent with this.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

A rough roll of his hips had you gasping as Eris began to lose his gentleness. He was desperate to feel anything besides the looming fear of the battle that was coming. Eris was a skilled warrior, a natural fighter, and had been preparing his whole life for this, but the efforts to dethrone his father were making him question everything.

The war in Autumn had left far too many wounded and more dead. What was supposed to be a simple siege of the Forest House was now more. It was Beron with a legion protecting him. Eris with 6 High Lords in a tent waiting to call their armies. It was Beron refusing the blood duel while Eris put all of his magic into containing battle to just the area they were in to protect the fae of this court. His fae. His court.

You gasped below him before a strangled cry of pleasure tried to leave your throat. It was as if Eris couldn't hear you below him, like he was using all of his tricks to drive more noises from swollen lips. “Eris,” it was a broken call of his name, trying to pull him back to you. To remind him you were the one below him.

His wife. His mate. His love. The one he had set this very fire for.

His eyes met yours and he slowed before forcing you both to roll over, silent admission he could not be in control tonight. He wanted to laugh. One year. One year of marriage spent in bliss, and it was bliss he hoped to seek in this moment of peace you two shared.

Hands. Hands touching your thighs, your hips, your back. Hands roaming every inch of you. Desperate. Aching. Yearning. This wasn't the trip he had planned for your anniversary, but war waits for no male.

When you began to move slowly, he couldn't stop the whimper that fell through his throat.

He was seeking sex.

You had been seeking to make love.

Every bounce was at the pace he was hungry for, his hands settling on your hips to help guide you. You leaned down to kiss him, hands on his chest as he began to meet your movements, pace slowed to savor this instead of rushing.

There were no promises of this happening again, no guarantee that after battle tomorrow your husband would be in bed.

But you had tonight.

You had now.

“I love you,” the words left his mouth in a hushed tone. He needed to say them, to whisper them until his voice and words were etched in your bones.

Eris knew as he was making love to you, as he cherished you on his night, that tomorrow he may die. He knew he was the target in these battles. Not his brothers who so bravely came to his side. Not the soldiers he had been recruiting in secret. Him.

And tomorrow, before you woke up, Rhysand will have taken you to Velaris, hiding you from Beron if Eris will to fail. His mother was already there. His hounds. His wife belonged there too, safe, beautiful untouched.

He memorized every inch of you as you leaned back, pace increasing to give him what he was desperate for. He memorized every freckle, curve, the exact shade of your lips and eyes.

He memorized the noise you made as his thumb brushed your clit, the way your body seemed to shake before you could continue.

He memorized your face as you fell apart for him, forcing his own body to hold back to listen to every note in the song you began to sing.

And when he finally tumbled over the edge, you memorized his soft cry.

This wasn't how Eris planned to spent your anniversary, handing Rhysand your things as you slept clueless to what was happen. This wasn't what he wanted as he kissed you for what could have been the last time. It wasn't all he needed to say as he whispered he loved you again.

His world shifted as Rhysand winnowed your sleeping form to Velaris and he began to pull on the dark illyrian leathers he had borrowed, Azriel waiting in tow, watching Eris prepare to assassinate his father in his sleep.

Risky, unhanded, and cheap.

But war waits for no man.

Not even in his sleep.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

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edensdahlia · 2 years ago

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༊*·˚ Next Door Slut

CHARACTERS: Simon Riley x M! Reader (F! Reader here)

RATING: NSFW

CONTENTS: Civilian reader, male masturbation (solo + assisted), slightly possessive + jealous Simon, he’s your neighbor, mentions of smoking, reader is implied to have slept around, may be tense issues in the writing, protected sex (stay safe y’all), anal fingering, multiple orgasms, biting, brief mention of blood, praise, nicknames used: love, sweetheart

ೃ⁀➷ WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Simon was trying to sleep- truly he was. Perhaps one of the least odd facts about the man concerned his sleeping schedule, particularly his fondness of early bedtimes. Maybe it was the remnants of being forced awake at ungodly hours of the morning or something simpler like the comfort found in routine. Regardless, it didn’t change the fact that it was you who was disturbing his much-needed rest- you and whatever guy you’d managed to pick up this time.

The apartment walls were made of shitty drywall and thin enough that they left no room for the imagination as your headboard banged noisily against the wall parallel to his bed. There was no rhythm to it, just sloppy, stuttering, sounds that matched the cadence of your moans. They were cheap, spilling from you easily with a pitch that was too high. Too fake. He could recognize the underlying falsity in them but that didn’t stop his shorts from tenting. His body acted before his mind could stamp down the rush of heat. It was annoying how easily you could rile him up without even trying; without knowing.

Simon ran a hand reluctantly over his arousal, hissing quietly. You let out another moan, this one higher than the last, a choking gasp of a name. From the sound of it, your voice was being muffled by pillows- and Simon could almost imagine it, the arch of your back, your mouth hanging open- and god it wasn’t fair. The way these men got to have you. You with your bright eyes and teasing smile.

This hadn’t been the first time you’d brought someone back to your apartment. Far from it in fact. He’d grown almost used to the sound of you lost in your pleasures, except he knew you didn’t take enjoyment in it. The moans you uttered now were only for the sake of the man above you, nothing like the ones you made when you were by yourself. When you thought no one could hear. But he did. Oh, Simon heard it every time, and without fail it landed him where he was now.

Hand fisting his cock, slick sounds joining with your moans. For a moment Simon let himself imagine it was him drawing those noises from you. Imagined it was him above you fucking you into the mattress, with nothing on your lips except his name. There was an added feeling lurking in his stomach, one that wasn’t spurred on by his overwhelming need to get off. One which he didn’t want to admit the existence of.

After all, you were just his neighbor who he occasionally spoke to. It was already embarrassing enough that he was sitting here stroking one out to you, he didn’t need his mind plagued by jealous thoughts of how much better he could treat you.

Simon shifted, his body burning as he dug his heels into his mattress and pressed his nail into his slit. It drew a strange guttural sound from him, one you mimicked in the form of a shaking whine as you came. Or pretended to at least. It wasn't fair. His hips canted upwards, and he came with a muffled groan, his spend coating his hand and the lower half of his shirt.

On the other side of the wall, it fell silent. Exhausted Simon used his shirt to clean his hand and then he pulled the material up and over his head, tossing it to the other side of his room. His head hit his pillows and it didn’t take long before his breathing went ragged and then slowed. The last thought on his mind was of your face twisted in pleasure below him.

♡ 。

There was a light breeze blowing through the compound and on any other day, it would have felt nice except it was hindering Simon’s ability to get his lighter to fucking work. Frustrated he thumbed the serrated metal wheel, hand cupped cautiously around the non-existent flame until finally, it sputtered to life catching the butt end of his cigarette.

Satisfied Simon drew in a long breath relaxing as he felt the first hit settle the restless jitter that seemed to reside deep in his bones. Exhaling slowly he began sorting through his mail, smoke curling lazily above his head.

“Late morning?”

The sound of your voice so close behind him had Simon tensing memories of last night flooding back to him full force. It hit like a punch to the stomach and had he been a lesser man he would’ve grimaced in shame from the knowledge of what he’d done. Instead, he flicked his gaze to you watching from the corner of his eye as you jammed your key into the mailbox next to his and turned it.

“You were loud last night. Could hear you through the damn walls.” Simon grunted returning his wandering gaze back to his mail but not before he saw the mortified look that passed your face. It satisfied something within him that he couldn’t put a name on. Your embarrassment at being caught tasted sweet in his mouth, like a reward.

Your mailbox slammed closed hurriedly the metallic bang! filling the silence momentarily. “I’m sorry- I didn’t realize.” You choked out. He watched as you retreated quickly your footsteps hurried.

Simon wasn’t sure what possessed him- maybe it was the unsatisfied feeling his orgasm had left him with or the building sense of jealousy he was finally admitting may be there- but he turned dropping the cig and stomping it out. His voice called after you in a low growl. “If it was me you wouldn’t have to pretend love.”

He watched as you stalled, shoulders hunching upwards towards your ears and then lowering just slightly. For a moment Simon thought you would run away but you turned gaze meeting his. “Who says I was pretending?” Your tone bordered on defensive, but there was a challenge hidden behind them. Lurking beneath the surface.

Simon’s mouth twitched the barest hint of a smile forming. That was the man he knew. Your embarrassment was delightful but the fire was what he longed for. He sought after the bite in your words if only so he could imagine smothering them with his mouth. Soothing away the edge in your voice with his skin pressed to every inch of you.

Every thought in his mind was consumed with the idea of ruining you and they only got worse as he approached, his face a portrait of lust. He stopped when you two stood side by side, arms just barely brushing, the warmth enough to send shivers up your spine.

“Prove it.”

The words were barely there, a low whisper that could have easily been mistaken for the wind. You shivered again but this time for a different reason as Simon continued past you, not even sparing a glance back. His words lingered in the empty space he had left behind; an open invitation to learn more about the man who until presently had been nothing more than a quick conversation.

♡ 。

Getting to his bedroom was a lot harder than Simon had initially expected. From the moment the door had closed behind you your mouth had been on him as if you were starving and he was the only thing that could satiate your hunger.

Simon would make sure that he was.

He couldn’t stand the idea of someone else having you like this and hated the thought that some had. It made his hands itch, burning with the need to have them around something- the trigger of a gun, or the handle of a knife- anything to bring him that familiar sense of control. Neither were near so he dug them into the fat of your hips instead.

You stumbled through the hallway together teeth knocking as you kissed, fingers bruising skin from where you pulled at each other as if you both were trying to tear the other apart at the seams. Halfway through the door to his bedroom, your clothes were discarded, pulled off in a blur of wandering hands and impatient touches.

Simon pushed you back onto his bed so that your legs dangled just over the edge. It seemed almost perverse to think about how only mere hours ago he had laid there getting himself off to the sound of your moans. But God, he’d be lying if it didn’t get him harder still, especially when you were looking at him in a way that could only be described as sinful- mouth parted and swollen, eyes half-lidded as if he’d done more than kiss you stupid.

Everything you did was maddening. Terribly maddening. Simon rested his hands on either side of your face, his body bent over yours. Slowly he lowered himself down to his elbows. His tongue traced over the corner of your mouth, cleaning away a smear of blood that had found its way there, most likely his own doing. “I am going to ruin you.”

His mouth descended lower burning hot against your already flushed skin and you writhed as sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of your chest, his canines piercing the skin and coming away red. He licked them clean and you watched the slow bob of his Adam's apple. Your voice shook just slightly, “Is that a promise?” He nipped at your hip, hand sliding beneath the band of your underwear and slipping them down past your thighs.

Simon smiled against your skin. “I can promise that once I’m done with you no man will be able to satisfy you like me.” His voice was a low husk against the inner skin of your thigh, his eyes heady as they took in the sight of your exposed hole.

He gathered the pre from your leaking cock and slowly, experimentally pushed a finger into you and then a second picking up in pace as he fucked them into you. You squirmed as his other hand sought out your cock, grip firm as he stroked you at the same pace as his fingers.

“Simon-“ You huffed the stimulation growing to be too much. It’d been far too long since you’d had this kind of focus on you and it made your legs shake. Your orgasm was fast approaching and it seemed that it was his goal to get you there. He twisted his fingers in just the right way that had your head slamming back against the mattress a broken moan being ripped from your chest.

Despite your weak protests, Simon pulled away bringing the hand that was covered in your pre to his mouth, cleaning it off before smiling victoriously.

“Now that was real sweetheart- and I didn’t even have to use my cock.” He swiped his thumb across the head of your cock watching the way you twitched around his fingers, head falling to the side as you let out a small whimper in response. “God you’re breathtaking. How could those tossers not want this?”

“Most of them were drunk-“ You hedged, unsure why you were attempting to defend them. Simon wasn’t having that though. His hand latched back onto you and any thoughts of those other men died at the way his fingers began to work you open again.

It didn’t take long after that to reach your high. You came with a wrecked gasp of his name, grip tightening around the blonde curls on top of his head, your other finding his wrist and holding it in place. Simon gave you a minute to ride it out fingers fucking into you still albeit at a slower pace. Eventually, you relaxed your legs falling around his shoulders loosely, eyes fluttering closed.

The sound of tinfoil being ripped open brought your eyes back to his and then down to where he was rolling the condom onto himself. You held your breath as he slicked the length of him with lube. He was big. Bigger than you had expected.

Simon’s gaze was locked on yours as he resumed his earlier position bent over you. “You okay there sweetheart?” He asked teasingly, using one hand to push your leg up towards your chest and the other to guide himself slowly towards your entrance. You nodded, exhaling slowly.

“There you go love, breathe. I’ll go easy on you.” Simon murmured pushing forward his cock stretching you painfully as he entered inch by inch. He ran his nails up your side soothingly, occasionally stopping to trace over the already bruising bite marks he had left against your skin. His gaze seemed almost affectionate as he admired them.

Once he was sure you had adjusted to the size of him Simon pulled back dragging himself out of you slowly. It took everything in you not to sob as he slammed back into you, picking up a brutal pace that contradicted his earlier words and had you digging your nails into his bicep.

“You’re doing so well sweetheart-” Simon grunted pushing your leg down further against your chest, stretching it in a way that made it ache. His gaze tracked each expression on your face, each twitch of your walls around him. Enthralled with the way your moans spilled from your chest wrecked and shuddering- as if you couldn’t hold them in but were desperately trying to. If you would have opened your eyes you would have seen the almost affectionate look that crossed his face.

As it was you didn’t notice- far too consumed with the feeling of him hitting all the right spots in you and your all too quickly approaching orgasm. And then he pushed your other leg up, joining your first one, and the new angle forced you over the edge. Almost blindingly quick your second orgasm took you. It was a dry orgasm your cock spent from the first but it sent shivers of pleasure up your body nonetheless. You sobbed as Simon pressed his face into your neck and continued his rough pace.

He could feel your hole squeezing him, sucking him in, your body twitching in his grasp. It was driving him crazy. He groaned lowly as you tugged at his hair forcing his gaze to your fucked out expression. “Cum f’me Simon.” You pleaded and who was he to deny you when you asked so sweetly? His hips stuttered against yours, his moan smothered against your mouth as he finally let himself tip over into bliss.

A minute passed and Simon removed himself from you slowly, leaving to toss the condom and returning with a wash rag. He wiped your flushed body down as best he could making sure to be gentle around the bruised bitemarks littering your skin.

“Well?” You murmured as he swiped the rag across your stomach.

“Well, what?”

“Do you think I was pretending with those guys?”

He hummed resuming his cleaning.

“I’m not sure. I think we’ll have to do this again.”

A/N: I just know my notes app is absolutely sick of me- the amount of drafts it has for this fic alone... I have no clue why but I just can’t stay in one document while writing :,) Anyway, if you got to this point thank you for taking the time to read this! Have a wonderful day! (≧∇≦)/ ♡

#₊˚ପ⊹edensdahlia #₊˚ପ⊹pickedpleasures #ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ‘ghost’ riley #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #ghost smut #ghost x male reader #ghost x m! reader #m! reader #call of duty mw2

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luviisabella · 8 months ago

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Catching you masturbating

HEADCANNON

BNHA x Fem’Reader ��🩷

Song: Earned It by The Weeknd or Into It by Chase Atlantic

Summary: Reader got a little bored waiting for her bf. It had been a long Friday too, you just got done having dinner with a friend and you were hoping to come home to your bf, when you don’t see him their you take matters into your own hands. Except.. you didn’t hear the front door unlock..?

Category: NSFW (NOT safe for work) + aged up

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Eijirou Kirishima

Special Character: Tamaki Amajiki

Notes: This is just how I think they’d react seeing their gf do this

EACH CHARACTER HAS THEIR OWN LITTLE STORY SO IT WON’T BE ON ONE PAGE 💗

Katsuki Bakugou

- you had already showered and etc. so you got cozy in your shared bed, only thing missing was your bf

- you texted him asking where he was and got no response (not surprising)

- what was surprising was seeing him drop the grocery bags he had in hand and stare at you dumbfounded while you had your knuckles deep in your- yeah

- but he doesn’t stop you…

Time: [10:23pm] - Im home, where are you? -sent

You set your phone down.. you were really looking forward to watching a movie and popcorn with him tonight.. I mean it’s what you did every Friday night, it was like tradition. He was out God knows where and left you all alone. Alone with your thoughts.. thoughts of how you had been missing him. Missing his touch, his scent, his attention, and the feeling went from being emotional to physical.. the heat traveling down your body, eventually reaching your black lace underwear. It’s all you had on besides his hoodie, that smelled just like him… fuck.

“Hah- mmm” your back slightly arched off the bed, one hand circling at your clit and the other playing with your nipple under the hoodie, legs spread and your underwear to the side. The noises your pussy was making was so lewd and it just added to the tension building in your lower core. You only cared about your release, nothing else. Katsuki wasn’t here to help so you had to do it yourself, which ultimately never felt as good but what could you do about it? Eventually the circles you were tracing led your middle and ring finger further down, eventually sliding in now knuckles deep causing your head to fall back. It was frustrating, not even close to the real thing but waiting would be torment. So you focused on the sounds of your moan filling the room and the sensation of your fingers, you were actually so focused you didn’t hear the door unlock when he came in and took off his shoes.

He was confused seeing your shoes also there at the door, his eyebrows furrowed trying to think about when you came home? His phone had died, so he couldn’t check it. He just assumed you were in your shared room scrolling mindlessly on your phone or reading a book, so he came to check on you. …. “F-fuck, Katsukiiii” you moan out loud and for a second he thought his ears were deceiving him… did you just? No. He heard wrong. Maybe his knock was too light or maybe you were just so caught in the heat of the moment that you didn’t hear anything other then you, but when the door opened, your heart sunk to your ass. The bag of groceries in his hand threatening to spill.. and you two just stared at each other. Your legs were spread, knuckles deep, and wearing his hoodie?? Moaning his name??? The view was so lewd he didn’t know what to do, he could feel the tent growing in his pants from the sight, but that didn’t matter to him.

When he finally knocked some sense as to what was going on he cocked a smirk before leaning on the door in what seemed like a wait for something. “So this is what you do when I’m not here?” his question seemed degrading.. you closed your legs immediately and turned to look the other way, not knowing what to say or do. Usually this little cute act would get you kisses on your forehead, but nope. Instead, he walked over to you after placing the groceries on the floor. You could feel his weight shift the bed when he came to kneel in front of you. His hands on your knees, “You can finish babe, m’ not gonna stop you. You clearly needed this.” and despite not looking at him, you could hear the cockiness in his voice and you rolled your eyes with a soft smile seeing how he didn’t mind anyways.

“I actually.. was hoping you could help me…” you did intend for it to sound more like a question but seeing how you were desperate it sounded more like a statement. His eyebrow quirked up seeing how you were bold enough to say that and who is he to tell you no? He didn’t say anything but your eyes widened a little when you were pulled to the edge of the bed, his hands holding your thighs apart and his head now resting between them. “Kats- ngh” your words cut off by his tongue gently circling your clit. He had no time for words and neither did you. Your hands instinctively reached for his hair, your fingers gently running through it. He loved it. He always took his time with you, never rushed, he loved making you cum over and over and over again.

Seeing how you had already gotten yourself riled up before you were really close the minute he started to insert his fingers, now using both his tongue and hand to work at your dripping cunt. “Ahhh f-fuck that feels sooo good, mm” your head slightly tiltled back, you felt overstimulated seeing as you were stopped before and now it’s him doing it for you. But you wanted this right? That’s why you left the door unlocked isn’t it? Or was it just a coincidence… and the thoughts didn’t matter, because you were seconds away from becoming a mess. “Kats’ m’ gonna cum, m’ gonna cum, pleaseeee” you slightly tugged at his hair impulsively, not enough to hurt him but enough for him to see how much of a mess you were becoming for him. “Katsukiiii…” crying out his name as you cum, instinctively grinding your hips up and down against his tongue and holy shit were you something he could get drunk off.

He kept going, eating you out through your orgasm and it made it so much more intense, your thighs desperately giving out and when he was finished he stood up and licked his lips. Leaning down towards you…

“Next time, I’ll make sure my phone’s charged, that way I can do this for you myself.”

You could feel his dick pressed up against you and knew it was going to be a longgggg night.

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merlincmgirl · 3 months ago

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Title Kink - Commander Mayday x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Your trooper likes hearing you call him Commander, even though you seem unable to remember to say it when speaking with him.

Characters: Commander Mayday

Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader

Word Count: 11,256

Warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving), wall sex, PinV sex, title kink, pushing and pulling in terms of their relationship, trying to wind each other up. pre-established relationship

Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late. I've had some terrible news that has really shaken me, and I've got an awful ear ache that doesn't seem to want to go away. So I'll still be writing the rest of the kinktober stories, it's just that they will be severely behind schedule.

New Recruit inbound. Prepare for arrival.

The words were one of the few communications that Mayday had received off the Empire. He sincerely hoped it was more than just one recruit after all of his requests for reinforcements and supplies.

As always when dealing with the Empire, he was severely disappointed when the transport had landed and a young woman stepped off, two crates being turbo-lifted behind you. This was not what he had expecting. Sure he hadn’t expected much, but a civvie, and two boxes of supplies? It was worse than what he had prepared himself for.

Taking a look at the civvie that the Empire had sent, he hoped you were the officer in charge and that there would be someone coming down behind you. Glancing aboard the craft, he realised that he would have no such luck. You were smaller than him, already wrapped up from the biting winds and freezing temperatures. Well at least he wouldn’t have to dig out some winter gear out for you. Your face was obscured by a heavy scarf and goggles as you walked towards him.

“Commander Mayday?” you asked, voice tentative and unsure.

“Yep, I suppose you’re my new recruit” Mayday remarked, looking you over. He wondered how he would keep you alive from the raiders and the awful conditions on the base.

“That’s right, I’m-” you started but he held up a hand.

“I know who you are. I take it those are my supplies that I requested 3 months ago” he stated, glancing at the crates. He hoped that they had at least brought caf. God knows the men needed it to keep awake during these gruelling nights.

“They are, I’m sorry that there’s not more. Apparently, these were the only ones the Empire desired to send to you” you replied, shivering as the cool blast of air made it’s way through the base.

Mayday grunted, not surprised in the least. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. The droids can bring the supplies in” Mayday instructed, turning around and heading back into the base. At least it was marginally warmer than outside, not much, but enough that he could start to defrost a little.

As you followed after him, two other clone troopers came out one of the side rooms, blasters in hand. You were actually surprised that there wasn’t more of them.

“Oh good, I wondered if you’d left yet. This is our new recruit” he introduced, giving them your name, before turning back to them. “This is Hexx and Veetch, the remainder of my men here on Barton 4” Mayday told you.

There was only 3 clones here on the planet, manning the depot? Where was everyone else? Surely the Empire had sent a whole squadron. Trying to school your face into pleasant neutrality, you sent the troopers a small wave.

“Keep a lookout, it’s been too quiet around here lately” Mayday ordered, clapping both troopers on the shoulders before continuing on. “This way civvie!” he called, and you hurried after him, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ at Veetch and Hexx as you breezed past them.

As Mayday led you round the base, pointing out your quarters, the tiny mess hall, the cargo hold where all the Empire’s precious supplies were kept, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Empire had sent you to. It seemed this little depot was located in the back of beyond, the ass-crack of nowhere. What had happened to the rest of the clones under Mayday?

“So, what got you stuck on this ice-ball of a planet?” Mayday wondered, leading you further into the base.

“I found some things that I shouldn’t have and started asking questions. Turns out the Empire doesn’t like that, so I’ve been sent here as punishment” you explained, taking in how cold and bare everything was. It was just miserable, you didn’t know how the clones could have kept going for this long. “And this is worse than I had expected. Guess I really pissed them off” you mumbled, rubbing your gloved hands up and down your arms. Even through your winter coat, you still felt frozen.

Mayday snorted, turning to glance at you. “Yeah, kid. Seems like you weren’t the only one. What did you find out?” he asked, waiting for you to catch up with his large strides.

“I was an engineer for the GAR before… anyway, I was just looking through some old documents and found an order requisition for some Venators. Nothing too worrying, right? But they were ordered years before the Clone Wars started, and then I started asking why. Someone must have noticed and I quickly got a court martial and banished from Coruscant. Now I’m here, on a planet that’s colder than Hoth’s” you revealed, as he led you to the communication room.

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. So are you a rebel then? Heard they’ve been recruiting people to fight against the Empire” he inquired, eyes running up and down you. You didn’t look particularly threatening, but it was best to be prepared.

“No!” you snorted, shaking your head. “I was just a normal person trying to get by when I found the requisition forms. I’m more curious than rebellious. Don’t worry, Mayday, I won’t be causing you any rebellions or mutinies while I’m stuck here” you smirked, amused at his question. Did he really think you were a spy or something? You were an engineer, you had no idea about any rebellions or how to get in contact with then. Actually, you probably should have, or at least leaked the documentation to the public. Even if it probably would have meant your death. But at least you were still alive, stuck on this frozen planet helping to guard some Imperial supplies.

Mayday stopped, shoulders squaring as he turned to face you fully. “It’s Commander. I understand you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is still a military facility. I expect you to respect that and me, is that clear?” he said, voice firm and steady.

Blinking up at him, you nodded. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when you had met Mayday. He seemed very relaxed and calm for a Commander. His stern gaze and deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach at the casual way he took control of the conversation. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that every time he spoke to you.

Sure, the clones were all handsome and pretty, but Mayday especially looked very rugged and handsome. His long hair and unkept beard had you wondering just how it would feel against the sensitive skin of your neck or between the softness of your thighs. Kriff! You couldn’t be having these thoughts, what if he could tell what you were thinking? Looking up at him, you noticed he hadn’t moved when you answered him.

Mayday raised an eyebrow at you, wanting more from you.

“Yes, Commander” you murmured, feeling your body tingle at that word. Oh no! You wouldn’t be using that word if every time it caused this sort of reaction.

“Good, come on civvie, let’s show you the control room. It’s how you’ll keep an eye on the defences across the sectors. We’ve needed a good engineer around here for a while, so be prepared to be kept on your toes, civvie!” he warned you, lips quirking to send you an amused look. There would be no shortage of hard work around the base. Everything was broken or nearly broken. He hoped you were ready for the challenge.

From that day forward, you had been kept on your toes, just like the rest of the clones. Your early starts would consist of you having some form of breakfast before heading out to monitor the controls and the security system. Every day at least one of the fences broke down or malfunctioned. So everyday you had to repair them as best as you could. There was very little supplies that you could use to help improve the security of the base, so you tended to use whatever was lying around to help you fix things. You’d even asked Mayday if you could take some panels of the walls to help insulate some of the wiring you had used in Sector 1.

While the work was hard, you still because firm friends with Hexx and Veetch, enjoying their witty humour and the way they tried to brighten your day. Your friendship with Mayday had also developed, and most days you enjoyed teasing and poking at him. He didn’t seem to mind, taking it in his stride and giving as good as he got. Sometimes, after coming back from patrol, you made him some hot caf, pressing it into his hands and assuring him he was doing a good job.

And Mayday enjoys all of this, every word and caring gesture that you bestow on him or his brothers. He could see how caring and kind you would have been back on Coruscant, how you would have looked after your family and friends, been the person they needed you to be. You bring so much life to this isolated planet, that it’s like a breath of fresh air, for a moment he could almost forget how lonely and miserable it had been as his men, his brothers, dwindled down to 2.

But there was one thing that surely got on his nerves. Your inability to call him by his rank. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him or show him a report, it was always Mayday. No matter how many times he corrected you or set you extra tasks to do as punishment, you always called him by his chosen name, rather than his rank.

Honestly, if any of his brothers had tried this little bout of insubordination, then he would have had them running laps around the base. A sure fine way to keeping warm. And although his brothers were too well trained to forget such things like rank, he knew he let you off a lot lighter than he would any of them.

“Mayday” you called, holding the datapad that you had to give him tightly in your hand.

From where you were standing, you saw his back stiffen and straighten up. Hexx seemed just as confused as he cocked his helmeted head at you before looking at his Commander.

“Mayday, I have the report you wanted about the defences on Sector 3. They seem to be holding out most of the time, but in the last month, they’ve been a bit spotty. Working only 81% of the time” you reported to him, handing him the datapad.

Even though he was wearing his bucket, you knew that you were riling him up. As he gripped the datapad firmly, his movements stiff and precise as he took it off you, the thought of his face scrunched up into an annoyed scowl had you amused. Flashing a grin and a nod at both of them, you spun around and headed back to your position.

“Sir?” Hexx asked, looking between his Commander and the civvie who was walking away from them.

“It’s a civvie thing, I’ll handle it later” Mayday excused, shaking his head. “We were talking about the droid maintenance” he prompted his vod, half listening to the conversation, the other half planning on how he would get you back.

As you were busy with fixing and insulating a few wires in the cargo hold, a heavily armoured body plopped down beside you. Ignoring them for now, you tried to join the two broken pieces together, but you yelped as a sharp zap landed on your fingertips.

A muffled laugh came from beside you, and you turned to glare at Mayday. “What do you want?” you demanded, sucking your fingertips in the hopes of getting rid of the pain.

“That’s one way to stay warm I suppose” he remarked, tugging off his bucket and placing it beside him. He took your hand in his, examining the burnt patches of skin on your fingers. “You realise you’ll be loosing feeling in your fingers if you keep getting zapped all the time” he remarked, placing your cold fingers on his armour.

It was immediately soothing, and you grumbled because you didn’t want him to think he had won. But it did feel nice to have your fingers cooled by his armour and it was helping with the pain. “Hazard of the job, I’m afraid” you murmured, shrugging slightly as you looked back at the wires. Maybe if you could solder them together, they would still work. But you had to get this fixed, otherwise the sensors would never work again.

“Can I borrow your gloves?” you requested, looking back at him.

Mayday shot you a surprised look, dropping your hand against his armour. “What? Just so you can burn holes into them? We don’t get supply requisitions for armour and stuff you know” he drawled, but was still stripping off his gloves to pass them to you.

“Thanks, I just need them so I can reconnect these wires. And I’m not going to burn them!” you mumbled, slipping them onto your hands. They were a lot bigger than you had expected, and you tugged them up as far as you could go. But there were still too big and they flopped around your fingers. Oh well, they would have to do.

Mayday hid his snort behind his hand as he watched how adorable you looked in his gloves. Carefully keeping an eye on you in case you got hurt again, he relaxed back into the wall behind him. He liked watching you work, the way your attention zeroed in on the problem. The cute little way your brow scrunched up when something didn’t go right or you had to think of another quick fix. A few strands of your hair was hanging into your face, falling loose from the bun you had shoved your hair into. It softened your features, even if you were concentrating on reconnecting the wires.

“Pass me that tool next to your knee, will you?”

Mayday blinked, looking around him at the array of tools laying by him. He picked the closest one to his knee up and handed it to you.

As you brought it up to the wires, you couldn’t help but scowl and thrust it back into his chest. “No, not that one, May! Your other knee!” you snapped, holding your hand out ready.

He huffed, as he always did when you called him by his name instead of rank. Looking down, he did see a tool under his leg, covered by his armour plate. “Not my fault I couldn’t feel it under all this armour” he retorted, passing it over to you.

“Yeah, bloody things are massive. I don’t know how you can carry all that around with you” you said, glancing at him briefly before returning back to your work.

“Discipline. Something you’ve never heard of” he remarked dryly, shaking his head. You wouldn’t have lasted 5 minutes in ARC training.

Snorting, you couldn’t help but agree. Although you had been part of the GAR, discipline had never really been your thing. You were more into the freedom of making your own choices. A luxury you knew you had, especially when compared to the clones. They had little choice to fight in the war, and even less of a choice with the Empire. It was no wonder that Mayday clung to discipline and respect, when it was all that he knew during his time in the GAR. It probably gave him a lost of comfort.

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What has you annoying me while I’m trying to work?” you said, biting your lip as you used the tool in your hand to connect the wires together.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I need you to head to the sensors on the Eastern side. Something isn’t working right, the readings are going haywire. I’ll send Veetch with you to keep an eye out while you work” Mayday instructed, bringing up a map of the compound and pointing out which sensor was playing up.

Sighing heavily, you couldn’t help but agree to go. “Fine, it’ll probably be a fuse. I’ll head out as soon as I finish this” you grumbled, dreading going out there again. You’d fixed one just this morning and had only just gotten some semblance of warmth back into you. God you hated this planet.

Mayday grunted as he pushed himself up, patting your knee on the way. “Good girl!” he murmured, voice low and tired as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I’ll have Veetch meet you outside.”

Instantly heat rushed through your body and you blinked in surprise at your reaction to his words. They curled around your body like heated wisps, skimming over your arms, your middle and down your legs. The apex of your thighs felt damp and you shook yourself at the thought of him calling you that in very different circumstances.

“MAYDAY!” you screamed, rushing through the compound as you clutched the datapad in your hand. Hexx who was at the other end of the corridor jumped, hands briefly reaching for a blaster before he noticed it was you.

“Everything alright, vod’ika?” he asked, eyes widening at the fury that was written all over your face.

“Where is that complete di’kut that you call Commander?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest as you came to a halt in front of him. Anger curled in your stomach at the message you had received off the Empire. Another 6 months on this planet before there was to be any more communication from them. How could this be right? How could you and the clones just be left here on this ice ball with sub-standard supplies and raiders picking you off one by one? How had Mayday just taken all of these orders and been okay with them?

“Technically you should be calling him Commander too” Hexx reminded, shaking his head as he picked up his own datapad to check the diagnostics on the droid.

“Now is not the time, Hexx!” you growled, fist tightening around the datapad and feeling your jaw tighten even more. You’d get a serious jaw ache later but you couldn’t help it, you felt furious at the Empire.

“Fine, fine” he huffed, before nodding his head to the way behind him. “Last time I saw him, he was getting some caf from the mess hall” Hexx informed you, knowing that there would no doubt be an argument about whatever it is that had gotten you so worked up. Best if he and Veetch was to avoid the area for a while.

“Thank you, Hexx” you murmured, following the long corridor down to the mess hall where you hoped you would find Mayday.

Storming in, you pushed the door open so strongly that it bounced off the wall and nearly hit you in the face as it swung back. However, you were too angry to care as you spotted Mayday sitting along at one of the tables, a cup of steaming caf in his hand. From where you were, you could see him let out a heavy sigh and look into the dark contents of his cup.

“Have you seen the latest communication from the Empire?” you demanded, slamming the datapad down on the table in front of him. The metal rattled slightly with the force but you both ignored it.

“I have.”

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re leaving us for another 6 months, Mayday! Another 6 months where we’re fighting on our own, raiders trying to kill us and for what? Some supplies that we’re not even meant to know about?” you snarled, leaning over the table in front of him, staring into his dark, chocolate eyes.

There was silence between you for a moment, only the soft humming of the caf machine and the preservator being heard in the charged silence.

“Mayday! Say something!” you begged, unable to take how quiet the room was and how he just stared at you. His eyes looked sad, betraying his emotionless face.

“What do you want me to say?” he sighed, taking a sip of his caf and refusing to look away from you.

“I-I don’t know! But do something, say something! This is ridiculous! We’re going to die here, Mayday. The Empire doesn’t give a shit about us. Be angry! Be furious and ready to fight for your men!” you shouted, banging your hand down on the table.

His eyes sharpened on you and his face pulled into a displeased scowl at your words. He stared you down, letting you take in your own words. He knew the moment you recognised what you had said, because your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open to apologise but he beat you to it.

“I have fought for my men every single day we’ve been left on this rock! I am trying to protect the ones that are still alive” Mayday reminded sharply, straightening his back and shoulders. “You’re not the only one who is angry, but I don’t have the freedom to choose to scream and shout because I don’t agree with the orders which I’m given” Mayday rebuked, before sliding the datapad back over to you.

“I’m sorry Mayday, I know you’re just looking after Hexx and Veetch while following orders, it’s just… why are we doing this? What’s in those crates? Maybe we should take a look, they might have things that could help” you apologised, sitting down in front of him and taking back your datapad as you made your suggestion.

Mayday growled out your name in warning.

“Maybe I should have gone to the rebels” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“I thought you were more curious than rebellious” Mayday stated, his warm hand reaching out to lay it over yours. Your fingers entwined and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hmm, guess I lied Mayday. I am a little rebellious” you grinned, enjoying the feel of his warm, calloused hand surrounding your small one and giving you comfort. “Maybe I should start a mutiny, you know, that way the Empire would have to come to get us” you teased, eyes almost closing at the feel of his thumb stroking soothing sweeps into your hand.

Mayday let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head. “I will lock you in your room if I have to!” he warned, lips twitching into a smile behind his beard.

“I’m teasing Mayday, you need to loosen up” you suggested, resting your other hand over the back of his, entrapping his hand in between yours.

“Commander!” he corrected, shaking his head as another conversation had been had without you respecting his title once more.

“Whatever. Either way, you need to relax a little” you teased, pulling away so he could grab onto his cup of caf. It would soon go cold in this weather.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any time to relax with you near” he remarked, eyes lighting up at the way you laughed at his words. “Now go, I want to enjoy my caf in peace” Mayday ordered, nodding back to the door you came in.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going” you assured, sending him a soft smile before heading back out to attend to your own duties.

The thought about what was in those crates didn’t leave your head. What was so important that you and your clones had to risk dying for? So the next night, you checked to see who was on watch, noticing Hexx has scheduled to be in the control room keeping an eye on things.

Sneaking through the corridors at night was not something you would recommend. What little heat you had during the day was gone. The ice ball was well below freezing on a night, and the walk to the cargo hold felt like you were walking barefoot in the snow. You were wrapped up warm, and you moved as quietly and as carefully as you could, not wanting to risk waking anyone up or setting off the alarms.

You managed to get into the hold without the alarms going off as you punched in your code, glad that it was working even on a night cycle. There was a number of crates stacked around the room, and you managed to lift one off and set it down on the floor. Whatever was in the boxes were obviously important to the Empire, perhaps you could find a way to hold them to ransom until you could get off this horrible planet.

It was a fools dream, no doubt you’d be put out of commission as soon as you tried it. But your curious nature wouldn’t be sated until you found out what exactly you were guarding. Kneeling down in front of the box, you typed in the opening sequence to get the boxes unlocked. The seal hissed out and you grinned, ready to finally see what was inside.

Just as it lifted away so you could open the lid, a hand slammed down on the top, sealing it shut once more.

Gasping, you looked up into the hard, stormy eyes of Mayday. He was leaning over the box, keeping it closed while glaring down at you. He must have been waiting in the shadows when you first came in, not expecting to see anybody inside. Mayday must have known that you would try something like this, knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and have to have a look.

“Mayday… I can, I can explain!” you stuttered, mind going empty at the way he was looking at you sternly. The dark gaze was pinning you to the floor, and you couldn’t help but want to never move again at the way he had you in his cross hairs.

“You need a very good explanation for this, sweetheart” he growled, looking away from you only long enough to lift the box up and put it away. He made it look so effortless, like it weighed nothing.

“I do, I do! I promise, Mayday – I just” you stammered, trying to think of words that would help your case.

“Commander” Mayday automatically corrected, interrupting your thoughts.

“I just want to see what was in there. I thought it could help us, maybe fight against the raiders or make being here a bit more comfortable” you explained, biting your lip as he stared at you, still not convinced or impressed that he had caught you sneaking around and disobeying his orders.

“We have our orders, and we’ll follow them until the mission is completed. I know I told you to stay away from these supplies, but you disobeyed me. You disregarded everything I said to you” he said, voice as hard and as cold as the ice outside. He reached down to pull you up, his grip tight on your bicep as you straightened up in front of him.

“I know, I’m sorry Mayday” you murmured, ducking your head and feeling embarrassed at being caught.

“It’s Commander, and no you’re not” Mayday rebuked sharply, making you gasp and want to hide from his gaze. Sighing heavily, he shook his head and looked down at you. “I’m revoking your access to this room unless either me or one of the boys are with you. You’re going straight to your quarters and you won’t leave until I collect you tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he ordered, bringing your chin up with one finger underneath it so you looked into his eyes.

“Yes” you mumbled, heart feeling heavy at the way that your plan didn’t go quite as you hoped it would. And to top it all off, Mayday was furious with you. He was practically confining you to your quarters until he was ready to talk to you. It made you feel like a child again, sent to your room once you had been naughty.

“Yes, what?” he demanded, stepping closer to you.

“Yes Commander” you grumbled out, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. From his look, it didn’t really work but he let you go, directing you out of the cargo hold.

Mayday pressed against your back, you could feel the heat through your warm clothes. It was soothing as well as dis-concerting, reminding you that he was practically marching you to bed. A hand was sprawled across your back, guiding you along as he kept totally silent. It was making you feel worse about the situation. You hadn’t meant to upset Mayday at all, but now he was disappointed in you, a fate worse than death.

As you reached the door, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looking down at you with a stern expression. “Now stay in here until I pick you up tomorrow morning. We are having a serious discussion about what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in this compound. I’m very disappointed in you, civvie” he sighed.

Somehow that made you feel even worse but you knew you had crossed the line. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just threw you out and let you fend for yourself in the savage environment beyond the base. Or told the Empire that you were another one of the losses that had struck the base.

Reaching out for his hand, you gave a heavy sigh and squeezed it slightly. “I’m really sorry, Mayday” you apologised, wanting, no – needing him to believe you.

“I know, we’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest” Mayday grumbled, thumb stroking your hand before he pulled away. He watched you head into your quarters and the door shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own quarters, wondering what he was going to do with you?

The next morning, you woke up with a plan. A plan to solve everything between you and Mayday and hopefully lessen whatever punishment that was heading your way. You would run a few diagnostics on the equipment, then head to the mess and make him a caf, ready for him to start his day. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one himself and his morning could be a little quieter. So, as you crept out of your room, you decided that was what you were going to do.

There was a storm raging outside, the wind was howling outside and the depot was colder than the core of Hoth. It was the worst storm you had ever seen. Even the raiders weren’t going to brave the weather to come out and attack the depot. You were walking to the control room to start your plan when suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a room just off the hall.

Yelping, you kicked behind you, hearing a pained grunt from behind you and the hand on your arm let you go. Spinning around, you raised your fist, ready to attack whoever had grabbed you but you faltered when you met the annoyed look of the handsome Commander.

“Fancy seeing you here” he remarked, crossing his arms as he gave you a hard stare.

“I was just going to check on the systems and then I was going to bring you some caf. I promise, I wasn’t doing anything wrong” you explained, straightening your jacket as you met his eyes.

Mayday hummed, looking you over before seemingly deciding what was going to happen to you. “I wanted this conversation in the comfort of my office, but it seems I should be used to you messing up my plans. So we’ll do this here” Mayday drawled, leaning against the wall as he took you in.

“We can always go to your office” you suggested, taking a seat on the table. It would be a lot more comfortable than this conference room that was for sure.

“No, no” he denied, stepping closer to you.

Your heart began to race at the look he was shooting you, eyes never leaving yours as you felt trapped under his gaze. Swallowing slightly, you nodded, preparing yourself for this talk. You had never been locked in a room with Mayday like this, never with such a heavy presence between you. It was making it a little hard to think as he continued to stare at you. Biting back your nerves and the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach, you took the plunge and broke the silence.

“Look Mayday, I really am sorry for what happened last night. I guess I just wanted to know what this was all for” you started, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I hoped that there was something in those boxes that we could use for ourselves. I mean, depending on what they were, we could have just put them back. I just wanted to help us” you admitted, shaking your head. You had been so close, it was still possible that whatever was in those crates could help you for the extra 6 months you were forced to stay here.

He hummed, brow furrowed as he stepped closer, your knees practically touching his thighs. “But you went against my orders” he reminded, raising a dark, thick eyebrow at you. His hands landed on his hips, really giving him the look of a disappointed parent, ready to rebuke you.

“I know, and it was wrong, and I’ll never do it again” you assured, grimacing at the scoff that had Mayday rolling his eyes. “But don’t you wonder about what could be so important that they station you out here but haven’t returned for the supplies? What are they hiding?” you shook your head, thoughts beginning to whir at all the possibilities that could be in the crates.

“I wonder why you have such a problem with those in authority” Mayday retorted, cutting through your thoughts and making you stare at him.

“What? I don’t have a problem with authority!” you gasped, shaking your head in confusion. Had he hit his head against something? Was he suffering from hypothermia?

You had never had a problem with authority, normally getting on quite well with them. The only problem you had was that you were curious. And that sometimes got you into trouble. But you weren’t rebellious or anything like that, you just wanted to know the reason why? What? How? When? Since when had it been such a problem asking questions.

“Oh, I think you do cyare” he chuckled, stepping closer to you and spreading your legs wider to fit his frame.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, mouth suddenly gone awfully dry, eyes blinking up at him as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Mayday was so close, and his body had forced your legs wider than you had expected. Heat was flaring through you and you tried hard to focus on him and what he was saying.

“I think you’ve got a real problem” he murmured, voice dropping to a low husk. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your head up to look at him in the eye. “You have an inability to listen, to follow instructions. You’re rude and disrespectful to me-” he listed.

“Mayday!”

“Ah!” he clicked his tongue and shook his head at your interruption, fingers briefly tightening on your chin slightly before he let you go. “You refuse to call me by my rank. It’s Commander, my men seem more than capable of remembering that, but you seem to forget after every correction” he pointed out.

Oh, you didn’t think he would notice that. The very visceral reaction you got from calling him Commander left you feeling all hot and bothered. You couldn’t go around acting like that when you had a job to do, so Mayday was the only thing you could call him.

His hands ran up your thighs, stopping briefly at the small hitch of your breath. He waited for you to nod, to give him permission to carry on touching you.

With a shaky nod, you watched as his eyes darkened even further as his hands slid up higher to play with the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip as you felt his gloved fingers dip underneath the material.

“So cyare, I think you do have a problem with authority. Especially my authority” he breathed, dipping his head down so that his lips were hovering over yours.

Unable to help it, your lips twitched into a smirk as you pressed yourself against his armoured front. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?” you teased, your hand coming to slide it up the arm that he was caging you in with. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you thread your fingers through his long strands and gave him a playful smirk.

The way his rank fell from your lips sounded mocking, even when he was pressed against you. Oh, he would show you! It seemed you needed a little help to remember to be respectful to your superior officers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, flashing you a toothy smile that had you breathless. It made him look younger and so much happier than his usual stressed self. “Let me show you” he growled, hand gripping your jacket tightly before he pulled you away from the table, twisting you around and pushing you into the wall behind him.

Although the push wasn’t rough by any means, your breath left you as you stared at Mayday in a mix of arousal and surprise. The casual way he had moved you, the way he was pressing you against the wall, his thick, large body covering you and the eager look in his eyes had you breathless. You blinked up at him, a small smile beginning to form on your face.

However, Mayday wasted no time, finally pressing his lips to yours. He had wanted to do this for so long. Every time you had called him by his name, it had driven him slightly more mad. Every interaction with you kept him on his toes, he had taken to having his downtime with you. It would be a lie to say he had never imagined shutting you up like this, with his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your small noises after refusing to call him by his title.

With a flick of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you felt your face heat up more as you parted your lips for him. As you tasted the caf on his tongue, you pushed yourself against him, hands securing around his neck to make sure he didn’t move away from you.

When you pulled away, you felt like your heart was in your throat, even if there was an echoing thrum between your legs. “Mayday” you breathed, taking in his slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks.

He leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Commander” he corrected once more.

“What are we doing?” you gasped, as one of his armoured thighs slid in between your legs. It wasn’t pressing against you yet, but you could just imagine how his thigh armour would feel against you.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart” he assured, hands sliding to your waist to steady you against him.

He was leaving this down to you. You knew that if you decided then and there that you didn’t want to pursue this, then Mayday would take a step back and let things go back to normal. But you weren’t sure you wanted that. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not realise how handsome and pretty Mayday was. Throughout your time on base, he had become your closest friend. He always looked out for you, made you laugh when you were down, joined in on your teasing of his brothers. Whenever you had felt lost and alone, he had always been there to comfort you and cheer you up. Mayday may get on your nerves and you were sure you frustrated him, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted him, and it looked like he returned those feelings.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good with this” you nodded, tugging him down to you so you could kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, but you didn’t mind, especially when his hands tightened their grip on your hips.

Pulling away, he spread kisses from the corner of your lips, across your cheeks and your jaw before working his way down to your neck. “Good girl” he growled, voice unable to hide just how happy he was to have you here against him. Pressing kisses and nips along your throat, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Because you’re not leaving here until you remember to call me Commander” he warned, hands skimming down your sides.

Letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head to the side, letting him have more room to suck dark bruises and marks along your neck. That sounded wonderful. You didn’t expect to leave the conference room anytime soon then.

You ran your fingers through his long dark curls, twisting your hands into his hair as his lips ventured along the hollow of your neck before sinking lower, as he pushed your jacket to the side, exposing more of you to his attentive mouth.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, nose skimming up your throat before pulling away to tug on the zip of your jacket.

“Yes, you can Mayday. In fact, I want it gone” you chuckled, pulling down the zip yourself. The warmth pressed against you however, pulled away, leaving you cold and wanting.

Frowning, you looked up at Mayday, confused at why he had moved away from you.

“Yes, what?” he prompted you, sounding just like he had last night.

Gaping at him, you took a shaky breath in, feeling the way your core pulsed at the thought of what you were going to call him.

“Yes, Commander” you breathed, about to step forward to follow him but he quickly slotted your lips together once more, pinning you back against the wall.

He gasped, pulling away from your mouth just far enough that he could bite into his glove and tug it off. He threw it somewhere behind him, the other one following seconds later. Eyes meeting yours once more, he cupped your face and brought you into another kiss, swallowing all your moans and soft whimpers as he continued to plunder your mouth.

Strong, warm hands slid inside your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. As soon as the garment was off, Mayday curiously slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers exploring across your skin, digging in slightly at your sides as he tugged you closer to him.

“Please Commander” you moaned, tugging at his chest plate. You wanted it off. You wanted to see him and feel him, just like he was feeling you.

Nodding, he gave you a small kiss before stepping away. He cursed as he had to unwrap the fabric he had wrapped around himself to keep his armour in shape and to fight off the cold. “I knew I should have just worn my blacks” he grumbled, shaking his head as he placed his chest plate to the side.

“Yeah? Planned this did you, Commander?” you grinned, smirk plastered on your face as you watched the show.

Mayday rolled his eyes at you, already unbuckling his utility belt and letting it drop to the floor with a small clatter before he worked on his stomach plate. “You wish!” he retorted, before finally managing to get it off. Before you could answer him back, he returned to you, already reaching for your shirt.

Freezing, he looked between himself and you.

“Everything okay?” you asked softly, cupping his face as he seemed to realise that there was a problem.

“We’ll freeze to death if we start stripping. I’ll have to have you naked and spread out on my bed next time, sweetheart” he frowned, thumbs brushing against your stomach.

Giggling, you couldn’t help but agree. It was freezing in here, you’d probably end up with frostbite if too much of your clothes were removed. But what warmed you more than anything was talk of there being a next time. He wanted to be with you again.

Sliding your cooler hands up and under his shirt, you smirked at the quiet yelp that Mayday let out as your fingers brushed against his nipple. It instantly hardened under your touch and you tweaked it between your fingers.

Mayday scowled, pushing your shirt up until it reached your shoulders. Ducking his head, he pressed warm, wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. Grazing his teeth against the side of your breast, his hand began to roughly squeeze and feel your mound.

Panting slightly at the feel of his rough hold of you and the way he was marking your chest, you buried your hands into Mayday’s rugged locks and pulled. The reaction was instantaneous. The moan that tumbled from his lips vibrated through your chest and you grinned, glad to have found one of his likes as well. Tugging and pulling at his hair got him going.

“Don’t look so smug” he grumbled, working his way down your stomach with open mouthed kisses and the occasional brush of his teeth against your soft flesh.

“Can’t help it Commander, you look so good on your knees for me” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands sliding around to your arse and giving each cheek a rough squeeze.

He nipped at your hip in retaliation before licking a stripe along your hemline, chuckling at the way your muscles fluttered underneath his tongue at that move.

“Careful sweetheart, you’re still meant to be learning a lesson” he growled, fingers trailing down your inner thigh, around your knee to down your calf. He stopped at the boot that was in the way and gently lifted your leg, tugging off the boot and throwing it behind him where it landed on the table with a dull thud.

“Seems you’re not a very good teacher, Mayday” you grinned, before gasping at the quick slap on your thigh. Had he just spanked you?

Chuckling at the shocked expression on your face, he reached up to tug your leggings and underwear down. “Be a good girl for me, I’d hate for you to not get your reward” he ordered, pulling them down until they reached your knees.

“Don’t bluff!” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising in it’s wake. You shivered, trying to press closer to him to chase his warmth.

“Oh, who’s bluffing?” he scoffed, helping to lift your leg up so he could slide it out of one side of your leggings and underwear. His hand skimmed up and down your thigh, working heat into your skin to warn you up slightly. It was ridiculously cold at the moment. He regretted not taking you somewhere warmer.

He pressed a soothing kiss to your hip before guiding your leg over his shoulder, letting it rest on his pauldron. Sighing softly, he could smell your sweet arousal, and he couldn’t help but run his nose up and down your inner thigh. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was on his knees in front of you, ready to see if you tasted just as sweet as you smelt.

Glancing up at the apex of your thighs, he couldn’t help but groan, feeling himself twitch behind his codpiece. You were soaked, your folds glistening with your arousal. Some of it was spread along your inner thigh and he leaned forward to lick a stripe up your thigh, getting his first taste of you. Moaning, he leant his head against your hip, taking in how perfect you were.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful sweetheart, you taste perfect” he breathed, glancing up to see your flushed face staring back down at him.

“You don’t have to say that” you murmured, biting your lip. He looked amazing down there. His bearded face and long locks framed by your thighs, a hint of shine already on his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not. I’ll show you” he vowed, brushing his mouth along your other thigh.

You groaned, already knowing that you would have a few marks from his beard and just how it rubbed against your sensitive skin. Leaning further back against the wall, you took in a deep breath before it was forced out of you by Mayday’s eager press of his tongue between your folds. His soft bristles grazed against your inner thighs and you cursed, tugging and pulling at his hair.

Mayday repositioned his hands, gripping onto your arse to steady you against his face as he flicked his tongue around your entrance, drinking the sweet nectar from the source. As he drank you down, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, drawing moans and sighs from your lips that only made his cock twitch and press harder against his armour.

His lips closed round your clit, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. “Fuck, Mayday!” you cried out, tugging sharply on his hair.

However, as soon as the words escaped you, Mayday pulled away, smirking at your anguish cry as he ran his hand up and down the thigh thrown over his shoulder. “You know what you have to call me if you want me to continue” he reminded, nipping at your inner thigh.

“Fuck… okay, okay” you huffed, frustration building in you, and not just because of Mayday’s talented mouth and fingers but at his continuing denial of your release. “Please, Commander. Suck my clit!” you whined, trying to pull him back to where you needed him most.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart?” he teased, before diving back into the sweet nectar that was leaking out of your core.

“You’re… you’re… lucky you’re… so pretty” you panted, hips bucking up into his mouth, wanting to press even more against his teasing tongue and talented lips.

Mayday buried his face into your core, making you cry out and shake against him. “Thank you, sweetheart” he grinned, before collecting your slick on his fingers, covering them in it before he pressed one of his long fingers into your entrance.

“Commander!” you gasped, feeling the way your walls fluttered around the intrusion.

“Good girl” he praised you, rewarding you with withdrawing before thrusting back in.

The whimper that left you from that had you wanting to hide, but it only made Mayday flick his tongue faster over your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves while he continued to open you up for him.

Your heart was racing, your breaths coming out in small pants as Mayday worked on your clit as he pressed a second finger inside of you, curling them and pressing up and down inside of you. It pushed every thought out of your mind apart from his name, just the feel of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his warm agile tongue drawing your clit into his mouth.

“Co-Commander” you whimpered, bucking as much as you could into his mouth. The hand that wasn’t currently torturing you with his precise movements inside your core, pressed against your lower stomach, pinning you against the wall.

It had you crying out, the feel of his fingers suddenly bigger and just… more. Heat was pooling at the base of your spine, and you could feel pleasure with every thrust and withdrawal of his fingers inside of you.

Mayday added another finger, stretching you open and he couldn’t help but groan at the feel of your slick running down his wrist. He sucked harshly on your clit before pulling away to lap it up. He didn’t leave your clit alone for long though, returning back to rub circles into the nub with his tongue. However, Mayday curled his fingers, aiming for that patch of spongy tissue against the front of your walls. He knew he found it when you let out a loud cry, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“May-Mayday please!” you begged, nails scraping along his scalp and the back of his neck as he held you still.

He hated to do it, he really didn’t want to, but he froze. Not moving at all to aid in your pleasure.

“Nooo! Please! Please! Don’t stop” you cried, writhing underneath his hands.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, cyare. Just tell me what I want to hear” he shushed, laying soft kisses along your stomach, enjoying the way you sounded so close to your release.

“Please, please Commander” you groaned, tears pooling in your lashes as your eyes were shut closed. Your body felt alight under his touch, every stroke and suck had lightning shoot up your spine. It was like having fire under your skin that he was pushing you maddeningly closer towards. All you wanted was to cum around his fingers and on his mouth. But he was teasing you and keeping you on the edge until you remembered to call him by his title.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me” he smiled, before renewing the way he dragged you along his mouth, tongue slipping in between his fingers to get more of your sweet slick on his tongue. Growling softly, he made sure to press his fingers along that spot with every thrust, twisting and curling his fingers until you were crying out once more. There was no doubt his brothers could probably hear just exactly what he was doing with you in this room but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until you were shuddering underneath him.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Want your Commander to taste just how sweet you are? Want to flood his face with your juices?” he gritted out, feeling the way your muscles fluttered and clenched around his fingers at his words.

Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that so badly. You wanted to flood his face, drench his beard in your juices until it was all he could think about later. You wanted it all so badly.

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you desperately forced your eyes opened and looked down, needing to see Mayday in between your legs as he ate you out. He must have felt your eyes on him because his eyes dragged up your body to meet your own, and with a particularly rough twist of his fingers against that spot and a graze of his teeth, he had you falling over the edge with little warning as you clutched onto him as tightly as you could.

“COMMANDER!” fell from your lips as you felt your legs shake as your orgasm washed through you. Every muscle in your body felt loose, you felt boneless as he continued to tease and lap at your opening, desperate to get every last drop of your release. It was pushing you quickly into the realm of oversensitivity and you whimpered, tugging him away with the hand in his hair.

Mayday relented, leaning back on his knees and sending you a soft smile.

He looked filthy, there was a bright hue on the apple of his cheeks, his eyes were slightly dazed at the taste of you, but his beard was covered in your slick. He looked so pleased with himself, and he ran soothing hands up and down your thighs as you stared at each other, breathless.

“You okay?” he asked, pressing against the mark he had left on your inner thigh with his teeth.

“Yeah… yeah… I don’t think I can stand” you mumbled, brushing away strands of your hair away from your forehead and temples.

Grinning, Mayday pushed himself up onto his feet and wrapped you into his arms. He could feel your trembling form against his, and he hoped it was from your release, rather than the cold. “Well, I guess as I’m to blame for that, I’d best keep you up” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips.

You licked your lips, tasting the slight hint of your release. Resting your head against his, you shared the same breath, content to just press against each other for now. However you noticed the way his codpiece was pressed against your hip, grinding slightly against you in a way that suggested Mayday didn’t even notice he was doing it, seeking some relief from what you could imagine was his hard cock.

Humming softly, you slid your hands between you, grinding the heel of your hand against the cold plastoid. Mayday muffled a groan into your neck, as heat flared through him. He had treated you so well, you wanted to do the same to him.

As you went to sink to your knees for him, Mayday stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you take me into your mouth, this is going to be over sooner than either of us would like. And I really, really want to be inside of you” Mayday interrupted, heavily lidded dark eyes meeting your own surprised one.

“Next time?” you breathed, leaning up to lay kisses along his cheek before stopping at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We’ve got time” he assured, twisting his head to capture your lips with his.

Sighing against him, you unclipped his codpiece, letting it fall to the floor between you with a small clatter. The groan of relief that Mayday let out had you giggling. You were sure that the armour had begun to get very restrictive.

“God, they were definitely not made to contain clones’ cocks” Mayday winced, spreading his legs a little wider now that he had more space to move.

Grinning, you passed your hand over his lengths that were still hidden behind his blacks. His cock did feel like it was made out of durasteel, a wet patch formed as he was leaking from his head. Biting your lip, you looked between you, wanting to see just how beautiful he was.

As you pushed the blacks down his hips, his cock popped out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. The Commander was just slightly bigger than average but he was thick, his length disappearing into a bush of dark curls at the base of his cock. God, you couldn’t wait to feel that pressing inside of you, stretching you open.

“Fuck!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the angry, red head of his cock. It was leaking pre-cum, slicking his length up and pooling at the base.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he flirted.

Although you could see the cocky smirk on his face, you heard the underlining tension underneath it. “You’re beautiful, Mayday” you assured, cupping his cheek and stroking beneath the dark circles of his eyes.

Mayday didn’t seem to know what to do with your words, so he nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss there and sighing softly.

“Ready? Wrap your arms around me and jump, I promise I’ll catch you” he instructed, hands sliding down your sides to cup the back of your thighs.

“I trust you” you assured, doing what he said.

“Good girl, so you can follow instructions” he drawled, “jump!”

As you used the grip on his shoulders to propel you up, he lifted you up to his waist, wrapping your legs around him and securing you against the wall. The move had you letting out a small squeak at just how strong your Commander was, but his grip on you was tight, not letting you go anywhere.

“You’re strong” you gasped, squeezing your arms around him once more.

“I won’t let you fall, cyare” he promised, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “Ready?” he asked quietly, reaching in between you and notching his cock at your entrance.

“I’m ready, Commander” you nodded, slightly breathless at the thought that you were going to do this. You and Mayday were going to fuck for the first time after so long of you both wanting each other. After all the times you enjoyed each other’s company and clashed with each other, it all came down to this moment.

Mayday pressed into you in one slow but cautious thrust, eyes trained on your face to read your every reaction, not wanting to hurt you. When he was bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, hand coming down to secure you against his waist. He waited for you to get used to his size, knowing it might not be what you were used to.

Whining, you gritted your teeth at the stretch, the thickness of his length pushing against your pulsating walls. It felt so right for him to be inside of you, the way you fitted around each other just proved how this was the best thing you were ever going to do.

Mayday pressed kisses along your jaw, fingers trailing to your clit to softly rub patterns along it, distracting you while you got used to him.

The touch against your clit had you jolting, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, letting out a small gasp. “I’m ready, you can move now Commander” you assured him, dragging your nose along his and nuzzling into him.

Mayday held you up as he pulled his hips back, before pushing back in with a gentle and slow thrust. He buried his head into your neck, breath shaky at the feel of your hot, wet channel fluttering around his length. It took everything in him to not cum right then and there, but he had more self control than that, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself and cum once more before he found his own release.

As he began to pick up a rhythm, the sharp, short jabs into you had your breath hitching with every thrust. You clung onto him, tightening your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. The feel of his beard brushed against your neck, and you knew there would be an interesting mark there come tomorrow, just from his beard. It seemed that Mayday was marking you up, even if he meant it or not.

“May-” you panted, arching your chest into his as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Don’t make me stop!” he grunted out, hips faltering just at the thought.

“Please don’t! Fuck, I’m sorry Commander” you gasped, clenching around him at the thought of him stopping.

Mayday let out a wounded sound, hips thrusting deeper into you as he felt you tighten around him, like you didn’t want to let go of him. He hefted you higher up the wall, able to sink into your delicious heat with long deep thrusts. He bounced you on his cock, lifting and sinking you down with every roll of his hips up into you.

Whimpering at the feel of his cock spearing into you, you dragged your nails down his back, trying to rock into him as much as you could. But in this position, there was very little you could do but to hang on and let Mayday take control of the rhythm.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Want to see you, ugh! Touch yourself” he hissed, hips bucking into yours sharply as he felt his control start to slip. He wanted to see you fall over the edge first, to feel you clenching and tightening around his cock first.

“Commander” you managed to get out, although you weren’t sure if it was beginning to slur as he thrust up into you, dragging the head of his cock against that spot inside of you that made everything white out.

But you did as you were told, fingers slipping between you two to focus on your swollen bundle of nerves. Just the touch of your fingertips against your clit had you crying out, oversensitive from his mouth and the earlier orgasm. You felt more slick leak from you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the wave of pleasure that was beginning to build up inside of you.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” you cried, clinging onto his shoulders as the other hand played with your clit.

Mayday let out a growl, teeth grazing your shoulder as he began to quicken his thrusts, slamming into you as he felt his own release building.

“Please, please Commander. Let me cum” you begged, edging closer and closer to your release.

Mayday snarled, unable to believe you were asking for his permission to cum. He had never told you that you had to do that, but it sent such heat through him at the thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten and move up.

“Yes, yes sweetheart, cum for your Commander” he groaned through gritted teeth as his hips began to loose their rhythm.

With one more sweep of your fingers against your engorged clit, and the feel of Mayday driving into you with powerful thrusts, you were thrown off the edge. Your release shuddered through you, and you didn’t know if you shouted out his name or not, but Mayday continued to work you through your orgasm, prolonging it as he chased his own pleasure.

Feeling a spike of pain as you scratch at his back, Mayday let out a loud snarl at the way you called out Commander as you came. It was just what he needed as he fell over the edge, ecstasy washing through him as he unloaded his cum into your quivering channel. With a few remaining thrusts, he fell still, feeling you shuddering around him, although he wasn’t sure if it was you or him that was shaking after your powerful releases.

Slowly, Mayday sunk to the floor, keeping you wrapped around him but making sure you were buried into his chest. The pair of you caught your breaths, panting against each other as you relaxed. It was silent between you, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was perfect, just like those moments when you were in the control room together, minding the cameras. Or when you were in the mess hall, enjoying a cup of caf together in the morning. It felt right.

“So Commander” you drawled, when you had regained enough energy to speak, and you looked up at him with a tired but pleased smile. He returned it, running a hand up and down your back as he kept you close to him. “Do I still have to call you Commander whenever we speak?” you teased, trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Hmm, perhaps not. Not when I’ll remember this every time you do. Might get a bit awkward for the boys” he joked, joining you as you laughed at his words.

“You’re probably right. How about we get dressed and get some caf? I’m starting to freeze here, next time we’re definitely doing this in my bedroom” you insisted, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“Yes ma’am!” he agreed, pulling away and holding you for a bit longer.

#commander mayday #commander mayday x reader #mayday tbb #star wars #the bad batch #star wars x reader #star wars tbb #tbb #star wars the bad batch #star wars tcw #the clone wars #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clones #clone troopers #kinktober 2024

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heavenlyraindrops · 2 months ago

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The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Twenty One

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: profanity, blood and injury, injury detail, character death, guns, violence, fire, explosions, biting (in a non-freaky way), child death, stabbing, vomiting, references to past suicidal ideation

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Twenty One:

You woke in the middle of the to the sound of people screaming your name.

The minute Donna burst into the Haven through the black door, a group of bruised, soot-covered employees behind her, you knew something was wrong. You flitted your panicked, still half-asleep gaze over your people- black eyes, cuts, bruises. Their clothes were charred, and they were covered in black dust. You peered over Donna’s shoulder. Multiple people were being carried, their bodies practically grilled.

You almost vomited at the sight.

You grabbed Donna’s shoulders. She was shaking. “What the fuck happened?”

“I foun- I found them,” she gasped. A woman stepped forward, a burn on her shoulder. Her face was tearstained.

“They threw a bomb down there,” she panted. “They’re bombing the whole ground floor.”

You froze in shock. Donna let out a wail and pushed past you, the ragged group of people pouring into the Haven and pounding up the stairs, in search of backup and medics.

An uneasy feeling was gnawing at your gut. You charged back into your office and seized your jacket, shrugging it on as you went back to the back door. But then you froze, hand hovering over the doorknob.

Maybe it was a good idea to check on Allison before you left.

You lurched up the stairs, gripping the banister, and went to the black-haired girl’s room where Allison was initially supposed to bunk- where you’d sent her. You knocked on the door tentatively, heart in your mouth. No answer. You knocked again, harder this time, until you were banging on the door, the walls rattling. Kids and adults alike poked their heads out of their rooms to watch the spectacle.

A sickened-looking Donna stepped forward, handing you something. A key. “The master key,” she told you tiredly. You grappled with the lock, the door eventually swinging open. You burst inside the room.

It was empty.

You spun around, head reeling. No, no, no, no. Everything was going too fast. You’d woken up about ten minutes ago. It was too much. You clawed at your neck, fighting for breath. Donna grabbed you, and pointed at something.

“[name], look,” she gasped breathlessly. Your eyes followed her gaze.

The window.

Wide open.

You let out a piercing scream.

Donna winced, and you doubled over, clutching your head. Your lungs fought for oxygen as everything in your vision swam. You were about to be sick.

“Where is she?” You cried. A group of concerned people were standing in the doorway, exchanging concerned looks. You turned on them, sweat sticking your hair to your skin. “Where?”

A teenage girl stepped forward. Her mascara was smudged and her hair was mussed. “Before we went to sleep,” she began. “She kept talking about how she was gonna go visit the factory.”

Your body was trembling violently, uncontrollably. You stared at the ground. Donna stepped towards you, reaching for you gingerly, but you wrenched away from her. Your head snapped up, eyes blazing.

“Where’s Elliot?”

Within half an hour, your suspicions were confirmed. Neither Elliot nor Allison were to be seen anywhere in the Haven. You were at the front door, a dagger up your sleeve and a gun at your hip, and Donna was trying to desperately convince you to not leave.

“I’m going,” you said with finality, forcing the words past your throat. You felt so nauseous you couldn’t talk. Donna raised her bloodshot eyes to meet yours.

“Please, be sa-“

You were already out the door.

Charging down the street, you finally reached the usually quiet corner of the undercity, where the factory would sit in derelict solitude.

But now, everything was ablaze.

You whirled around. Tongues of flame surrounded you, leaping high into the night sky, smoke pouring from the front door of the factory which was wide open. You coughed into your fist, eyes watering.

And from inside, you heard a little girl’s screams.

“ALLISON!” You screamed. Another loud boom shook the giant building, more smoke and fire billowing around you. You looked to the sky and saw a man on the roof, looking down at you. Without a second thought you raised your gun.

The bang of the shot was as loud as the bombs. You watched as the silhouette of the man jerked, head knocking back, then toppled off the side of the roof to land in the dust of the factory yard, just in front of the metal mesh fence. Racing to the front gate of the factory, you ran inside. The smoke was thick, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling your nostrils. You mindlessly whirled around, and got sick all over the floor.

Your throat, nose and eyes burned. Your skin burned. You looked up, tears streaking your face. There was no way you would find Alice in here.

You heard shouting again.

“Madam! Help!”

Your heart lurched at Allison’s voice. It was coming from outside. You ran outside, skidding to a halt, before turning a corner to find yourself in the factory yard. “I’m coming!” You tried to yell, but it came out as a rasp. Coughing helplessly, you looked around the flaming, flat land. Your vision was swimming with tears. Smoke poured from the dry patches of dirt which had lit on fire, rising into the sky.

“Mom!”

You almost shut down.

Mom?

This was getting too familiar.

You spun around, barely seeing as you staggered a little. “Allison!” You called. “Allison, baby, I’m here. Where are you?”

“I’m here!”

You spun around to see a small figure lying in a heap on the ground, just in front of a heap of metal machinery. You charged through the smoke, until you skidded to a halt. The gun you were clutching so tightly dug into your palm.

There was a giant wall of fire blocking you from her. She was still a good bit away- you could just barely make out her face- or maybe you could’ve, if your eyes weren’t on fire and smoke wasn’t obscuring your vision until all you saw was black and grey.

“I can’t feel my legs!” Her small voice was raspy and raw, pathetic whimpers escaping her lips. You coughed even harder, hacking as ash settled in your throat. You doubled over and looked up. The heat of fire caressed your face.

Through the thick haze of smog, something flashed red, close to Allison’s little silhouette, her numb, limp legs. It beeped, speeding up.

Your eyes widened.

“ALLISON-“

The explosion was deafening.

You groaned, rolling over and opening your eyes. Everything was blurry. Your ears were ringing. You couldn’t hear a thing. You vaguely registered your gun lying a few feet on the ground away from you.

Sitting up, you raised your pounding head slowly. The fire had subsided, burning around you instead of in front, like it had been pushed away. Your shaking eyes landed on a limp, black figure, lying on the ground away from you.

Allison. You scrambled to your aching feet, bile rising in your throat. No.

Collapsing next to Allison, you turned her over. Her eyes were wide open, glazed over. Your stomach lurched. “No, no, no.”

Her hair was burnt to a crisp, flesh completely charred. Blood pooled from the back of her head, soaking into the dirt. Her skin was blackened with ash and soot.

Your face contorted with agony.

The scream that tore past your throat was cracked and broken. You slumped, pressing your forehead to hers, ignoring the blood. Her corpse was still feverishly hot, matching the tears streaming down your face and dripping down your chin. You couldn’t bear to look at her eyes. Her wide, cold, dead eyes.

“You can’t leave me,” you whimpered. “You can’t leave too.” You broke down again, smoothing your hand over her dry hair as loud sobs racked your shoulders.

A hand fell onto your shoulder. You gasped, jerking violently. You spun around, swinging wildly at whoever had touched you.

You didn't get far, falling back to your knees. You stared at the shoes that stepped in front of your hands, which were shaking, braced on the ground for support as you hunched over. You were about to be sick again.

You looked up through your hair, straight into a pair of mismatched eyes.

You lurched backwards. “Silco.” Your voice was trembling. He was panting, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There were fresh burns on his arms, you noticed. A few strands of otherwise carefully slicked back hair had fallen in front of his forehead.

“You,” you whispered, eyes flicking wildly to Allison’s body. “You did this.”

“[name],” he started, but didn’t finish his sentence, instead staring at you and breathing hard. His silence was deafening.

“What. What are you doing here?” You licked your cracked lips. Your voice was broken and raw.

“I wasn’t informed of this…” he looked around coldly. “Massacre.” His eyes settled back onto you, volcanic embers burning a hole into your face.

“Are you sure about that?” You rasped huskily. Your heart was beating hard enough for you to feel it in your fingertips.

Silco raised an eyebrow, stepping back.

You lunged for the gun.

He kicked you aside, and it knocked the breath out of you and the gun out of your clutches. You rolled over, groaning. Your ribs throbbed. Without thinking, you kicked out wildly with your leg, adrenaline rushing through you. He collapsed and you drove your knee into his face. His head back snapped back, blood dripping from his nose. Shaking like a wild animal, you clawed your way back, towards the gun.

Blood was pounding in your eyes, vision tunneling. Fury coursed searing hot through your veins, hotter than the fire. Your hand reached for the gun handle.

Silco’s hand suddenly closed over your wrist, pinning it to the ground. You could feel his chest press against your back as he leaned down, hot breath hissing in your ear.

“I knew the lock was you.”

You bit his forearm.

He growled, yanking his arm back, bringing the gun along with it. He tossed it away, into the flames. Twisting around, your fist connected with his jaw. He lurched to the side, but not before he dug his hand into you, hauling himself over you again, his own punch knocking your head back into the ground. Blood dripped down your lips. He shoved his face into yours, eyes blazing with fury. You were breathing hard, tears still tracking down your face.

“You really do think you can just get away with anything, don’t you?” He snarled, slamming his palm down onto the ground next to your head. “Testing my patience? Toying with me?” You inhaled shakily, feeling for the dagger inside your sleeve. It slowly slid down past your cuff. You felt cool sharp metal against your palm. His nose grazed yours, breath hot on your lips.

“You killed her,” you rasped. He froze.

“What?”

“You see that body lying over there?” Your voice was cracked and barely audible. “My second daughter. Dead.”

Something twisted across his face as he raised his eyes to the limp form behind you both. Guilt? Disgust? Nausea? The only other indicator of his reaction was his chest heaving up and down faster, breathing picking up. The handle of your dagger slid into your hands.

Silco noticed, and snatched it from your hands. You let out a yell of protest as it clattered to the ground some feet away. You slammed your hands against his chest, pushing him away and winding him.

“She was just a child, Silco!” You were screaming. You didn’t know who you were talking about- whether it was Alice, or Allison, or both. Your voice was dripping with grief and venom. “My child. And now she’s gone because of this…” you trembled. “This war you’re so desperate to start.”

He was still staring at Allison’s charred corpse, breathing hard, an unreadable look on his face. His eyes were wide. He looked back at you, and his face hardened. “You think I wanted this?” He snarled. “You think I’d sacrifice innocent lives for no reason? I didn’t even know this was happening. Don't put this on me.”

You lunged at him, gripping his collar. You shoved your face right into his. “It’s already on you,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. “Every death, every scream, every goddamn spark in this hellhole- it’s all on you. You made Shimmer, you terrorized the people, you lit the match.” Your breathing was hard and shaky as he slowly raised his hands to your wrists, prising your grip off of him. His face still hadn’t changed.

“You’re thinking just like him, aren’t you?” He muttered. You looked at him, eyes glassy and bloodshot.

“What?” You croaked.

“You sound just like Vander.” He practically spat his words, rising to his feet. You followed suit, subtly snatching up your discarded dagger and concealing it back within your sleeve.

“I lit the match because no one else would, [name],” he continued sharply. “You think peace comes with just sticking your head in the mud, sitting around, waiting for something to happen? You think that’s how we’ll win freedom?” He laughed, the noise harsh and dry. “You’re all delusional.”

What is he talking abou-

As if on autopilot, the words poured out of you. You jabbed a trembling finger at Allison’s corpse. “You think that little girl chose to be a part of your revolution?” You gasped. “You think she asked to die in your crusade?”

“And you think I chose to let Zaun rot?” He shot back, scowling, gritting his teeth and refusing to break eye contact. “To let Piltover crush us under their boot while people like you sit back and do nothing?”

You stepped back, voice bitter. “Don’t you dare,” you breathed. “Don’t you dare act like you care more than I do. You’re just better at justifying the cost.”

Silco straightened up, squaring his shoulders. He’d calmed down, voice quieter now, but still just as dangerous as before. The crackling flames illuminated his silhouette against the dark night sky.

“The cost is unbearable, I know that,” he said steadily. “But if we don’t fight, if we don’t do what’s necessary- all of their deaths will be for nothing.” His eyes met yours with the same conviction you’d seen in him many times before. “Do you want her to have died for nothing?”

“She died because you couldn’t see past your own damn pride,” you muttered, turning away. You stared at the ground, tears making your vision blur together. You couldn’t bear to see Allison’s corpse. “You’d burn all of Zaun down and call it liberation.”

His voice was as cold and hard as ever from behind you. Your eyes settled on Allison’s dead, glassy ones, and you twitched, wincing. “Sometimes, fire is the only way to cleanse what’s broken.” You couldn’t tear your eyes from the charred flesh.

Something inside you snapped. You whirled around, voice venomous as you spat your words,

“Then I’ll make damn sure you’re the first to burn.”

He barely had time to react before you lunged at him, driving the dagger deep into his side. You both collapsed on the ground, rolling across the rough dirt.

Regret immediately stabbed into your gut.

You gasped, drawing the knife out of his flesh, watching the blood seep through his clothes. The bloodied blade clattered to the ground as you pressed your hands to your mouth, eyes wide and shaking.

“No. No. No.” You chanted the words like a mantra, hands roaming over his injury, desperate to staunch the bleeding. Your vision shook, flashing. For a moment he was young again, an empty eye socket looking at you unseeingly. You jerked back, gripping your head. “Sil, I’m sorry.”

He coughed up blood, cursing under his breath. “You’re crazy,” he rasped, and you sobbed over his bleeding body.

“I shouldn’t have,” you choked. His face was rapidly growing pale. He weakly grabbed your wrist, pulling it down towards the ground so he could see your face. You were an absolute mess.

“The Last Drop,” he groaned, and you immediately hauled him up, balancing him on your shaking shoulders.

The limp to the Last Drop was a long, silent one, the silence broken every now and then with your guilty sobs and incessant, crazed rambling. Silco was too busy bleeding out all over you to speak, occasionally coughing up a bout of blood.

The windows of the Last Drop were dark. It was closed. You figured as much- it was about three in the morning. You slammed yourself against the door. It fell open and you stumbled.

By the time you’d dragged him to his office he’d lost a lot of blood. You yourself were soaked in it. Panic had seized you, making you jerk, twitch and tremble. Hot tears were still flowing down your face. You let Silco slump in his chair, your blood-soaked palms steadying his shoulders. He raised his half-lidded, dazed gaze to meet yours, head lolling to the side.

You slumped onto the floor beneath him, sniffling. “Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

He let out a small grunt of agreement. You began to shake.

“I should have kept my promise. I said if anything happened to you or Alice, I’d kill my self.” You gripped your head, fingers tangling in your ragged hair. “I shouldn’t be here right now. If I just kept my fucking promises, maybe you… maybe Allison…” your throat choked up and you couldn’t complete your sentence. Your face began to dry, no more tears left in you as you raised your head to him. He was watching you silently.

“When I first found out Alice was dead and you were missing,” you whispered, “I swear I almost held out on my promise.” You wiped your eyes, licking your cracked, dry lips.

“I was going to drown myself in the river,” you confessed, then looked up at him. He hummed, reaching out with a weak hand to put his hand on your head. Your face twisted with painful emotions as you leaned forward, putting your head on his lap. “Every day after that I’d go and try to work up the courage to do it.” Your voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed something incoherent, and you looked up at him. You just barely heard him the second time.

“No. You should have lived.”

But the words barely registered in your mind as you collapsed onto the floor at the foot of his desk, exhausted.

The adrenaline had finally worn off, but you’d fallen asleep before the true reality of the night’s events had set in.

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deepperplexity · 2 years ago

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Don't Be Shy

Title: Don't Be Shy

Pairing: Young!Snape x Young!Fem!Reader (ALL CHARACTERS OF AGE!)

POV: Third, Snape

Setting: Severus’s dorms, End of Seventh Year.

Theme: Drunken shenanigans with smutty goodness and praise 🖤

Inspired by: THIS fanart of Young!Snape by @simper-maximus who gave me permission to write a fanfic for it 🥰

A/N: So, hello there, it’s been a hot minute - hasn’t it? 👀🙈

As some of you know my life is CRAZY atm, not only with work but we’re moving and all that goodness as well so I’ve been inactive for a while here even if I’ve done my best to log on and try to add to our lovely community.

However, I saw this fanart of our young Snape yesterday (do check the post linked above and give it some love) and just felt inspired. So here’s a little smutty goodness of our beloved Snape at an age I rarely write - you know me loves, I want our dungeon bat on the more mature side but this young Snape just made my fingers itch. I hope you’ll enjoy it 😘

ABBR.: Y/N - Your Name

Warnings: Ejaculation, Climaxing, Masturbation, Alcohol Consumption, Provocative Language/Actions, Slight Fluff, Slight Aftercare, Praise, Shame, Praise Kink, Inexperienced!Snape, Experienced!Reader, Confident!Reader, Kissing, Oral Sex, Stripping.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // Linktree

The sound of Moon Rage filled the room, the band’s hypnotic tunes with its edgy female singer easily overpowered any other sound. Or, perhaps, he was simply drunk and couldn’t filter out the loud sound of the record player.

Why he’d accepted your request to meet up, why he’d allowed you to smuggle alcohol into his room, why he’d agreed to you locking the door while whispering about the others being at the unauthorized graduation party by the abandoned greenhouse and not returning for hours to come — well, he couldn’t answer any of the sluggish thoughts that sneaked through his usually overcrowded brain for a few seconds.

It was quite desolate at the moment though. Only one thought echoed through the haze of alcohol after the questions fizzled out, you. The way you danced between his bed and wardrobe at the furthest left side of the room. Your hips swayed, and your hands skimmed atop your clothes. Your skirt hitched up, your slightly too-small shirt revealing every single curve of your upper body and the dangling of your tie across your chest was as hypnotic as the music.

He couldn’t believe you were there. Singing about being touched, humming about feeling like you could breathe under the sensual caress described in the song. You were magnificent in the dim candlelight. And he was hard. His cheeks flushed. His hand squeezed the fabric of his robe spread out on the couch from where he had an uninterrupted view of you.

You spun around — a new song filling the room with an even more sensual beat — and he blushed deeper as you smiled at him. You seemed less affected by the alcohol, or you were a more experienced drinker. The entire situation was new to him. Everything about it was so wholly new on every level and he barely knew what to do with himself.

You swayed your hips as you moved closer, he tensed and you smirked. Your eyes were alight with something he could only describe as mirth. Mirth and warmth. He was warm all over too, his cock strained against his trousers and jerked as your eyes darted down to it. Embarrassment filled him as you watched his tented pants with the highly visual outline of his erection intently.

“Like what you see, Sev?” you asked with a purr to your voice he’d never heard you speak with before as you dragged your hands up along your thighs, hitching the hem of the skirt up along with the motion — baring your black knickers. You moved differently, showed a new side to you he hadn’t ever even imagined you had. You were so sweet, so pure, so gentle normally. How could he not have noticed this side of you that made his heart hammer and pound so harshly yet your control was also comforting — it baffled him but his body was alight and too strung up for him to think further on it.

His fingers squeezed the fabric within his hand harder, his heart drummed as he watched your fingers trail up along your sides while tugging up the shirt before you unbuttoned it. The black bra matching your knickers came into view as you dragged it off and threw it on his bed while his breath caught in his throat — nerves coiled within him but the alcohol wouldn’t allow him to panic.

Severus gulped while it felt as if his cheeks were on fire, his cock nearly ready to explode. No, don’t-, hold it, don’t— “Sev?” you asked, interrupting his frantic thoughts. “Don’t you like me? Don’t you like what you see?” you continued with a shy smile but your tone, it wasn’t uncertain or worried about his answer. You sounded confident, sounded perfectly aware of what he was thinking.

“I-, I do,” he confessed — his voice slightly pitched despite it having become much darker over the last two years — as you moved your hips in a figure-eight. The way your stomach moved along with that motion, how your breasts bounced ever so slightly, and how you smiled almost wickedly at him had him in a twist of want-corded tension and he had never experienced sensations as strong as he now did.

“Won’t you show me, Severus?” you asked as you undid the button and zipper of your skirt, shimmying out of it. He gulped and panted while his cock jerked and his balls drew up, his body begging for release.

He’d dreamt of your body. He’d jerked off in the shower with the fantasies of your touch and moans. You had overtaken every whim of his hormone-riddled body, for over a year. A year of torture watching you from afar, knowing he’d never have a chance with someone like you. Someone so perfect.

“Y/n, please…” he exhaled while his body began to tremble with the restraint of not coming. But you merely tilted your head while keeping up your seductive dancing. “Be good for me, Sev…” you said just loud enough to be heard over the music as you moved yet another step toward him. The gloomy dungeon-like room with its green and silvery shades felt too hot.

Your bare skin glistened with a slight perspiration, little beads of salty water glittering in the low light that his mind screamed of wanting to lick up. His cheeks turned hotter still, his hand moving up to his mouth to contain his tongue and the involuntary moan slipping out.

Your eyes moved down to his trousers again, your gaze focused wholly on the pulsing erection he couldn’t do anything about while he watched you with a mixture of shame, need, and pure horniness while he squeezed the robe tighter in his hand, pressing his hand to his mouth harder as he moaned again when you stroked your breasts through your bra. Don’t come, don’t come… By Merlin, she’s so beautiful…

“Don’t be shy, Sev…” you hummed as you unclasped your bra. “Be a mess for me, like I am for you…” you continued as your breasts were exposed and he gasped while you toyed with your pebbled nipples. He groaned and sank into the sofa further, straining in every manner possible. You threw your head back with a moan and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

The sweet moan you let out made him sag as his trousers were stained with his cum, bleeding through the fabric while he closed his eyes as little tears lined the edges of them. He was so embarrassed, so relieved, so turned on he didn’t know what to do with himself as his cock kept pulsing, squirting wave after wave of cum sticking to his cock, underwear, and trousers. How embarrassing… How do I ever look you— “You’re so beautiful like this, Sev. All messy and bothered, all flustered and so cute…” you said, again interrupting his thoughts while the last tremor left his body and his cock softened in the mess he’d made — that you’d made of him.

He jerked as your hands landed on his knees, making him open his eyes only to find you between his legs with the most beautiful look of satisfaction, with want and pride in your eyes as you looked up at him. The shame he’d felt a second ago vanished as your hands stroked up along the inside of his thighs with nothing but glazed hunger in those inviting eyes he’d often daydreamed of.

“You did so good, Sev. I’m so proud of you for holding out so long. Such a good boy,” you said with praise and reassurance in your voice that did things to him he couldn’t explain or understand. “I-, I’m a mess,” he said, feeling his heart race as your fingers began undoing the button of his trousers with a smirk as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “Just how I want you,” you whispered with that tone of praise again. “A mess for me, with that sweet look of surrender… Makes all my fantasies of you pale in comparison.”

He felt elated, assured, and wanted when you spoke to him like that. It was wholly new to him, new territory and unknown terrain. It felt good. He felt so good under your hands, viewing, words, and voice. He felt good, and hearing you fantasised about him as he did about you eased a little knot in his stomach.

But then your hands were pulling down his soiled trousers, tugging down the waistband of his underwear until his spent cock became visible and he had to look away from you. Embarrassed by the mess, triggered by the salty smell of his own cum as it wafted up. “Let me clean you up, sweetie,” you said and he jolted. Before he had time to ask what you had meant, your hand grabbed his cock gently and your lips encased the slack member a second later.

The heat of your mouth, the look of your head moving between his legs made his eyes widen and his body erupted in a shocked burning. His heart instantly thundered, his pulse roared in his ears as he watched you lick up his cum, sucking and licking his cock with tender care.

He jerked as your tongue swiped the crown. “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” you praised as he began to harden anew. “Y/n,” he panted as you encircled him again, “p-please,” he protested with need and confusion. He’d never been able to get hard right away after coming before. “Hush, sweetie, let me taste you,” you said softly before he felt the hand you’d had on his thigh disappear.

You moaned around him and he jerked within your mouth, throwing his head back as he stiffened. You began stroking at his root while your tongue teased and swirled around the tip. He tensed as pleasure soared through him in an entirely new way, his last climax still loomed over him.

He looked down at you, feeling hot beyond belief as he watched you suck his cock while pleasuring yourself — all while being between his legs, on your knees yet in control of everything. I’m dreaming, I’m drunk and dreaming, he tried to convince himself but the sensations were too real, too palpable, too perfect for his head to be able to conjure such a dream.

You panted around him, moaning and humming while he watched you work yourself up further. The entire room began spinning around him while his hands squeezed the robe beneath him, the music and sounds of you invading him, the feel of your touch overwhelmingly perfect, the smell of your arousal and his cum mixing and mingling in the air.

His hips jerked as you suckled him. He watched you hollow your cheeks and never before had pleasure erupted so violently within him. He moaned, feeling self-conscious about the way his body was jerking and tensing, how he was burning up and desperate for a second release but terrified he wouldn’t be able to despite how good you made him feel.

You moaned around him, your rhythm faltering while your hand tightened around his root. Your movements turned erratic — hasty and needy. His own breath hissed out between his teeth as he felt his balls draw up. “Come for me,” you moaned around his cock. “Be good for me,” you exhaled before sucking harder. “Please-, please I can’t—” His words were interrupted as you moaned and shook between his legs, climaxing hard while still sucking his cock with vigour.

The sight was beyond his understanding, beyond his brain’s capability to comprehend in its beauty and he came. Hard. Moaning loudly while spurting a single string of cum into your mouth while his lungs nearly froze up at the warmth exploding within him. “So good,” you said while removing your mouth but still gently stroking his cock through the pulsing. “You’re so good, Sev. Such a pretty sight, such a sweetie coming for me twice.”

The praise hit something within him he couldn’t touch, your words made him feel so good he could barely stand the sensation — so at odds with anything and everything he had ever felt. He wanted you to say such words to him again. He wanted to be good for you, make you praise him, make you look at him like you did in that exact moment. Sated and happy. You were so beautiful to him, so perfect, and he wanted to be touched by you over, and over, and over again.

“You’re mine now,” you said with a sweet smile, showing that side of you he’d fallen in love with while watching you from afar. “Y-yours?” he asked as a fresh blush crept over his skin, heating his chest and cheeks. You giggled and reached up to stroke his cheek. “Yes, mine. I want you, Sev.” “Yours…” he said in a quiet murmur, trying the word while you watched him expectantly. But it was hard for him to even imagine that what had just happened had, in fact, actually happened.

“Severus,” you began as you rose up fully on your knees, “I want you. And I know you want me, so I’m going to make you feel good enough to accept that. Okay?” you continued and his eyes widened but he nodded and you smiled that sweet smile he loved seeing your face marked by. Then your lips were pressed against his and he melted under the taste of him and you. He wanted you to make him believe you too, so he’d let you try…

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A/N: It’s almost 1 am as I finish writing this, I wrote it in one single sitting right after I got the artist’s permission to write a fic for their art and gosh… This became way longer than I had thought, and bit more “adult” than I’d planned at first but I blame that on me usually writing for older Snape and it’s the middle of the night atm 😂👍 But damn, this was fun and enjoyable to write. I hope you had a good time too, dear reader 🙈😘🖤

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#snape fic #young snape #young snape fic #smut fic #snapedom #pro snape #x reader #reader insert #sub snape #severus snape #snape #deepperplexity #deepperplexity fic

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