#I need to draw them in their shells more often.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kasagia · 1 year ago

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Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist��~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

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swordgrace · 5 months ago

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𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the wake of his burning, aegon’s recovery is marked by rage and insecurities. he pushes you away, but it is your comforting embrace that he desires above all else.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 7.4K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), hurt/comfort, post rook’s rest aegon, aegon isn’t a good person but he’s tormented, unstable marriage, talk of insecurities, wound/scar descriptions, p in v sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, body worship (m & f receiving), lots of kissing & comfort/reassurance, very desperate aegon, begging, sub-ish aegon, reader is on top, riding/cowgirl, mutual orgasm, fingering (fem!rec), soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Aegon, so please be gentle + any feedback/critique on his character is appreciated! He’s quite difficult to write for. Either way, I absolutely loved writing this, and I hope that you all enjoy it, too! As always, thank you for your continued love & support. ❤️

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞. It spread its blazing roots to those cast within it, leaving them hideously scarred or deformed, or perhaps leaving them with nothing left at all.

Grand Maester Orwyle had said that your husband may never walk again — that he may never draw breath again.

The harrowing memory of soot-stained knights hauling your husband in on nothing more than a swath of linen tied to sticks, placing him gently onto your marital bed had haunted you for several weeks since its occurrence. You could recall the pungent scent of charred flesh, the ragged rasps of Aegon’s breathing, the labor and sweat of Maesters working tirelessly to save him.

It was the labored wheeze of his breathing that continued to linger within the recesses of your mind, a sound so hoarse and weak that you wondered if he would survive. Watching your husband become a shell of his former self was never pleasant — you wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even your worst enemy.

Aegon showed a resilience that few thought him capable of — the will to survive, to endure and spite his brother served him well. Even if each breath made him ache and each step had rattled his bones, he continued to progress, showing an astounding level of improvement in a short amount of time.

Fire was the end of all things, but not for him.

The observant gazes of those denizens dwelling within the Red Keep often looked upon Aegon with despair, and perhaps pity — it was a pity that he despised, one that made him quiver with rage. He had been made a cripple by his brother, an undesirable.

No one would want him now — not even you, his resplendent wife, a dutiful creature who had solemnly stood by his side, even after his numerous sins he committed against you. He was burnt and ugly, half of his face marred by a web of scars, ear twisted, silvery hair missing on part of his skull.

It was contempt that fueled him now, and he continued to play the part of a wounded, forgetful dog whenever Aemond was near, but in the sanctity of his chambers, he cursed his brother to whatever Gods would hear him.

If they heard him at all.

With each passing day, Aegon regained strength, yet he used a cane to aid in his unsteady gait. He rarely emerged from his chambers, not wanting to be looked upon as if he were some wounded animal in-need of coddling. Wallowing within his own misfortune became commonplace.

You visited him each day when he was still unconscious, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand within yours, yet Aegon had convinced himself that you no longer loved him. What woman would sensibly love him, after everything he’d done? If you were intelligent, you would dissolve your marriage and find a new lover, cast him into the shadows where he belonged.

Aegon had forbidden you to see him for weeks now, likely out of his own fear of rejection, or seeing the horrified look on your face with his own eyes. Orwyle spoke of your tenderness, how you never left his side when he lay bedridden — he could scarcely fathom it, if he were honest with himself.

The evening was a dour one in King’s Landing, marked by the encroaching threat of war, and supposed riots that had broken out across the city. Aegon sometimes laughed to himself — Aemond never cared about the smallfolk nor their desires, and his former hand had discouraged him from catering to those less fortunate.

It gave him some twinge of satisfaction, knowing that he wasn’t that stupid — not as dull and thick-headed as so many believed him to be. The burden of being King had been forced upon him, even when he never wanted it, and so he had no choice but to simply adapt.

He molded himself to a role that never belonged to him anyway, attempting to fit himself into a puzzle that he was never in to begin with.

Acceptance — he had come to realize that perhaps, unseen forces had tarried and toiled to put him on a Throne that wasn’t his birthright. Even then, Aegon was still the King — but a broken one. Who would ever look to a shattered King for guidance, or to lead them?

Dusk blanketed the city, casting its shadow over the Red Keep, a starless sky — it was instead marked by the black haze of clouds that concealed all, even the moonlight. The Keep itself seemed wrought with tension, one that threatened to snap at any moment.

With Aemond on some warpath, the smallfolk calling for blood, and his own mother dismissed from the Small Council, part of him simply thrived within the chaos, the mess made by his younger brother. It was satisfying to know that even he was not fit to rule — not like he imagined himself to be.

His walk around the corridors had been cut short when he caught a glimpse of Aemond, with Orwyle taking him back to his chambers. Aegon could walk without assistance, yet the distance was never one of any merit.

Much of his unoccupied moments were spent drowning in Dornish Red, or perhaps the most surprising thing of all, reading. He was never the studious child — he preferred merriment and whoremongering over the study of High Valyrian and the histories. Being gnarled like this had forced his hand — perhaps he could still become a learned man.

The Kingsguard he had appointed were gone, sent to join the Night’s Watch or beheaded for insubordination — he had no friends here, nothing left except himself and his mind, still perfectly intact. Now, Aegon intended to sharpen what was left of it, if he could in such a short amount of time.

He spent many of his days in fear — fear of Aemond poisoning his drink or slithering into his chambers like the fanged viper that he was to torment him, or perhaps stick Aegon’s Dagger into his chest. There was time left still for his mad cunt of a brother to finish what he’d started.

As the doors to his chambers rattled, Aegon immediately grabbed the shortsword he kept alongside his cane, breathing becoming strained and heavy. “Who is it?” He barked, palm planted against the sturdy mahogany of his large table.

“The Queen, your Grace.” Ser Belgrave, one of the last decent Kingsguard left in the Red Keep, opened the door just enough for you to see your husband, alive and conscious. He stood watch for a beat, and then closed the doors behind him, leaving you alone with Aegon.

Aegon didn’t know what to say — he was rageful and bitter, and having you here to gawk at him did nothing to quell those feelings. He did admire you from across the room, taking in the plane of cerulean silk you wore, shrouded by a pale robe. Your eyes were indiscernible — he could not tell how you felt from where he sat.

You were, perhaps, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon — and he had seen so many. He recalled when he first saw you in the Grand Sept in your wedding gowns, so shy and saccharine, like the first warmth of springtime. It wasn’t a union he cared for or desired, but duty demanded that he wed you, and you would give him heirs.

So much of his time was wasted in the arms of whores who cared for nothing save the size of his coin purse, when it all should’ve been dedicated to you — the last person who truly cared for him.

“Aegon,” There was not an ounce of reproach within your voice, and instead, it was all a breathy sigh of relief. You had only seen him in-passing, walking alongside Grand Maester Orwyle or Lord Larys Strong. He had not allowed you to see him fully, until now. “I …”

“Save your pity,” Aegon quipped, turning away from you as he turned inward upon his books, instead. Gods, he felt wretched for constantly causing you such agony, but he could not endure the sight of you seeing him. “Have you come to see the withered King?” He mumbled, voice riddled with disdain.

Aegon was not an easy husband — and your union had been fraught with strife, hallmarked by his love of whores and wine, his absence felt by you each and every moment. You had passed this off as reality — this was what marriage was, and you had no choice but to accept it or crack beneath the pressure.

Even now, you were willing to forgive him.

Instead, you gathered your skirts and inched closer, longing to look upon him again with your own eyes. He had always been a beautiful man, so handsome with those regal Targaryen features that it often stole your breath away — and that hadn’t changed.

“I missed you,” You confessed, and it made Aegon’s throat become unbearably thick. Tears stung his eyes, tears born of frustration, an inner hatred and disgust, a disbelief that you truly meant any of this. “I thought that I could stay with you this evening.”

“No,” Aegon retorted, voice trembling at the bottom of his throat as he shook his head. “I do not want you here. I forbid you from seeing me. What part of that do you not understand?” His rage swelled — but not at you. He was so angry with himself that it began to manifest in uncouth ways.

It stung you, but not as much as you thought. Aegon kept you away, pushed you out to arm’s length because he feared what you might think of him. Being beloved and liked by those around him, the desire for attention and adoration, was perhaps one of his greatest flaws. When he could not find validation, it was easy to find it with a whore instead, or in the simpleminded lickspittles.

If Dornish Red could talk, perhaps he would find whatever comfort he sought there, too.

He reached for his goblet of wine, hand unsteady as he held it to his lips, and even then, he looked absolutely pathetic when taking a swig. “I cannot even drink without looking fucking pathetic,” Aegon snarled, letting out a bark of humorless laughter. “I cannot walk without being gazed upon like a wounded animal.”

At last, you began to understand where this anguish came from, where it all manifested. As much as you pitied your husband for the tragedy that had befallen him, you admired his resilience, his desire to endure and push on, even if it was most unpleasant.

“Aegon …” As your soft palm reached to rest against his shoulder, he violently jerked away, recoiling as if it were you that had burned him. “I am here for you. We are still married — allow me to continue to be your wife.” You whispered, flinching when he let out a sardonic laugh.

The scars were everywhere, enveloping half of his body, still aching with a dull pain that he muddied with poultices and Orwyle’s draughts. Aegon refused to take Milk of the Poppy, enduring his agony in different ways, ones that many would consider to be harder.

“Gods, how cunning you are — you play the role of naivety so well,” Aegon hissed, attempting to pull himself up from his table, hand reaching for his cane. “I am burnt, I am disgusting, and I am a cripple. You are not here for me — I do not want your pity!” He growled, voice raising to a tempestuous level.

You did not press him further, but you could see the tears glistening within his lilac hues, spilling down his cheeks as he began to laugh. The sound was grating and hollow, devoid of any amusement — just emptiness. He used what momentum he had to stand, grip ironclad and white-knuckled around his wooden beam of support.

“Why must you continue to push me away, Aegon? Have you not done it enough?” You questioned, voice sharp and wrought with emotion, sentiments that you had been repressing for so long, for the entirety of your marriage. “Must I always justify why I want to be your wife? We are married — I love you.”

Aegon froze, tears spilling over his face, countenance one of complete and utter bewilderment. He could not discern if you were genuine or simply conniving, or if you were being true. You had told him that you loved him before, and he always cast it aside — maybe you had truly meant it all this time, and he was too indifferent to realize it.

His back was partially turned to you, as if warding you away from seeing him. Aegon had been made to think that he was a failure all his life, that he was insignificant, made to do nothing instead of act. Whenever he did act, it was impulsive and reckless, branded acts of stupidity.

Maybe the one thing he could do right was you — mend the divide, mend the bridge that had kept you distanced for so long.

That cold, bitter laughter soon dissipated into what were choked sobs, ones of despair — he had been holding himself together for so long, for the sake of the realm, for the sake of a family that cared so little for him. His body ached and trembled, and as much as he attempted to move away from you, he couldn’t.

The nearest settee happened to be where he fell, landing against the velveteen cushions, head hung in despair, body wracked with sobs. He was undesirable, undeserving of you and your love. He was some withered husk, a shell, a monster still dressing in the clothing of a King — he was nothing.

Yet, you made him feel like something.

Silently, you crossed the cold stone to join him on the settee, sitting at his side as you gingerly let your palm settle against his back. “You underestimate how much I still care for you, husband.” You whispered, caressing along his spine with a feather-light touch.

Aegon felt drawn to you, pulled into the warmth of your comforting fire, knowing that if there was still one person left in this world who cared enough, it was you. Tears stained his visage, leaving behind streaks of red, eyes wet with many left unshed.

“Why should you?” Aegon questioned, his voice beginning to lose the fury and rage it held before, and it was melancholy. Anyone would’ve asked themselves such a question, but you didn’t — you remained steadfast. “I have brought nothing but misery upon you.”

It was complex, his statement — you had been miserable for some time, but this tragedy that afflicted you both was something worth overcoming. You were beginning to see the true Aegon, the one buried beneath the weight of the crown, the weight of inferiority.

“There is still time for forgiveness.” Your words were poignant and soft, and they were enough to move Aegon to tears again. He sat there beside you, crying to himself, breaking down completely. You had never seen him like this before — and perhaps, it was long overdue.

The comfort you provided was one he so desperately sought, even if he felt so guilty. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this, to deserve you — and yet he welcomed the grace of your palm, the sound of your songbird’s voice, soothing him with your gentle smile.

He was ashamed for you to see him this way, a man lacking the strength of physicality, the strength to hold a shortsword. It often wavered within his grasp — he would never be able to protect you. His beloved dragon was left in ruins, recovering in the Dragonpit — everything he had that made him strong had been taken.

Aegon was terrified to look upon you in such close quarters, afraid to feel the bitter jab of rejection, the horror and abhorrence within your gaze as you found his scars. He dared not turn, only keeping the intact side bared to you, still perfectly handsome.

Orwyle had harkened this to some miraculous recovery, a sign that the Gods favored him — Aegon did not feel favored, nor did he feel that he deserved it. Whatever he used to think, that his father wheezed his last breath desiring him on the Iron Throne, was nothing more than a twist of words.

There was nothing miraculous or prophetic about him — he was a sad, drunken cripple left to rot.

As much as he commiserated over his woes and the foul hand dealt to him by his brother, Larys had convinced him to live out of spite — and you convinced him that being alive, even in this wretched state, was a reality that was worth seeking.

He nearly crawled away at the sensation of your fingertips brushing along his jaw, unmarred and unscathed by the garish tangle of scars. Aegon shivered at your embrace — he had gone so terribly long without it, wondering if he would ever feel it again.

“I remember when I saw you for the first time, in the Grand Sept — I thought that you were the most resplendent man that I had ever seen,” You crooned, feeling him nudge his cheek into your palm. You gently swiped away a stray tear beneath his eye. “You still are.”

Aegon scoffed — a bitter, vitriolic sound that made his breath turn hoarse for a moment. He found it incredibly difficult to believe you, to find any merit in what you said given the circumstances. Even if you still loved him, that did not include his horrific appearance.

Tears trickled down his face, ones that you collected with your thumb before he shook his head. “Do not patronize me,” He murmured, visage furrowing together. “You cannot mean any of that. Look at me,” Aegon hissed, only slightly turning towards you. “I am a loathsome creature.”

His misery was an understatement when it came to his appearance — he looked like some monster, gnarled and withered beyond recognition. Whenever he looked into the mirror, he screamed and raged until he fell, or perhaps lost his voice.

Any Targaryen was often regarded as beautiful — pale, platinum tresses and lilac hues, a countenance as regal and as beautiful as a god. He was nothing more than a cockroach, now. He couldn’t fathom that you still desired him in a conventional way.

With a soft, tender touch, your hand then moved to rest against his shoulder. “If there is a loathsome creature here, I do not see it,” You murmured, head canting to one side. “What must I do to convince you, Aegon? Do you not believe me?”

Aegon’s trust had worn so thin that it threatened to snap, threadbare and nonexistent. He could only allow himself to trust so much — everyone he thought he could confide in or rely on had now turned against him, or attempted to slaughter him.

“It is hard to believe anyone anymore.” He murmured, staring down at his hands — one trembled, wreathed in burn scars, and the other clenched into a tight first.

He was made to believe that he was the rightful heir over Rhaenyra, when that was never the case. He was made to believe that he was a good ruler, when his Small Council plotted behind his back without his knowledge. He believed that Aemond was loyal to him, that he loved him as a brother would.

Lilac hues flickered from the void of his chambers to you, peering at you from beneath the curtain of pale tresses that still clung to his head. Despite the accusations of disloyalty he had hurled at you, his mistrust and doubt of your true intentions, you still maintained an amiable gaze.

You stared at him as if he had moved mountains, pulled the stars from the heavens for you — and he realized that no one, besides you, had looked at him in such a way before. It was profound and affectionate, wrought with a palpable adoration that came from a deep-rooted place of good.

Aegon’s throat grew tight, thick with emotion as he drank you in, tracing over the delicate plane of your features, the spark of warmth that brightened your eyes. Such divine beauty that he had robbed himself of for so long — he only felt like a fool, the greatest fool there was.

With an unsteady, quivering hand, he hesitantly reached out to you, unburnt fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. He sucked in a sharp breath whenever you shuddered, face turning inward to press a kiss against his palm.

“I want to see you, husband.” You whispered, grasping his hand with both of yours, digits oozing with the radiance of heat that blossomed from you. The burn scars were carefully concealed behind silken garments, hidden from sight. Aegon grit his teeth together, not wanting you to see how disfigured he’d become.

“No,” Aegon quipped, shifting away from you with a scornful, wary expression. Whatever handsomeness he possessed before, it had all been burned away, turned to ash — and it left him, this husk of himself, with a physique that was repulsing to behold. “There is nothing pleasant about it — it is rotten.”

Rotten was perhaps a vast exaggeration for his wounds and scars, something that you found to be perplexing. Scars did not bother you, and you wouldn’t let your husband’s insecurities dissuade him from your comfort and care. Still holding his hand, you moved closer, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

Aegon shivered beneath the chaste kiss, wanting nothing more than to collect you into his arms. The gnawing fear of your potential repulsion made him hesitate, and the bitter stab of rejection seemed to dig into him more than anything else.

“What woman would want this?”

Aegon’s forlorn, despondent inquiry hung above the both of you like some dour cloud. His grim outlook was something that you could sympathize with, given that his appearance had been torn apart within an instant. He swallowed the sob building within his chest, violet hues glistening with wet tears.

At last, he looked at you fully, exposing the marred, scarred side of his visage, tangled with a web of textured burns. His eye was sunken in, vessels having broken the white around his iris, ear nearly missing entirely, countenance partially mottled.

It was the same with his body, nearly half of it covered in the same fleshy web, scars spreading out like the roots of a tree. Aegon looked to you with a shattered expression, one that possessed a vehement swell of rage and frustration, yet still retained a sense of desperation. He was desperate to have your approval, for you to tell him that he was still perfect, regardless of his disfigurement.

Without a word, you moved your hand toward the maimed side of his face, expecting him to rip away or recoil entirely. Instead, he stayed there, rooted in-place, shuddering when the softness of your palm cupped his jaw. The pad of your thumb gingerly raked over his cheek, feeling along every scar and rough surface.

“I want you, Aegon,” The soft, silky resonance of your voice had brought him to heel, gaining his subservience, despite his inner battle with his insecurities. He feared being ugly in your eyes, as if his heart weren’t black and decayed enough. “I want you still.” Your lips twitched into an amiable smile.

For a moment, his eyes had fluttered shut, and he soaked in the sensation of your touch, warm and real against his cheek. It felt incredible, something he had craved for so long — it had left a gaping hole within his chest. Any tears that fell, you collected them with your fingertips, swiping them away.

Again, you inched closer, leg-to-leg with him, gaze drifting towards his lips. Aegon did not dissuade you from it, breathing becoming somewhat laborious as you pressed forward, mouth molding against his. It had been a long time since you had kissed him — truly kissed him.

A low, stirring groan reverberated within the depths of his throat, and at last, he reciprocated. Aegon’s kiss was done in a flurry of passion, realizing what he hadn’t had for so long. You tasted saccharine, warm and soft against him, mouth pliant and willing.

Gods, how blind he was — foolish, fragile, moronic.

He had abandoned you for unattainable things, for insignificant people that cared little about his wellbeing. Aegon had you — you, so devoted and loyal and forgiving, even when he deserved none of it. He very nearly sobbed again, knowing what error and sin he’d committed against you, but he shoved it down.

His insecurities seemed so small, as if they were wiped away by the curve of your mouth that so desperately kissed him. Aegon moved his good arm, bringing it to the swell of your hips, feeling your supple physique through the thin silk of your nightgown.

A sweet, simpering moan bubbled within your throat, a sound that so clearly vocalized your desperation for him, your repression and longstanding suffering. “Aegon,” You whispered, sending tremors down his spine as he kissed your jaw. “We don’t have to, we — you’re in pain.” You didn’t want to subject your husband to such agony.

Aegon shook his head, willing to push through the dull aching if it meant that he could have you again. Despite his fractured confidence, you made him feel so strong again, as if he still looked as he had before the burning. “Fuck agony,” He panted, hot breath fanning across your flesh. “I need you.”

That was enough to send a surge of molten heat throughout your belly, thighs rubbing together to alleviate some of your mounting arousal. “To bed, then.” You whispered, and Aegon swore that he moved quicker than normal, as if you had rejuvenated in some mystical way through words alone.

Using his cane to support most of his weight, he sluggishly walked toward your marital bed, feeling you hover around his side. You did not help him, and he didn’t want it, anyway. He was growing stronger by the day, capable of making it to his bed without support.

Fresh linens, silks, and feathered pillows had replaced ones used yesterday. It was all clean, smelling of lavender and honey. As he sat along the edge of the bed, he nearly chuckled at all of this — finally laying with you out of desire, and not duty, looking positively abhorrent.

If only it hadn’t taken him so long to get here.

“Are you certain, Aegon? I do not wish to hurt you, I —” Before you could prattle on about your concerns, Aegon silenced you with a kiss, coaxing you down by his side. His lips remained unblemished and unburnt, the taste of Dornish Red and sugar permeating his tongue.

“You won’t,” Aegon uttered, lilac hues raking over you, hungry and rapturous. “And if you do, you will not stop until I tell you to.” His tone retained a sternness to it, one that pleaded with you to allow him to drown in your affections, just like he always wanted.

With a gentle nod of your head, Aegon pushed your tresses away from your neck, thumb caressing along the column of your throat before he pressed a kiss there. You scarcely recalled the last time he’d done something like this, but you weren’t about to protest.

He wanted to hear your sighs and sweet whimpers, the sound of his name, breathy from your tongue. Aegon did not have the stamina he used to, but he would rather damn himself instead of stopping so quickly. He kissed and bit at your neck, soothing each mark with the languid lap of his tongue.

Gods, that sound — Aegon delighted in listening to your soft, wanton moan, pearlescent teeth nipping at your sensitive skin, kissing wherever he could reach. His burnt hand trembled, the flesh tender and still pulsating with a dull ache, but he elected to ignore it as best as he could.

Your hand pressed against his unmarred thigh, gripping into the flesh there as he groaned against you. He had finally gotten rid of that horrid, lengthy nightshirt, back to linen trousers and a silken, emerald tunic. His growing erection wasn’t subtle in the slightest.

“Let me see you.” Aegon murmured, wanting to look upon you with renewed eyes. You had always been beautiful to him, but now, you were captivating — a goddess incarnate, come to grace him with your presence. He watched as you stood, unraveling your robe as you draped it across the foot of the bed.

His mouth became dry, desire swelling within him like the urgent crash of a tidal wave. Aegon’s violet gaze remained transfixed, unable to tear themselves away from you and your perfection.

You stood in between his legs, shedding the thin, sheer gossamer of your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet before you nudged it aside. The last time you had undressed for Aegon, he was drunk and needy, several months ago.

His intoxication was of a different sort now, drunk upon your resplendence, your beauty, living and breathing before him. Aegon gripped your hip with his good hand, learning forward to press kisses all along your abdomen and stomach.

The sensation of your hand, so gentle and sweet, slipped against his marred cheek, gingerly caressing over his uneven web of scars, encapsulating over half of his skull. Aegon nearly groaned at your heavenly touch, the touch of a wife who loved her husband, scars and all.

He did not feel so monstrous anymore.

Aegon turned to press a kiss against the inside of your wrist, savoring the feeling of your fingertips roving across his scars. It was only when you moved to kiss the top of his head that he nearly faltered, breath warbled and wavering, surprise settling into his features.

He moved back, countenance twitching with pain for a fleeting moment, finding comfort within the silken duvet and soft sheets of your shared bed. You nearly moved to sit beside him again, but he stopped you, swallowing the growing lump within his throat.

“No,” Aegon whispered, tone a low, husky resonance, strung out with desire as he coaxed you into his lap with certainty. “Come here.” Those lilac hues were blown-out with lust and bewilderment, enthralled by you as he felt you settle down against him, thighs firmly caging him in on either side.

A grunt stirred within his chest, a dull throbbing pulsating throughout his body, but he persisted, feeling your plush form sit right in his lap. His good arm stroked along your spine and hip, faces mere breaths apart, and he kissed you with a blinding fervor.

Aegon never kissed you like this — not until now.

Whatever sentiments you felt for him, the ones that drove you to complete devotion, began to resurface — you still loved him fiercely, despite everything. “Will you allow me to see you, too?” You whispered against his mouth, digits dancing toward the hem of his tunic.

A beat of hesitation passed through your husband, who almost seemed to revert to his reclusive state. His jaw became tense, an inner war raging within him as he contemplated letting you disrobe him. Aegon looked at you, torn yet wanting, tugging you closer.

You gave him time to deliberate, not wanting to push him into something that he wasn’t prepared for. As if to soothe him, your fingertips traced along his brow line, and into the tangle of scars. “If you do not, I will understand, husband. It will not make me love you any less.”

That alone made him want to remove his tunic.

Aegon tilted forward, burying his face against your collarbone, mottled flesh textured against your own skin. He felt your palm glide against the nape of his neck, carding your digits through his wisps of pale hair. “It is hideous,” He uttered, insecurities bubbling to the surface. “I wouldn’t dare subject you to it.”

“Aegon,” The tenderness of your tone seemed to grab his attention rather swiftly, lilac hues drifting up toward your visage, perfect and comely. “It is all you — every scar and every imperfection, and I will love it all the same. My desires haven’t changed.”

His breath hitched within his throat, eyes swimming with an amalgamation of emotions, some of them too overwhelming to fully comprehend. He had sorely missed your embrace, and to further deprive himself of it seemed like an unimaginable torture.

You wanted him to take his time, neck craning as you peppered your lips against his throat — the burnt side, flesh marred and uneven, the sensation akin to a leathery surface. Aegon exhaled, gripping you tighter as he reveled in the feeling of your mouth.

It was he who initiated the removal of his tunic, attempting to pry it away and over his head, but he struggled, a low groan escaping him. Aegon wanted to feel independent, to do something himself, but he relented, accepting your assistance.

Removing the garment felt like an eternity, born out of his own nervousness and crippling insecurity of you seeing him this way, marred and mottled. Only half of him was covered in that tangled, leathery web of scars, spiraling down his entire physique.

Hovering your palm above his chest, Aegon’s lilac gaze silently pleaded with you to touch him, grace him with the touch of your resplendence. The scars were rough and uneven, innumerable and etched into his flesh like a blanket of leather.

Yet, you did not recoil or shy away, tracing patterns over his skin, pressing your sweet kisses wherever you could reach. Aegon felt his cock twitch and throb with desperation, longing to be inside of you. The tender care you showed him meant more to him than any crass or lewd act did.

You kissed his scarred shoulder, a gesture so comforting and kind that Aegon shuddered from exhilaration. That pattern of soft worship continued, as you kissed his scars again and again, reverence seeping into each grace of your mouth.

“Gods, how divine you are,” Aegon exhaled, quivering hand finally extending just enough to knead against your thigh. The palm that held your hip traced towards the warmth between your legs, and he shivered at the slick arousal there. “What a pleasant surprise.”

You squirmed, cunt aching for him in every way imaginable, hips jolting into the sensation of his practiced digits. Aegon was swift to reward your kindness with quick strokes of his fingers, tracing along your slit before caressing your clit, toying with the sensitive pearl.

The game of waiting was an agonizing one, as he longed to be inside of you, let you feel him again with renewed vigor, drown himself within your love. Aegon groaned when your lips met his, connecting with a thinly-veiled ardor, passionate yet tender.

Agony and pain became a thing of the past — even if his body ached and contorted with a continuous sting, he didn’t care. He wanted to endure for you, savoring each moment, digits greedily stroking away at your cunt in order to warm you up.

Desire made him dizzy, head beginning to spin in a delirium, induced by the growing haze of lust. He couldn’t recall the last time he laid with a woman and truly enjoyed it — but he was enjoying this — he loved your body, and above all else, he loved you.

“I want you inside of me,” You panted, hot breath fanning across the shell of his ear. A shiver cascaded along his spine, prompting him to slow the steady strokes of his digits. “Aegon, please.” With a pleading tone that brought Aegon to heel, he nodded, letting out a grunt of discomfort.

He gently removed you from his lap, but only to readjust, moving himself back against the mound of feathered pillows and cushions. Those violet hues silently observed you, rapturous and starving, like a hound preparing to devour its meal as you clamored forward again.

Your hands moved to the leather ties of his breeches, loosening them up enough to free his cock from its confines, flushed head oozing with tendrils of precum. Aegon wasn’t shy about how aroused he was, how desperately he needed you.

“Sit,” Aegon groaned, hand kneading against your hip, attempting to coax you onto his hardened length. “Please, I — I need you.” You hadn’t heard him beg before, but the sound was husky, timbre strung-out with desire as you crawled back into his lap.

As you gently lowered yourself onto his cock, Aegon nearly moaned at the sensation, head rolling back against the pillows as you sank down completely. He couldn’t move like he used to, guide you along or assist, but he did squeeze your hip, caressing all along your side.

Depriving himself of you for so long was perhaps one of the greatest faults he’d ever made, filling him with a wave of guilt. He could not make up for it anymore, properly ravage you in the way that you deserved, but he hoped that this was a start.

Everything began to ache with more of an intensity, a dull throbbing sinking into his bones, but he relented. Aegon would not deny himself, and he would not deny you, above all else. A myriad of throaty groans escaped him as you began to move, hips rocking forward, disarmingly gentle and sluggish.

You did not go quickly at all, each movement slow and steady, thighs stinging from exertion. Slowly, you reached for his hand, the one that had stayed closer to his chest, longing to hold it, if he was able. Aegon’s breath hitched when you did, gently twining his fingers with your own as you rode him.

His cock filled you perfectly, filling a void within you that had been left half-empty for so long. At last, you had your husband again — the one that you yearned for since your wedding day. With gentle gyrations, you moved yourself up and down along his length, continuing your sluggish rhythm.

The palm that cupped your hip and thigh soon slithered toward the apex of between your legs, hoping to stimulate you just as you did him. Your moans, breathy and high-pitched, filled your chambers, noises that he had been longing to hear.

The full, lovely swell of your breasts bounced gently atop your chest as you continued your ministrations, repeating the monotonous motion of rocking along his cock. Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, and it quickly spread to your loins when Aegon’s thumb caressed the pearl of your cunt.

He wasn’t going to last much longer in this state, cock throbbing with tendrils of precum that released themselves inside of you. The way in which you milked him, moved agonizingly slow, allowing him to feel your cunt tighten around him — it was nearly overwhelming.

Your cunt clenched pathetically, snug around his length as you continued to ride him, his cock bottoming out within you. It was a perfect storm of sensations, between the fervent circles he traced into your clit coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, you knew that your release was near and inevitable.

A breathy sigh of ‘fuck’ emerged from Aegon’s mouth, countenance contorted into a look of complete and utter ecstasy. “Gods, do not stop,” Aegon commanded through wanton groans, hips desperately wanting to buck up inside of you, but the pain was becoming too great. “Please.” He pleaded.

Everything felt so raw and sensitive, nerves set ablaze, arousal gripping him tightly as you continued to ride his cock, ensuring that you were still incredibly gentle. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you move, cautious and mindful of him, lips agape and visage one of sheer bliss.

The delight you felt was immense, holding onto Aegon’s hand, wanting to grind yourself into his thumb. “Aegon,” You moaned, looking down upon him with reverence and awe, no inkling of disgust to be found — it was ardor and want, all tangled into one. “I—I’m close!” Your whine made him want to tear you apart.

It only took one more roll of your hips for him to fall apart, in shambles beneath you, hot ropes of virile seed filling your womb with desperation. Aegon saw stars from the intensity of his release, nearly collapsing in the aftermath of it all.

His breathing quickened, hoarse and labored as you tilted your hips forward, finding a much-needed friction as he caressed your clit even still. Watching you reach your release with his own eyes was a captivating sight, mesmerizing to behold as you shuddered, trembling and aching with relief.

He huffed, attempting to recuperate as you stayed in his lap for a moment longer, slick with your nectar and his own spent, its sheen coating the inside of your thighs. You removed yourself from him to give him some reprieve, stepping away to clean yourself up and retrieve your nightgown.

Aegon’s visage became one of immediate concern as he watched you move away, worried that he had offended you. “Where — Are you not staying?” He questioned, hastily maneuvering his breeches up around his hips again, doing his best to lace up the leather ties.

Surprised, you stopped near the basin of water sitting along the vanity, head canting to one side. “I intended on staying with you, unless you do not want me to.” You replied, sliding the silken garment back on after having taken a swatch of cloth to the warmth between your thighs.

“I want you,” Aegon’s tone had become a rather desperate resonance, as if imploring you to stay even when there wasn’t a need for him to do so. “I want you to stay.” He uttered, lilac hues somewhat shrewd as you approached, helping him put his tunic back on.

“Of course.” With a soothing voice, you pressed a kiss against the scarred side of his scalp, and then to his forehead, helping to ease him back down into bed. The draught left behind by Maester Orwyle assisted with the pain — not nearly as strong as Milk of the Poppy, but it was the best choice.

Taking a swig, Aegon sighed, feeling you climb into bed, curled against the good side of his body. He immediately collected you into his arm, feeling your cheek press into his shoulder. It was the most satisfying feeling in the world, having you by his side again.

“If you are agreeable to it,” Aegon began, tracing patterns into the small of your back, “I wish for you to stay here again, and share my bed.” He didn’t demand anything, nor did he use his title and power to force you into sharing your chambers again.

He would’ve understood if you declined, given everything that had happened between the both of you.

Aegon loathed the thought of being alone again, to return to his reclusive existence of self-deprecation and endless misery when you were still here, living perfection — his beloved wife. He turned his head just enough to kiss your crown, briefly inhaling your floral scent, one that he sorely missed.

“I would like that,” You hummed, comfortable by his side. It was the first time in many moons that Aegon felt almost entirely comfortable again, scars and all. “Know that I love you, Aegon — until my last days.” With a gentle touch, you reached for his marred hand, holding it delicately within your own.

Tears swam within his lilac hues, and he had to squeeze them shut just to alleviate that feeling of sobbing. To hear you say with certainty that you loved him — he knew that he no longer needed to fear the idea of living, not when he had you.

“I love you.” Aegon whispered, barely above a whisper. He held you tightly, cradling you close, grasp innately protective even when danger didn’t hang over your heads.

Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he was finally being transparent with himself — with his inner turmoil, with his very existence, and that he loved you too.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not copy/steal my work and claim it as your own. please do not translate my work onto other platforms.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen x y/n

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kissitbttr · 1 year ago

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nobody understands how you did it.

how you managed to swept him off his feet, breaking the walls he had built pieces by pieces, how the fuck did you get him to be comfortable with you? to be open with you? and only with you.

‘never seen him this happy or loose in a long time, lass. what’s your trick, eh?’ the captain pulls a joke, making the rest of the team laugh. ‘i think I speak for everyone when i say, he never brings a girl out. let alone introducing her to us.’

that one is true. years of being friends with ghost, the captain nor his closest friend ‘soap’ has ever seen him out on a date. they encouraged him though, since there have been so many women tried their ways to get close with the big guy, yet none of them succeed.

the masked men would often just shrug them off and give one hard cold answer. they would back away immediately

“guess i just have my ways” is what you always say. even soap couldn’t register how it happened. he couldn’t figure it out himself, he knows the lad way longer than you do.

they don’t believe you. because there is no way in hell that all you did was to bat your lashes, show him your adorable giggle and he was in. there’s gotta be more to it.

so what is it about you that draws him close? what is it about you that makes ghost’s eyes light up each time you step into the room? what is it about you that makes ghost’s heart skip a beat every time he talks to you?

certainly not because how you’re so patient in getting to know with him, right? not because how you trace his scars ever so lightly and call them pretty every single time he’s doubtful about himself. not because how you console him with ‘I’ve got you, baby’ each night a nightmare comes back to haunt him while rubbing his back soothingly. not because how you shower him with soft, gentle kisses to remind him that your love for him is bigger than anyone could have offered. not because how you understand why he can’t say the three letter words to you, just yet. still, you stick around.

definitely not, right? there’s no way. he’s simon ghost riley. no one or nothing could ever be good enough to make this man come out of his shell. it’s impossible, right? you’ll need a miracle for that.

“love?” you hear a voice calls, along with the sound of keys being tossed into a ceramic bowl. heavy boots thumping against the marble floor,

you step out of the kitchen. long hair tied up into a messy updo, clear frame glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. dressed in one of his favorite sleeping gown as your eyes locked with his brown ones. the balaclava still attached to mask his handsome face.

scarred lips stretch into a smile the moment his beautiful fiancé emerges from the kitchen.

he drops his bag onto the floor, pulling the mask off of him slowly. revealing his disheveled blond hair as he takes slow steps towards you.

“hi, baby” your voice brings him home. no soul could ever take away from him. he longs for that angelic tone each time he gets deployed. three or six months without listening to you speak to him is just insanity.

he’d rather lose his hearing entirely than not having to hear you at all.

he’s quick to embrace you in his arms. your face hiding in the crook of his neck, inhaling that signature scent of his that you had missed, dearly.

“what are you making?” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, giving it a peck before pulling away slightly to take a good look at you. “it smells good”

“your favorite” you kiss his chin, causing his cheeks to redden at the affection. “i even bought those lumpias down the 112th street. i know how much you love them. pretzels bites from the deli for snacks aaand, black pepper beef with rice for your dinner. sounds good?”

simon leans against the doorway as he watches you plate everything. rambling about everything. his smile widens even more at your domestic antics. the way you talk with your hands as you mention another annoying co-worker that keeps bugging you and the way you roll your eyes when a splash of gravy spill from the plate.

truly is a sight.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your lips raise into a curious smile, finger moving a dark lock that sticks into your forehead,

he gives you a small shrug. gaze not leaving you neither does his smile.

“you’re just so beautiful”

something so simple yet it makes your stomach fills with butterflies.

you chew on your lower lip to prevent you from smiling too much, but a hint of blush is dusting your cheeks betrays you.

“come, papi… don’t want the food to get cold now, do we?” you change the subject while you nod your head towards the empty seat across. “eat with me”

the two of you sit there while making a small talk. stealing glances every second. feeding each other’s food. soft laughs fall upon both of your mouths when one make a terrible joke.

something you’d see when two people are in love. c

so yes, the answer to that question. it is possible. because you made it possible. you made it possible for him to love again. even if he had to start all over. you made it possible for him to be vulnerable. you gave him a purpose the moment he thought things were looking bad for him.

he found a solace within your existence.

only you made it possible to bring the simon in him.

vbecause you. are his home

#simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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lina-linny · 4 months ago

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Summary: minhos little sister has always been invisible to most people. Maybe kim seungmin can be the person that only sees her.

Genre: (hurt), comfort, fluff,

Words: 2.4k

Yn has always been a little, unobtrusive girl. As a child, she was afraid of everything. whether it was small insects, scary ghosts or the naughty teenagers who often took her toys.

she was always quiet, didn't talk much and was always reserved if not shy around strangers.

but luckily for her, she had her older brother minho. he took better care of her than anyone else. Minho had sworn to protect his little sister from everything.

if a huge spider scared yn, minho would take a glass and paper and put the spider, which wasn't really that big, outside the front door (but not without teasing her).

if yn couldn't sleep at night because the ghosts under her bed were keeping her awake, minho would let her sleep in his bed and promise to keep an eye on her all night to make sure no ghosts came and took her away from him.

and when the teenagers from next door came and took away yn's toys and little cars, these same teenagers came to school afterwards with big patches and bruises and apologized meekly to yn.

but there was one thing minho couldn't protect his beloved little sister from, the cruelty of society, which taught little children from such an early age that they weren't enough.

everyone had to be perfect and draw attention to themselves by standing out, otherwise they were overlooked and forgotten, and yn had never been good at that.

She always preferred to hide, like begging for attention. But that led to her being forgotten.

when one of yn's classmates threw a party and invited everyone in the class but had obviously forgotten her invitation cart, every "oh you're still here? I thoughtyou went home." at family get-togethers or parties with friends, or when teachers forgot her name even after several years (but knew the names of all the other students tatelessly)

little situations like these gave yn little stabs every time until her heart was struggling to hold itself together.

she forced herself to come out of her shell more. she tried to join in conversations in smaller groups, to draw attention to herself, but she was overheard. it often felt as if she was invisible.

~☆~

The leaves of the small deciduous trees sank to the ground in the soft light of the afternoon, but no one paid them any attention. Everyone was far too fascinated by the splendor of the beautiful cherry blossoms to notice the agony of the deciduous trees, which were losing their leaves due to this summer's drought. But just because the deciduous trees were not as popular, beautiful and famous as the cherry trees, did they not deserve any love?

Yn waited outside the small ice cream parlor where she wanted to meet her brother and his member seungmin and did what she did best. Being invisible, disappearing in the crowd, not attracting attention.

It had always been her "survival strategy". Not falling out of line paired with a little sarcasm and teasing. But in the long run, always being overlooked made her lonely. The people who were the most invisible perhaps needed someone who only saw them the most.

Seungmin tapped yn on the shoulder. She was startled out of her thoughts and looked directly into Seungmin's amused face, which was covered by a face mask and a cap pulled low over his face, but which she would still recognize within milliseconds.

His face was etched in her memory like no other. From all those sleepless nights when she prayed that he wouldn't overlook her, that his teasing only meant that he liked her too. More like a friend, more like minho's little sister.

Yn was pretty sure that seungmin had snuck up on her on purpose to scare her but didn't comment further.

"So, did you ever manage to break out of your study hell and have a little fun?" He grinned and she immediately went on the defensive.

It's not "study hell"... it can even be fun, but what can I do? you have to study to get good grades."

"Seriously... don't you ever have fun in life? You should think about something else besides studying, studying, stud..." his comment was stopped by one of yn's hands covering his mouth while she replied

"shut up seungmin. where is minho anyway?"

Seungmin sighed dramatically. "Am I not enough for you? Am I that terrible?" Yn just rolls his eyes.

"He... something came up. He told me to take you out for ice cream alone and maybe you'll see you later."

She felt the surprise and anxiety boil in her. Yn took a step back and lowered her gaze to the floor.

"Oh..." so seungmin was here because he wanted to go out for ice cream with minho (with her in tow), but her brother didn't have time and now seungmin had to entertain her somehow. Of course, minho hadn't canceled... he wanted her to finally go out again. But now he had forced seungmin to go out for ice cream with yn, even though he surely didn't want to and had only come out of politeness.

"Let's go inside! I really want to try the mint chocolate chip ice cream here!" Seungmin hadn't noticed the change in her mood, or at least he didn't let on.

Yn stumbled into the store behind him. Seungmin ran straight to the counter, where a wide variety of ice cream flavors were displayed. Yn stared at the flavors. Seungmin had already ordered his ice cream, so now it was her turn.

"Um... vanilla ice cream for me"

"Omg you're so basic" seungmin laughed "really vanilla? Can't you think of anything better?"

Normally she would have laughed but now she just shrugged her shoulders, lowered her head, took her ice cream without comment and headed for one of the tables.

She left a stunned seungmin behind. She usually laughed at his jibes and always had a good counterattack ready. And especially she never ever missed achance to make fun of his obsession with mint chocolate chip ice cream. What was wrong with her today?

He quietly followed her to the table and sat down at the opposite side of the table. They ate their ice cream in silence.

Had he done something wrong? he didn't behave any differently towards her...

"You know... you don't have to be here. I know you're only here because of minho and I don't want you to be forced to eat ice cream with me. you certainly have better things to do." her voice wasn't much louder than a whisper, and yet seungmin heard every single word and felt her insecureties floating in the air between them, like a thick cloud blocking her clear view.

So that was the problem... Seungmin was silent for a while, too taken aback by her comment, but then he replied hesitantly.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I might like you... or something?" Seungmin had always been bad at talking about his feelings with others but... "I'm not here for minho. Why would I be?"

Frustrated, yn closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.

"You know you don’t have to say things just to be polite. Why would you like me? You're just perfect... I'm surprised you even know I exist, let alone know my name. That's more than most people can say about themselves. So why would you go out for ice cream with me if not for my brother? I'm nothing special."

She sheepishly lowered her gaze to her slowly melting ice cream.

Seungmin liked the quick-witted side of her much better. When she knew that teasing and little insults weren't really meant.

He hated to see her hurt, he hated the people who had made such a wonderful person belive over and over again that she was invisible, that no one could notice or like her.

But most of all he hated that she thought he couldn't see her.

How could he miss the most beautiful of flowers in a huge garden? Even though she was small, even though she didn't vie for his attention like the other flowers, Seungmin couldn't take his eyes off her.

Perhaps he was bad at showing how important she was to him. But he had always taken it for granted. Not for a second had the thought crossed his mind that she might think he didn't like her.

"Am I not allowed to go out for ice cream with my favorite lee? I thought you knew that you've always been my favorite. I like you better, like all the other siblings of my members and maybe... if I'm honest, I like you better too, like some of my members... minho can be really annoying sometimes."

It was a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. They both laughed a little but seungmin knew it wasn't enough to tell her that.

"Yn... I like you. Sometimes I think I like you a little too much. I asked minho if the three of us could have ice cream together because I wanted to see you again and because I was... a bit worried. I don't like it when you shut yourself off like that, just study all day and don't text me anymore... because I miss you. You have no idea how much you mean to me. How could I ever miss you or forget that you exist?"

Seungmin sighed, perhaps now was the time to confess his feelings. Now was the right moment. She looked at him a little puzzled by his previous monologue, but she widened her eyes in disbelief at his next words.

"yn i don't just like you as minho's sister and not just as a friend... i like you in... a romantic way. Whenever you're around me, I get these damn butterflies in my stomach and I think in my brain too. So would you go on a date with me?"

"What? Um... so... you're serious, right? It's not a bad joke?" she stammered as her cheeks grew red hot.

"No, I'm completely serious." he laughed.

Wow... um of course i'm going on a date with you... do you have any idea how long i've been waiting for this moment?" She giggled nervously.

yn was quite flustered. She had expected a lot of things, but not this. In her head, he would have said something like "ok, as long as I don't have to stay here with you just to be polite, I'm fine." and then he would have left. She would probably still have been able to handle that better than this.

"Sorry, I'm just slightly overwhelmed." She laughed, looking half-laughingly and half-helplessly at seungmin, who seemed amused by the situation.

"Good, then we'll meet tomorrow evening for our first official date." seungmin added with a laugh and yn giggled too.

Maybe by the next day she had processed the fact that her crush had just confessed his feelings to her and asked her out. Maybe then her brain would work again.

The two grinned at each other and then started eating their ice cream again. This time, they also chatted while they ate. They laughed, giggled and teased each other.

"The ice cream tastes so good"

"You basic bitch can't judge that with your vanilla"

"Hey, at least I have better taste than you. I still don't understand why you are so obsessed whith mint chocolate ice cream. It just tastes like toothpaste."

"Take that back! I'll defend mint chocolate ice cream with my life!"

"If you like it so much, why don't you go on a date with your ice cream?"

"Yes, maybe I should do that. It would only have advantages... the ice cream is delicious, not as cheeky as you and no one will try to steal it from me because this society has not yet recognized the incredible value and taste of mint chocolate ice cream."

~☆~

note: banner is not mine, credits to the owner ♡

#kpop #stray kids imagine #stray kids #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #seungmin #kim seungmin #skz seungmin #south korea #jyp entertainment #boyfriend #jyp stray kids

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shooting-love-arrows · 1 year ago

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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 x [human] reader (gender not implied/specified/mentioned) SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 is determianted to court you (even when in his opinion it's just a formality). TW. delusional thinking, biting, mention of blood A/N: I am fighting writer's block to the best of my abilities but man, fighting Thanos would be easier than that.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who courts you after the very first meeting. It starts small to see if you're interested in him in the first place (in his option it's only formality but he wants to be gentlemerman). But he wants you to know he's taking the whole matter seriously. He brings you the most beautiful trinkets, pieces of coral, pearls of various sizes and colors and shells each different from another but all in perfect condition. Sometimes he even creates jewelry from an ocean plant, pearls and shells. You are often surprised to see him eagerly swimming towards you, with a bag made out of abodemen fishnet filled to the brim with various things taken straight out of the deep sea. You're even more taken aback when it turns out those things are for you. His face absolutely lights up when you accept each and every token. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 also can't help but to chirp loudly, boldly showing you how happy he is to see you accepting his (courting) gifts. You have to admit, his reaction is adorable.

"Oh...look at this one!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 eagerly picked up another shell who has caught his attention. It was big and only needed a little cleaning to make it shine. "It's perfect for the necklace! Oh, oh! And look at that!"

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who affectionately bites you whenever he gets a chance. That's the next stage of courting where an interested merfolk is supposed to nib the one he's interested in to show them they want to take courting to the next level. It's that stage where a courting couple starts to show the public that they're into each other. It served as both letting others know it's a serious matter and leaving a mark/scent on each other for the public to back off. He's got sharp canines and premolars so it's easy for him to leave a mark on your smooth skin. Marking you quickly becomes his favorite thing. Especially when he draws some blood that leaves a wonderful smell. You don't understand why 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 does that, especially when you scold him or tell him not to do that. But he doesn't stop, nibbing at whatever part of your body he can. It's part of the courting rituals after all!

"Oh no, my marks are healing." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 deflated when he noticed the puncures began to fade. Only to quickly perk up when he realized he's got to mark you again and more.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who takes care of his scales like never before. This is a vital part of courting since merfolk want to look their best for their mate. He was taught that as courtier, he should look his best. And that's what 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 does. Suddenly turning from a crude merman whose only interest was hunting for food and playing around, into the beauty guru. He began to thoughtfully groom his tail, until his scales reflected and sparkled under the mere streams of sunlight. He also changed his hairstyle by braiding his hair differently to symbolize that he is now taken (even when you're unaware of that). 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 was never more beautiful.

"This just won't do." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 tutted when he noticed his tail was becoming dull. He needed to look his absolute best for you!

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who decorates his abode for you. After you accept his first courting gift, he happily swims back to where he lives. It's a cave hidden from the plain sight that, much to his horror, appears to be extremely empty and bland. Something that just won't do, especially for his precious mate. Without a moment of hesitation, he starts the preparation. Inside his cave he plants: seaweed, kelp, red sea whips and various colorful corals. Those are only various of many but soon enough the inside of his abode is filled with soft plants, floating lazily around and glistening with colors. On the outside though, he planted a few poisonous plants that he's immune to, since 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 doesn't want intruders to meddle somewhere where they shouldn't be. This part of the courting ritual should be done before the mating season takes place and both parties are in agreement to spend this time with each other. But as we can see, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 just couldn't wait and decided to be prepared. After all, he believes that this whole courting matter is only formality for you to surely return his feelings and has already accepted him as your mate. Just like he did you.

"Is it colorful enough? Should I add something more? Hm, I'll better plant more of those..."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

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fanaticsnail · 3 months ago

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Humiliation: Doflamingo

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 3,300+

Themes: Doflamingo x gn!reader, dub con, humiliation, dom-flamingo, compliance, handjob, bukkake, losing, Doflamingo is a poor winner, mdni, NSFW, 18+, smut, inappropriate use of Den-Den snails

Notes: Day 4 of my celebration event. This is the first time I have written Doflamingo a little more dominant and unhinged. I hope you like it!

“Come closer, little marine,” The pink-feather shrouded warlord condescendingly uttered as he wriggled his finger to beckon you over, “Don't get all shy on me now. Where's that attitude I saw in the arena, hm?”

Sighing out a large exhale of defeat, you enter into the current sterile office housing Donquixote Doflamingo: warlord of the seas. He was a thorn in your side, and through your hasty rise through the ranks, you managed to be in close proximity to the ten foot tall gentleman more often than not. His constant need to get the better of a situation, the desire to vex your boss, Tsuru, and his unrelenting attention on you was unnerving.

Giving him a scowl, you slam the door shut behind you and proceed to lock it. His smirk increased in a large, unhinged grin at your abrasiveness, sitting back at his desk with one knee hooked over the other.

“That's it, keep pouting,” Doflamingo encouraged you, moving one of his arms towards the desk. “This just makes it better for me.” Awakening one of the slumbering snails on the desk, he gently coaxed it with a swipe of his digits over the shell to begin recording your slow and somber dredge to the warlord.

“Starting with the button at the top, slowly pop them for me,” he picked up the shell in his hands, gesturing to the chest of your uniform. You released a dissatisfied sigh, rolling your eyes and undoing the top buttons shielding your body from his view slowly. “There you go. Good job. Pop, pop, pop.” He took up the smaller Den-Den to eye height, which did nothing to shield his menacing smile from your field of vision.

“Donquixote, is the Den-Den necessary?” you growled at him, continuing to pop open your uniform slowly with a grueling and steady pace. You glared into the beady eyes of the snail, peering right into Doflamingo’s soul from behind it, and causing him to chuckle in glee.

“It is for my personal use, yes, my little marine,” he nodded, gesturing for you to slow down your movements to prolong his experience. You growled at him, pinching your sleeves and unbarring the brass from their sockets to move more freely in your rapidly increasing state of undress.

“I am not yours,” you retort, drawing your hands back to your waist and popping the button over your naval. Your lip remained curled as you drew your hand over the final button, holding firmly atop the last button.

“As I understand it, that's exactly what you are for the next…” he batted his eyelashes beneath the shroud of his ruby glasses while humming off in feigned contemplation, “... hour or so. I'm going to enjoy each moment, and you, little marine, just have to act all huffy and angry at me, pretending like you don't want it.”

“I'm not acting,” you stood your ground firmly, almost stomping your foot to add emphasis to your resolve, “I don't want it.”

“Sure you don't,” he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and focussing the eyes of the snail on your form, “Last button now.” You groaned, reaching for the last button and popping it. Rolling your coat from your shoulders, you stand with your chest bare in front of Donquixote Doflamingo. All he uttered was a rolling purr of praise for you, “Good job. Perfect little marine.”

“Oh for fucks sake-,” you attempt to express your disdain, only to be silenced by his immediate hiss.

“-Language,” He chastised you, clicking his tongue while shaking both his head and the snail along with him, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Gonna need to stuff that mouth full of something to teach you some manners. On your knees, marine.”

“Excuse me?” Your shock is adamant in your tone, your arms raising up to cover your chest in reaction to his forward suggestion. “Donquixote, I didn't sign up for that.” He arched his brow, removing his head away from the snail and gazing his pink eyes over the brim of his glasses at you.

“It's ‘Doflamingo’,” he shook his head once more, correcting you and gesturing for you to remove your hands from your chest while beckoning you over towards him, “And yes you did.”

“No I didn't.” You stood firm, refusing to move a muscle in response to his suggestion.

“The terms of our little bet on the outcome of your sword duel were: ‘If you win, you get to claim my feather coat and glasses as a trophy for your victory’.” he recounted, making grandiose gestures with his hands waving out, “‘And should you lose, I get to humiliate you in the privacy of a room of my choosing’. This is my little victory, marine. Get on your knees.”

“I don't remember where I said I had to perform any lude acts for you,” you grumbled, slowly withdrawing your hands from your chest and stiffening your jaw in disgust.

“That comes with the vague term of what it means to ‘humiliate’, sweetheart,” he quipped in return. Gesturing a little more firmly, he again placed his eyes behind the snail and ushered you over, “This is what humiliation looks like to me. Knees. Now.”

In lieu of heeding his firm orders, you huffed and looked away from him. Where he would normally have used his devil-fruit to simply force you to do it himself, he refused to do it to you. He wanted you to want this, and do as you're told, completely of your own volition. Victory tastes sweeter with a willing participant, and he needed you to behave according to his will.

“Oh, come on. You're a marine. You're good at following orders,” he pouted at you, “On your knees for me, sweetheart. Behave yourself.” You grumbled out a hissed growl, dropping to your knees and anchoring your chin to the ground in defeat. Lulling your hands down against your thighs, you allowed him to zoom the needy lenses in further to your bare flesh.

“Look up at me?” He suggested as if it was the easiest thing for you to do. You couldn't help the way his honeyed words shot a wave of need between your legs, your whole body tensing while your eyes slowly sought him out. “There you are,” he whispered breathily, adjusting in his seat. “Now crawl. Slowly.”

You knew it was a losing battle, and you no longer desired to put up with his nonsense for more than absolutely necessary. So, being a marine rising in the ranks and steadfast in completing direct orders, you slowly crawled towards Doflamingo while peering up your lashes at him. Doflamingo shuddered in delight, his body reacting tangibly as he relished in your submission to him.

“Between my thighs. Smile for the Den-Den, marine,” he tapped his thigh playfully while unlacing his knees from one another, “Or pout all cute, and be pissed with me. Whatever makes you more comfortable, darling.” You would've bitten him and punched him if not for the ceasefire between his folk and yours with his standing as warlord, but all you could do was continue sneering at him while complying with his demands.

Each time his face changed angles, the snail would follow along with him. The beady eyes felt unnerving as your body reacted to the humiliation of being forced to crawl on your hands and knees towards him. Knowing there was going to be physical evidence of what was to happen next made your skin tingle in disgust, but you chose to ignore the consequences for now and adhere to his bidding.

“Now be a good little marine and use those tiny fingers of yours to open my pants for me,” Doflamingo’s orders caught you off guard, just as his unoccupied hand covered one of your own. Reaching with his hand over yours up his exceptionally long thighs, he cupped your hand over his crotch and gestured for you to pry it open, “Just like that. You can see how big I am, huh?” He chuckled a little, his cock twitching beneath your palm caused you to panic.

“You're repulsive,” you growled at him, knowing better than to take your hand away regardless of how you were feeling about it.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he purred down at you with a low laugh, “Now behave for me, and take out my cock.” Disgust wrote itself on your face as you whined, reaching forward and breaking away the lacy seam of his patterned pants. It took little effort more than popping the lace for his cock to immediately rise above the shroud of its tight barrier.

Reaching for the last amount of his cock beneath his briefs, you forced your eyes to remain as unmoved as stone as you felt how truly big he was in your smaller hands.

“Now what?” you asked him, gripping his cock in a light circle and looking up to his face with an uncertainty warbling in your voice.

“Take off your pants.”

“Doflamingo, I can't fuck you-!” you protest, looking from the snail, to his cock, to his eyes behind his glasses, to his cock once more.

“-Now who said anything about ‘fucking’, hm?” he chuckled at you, bucking gently in your grasp to have your smaller grip pump his shaft, “I know I didn't. I said: ‘take off your pants’. So do it.”

You flinched back at his words, seeing him almost attempt to catch himself back while ordering you. Standing to full stature before the tall blonde, you hooked your thumbs over your pants and undergarments. Inching them down with an uncaring shimmy caused Doflamingo to once again click his tongue at you and gesture towards your thighs.

“Slower, darling,” he whispered. His voice was husky and purring at you like a jaguar playing with their kill. You were thankful at this moment that you couldn't see his eyes for fear something more sinister lurked beneath the lenses. Turning on your heels, you disguised a gulp of shame with a motion to move your pants down your ass slowly. Hearing the snail lense zoom in closer, you closed your eyes and sighed in defeat.

“There you go,” Doflamingo praised you, moaning with his exhale at the time you took to do as he asked, “Good little marine, following your superior’s orders. Be good for your warlord, baby. Turn around and see how hard you're making me.”

Biding by his orders, you turned to face him. Fighting back the urge for your lip to quiver, you kicked your shoes and socks free and stepped out of your pants. Doflamingo, while remaining overall enthusiastic with his commentary and direct in his orders, moved his hands to the side of the lense and wordlessly checked in with you by the extension of his thumb.

Nodding at his gesture, you then follow the trail down his front and gawk at his throbbing cock bobbing needily and freely in the air. Each part of him was hard and aching with need, and you felt your own arousal begin to expose itself by the clench of your thighs and tremor in your abdomen.

“Come on, darling. Be a dear and hold it for me.” He gestured to you, and you felt obliged to follow his orders. Resuming your position, but now bare and exposed, you wrapped both hands around his shaft and measured its diameter with your thumb and forefingers, “It looks so much bigger in your hands, doesn't it, sweetheart? Fuck.” Doflamingo keeled over, the snail lulling down to view his cock with your hands circling the circumference.

“Something wrong?” you utter in surprise, halting your slow drag of his cock in your firm grasp. You checked in with him, searching his eyes for any signs of discomfort, “Didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, I-...” Doflamingo was taken aback. He truly thought he wouldn't be as impacted by your hands on him rendered him to be. His breath hitched, his voicing coming out in a breathy gasp of your name before hanging his head low and reassuring you, “...no. Okay, stroke it a little. Slowly pump back and forward along my shaft for me.”

You kept one of you hand at his base, the other barely gripping the thick cylinder of his shaft in front of you. Doflamingo groaned, “Both hands, marine,” he drew his hand to your unoccupied wrist and placed your hand on his cock to mirror the other already placed upon it. “G-Good job.”

Slowly pumping his cock gifted to freefalling praises like, “Oh, fuck, just like that. Keep going,” pouring from his lips like the sweetest honey to whisper in your ears. One pump at a time, you were slowly making Donquixote Doflamingo’s voice raise in wanton moans captured in the mouthpiece of the Den-Den snail he was holding in his palm.

“You're not going to cum, are you?” you taunted him with a snarl, ignoring the feeling pooling in your stomach and swelling your own arousal, “Don't you dare, Doflamingo.”

“I'll warn you when I'm going to cum, marine,” he chuckled, releasing your hand held in his wrist and holding it up defensively by his head, “Keep going, sweetheart. I am going to let you know soon.”

Seeing his admission of using you for his own benefit, you increased your pressure and vigorous motions of your hands in a manner that had his breath hitch. He but his lip and threw his head back, truly giving into your motions and rolling his hips to meet your every thrust.

“It is my intention to cum on you, kitten,” Doflamingo informed you, huffing and panting as his pleasure begun to swell and spur up his abdomen. His breaths grew erratic as you bobbed and pumped his cock. “I'm going to mark my territory, and claim my victory.”

“You wouldn't dare,” you gasped, hiding your disgust and arousal at the notion with a grimace, continuing to diligently pump his shaft and pay additional attention to his balls and tip the closer his twitches became. Small droplets of precum sprung forth in dewdrops from his slit, prompting you to almost whine in response, choking it back to continue to steel your resolve.

“This is the first and only time I'm going to ask you,” Doflamingo informed you with a heady groan to follow. You noticed his desperation laden in every buck and roll of his hips to meet with your motions.

“Where am I going to cum, marine?” he asked, moving the snail to peer down at you over his rose-tinted glasses, “Because, whether you like it or not, I am going to cum on you. You get to pick: face, chest, stomach, legs. Anywhere you want, baby. I'm going to cover you in it.”

“You're despicable,” you gasp at him with a scowl on your lip and lust in your eyes. Denying the fact that this lewd act was enticing you to a point where your arousal was noticeable was barely worth the effort. You were living for this, regardless for the consequences that were to provide as an encore to your efforts.

“I'm victorious,” he corrected you, “And this is how I'm celebrating.” Thrusting up to meet your strokes, his cock twitched in your hands as more drops softly gathered at the tip of his cock and drooled down his shaft.

“Since you didn't answer,” he panted, gently lulling your name from his lips as he continued to rock against your hands, “Tongue out, baby. Gonna cum on your face.” Reaching forward, he cupped the back of your neck and drew your face towards his cock, “Lick.”

“Dofla-.” Your protests were stifled by the warlord interrupting you.

“-I said ‘lick’, not ‘talk’.” His barked order was almost manic. He drew your face towards his tip as he began to rut his large cock against your firm grip, “Gonna cum. Gonna cum-!”

Lulling your tongue over your lips, you flicked it over his tip and swirled it against his shaft. Your saliva added that last element to hone his impending eruption on point, his cock pulsing in your hand as he shot ropes of salted splashes over your tongue, lips and gave.

“Fucking take it. Take it all, marine,” he groaned, continuing to flood you with his cum at each rut of his hips into your palm and over your tongue. He was so much larger than you, once he began releasing, nothing halted how much he soaked you with his cum. “Oh, hgnhhh-... fuck-! Look so nice all covered in me like this.”

His praise caused you to flutter your eyes shut and focus yourself on behaving perfectly for the Den-Den shell and for the warlord. “Fuck yes, you look so fucking good. Good job, all messy.” Riding his high and choking out the last waves of his viscous lust coating your features.

“Look up at me,” he ordered you. Immediately you floated your eyes open and gazed up at him lustfully through the shroud of your eyelashes. Doflamingo was heaving and panting, relishing in the portraiture he christened you with. “There you are. So pretty like this, baby.” He praised you, his honeyed words shooting straight to your abdomen and igniting your lust.

“Now look at the Den-Den, tell them what you did wrong.”

“I lost a swordfight with one of the Donquixote pirates,” you confessed deadpan into the lense. The soft glimmer of light reflected from Doflamingo’s cum on your skin into the lense.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Doflamingo purred down at you with a hint of pride in his tone, “And who's cum are you covered in?” You peered past the snail shell and burned your cum-soaked vision down the barrel of the snail lense.

“Donquixote Doflamingo’s.”

“Good marine,” he chuckled down darkly. He reached down and began softly thumbing at the sticky cum littering your lips and cheeks, “Give me a little smile for the Den-Den.” His tone caused your prior pride in making him cum vanquish immediately, your scowl once again returning to your face as he spoke, “Or keep pouting, if that's your prerogative.”

Giving the snail a soft break from your scowl, you elected to smile at it. At doing such, Doflamingo felt his breath hitch at the vision gifted to him: a marine he adored covered in cum over their face while smiling in appreciation.

Doflamingo was absolutely going to use this footage to madturbate to in private. If not simply the entire visage of you stripping bare and crawling to him, just your smile while coated in a glaze of his own release.

Clicking off the snail, he placed it to try the side and gently tapped the wooden surface twice while gesturing down to you.

“Up on the desk, marine,” Doflamingo nodded, again tapping in solidarity to his verbal order, “I'm not some barbarian that's going to cum on you and dismiss you immediately thereafter.”

Shooting him a puzzled expression, you slowly drew yourself towards the desk. Hoisting yourself backwards onto it, you gripped the desk and gazed up at him with curiosity. To your mind, you felt that was enough humiliation to sate a regular person.

Donquixote Doflamingo, however, was not a regular person.

“I'm going to make you cum with my cum still dripping from your face,” He chuckled down at you, turning the snail shell towards your cum-soaked body and flicking the switch back on to the priorly abused little beast, “Then I'll clean you up and send you off.”

“What-?” you protested, feeling small as he pressed his large hands over your abdomen and demonstrating how far the span of his fingers lingered on your stomach.

“You heard me, my little marine,” he coaxed out of you, leaning forward and beginning to simulate your body with fingers of his right hand while holding you steady with his left, “And smile for the Den-Den when I make you cum, little one.”

You slowly coaxed your head to gaze into the face of the Den-Den snail, apologising to the poor critter the longer Doflamingo toyed with you. Just as you made to protest his suggestion, his tongue licked a clean stripe over your sensitive crotch and sneered possessively at you.

“I'm gonna have your ecstasy printed and framed on my desk,” he admitted, pinning you completely in his grip and drawing your hips over his shoulders.

“Say ‘cheese’.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶Happy Birthday to Me 🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

#one piece #x reader #Doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #doffy #doflamingo x reader #2024 birthday event #2024 birthday party #one piece smut #doflamingo smut #x gn!reader

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astrogossipp · 10 months ago

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sun notes. 🍊

Disclaimer. these observations do not have to resonate with everyone and everything, all expressed in this post is based on personal experience and research.

masterlist🌻

𝒜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 : Individuals with an Aries sun sign are spontaneous and energetic, known for their honesty and straightforwardness. They're natural leaders who thrive on adventure and embrace challenges with enthusiasm. Ruled by Mars, they can be fiery and impatient at times, especially with people who don't match their energetic vibe. Yet their determination and go-getter attitude make them charismatic. However, their impulsivity and assertiveness may sometimes overshadow empathy, leading to difficulties in listening to others. Overall, Aries folks are spirited leaders who are ready for action and adventure!

𝒯𝒶𝓊𝓇𝓊𝓈 : Taurus sun individuals value security and pleasure in life. They work hard to achieve their goals, and their strong attachment to tradition makes them feel secure. Taurus folks are dependable and determined, always seeing their goals through. They are patient, practical, and good with finances, which helps them build a stable life. However, their stubbornness and laziness can make them resistant to change and cause them to miss out on new opportunities. I mean they are represented by the bull and once a bull dig in its heals it is quite hard to sway them. They also have a tendency to be possessive due to their attachment to material possessions. Overall, Taurus individuals are known for their patience, practicality, and ability to build stable lives.

𝒢𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒾 : Gemini Suns are like a two-sided coin, always switching between their positive and challenging traits. They're sociable, chatty, and quick-witted. They make friends easily and always have a clever solution. However, they can be scatterbrained, easily bored, and prone to gossip. Commitment and focus can be a struggle for them, and their duality can be both a blessing and a curse in relationships. Gemini Suns are never boring, have many hobbies and interests, and can navigate new situations easily. But they also have a restless nature and need mental stimulation to avoid getting bored. Overall, they bring excitement and variety, ensuring there's never a dull moment when they're around.

𝒞𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇 : Individuals with a Sun in Cancer are nurturing, empathetic, and deeply loyal, with a strong love for family. They possess intuition and emotional depth, making them great listeners and creative individuals. However, they can be sensitive and prone to mood swings, sometimes retreating into their shell in the face of conflict. Their strong attachment to family can lead to overprotectiveness and difficulties in communication. Despite their challenges, Cancer Suns bring warmth and loyalty to relationships, valuing safety and security while also needing emotional space.

𝐿𝑒𝑜 : Individuals with a Sun in Leo are charismatic and confident, often excelling in leadership roles and the performing arts. They have a natural magnetism that draws people to them, but they can also be perceived as self-centered due to their need for attention and admiration. While they enjoy the spotlight, they are also hardworking and humble. They are motivated by affection and are attracted to the finer things in life, though they may have lazy days. Finding a balance between their desire for recognition and consideration for others' feelings is a continual challenge for them.

𝒱𝒾𝓇𝑔𝑜 : People with a Virgo Sun are detail-oriented perfectionists who are incredibly organized and practical. They have sharp minds and are excellent problem solvers and analytical thinkers. They pay attention to the nitty-gritty and are superb at any task that requires precision. However, their quest for perfection can sometimes make them a bit too critical, not just of themselves but of others too. Striking a balance between their high standards and a more relaxed approach to life is their lifelong challenge.

𝐿𝒾𝒷𝓇𝒶 : People with Libra sun signs value balance, equality, and harmony. They are skilled at seeing both sides of a situation and have a sense of justice. They are charming, have a great sense of style, and love art and beauty. However, their indecisiveness can cause issues, and they may struggle with putting their own needs before others. Libras may also come off as fake to some people. Despite this, Libra sun signs are sociable individuals who avoid conflict and prioritize fairness. Overall, Libras seek to maintain civility and sophistication in their interactions.

𝒮𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓅𝒾𝑜 : Scorpio suns are intense and have strong willpower. They know what they want and when to get it. They're not afraid of confrontation and have the gift to heal and transform. They have a magnetic vibe that draws people to them and are fiercely loyal. They're like detectives in their own lives, digging deep to uncover hidden truths. Their intensity can be intimidating and they sometimes have trust issues. They hide things and rarely invite people over.

𝒞𝒶𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓃 : Capricorn suns are realistic and grounded individuals who enjoy the simple things in life. They value tradition and stability and may be attracted to hard-earned luxuries. Capricorns are dependable and witty, with a mastery of sarcasm. They are ultimate goal-setters and hardworking individuals who climb the career ladder with determination. Although they can come off as too serious and workaholic, they are reliable friends and partners who prioritize their work over anything else. They struggle with letting loose and talking about their feelings.

𝒮𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓉𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓊𝓈 : Sagittarius suns are adventurous individuals who love exploration and expanding their horizons. They are enthusiastic, optimistic, and always eager to learn something new. They have a great sense of humor and can lift spirits, but can also be restless and blunt with their honesty. Commitment can be tricky for them as they value freedom. They prefer to do what they love and can seem a little irresponsible at times. They are cheerful, friendly, and easygoing, and getting along with others comes effortlessly to them. The need for escape and freedom can make them appear irresponsible at times.

𝒜𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓊𝓈 : Aquarius suns are unique and free-spirited individuals who are innovative thinkers and love challenging the norm with their progressive ideas. They value their independence and are accepting of others' quirks. Sometimes, they can appear aloof or emotionally detached. However, their idealism runs strong, and they are witty and intellectual individuals who cherish their individuality.

𝒫𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓈 : Individuals with a Pisces sun sign are depicted as dreamers with deep compassion and empathy. They are highly creative and sensitive, often channeling their creativity into artistic pursuits. However, their sensitivity can lead to feeling overwhelmed and difficulty setting boundaries. They are open-minded and understanding, but may struggle with practical matters and traditional goals. Overall, they possess a deep feeling for humanity and compassion, although they themselves may often feel misunderstood.

this post was created by @astrogossipp on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.

#astroblr #astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #sun in sign #sun in aries #sun in taurus #sun in gemini #sun in cancer #sun in leo #sun in virgo #sun in libra #sun in scorpio #sun in aquarius #sun in capricorn #sun in pisces #sun in sagittarius

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gretavanlace · 2 months ago

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Sleeping Beauty

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual contact, language, somnophilia (nothing drastic), subby jake, etc.

In response to this ask. I loved it so much and I’m terribly sorry for your wait, lovely anon. I hope you’ll forgive me ❤️

Jake should leave you in peace, and he knows it.

He’s melted into you twice already tonight, gently working you into a quiet euphoria…nails stinging into his back, soft moans and delicate sighs a song against the shell of his ear.

Yes, he knows he ought to let you rest - and don’t you sound so pretty resting? With your rhythmic breaths and gentle hint of a snore?

He should, but he won’t. Can’t.

You’re too warm, skin like satin bared to his hungry, wandering touch. Your hair, freshly washed and smelling of perfumed fruit. Your shoulder, of the loveliness that is so innately you.

If he could render it down, that intoxicating scent, he would inject it into his veins like an addict…let you swim inside him until he was buried under and lost. Comfortably numb.

Your thigh twitches. Just a blip of a movement, but it makes him smile. What is his girl dreaming about?

His grip has pulled you nearer now, tucked in close - a little spoon cradled safely in his love. His fingers, tender, yet insistent, kneading at the swell of your breasts, sweeping across your nipples, feather-light, until they begin to respond to him.

He wants them in his mouth, under his tongue, but he doesn’t want to disturb you any further than he already has, so this will do just fine.

A slight arch in your back tugs a tiny grin to life upon his lips, he wonders if his touch has made its way into whatever dreamworld you happen to be floating through. Do you search for him even while stumbling through strange and unfamiliar terrains?

He would like to think you do. He dreams of you more often than not.

Your nipples are drawn up tightly now, pebbled and peaked, as you press forward again, almost imperceptibly.

But on you slumber. His very own sleeping beauty.

With a slow pinch, he allows himself a bit more boldness. Perhaps, as he gives way to his need, he cares a little less about your rest.

All hope is lost when an airy sigh slips off your pretty tongue, and his hands begin traveling in languid earnest. Squeezing and tugging and pressing as his hips rock into you just barely.

He whispers your name as his mouth travels along your neck, and then groans into the crook of it when your hand reaches back, searching to bury into his tangled waves.

You hum a breathy, “Hi, baby,” into the night, eyes still closed.

”Hello, sleeping beauty,” he answers with a dreamy simper coloring his tone. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You sure about that?” Even with your toes still dipped into the ocean of drowsiness you can’t help but quietly tease him.

”You just feel so good,” he sounds like he is positively aching for you, and that’s because he is. He always is.

His tongue laps lightly over your shoulder just before his teeth find purchase, sinking in with a slow suck that brings a blushing bruise to life.

Admiring it in the moonlight, a lazy, satisfied warmth fills his chest, “Looks pretty on you, my love.”

Nose nuzzling into your tousled locks, he draws in a lungful of you, pressing your breasts together and running the pad of his thumb down the seam they create.

He’s imagining that perfect place, slick with sweat, and his cock - hard and desperate, sliding back and forth, pillowed and snug. How soft you would feel, how warm, how fucking perfect, how you might lick at the tip each time it slipped upwards to say hello.

”I really did want to let you sleep,” His words ghost over the shell of your ear and you long for him to whisper to you this way forever. “You snore, you know?”

The quietest giggle, hardly a sound at all, escapes you, “I don’t snore, Jacob Thomas, stop making things up.”

”Yes, you do,” it’s a sing-song argument, still but a whisper. “It’s adorable. And endearing. I like it.”

Confession too innocent for the way he’s making love to your breasts with his talented hands, you roll to face him…his arms wrapped around you all the while.

“Hi, liar,” you smile once you’re nose to nose.

“M’not a liar,” his voice is gravelly, and he’s a little thirsty with sleep, but not enough to leave your side in search of a glass of water. “You do snore. But it sounds dainty, and sweet. Everything you do is pretty.”

Your cheeks warm, ever the shy one under the spotlight of a compliment. Instead of enduring more - no matter how you secretly treasure them, you guide his mouth downward with a gentle grip fisted in his hair.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he nuzzles against you like a sleek and stunning house cat, and then curls the tip of his tongue over your nipple…sucking the bead of it into his kiss for just a moment. “Is this what you want?”

”I think this is what you want.” The challenge you’d hoped for in your tone drifts off into a shivering sigh when he nips at you.

“I do.” He nods, licking and lapping his tongue over them, suckling and biting. “My pretty girls…my exquisite, pretty girls.”

“Exquisite?” You smile, eyes drifting closed. He responds with a soft sound of confirmation, but can’t be bothered to stop.

A particularly nice flick of his tongue drags a shaky moan from your lungs and he hums right along with you, blissfully. “Feel good?”

”Really good,” your fist tightens in his hair, but your touch remains gentle in this languid and lazy moment. “Do it again?”

You offer it up as a question, which seems absurd to him…as if he would ever deny you. As if you don’t own him completely. As if you hadn’t stolen his heart the moment he laid eyes on you.

He does it again for you, because of course he does, and then again and again, until you’re pressing closer into him and whining so timidly it makes his heart ache and his cock throb.

It twitches against your thigh, hard and flushed hot, sweeping against your skin like velvet. You close your eyes and picture it resting between your bodies, so thick, and thrumming with his frantic pulse, cashmere skin stretched taught with his want, and all for you.

You suddenly need it more than you could ever put into words. Great scholars and poets alike couldn’t begin to describe your ache for him.

You burn and your stomach twists, somersaulting over itself for Jake. For everything he is. For everything he ever will or won’t be.

”Can I touch it?” You whisper, peppering kisses into his bed head as he contentedly licks and sucks away at you, kneading at the soft swell of your breasts carefully. Babying them as though he is tragically in love…and he is. God, how he loves them.

In lieu of tearing his mouth away to respond, he backs his hips away from you just far enough to allow your hand to slip down and wrap around the root of his cock.

You find him fiery to the touch and so hard as a breath huffs out of his nose with a palpable fever.

Thumbing over his head, you find it soaked and swollen as you press into the slit gingerly, just the way he likes. “Your cock is so wet, baby…” you’re trying to tease him, but the words tremble, sounding as needy as you feel, “So hard.”

Thick and pulsing, he strains and flexes in your grip, and then there are those beautiful words. Words no more than a whimper that is bordering upon shy, “Make me cum…”

”Yeah?” Your hand, slick with his need, begins a slow journey up and down the length of him, twisting off at the head before sliding back down. “Does Jakey need it with my tits in his mouth?”

A muffled ‘fuck’ is buried against you as he sucks harder with a nod.

“Are you sore?” He knows he’s already fucked you blind tonight, and he’d rather die than hurt you.

And maybe you are sore, but not enough to not want this, so you offer a soft ‘no’ and then there are his fingers, nudging between your thighs, slipping inside of you, curling and beckoning like a beacon into your favorite spot.

”Goddamn,” he groans, teeth clenched into the tip of your breast, “You’re so warm inside…pretty little pussy opens right up for me. Faster, sweetheart.”

He goes right back to making love to your tits with his gorgeous mouth as your tightened fist flies rapidly over his cock. Squeezing at the head, thumb paying close attention to his favorite spot.

Rolling into his touch, your clit, swollen and soaked, presses flush against the heel of his palm, and it earns a groan of lust-drenched gratitude from somewhere deep in his chest, “That’s my girl, fucking use me.”

Jerking wildly into your palm, he finally gives up and rests his cheek against your chest, panting into your glistening skin.

“Just like that,” he’s thrusting in time with you now, hunting down his release fervently “Fuck, please, just like that.”

”Come on, baby,” you coax quietly, kissing over the crown of his head, gentle demand falling hushed into his tangles, “Cum for me.”

Further into your breasts his face presses as his fingers fuck you closer and closer to the edge, “You, too, sweetheart. Give it to me… I need you to— fuck, please, please…”

The soft pads of his fingers are circling inside you like he sculpted your body with his very own hands. He knows every inch of you. Where to touch, Where to press and tease. Where to pinch and smack and bite when you ask for it to hurt a little.

But when he leans into a touch of submission, as he is now? That lights you up with a frenzied, crazed fire that only he can extinguish.

He feels you tightening, strangling his fingers so forcefully he absently wonders how he ever fits his cock inside the heaven that lives between your thighs, “That’s it…” his face is shoved between your breasts, rendering his praise muffled, “That’s my fucking girl. C’mon, you just relax and let me make you cum. Let me, sweetheart,” he’s babbling now, repeating himself, whining, betraying how close he is, “just wanna make you feel good, let me get you off, just— let me, come on, baby, please…”

Like some sort of twisted, subby bully, he’s shoving you closer and closer, until, with a wild sob of his name, you let go, spilling into his palm as he, in turn, spills over your fist.

A wandering stream of expletives tumbles off of his warm, pink tongue as he sucks and mouths at your overheated skin…fingers tucked up into that lovely place inside you until you can stand it no longer.

“It’s too much, Jake…” your voice is a mirage of itself, “too much.”

With a sound that says he’s sad to leave, he slips out of your fluttering grip, and then shudders with a gentle, sleepy laugh when you squeeze and tug at his softening, sensitive cock. “You’re an evil woman.”

”But I’m your evil woman.” You counter, pulling away, if only to lick at the milky white pearl of him that is rolling down your wrist.

”Yes,” he nods, watching in the darkness with rapt attention, “You’re mine.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @sarakay-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @theweightofjake @joshsmama @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama @alwaysonthemend @moralmorbid @welllauragvf

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #fanfic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiskza #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake greta van fleet #jake gvf

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celestialtarot11 · 7 months ago

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Astrology Observations 🤍✨

Hi friends! Welcome back to another post 💅🏻 today we’ll be looking at astro observations! Please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow ✨

Aries + Taurus pairing as friends/couple are the show stoppers. They draw attention wherever they go, there’s so much fire between them. Although Taurus is an Earth sign, Taurus does enjoy the finer things in life and passion! Aries helps to bring the heat in the connection and the two have a lot in common. Aries is headstrong, Taurus is as well. Both are self starters and independent. Both know what they want (taurus is a fixed sign) and both know what it takes to create + sustain it.

Aquarius sun experienced being the quiet one in group settings, especially if they were with people they didn’t necessarily understand or get along with. Its not that they aren’t smart, or capable of human interaction. They’re actually great at it, they just preserve their energy for better people/interactions.

Gemini’s love to story tell and embellish their stories! They love adding jokes, flare, and drama to their stories. They’re a bit like Leo-great at storytelling and communicating! Both Leo and Gemini love to entertain 🤍✨

Transits in your 4th house-family will require your attention more, and specifically the Mother could be around a lot more. Physically, emotionally and mentally even if you may not have a great connection. She may try to wiggle her way in your life during these 4th house transits. If you work with ancestors, they will be sending you dreams and messages day to day even more than usual. Expect the things that you need to liberate yourself from will come up in dreams, or day to day. Dreaming of your childhood for example can be triggering to some, whether the dream was good or bad.

Sagittarius are often quiet but have a lot to say when in a proper group setting. They think a lot of the world around them, and I notice they like to be in situations where they can mansplain 🤣 but offering advice and mediating conversations is their specialty. They’re blunt, honest, and get to the point.

Leo women often walk with a lot of respect, flare and spirit. Their head is held high.

Cancer women love going out and love staying home! They have their homebody moments too 💅🏻 cancers love a good time! And are not stuck in their shell as ya’ll may think

Cancer women may also be the type to have fairy tattoos, or tattoos that are delicate. They have tattoos that have a whimsical charm to them, even if it may be considered “dark.” There is an ethereal vibe to it!

Virgo women love planning, decorating and getting family together! Or who they consider family. They love setting the mood, setting the atmosphere, environment. They would be great party planners/wedding planners!

Pisces women may be into cars 👀

Scorpio moon women may get into nursing at some point or considered studying that!

Gemini women may love doing their own nails, and being proud of their art! They love to show off anything that expresses their skill.

Gemini Venus women want to speak different languages but may get frustrated at the effort required 😂 as a gemini venus myself yes

Capricorn moon women may enjoy having a minimalistic setup in their room, colors that are light and simple, but with a dash of darkness or vivid color! They love creating balance in their room and have an eye for intensity through detail

Leo rising commands all the attention in the room for themselves. But I’ve noticed if a Leo rising is not feeling confident in themselves, they can come across as arrogant, and self absorbed. It’s because part of them needs their own attention and space, but the native isn’t realizing that. Or the native doesn’t know how to meet their needs.

Thank you all for being here! I really appreciate it 🥹💗 Please enjoy the little observations I put together! Feel free to like comment and reblog ✨

Paid Readings 💗✨

#astrology community #devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #astro posts #astrology notes #astro notes #astro observations #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick one #pick a card romance #pick a card

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alwaysoutofpaper · 3 months ago

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the livestock of haek (top) and haen'oi (bottom), found in and around the landmass/island of Tunib'sau

wanted to draw up some creatures because I haven't created much hae planet fauna. ramblings below the cut, but it's a lot. all you really need to know is all of these animals can be eaten :)

uli'ni are highly social, omnivorous pack hunters (or ambush predators in small numbers), used for pest control by haek. a village can have a near 1:3 ratio of uli'ni to haek, with the pack usually belonging to a single family, or being cared for communally in some cases. bright, soft coats are sought after by haek wanting a pet. there has been a trend of uli'ni being imported into the city as an exotic pet - mainland uli'ni are a lot nastier.

tade are like truffle pigs. they can sniff out root plants from under dirt and snow, so they are critical for farmers when poor weather conditions would normally make harvests miserable. they are usually eaten along with the plants they help harvest. their "wool" is used for bed, bedding, clothes, and other textile things that are otherwise difficult to create with limited fibers. most shed their coats seasonally, but a mainland variety is bred to grow them continuously like sheep.

rudon are the fastest growing, hardest to handle source of protein a haek could ask for. they burrow under the snow, and further into the ground when it isn't covered. raising them is more difficult than hunting them in the wild, but some haek still try, creating stone-lined pits they will fill with dirt to keep rudon contained. they can wreak havoc on any plantlife if left unchecked, so they are rarely raised in the same village as a root plant farm. their fatty tails are used for tallow, which can be sold at high prices or traded for goods if transportation is possible and a surplus is available.

ta'fer is essentially a much meaner lobster. they can pinch, bite, and smack someone around with their tail. they are aggressive to anything that isn't a ta'fer, and evasive when they feel threatened, which makes them difficult to handle without immense caution. the meat is worth it to most haen'oi, though, and just the act of raising them garners a whole lot of respect.

bibbits are some of the most abundant fish (calling them that cus they look like that) in the oceans, found all over the world with different variations. the bibbits found around Tunib'sau are very boney, but those bones are soft and thin, not removed unless necessary (like for baby haek, it could be a choking hazard - baby haen-oi don't have this problem). bibbits are usually smoked and eaten whole for haek, or eaten raw in the water by haen-oi. they are very flavorful, but don't keep well.

le'bul, or the "walking jewel", is a six-limbed nautilus-like critter. they have tentacle-lined arms like octopus, but lack the chromatophores of the same species. they instead rely on their shells for defense and camouflage, evolved to mimic different types of coral, depending on the region they're in. the le'bul shown above grows a shell resembling coral found almost exclusively in underwater caves. tracking them down is a difficult task, but they can be lured out with bibbits, so actually catching them is pretty simple. their shells are often used as decoration or storage depending mostly on the condition of it after the rest of the body is removed.

lastly, corin is basically just a really big tilapia. high in protein, low in fat. their meat is white and not the most flavorful, but it keeps well and their bones are good for making broth. there are much better, tastier fish out there, but these are the easiest for haen'oi to herd, hunt and trade, so it is the most popular option. they're the closest thing to a domestic fish you can get in those waters. some even let you pet them :)

#uli'ni don't look like predators but i dont care. i love them and they would bite my fingers off.#my art #digital art #original species #spec bio #spec evo #worldbuilding #hae world #paper aliens

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wutheringcaterpillar · 4 months ago

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Hii, i was wondering if you could write a Thomas catching the reader smoking (sister or whatever you prefer) and getting scolded because of the damage that Thomas has experienced firsthand thanks to his addiction because come on, that man shouldn't even be able to climb a ladder without being exhausted lol. Btw love ur writing 💖💌

I thought the idea of this was so cute! I made this into a short little drabble, hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: smoking,

Pairing tommy x sister!reader, siblings bickering

Tommy stood up from his chair outside, tossing the money onto the center of the glass and flailing his arms up in defeat while Arthur hollored in victory, pulling the one thousand pounds his way.

Tossing his feet up on the table, Arthur lit himself a cigarette while the other Shelby brothers and Johnny doggs called it a night, having lost enough money.

Arthur tried to convince Tommy to stay and hang out maybe do a line or two but Tommy waved him off, heading back toward the house.

When he was about to round the corner, he noticed you were leaning against the wooden ladder that was stood up right against the house with one of your preppy friends Tommy never cared for. He was nearly in disbelief seeing the tube of cancer between your lips, laughing and giggling overhearing some talk about a celebrity that was your new found love interest.

"Fuckin' hell." He mumbled to himself, thinking about how he thought you'd been smart enough to take a hint that smoking wasn't good for you, nor anyone for that matter but apparently his sister was more ill informed than he imagined.

"Eh!" Hearing Tommy's voice roar through the quiet midnight air, you tossed the cigarette onto the ground, your friend Isabelle stomping on it aggressively before trying to kick it away.

Hurriedly she reached into her pocket, pinching a piece of gum out and handing it to you. Tommy nodded your friend off, mentioning how she had a house of her own just down the street, leaving you alone with Tommy.

"What the fuck are you doing? You don't smoke?" No, no, Tommy surely wasn't going to guilt trip with you with how he smokes nearly two packs a day if not more.

"What's the big deal! You smoke all the time, that's a little hypocritical don't you think?" Isabelle yelled back after you goodbye and good luck, forcing to Tommy to draw your attention back to him before before Isabelle was running back over here in her annoying stature.

"So what eh? If you friends said you should jump off a bridge because they did would you?"

"Well I might if it will get me away from your constant nagging. Besides my friends aren't stupid like yours." Tommy scoffed, grabbing at your bag, tussling with you in a tug of war until he ripped the accessory from your clutch, dumping the items out on the lawn to reveal not only one but two packs of cigarettes. Actually the longer he stared at it, the more he noticed some of these were the ones he rolled himself, sticking out like a sore them in the porch light.

"You little thief! I can barely walk up me own fuckin' stairs, y/n." His blue eyes shined with utter disappointment and disapproval, making you cower, eye scanning anywhere but him as if that would get you out of the situation.

His eyes bore into your skull hard enough that if he had lasers they would shoot right through you irresponsible, per-petulant head.

"That doesn't stop you now does it?" You crossed your arms, finally quipping back earning a roll of the eyes from Tommy. Couldn't you understand that wasn't the point. Through Tommy's hard shell he was always soft for his baby sister and just wanted you to live a long prosperous life, not make irrational, selfish decisions as he often did himself.

Picking up the cigarettes, he stuffed them inside his jacket pocket, before you sighed and both leaned down to pick up the rest of your belongings.

"I'm just looking out for you y'know. One of us Shelby's has to outlive 50. What do you say we go inside eh? Don't need you getting a cold." Looking up at the sky, storm clouds were roaming in but you knew better this was just an excuse to get off the topic of conversation. If anything you'd just have to be more secretive with where your smoking at from now on.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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bodyelectr1c · 7 months ago

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hiii i have a request can u do austin teasing reader during events pls?

tease

reader has enough of austin’s relentless teasing

a little bit of plot, but majority is just filthy

warnings: smut, teasing, semi public, sort of sub austin? oral (m+f receiving), bathroom ‘sex,’ whiny austin, overstim. probably more but idk

thank you SO much for the request!! i hope i did it justice, but if i didn’t, feel free to ask again, and delve into the idea more, or any other requests y’all have, i’ll try to fulfill them. anyways, enjoy!

you’d been used to austin testing the limits at events; finding a darker corner to quickly paw at your boobs, or subtly brush past you and angle his hips forward in the slightest, pressing his clothed length against whatever you’d been dressed in that night; it was his way of telling you how pretty you looked, and how desperate he was to fuck you into the mattress as soon you you both got home.

the idea of being caught turned him on, without a doubt- but he knew better than to take any of his teasing to another level. his career was unimaginably important to him; it wasn’t up for compromise, and he took pride in the work he accomplished, always feeling a ripple of unabashed confidence whenever complimented by someone- especially you, on his efforts and devotion to the characters he plays,

little did you know how much the praise made him want to fuck you dumb, bury himself deep in you and beg you to tell him how good he was at it. you only took notice of this after he came almost instantly after you somehow thought to bring up a recent award show nomination of his during sex, whining about how you were so proud to have a “famous boyfriend who fucks me so good,” squirming as he drilled your pussy into the mattress.

this made you extra sure to praise him as often as you could in the days leading up to the award show. it boosted his ego in a filthy way, and you relished in the fact that your words had such an impact on him

when the day of the award show finally arrived, and you’d both made your way through a myriad of cameras and interviewers on the red carpet showering austin with compliments of the work on his nominated role. these visibly improved austin’s already ‘over the moon’ mood for the night, and they accompanied the dirty remarks you’d been purposefully making in the last few days, most recently whilst bouncing on his dick babbling about how you were “taking the cock of a hollywood star,” as his eyes rolled back in his head.

you both found yourselves sat in a relatively close proximity to the stage, the table in front of you laden with a dark cloth, which austin immediately took advantage of, putting his hand to work tracing abstract patterns on your thighs through the slit in your sleek dress. you were used to this, and he never took it farther than this, but he was relentlessly needy with all the commendation that had been thrown his way thus far in the night.

in an attempt at subtlety, he brought his hand up from its prior position, and interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a pleading look before squeezing your hand gently to communicate his sexual desperation to you:

“please baby- please, i need it so bad,”

he whispered against the shell of your ear. you’d decided to leave him almost writhing, not because it turned you on (which it did,) but because you knew how loud he could be, and at this point, after the array of compliments he’d gotten, even touching his cock over his clothes would exude whines and groans too loud to not draw attention to you two.

after sensing that you were not going to comply, he let out a barely audible whine, before resuming his previous task, this time with more vigour, his fingers hastily made their way up your leg and circled your inner thigh. you gave him a disapproving look, but didn’t have the self control to stop him. somehow, nobody had noticed yet, but you were sure your dress looked bunched at the mid riff as he lifted it higher tasking himself with pleasing you, maybe as a reward for complying and feeding into to his recently anointed cockiness.

his fingers pushed past your already scarce underwear, moving it to the side before working his fingers around in painfully slow circles, pushing deeper into your folds progressively.

“austin, stop- fuck, we’re gonna get caught,” you feigned confidence, failing and whimpering slightly as you leaned in his direction.

he only leaned in closer, breath hot against your skin: “can’t help it baby, you’re driving me crazy.”

as he continued his pursuit, it became clear that you were finding it harder and harder to control yourself, letting out occasional hums of pleasure and bringing your hand up to your mouth in a somewhat swift motion to stifle any escaping moans.

to allow himself to get deeper inside you, austin shuffled his chair closer to yours before planting a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, which, to anyone around you, would look like a quick act of endearment. frankly- having a ‘dirty little secret’ turned you on more than you’d like to admit.

his fingers stilled when another person you were too occupied to identify walked up to the your table, commending austin for his hard work, reaching out to shake his left hand all while his right hand remained still on your thigh, glossy with your slick

“thank you,” austin replied with a laugh, voice steady despite the situation unfolding below the tablecloth. “i really appreciate it.”

after they’d walked away, you’d decided you’d had enough teasing and abruptly got up, leaving austin’s hand slapping softly against his clothed leg as he looked up at you, big blue eyes laced with confusion and clouded with lust. he didn’t bother questioning as you mindlessly dragged him to the closest bathroom, figuring you both had enough time before anyone noticed you were gone

“baby, you look so divine i can’t keep my hands off you,” -austin practically melted against your body as he closed the door behind you both, locking it swiftly. he raked your dress up, making sure your skin was always touching in one way or another, hands desperately stroking up and down your thighs. he felt breathless without your touch, and you couldn’t bear to see him upset, drifting your hands up to messily tangle in his hair (his stylist would be sure to write you a personal death threat later)

he panted as he placed sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over your exposed neck. you finally gave him some friction.”i need you so bad baby, please touch me- please.”

untangling one of your hands from his hair, you outlined his prominent bulge through his pants. he stilled.

“fuck- fuck, please baby i need your mouth so bad- fuck!” austin whined, writhing for your touch, your warm mouth, your approval. he was too fucking far gone to narrow it down to one, he just knew he needed every single part of you.

you’d die before denying him, and you slid your hands down his now tight pants as you lowered yourself to the cold tile floor on your knees, before palming him, eliciting a string of praise from a very desperate austin, who, on a whim, grabbed your hand and pushed it harder onto his cock, throbbing with need.

“baby, i know you need it bad, but you gotta be patient,” you reassured him, coaxing him through the incessant yearning his hardness had left him with by finally undoing his dress pants and sliding them down enough to pull out his leaking cock. austin brought his hand to your cheek and cupped your face gently, looking at you with a filthy mix of adoration and lustful desire, eyebrows quirking up softly as your hand brushed against his length.

“i need you now, please pretty girl,”

you wasted no more time, taking his tip, red and leaking with anticipation, into your mouth. you gave him flat tongued licks from the thick shaft to the head as he groaned deeply, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure. it was fucking lewd honestly, and you knew you didn’t have much time before someone came knocking at the door of the small bathroom.

“fuck baby, you’re s’ good, ‘s like you were made for me, your mouth feels s’ good” he was drunk on arousal, words slurring as he babbled barely coherent praises. his fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your head as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length, the tip red and weeping with precum. the sensation was fucking overwhelming to him, and he bucked his hips forward slightly, unable to control himself.

“god- fuck, yes,” austin let out a breathy groan, his voice a low rumble. “just like that, baby. you’re so perfect, s’ good for me.”

you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him harder, feeling his cock twitch against your tongue. the obscenity exuded from the mix of his desperate whines and groans mixed with the gagging and wet noises coming from you bobbing on his thick cock only brought him closer. you could tell, and you wanted nothing more than to push him over the edge, to make him come undone right there, right then. you moved faster, taking him as deep as you could, your efforts accompanied by austin pushing your head farther on his cock until he hit the back of your throat, your nose nestled in the patch of hair above his shaft.

"please, don't stop," austin whined, his voice high-pitched and desperate. “i need it so bad. pleasepleaseplease.”

you didn't let up, your pace relentless as you took him deeper, faster. his moans turned into almost pitiful whimpers, each sound making you more determined to make him cum. you could feel his cock throbbing against your tongue, the tension building in his body. austin’s breathing grew ragged, his grip on your hair tightening. “i’m gonna cum, baby. fuck, i’m gonna cum.” with a final, deep thrust and a particularly breathy groan, he spilled into your mouth, his moans filling the small bathroom. you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, before pulling back and looking up at him with a satisfied smile.

before you could process, austin grabbed you by your wrists and gently pulled you up to your feet with a gentle kiss, pupils dilated and eyes dark with lust and genuine adoration for you. “need to make you feel good, please, you’ve been driving me crazy all night, baby” he whispered against your lips, his hands caressing your body. “wanna make you cum,” he panted against you, hot breath fanning across your skin making you shiver in anticipation.

after lifting your dress with one of his hands, he dropped to his knees wordlessly, warm breath ghosting over your already dripping core, sending shivers up your spine. your panties were fucking soaked, and he audibly groaned at the sight before him, basking in the glory of making you so wet without even touching you. he mouthed sweet kisses on your thighs, sucking and biting marks onto your skin as he used his other hand to tug at the sheer waistband of your underwear bringing it down, prompting you to step out of it. he effortlessly tucked your panties into the pocket of his dress pants after you’d stepped out them, making you moan out of just how dirty this whole situation was.

“austin, please, i need you baby, please touch me.” you whined, desperate to chase your release after seeing how good you’d made him feel.

without hesitation he latched onto you, his tongue moving with loving precision. you gasped, your hands flying to his already tousled hair, trying to keep yourself upright as waves of pleasure washed over you. his tongue worked it’s filthy magic, alternating between gentle flicks at your clit and slow, deep movements inside you. you were a babbling mess, your knees weak as you practically rode his face, his stubble brushing against your thighs as you clamped your legs around his head as much as the position allowed you. he relished in your moans, drinking up everything you were giving him- metaphorically and physically. the obscene noises coming from you, and his tongue swirling around your soaked clit were enough to make him insanely hard again. his hands help your hips gently but firmly to keep you steady, determined to make you cum.

“austin, fuck- i’m gonna cum” you tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a cry of pleasure as your orgasm swept through you, your body shuddering with the intensity of it. every muscle in your body was tense, hands anchoring themselves in his hair in an attempt at staying upright. your breathing became progressively laboured, and loud- ragged, each inhale and exhale a struggle as you tried to maintain some semblance of control. he made it impossible. his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs occasionally, attempting to ground you the way he held you was almost reverent, as if he was worshipping you, savouring the way your body responded to him. as he continued, he hummed softly against you, vibrations adding another layer to the already intense sensation. his eyes would occasionally flick up to meet yours, displaying a filthy mix of arousal and adoration. something about seeing you like this, completely undone because of him drove him fucking insane; the way your back arched, the way your head fell back, the way your breath hitched with every movement he made—it drove him wild.

your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, your body on the verge of giving out. the sensation was too much, too intense, and you could feel the edges of your orgasm building, threatening to crash over you. you tried to tell austin how close you were, but all that came out was a string of broken moans and gasps. he seemed to understand, though, tongue moving impossibly faster around your swollen bud, more insistent, as if he wanted to draw every bit of pleasure from you.

just as your body decided you couldn’t take it anymore, giving into the stimulation, he changed his technique, skilled tongue pressing flat against your clit and moving in slow, firm circles. the change in pressure and speed was your undoing. your body tensed, every nerve ending on fire, as you finally tipped over the edge. your orgasm hit you in relentless waves, crashing over you, pulling you under. you cried out against austin as your legs gave out, hands clamping around his shoulders. your whole body shuddered, convulsing with the force of it.

austin didn’t stop, didn’t let up, drawing out your pleasure, making sure you felt every second of your release. his tongue continued its assault, gentler now, easing you through the aftershocks, lapping at your clit to catch anything your body would give him. he murmured praises against your skin, voice soothing, grounding. you could feel his hands still holding you, steadying you, as your body slowly came down from its high.

as the waves of pleasure subsided, you were left trembling, weak, your body boneless and sated. austin gently kissed his way up your body, his touch tender, loving. he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and adoration, his lips glistening with your arousal.

“you taste so good baby, like fucking candy” he whispered, his voice husky, filled with affection. he kissed you hungrily, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy and sheer dirtiness of the moment almost overwhelming to you.

with a final, lingering kiss, he helped you back up to your feet, your legs still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm. “we should get back," he murmured, his voice a mix of laugher and satisfaction, a smirk lingering on his face as he chuckled at your fucked out state. “before anyone notices we're gone."

you nodded, still in the process of catching your breath, and began to straighten your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles left by austins desperate touches, and making sure you looked presentable. austin followed suit, his fingers running through his hair, fixing it as best as he could. his eyes never left you, a soft, lingering smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“you look stunning baby,” he professed softly, his voice filled with awe. “even prettier now; fucking perfect, all for me.”

he opened the bathroom door slightly, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. satisfied that no one was nearby, he took your hand languidly and led you back towards your table. the sounds of the beginning of the ceremony began to fill your ears, a stark contrast to the obscenities of the bathroom.

as you approached your table, you could see that no one had noticed your absence, the guests engrossed in the ongoing ceremony. you slipped back into your seats, austin's hand never leaving yours. he’d lost all his nerves about winning the award at this point, satisfied that no matter the outcome of the night, he’d fuck you into oblivion as soon as you both got home.

#austin butler #he won btw #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin!elvis x reader #elvis #elvis presley #elvis 2022

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