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#Ironically the skin on my face is very clear
caterpillarinacave · 8 months
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my brain is a wild place
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rafecameronssl4t · 4 months
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I need more season one rafe fics please! I love your writing!! Also, last fic was amazing! Tbh I'm not a fan of #her ( yes I'm a hater)
Midsummers || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: It was concerning stumbling across your boyfriend and JJ fighting, but what was more concerning was his comment about Kiara.
Warnings: swearing, mild fighting? if there’s anything else lmk
Word count: 1,425
A/n: my summaries are always so shit 😭 anyways…. this was so much fun to write 😭 if u want more s1 rafe lmk and send thru requests!!!
MASTERLIST
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Divider by @yoonitos
“Rafee,” you squeal, feeling his hands firmly grasp your ass, igniting a wave of pleasure that you struggle to contain. His lips trace a heated path along your neck, only intensifying the sensation and making it harder to stifle a moan. “It’s fine, no one’s coming here,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring as it mingles with your mounting desire.
A sudden knock at the door makes Rafe groan in annoyance. “What? We’re kinda busy here!” he yells out, his frustration evident. Undeterred, you press a trail of kisses along his jaw, your lips trailing down to his collarbone, trying to distract him from the interruption.
Topper and Kelce walk in making you huff in annoyance, pulling away from Rafe, who glares at their direction. “Seriously, guys?” you mutter, irritation clear in your voice. “Sorry—uh—JJ just walked in,” Topper stammers.
At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s expression darkens, and he quickly rises to his feet. “What the fuck is that pogue doing here?” he spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. Without waiting for an answer, he glances at you sharply and commands, "Stay here." With that, he storms out of the room, his frustration palpable. You watch as they leave, leaving you alone. With a huff, you get up and begin wandering around the room, trying to find something to entertain yourself.
~
Rafe and his friends race through the island club, their eyes sights set on JJ. He darts through the crowd, but they close in on him, finally cornering him in the locker room. Kelce moves swiftly, seizing JJ and locking him in a tight headlock. JJ struggles, but Kelce’s grip is ironclad. "Hold him still," Rafe commands.
Rafe smirks, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "What do you think? A 4 iron, right?" he asks his friends playfully as they all chuckle. "Keep his head still, yeah, Kelce? I'm gonna line this up." Rafe adjusts his stance, mimicking the motion of a golfer about to take a swing. JJ, despite Kelce’s suffocating grip, manages to choke out, "Very Rafe of you. Five on one?"
"If you could please stop talking. It's very disrespectful. I'm trying to hit a ball, alright?" Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and irritated as JJ continues to struggle. He gives a disapproving shake of his head. "Hey, learn your etiquette, my friend." His voice drips with condescension as he lines up his imaginary shot, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.
~
As the minutes tick by, your boredom intensifies, and you decide to defy your boyfriend's request. Leaving the room, you set off in search of Rafe. It doesn't take long before you hear his voice echoing down a hallway.
Rafe snorts derisively as he examines JJ's bruised and bloodied face. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look a lot more like your dad—" His sentence is abruptly cut off as JJ spits directly into his face.
“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling your heart rate quicken as the scene unfolds before you. "Rafe?" you call out, stepping forward. Your eyes lock onto JJ, who is trapped in Kelce's grip, his expression defiant despite his situation.
As you approach, Rafe wipes his face and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him. His grip is firm and almost possessive, a clear display of both his irritation and protectiveness. You can feel the tension radiating from his body.
"What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the room," he mutters against your head, his voice low and angry. You shrug, unable to find the words to explain your disobedience.
You glance at JJ, who despite his predicament, meets your gaze with a steely resolve. His eyes flick between you and Rafe, and for a moment, a silent communication passes between you. The air is thick with tension, a volatile mix of anger, defiance, and barely contained violence.
Rafe’s friends stand around, their faces a mix of amusement and anticipation. Kelce maintains his grip on JJ, his muscles taut with the effort of holding him still. Rafe’s irritation is palpable, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he stares down at JJ.
"Y'know, I never understood why you're dating him, Y/n," JJ says, his eyes raking over you. A scoff escapes your lips as you feel Rafe tighten his hold on you. "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tilting your head slightly in challenge.
"Well, isn't it obvious?" JJ chuckles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You need a man, but he's high off his ass every fucking day. That's not very manly, don't you think?" His words hit you hard, and your face falls. "Are you trying to get killed pogue?" Rafe growls, pushing past you to storm up to JJ.
“Rafe, it’s not worth it,” you whisper softly, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. But Rafe’s jaw is set, his muscles taut with rage. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and a man walks in. "Gentlemen!" he announces. Kelce immediately releases JJ, shoving him towards you, but Rafe moves quickly, pulling you out of the way just in time.
"Is there a problem here, guys?" The security guard scans all your faces. "Pardon me, officer," JJ quickly interjects, trying to regain control of the situation. "No, there's not an issue. I just—actually, yes. No, there is an issue."
"Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?" JJ continues, his voice trembling slightly with mock seriousness. You watch in amusement as Rafe scoffs at him.
"Blatant disrespect for private property—" JJ starts again, but Rafe cuts in "Yep," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "—I'm in violation of all kinds of shit, sir."
The security guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "But these young gentlemen..." JJ begins, reaching out to adjust Kelce's wonky bow tie, but Kelce aggressively pushes him away.
"Don't touch my shit," Kelce snaps, his tone sharp with irritation. JJ stumbles back, caught off guard. "...Uh, caught me, sir, and they're about to take me away," JJ continues, trying to regain his composure amidst the tension in the room. Your head begins to ache from the sheer amount of talking he's doing.
"And that's what you should do, escort me out of here. You got me," JJ says, extending his wrists as if offering them up for arrest, a sardonic grin playing on his lips. You all watch in amusement as he puts on a show for the security guard.
"Come on," the guard says, pulling JJ along with him. "All right. Fix that tie, son," he adds, glancing back at Kelce. JJ turns to Rafe with a smirk, "You're looking spiffy too."
"You powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ taunts, addressing Rafe and his friends before being led away. Leaving your side, Rafe hollers out, "Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue!" The words hang in the air, and your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity of his comment.
In a split second, JJ breaks free from the guard's grasp and charges towards Rafe, but Kelce is quick enough to stop him from getting any closer. "You think I'm afraid of you, bro?" JJ shouts, his voice filled with defiance as the guard yanks him away once more.
"Hey! Safe travels back to the cut," Rafe calls out with a smirk on his face, clearly unfazed by JJ's threats. "This ain't over!" JJ shouts as the guard shoves him through the door, his voice echoing down the hallway.
"Hey, hey, it was really nice seeing you again, JJ!" Rafe's voice echoes down the corridor, breaking the tense atmosphere that hangs thickly in the air. He turns, a grin playing on his lips, only to catch your unimpressed expression.
"What, baby?" he questions, his smile faltering slightly as he moves to embrace you, but you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. "The fuck was that for?" Rafe's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of your sudden reaction. The other boys shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Rafe.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, your frustration bubbling to the surface. Rafe's expression shifts from confusion to concern, his brows knitting together in worry. "What?" he responds, his voice tinged with confusion.
"Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue?" you spit out the words, your tone dripping with venom. "I said that to piss him off, I was fucking joking, wasn't I?" Rafe protests, seeking validation from his friends, who quickly nod in agreement.
"Ha. Ha. Funny joke, Rafe. It had me rolling on the floor," you retort sarcastically, your tone laced with bitterness as you push past him, the fabric of his shirt grazing your fingertips. "Y/n," Rafe starts, reaching out to you, but you cut him off with a sharp glare, your eyes flashing with anger.
"Don't fucking talk to me, dickhead," you say, your voice cold and cutting as you storm away, leaving Rafe and the boys in stunned silence.
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catalinaromanoff · 2 months
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overheated
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natasha romanoff x pyrokinetic reader
summary: reader accidentally burns natasha, which causes her to rethink their relationship and their life in general.
(there may be female pronouns scattered in here, but i am not 100% sure.)
warnings: insecurity, mentions of very very slight burn (just redness)
i rest my head on the cold kitchen countertop for a few moments, attempting to get just an ounce of relief from the heat surrounding me.
if you asked me in casual conversation i would say i don’t mind summer. it’s okay; i dont hate it. however, if you asked me on a personal level, i would say i absolutely despise summer. i hate the thought of wearing bikinis, all the bug bites i receive, but i hate the heat most of all. pyrokinetics and heat simply do not mix. ironic, isn’t it?
and so, i press my face harder into the kitchen countertop in the compound for just a bit of relief.
i was currently sitting at the kitchen island. the coolness of the marble surface did provide me with a bit of contrast to my heated skin, but it just wasn’t enough. on top of that it was agonizing listening to my teammates having the time of their lives outside in the compound’s backyard.
some were in the crystal clear water of the immensely big in-ground pool tony had installed while others played a casual game of volleyball.
how i envy them.
however, the people whom i envied the most were the couples outside able to cuddle and kiss each other. my heart breaks a little for my girlfriend when i see laura sitting on clint’s lap on one of the poolside tables knowing we could never do the same.
technically we could, but unfortunately this wasn’t the season to do so. during the winter season me and natasha could cuddle at any time and i would serve as her personal heater. the heat that would emanate from my body would be a nice contrast to the painful coldness of a new york winter.
however, when it’s already around 100 degrees and i am a pyrokinetic that sometimes freaks out and cannot control herself, that leads to accidents.
like this one.
i had banished myself to the kitchen countertop because me and natasha had tried to see if maybe my body temperature wouldn’t flare up like it always did. spoiler alert; it did. natasha had been sitting on my lap with her head in my neck. she began kissing my neck and that’s where i think things began to go downhill.
much of my pyrokinesis revolves around what i’m feeling at the current moment. once i felt natasha’s featherlight kisses on my neck i began to feel things. mostly shy. and so, i slowly began to heat up. eventually things escalated too quickly when natasha bit me. immediately my body became the temperature of the sun and natasha jumped up and away from me.
“ouch!”
i observed as she lightly rubbed her thighs trying to get at least a but of relief. just like i am now. anyway, i could do nothing but watch her knowing i caused this but couldn’t fix it.
“im-im so sorry baby. i’ll go inside. im sorry.”
i quickly get up from my place on the poolside chair, not without noticing the chair had begin to melt a little because of me. it made me feel that much worse.
natasha tried to stop me, but obviously she couldn’t do that much when i couldn’t be touched.
“y/n it’s okay, baby. i’m fine. please don’t go.”
i ignore the concerned expression in my beautiful girlfriend’s face and instead rush to the sliding door separating the big backyard from the avenger’s compound. i thank whoever left the door open in my head as i rush through and close the door behind me.
that brings me to where i am now. a tiny portion of white plastic on my hand from closing the sliding door and a big portion of embarrassment.
i continue to observe the other avengers outside and let out a deep breath.
do i really belong here?
i mean, most of the avengers out there avoid touching me. no handshakes, no hugs, no anything. i understand their fear and apprehension but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. a great deal of them were scared of me and that honestly made my heart break; i didn’t ask to be made this way, so why do i have to suffer the consequences?
the only people who really bothered in trying to get to know me and know when it’s okay to touch me are natasha, wanda, and bucky. they try to understand how my pyrokinesis works and how to prevent meltdowns (haha get it?) like this.
they’ll never truly understand though.
i see wanda talking to natasha and looking back inside at me. i realize almost immediately that she heard my thoughts. dang you, my sexy witch best friend. i see my girlfriend approach the door i had melted not more than 20 minutes ago and slide it open. she makes sure to close it behind her before she sits next to me at the kitchen island.
she looks stunning.
natasha was wearing a simple black bikini, but yet it complimented her so well. it complimented her beautifully sculpted body, her stunning scars scattered around her body, and it just looked right against her sun-kissed skin.
i wish i looked like her.
“hey, how are you feeling?”
i shrug my shoulders.
natasha’s lips form into a straight line on her face as she looks down at her hands. i take this moment to admire her gorgeous face. her cute freckles scattered across nearly every part of her face. that’s one of the things i didn’t mind about summer. nat’s freckles showed up and showed out during the summer.
i decide to speak up. “im sorry.”
nat’s head snaps up at the words of my timid apology.
“honey you have nothing to apologize for. i know that was an accident and i shouldn’t have pushed you that far.”
“no, about everything.”
natasha furrows her brows and her confusion slowly grows. she timidly inches her fingers toward my thigh. she checks my temperature to make sure she can touch me. im lukewarm. she puts her hand on my right thigh with her left hand. that gives me the courage i need to say the next words.
“im sorry for being such a bad girlfriend. i see how you look at other couples and their pda and stuff. you should just break up with me. i mean we can’t even have.. um.. sex without me freaking out and burning you. i just don’t think im lovable and im definitely holding you back from having your dream relationship. maybe you should try dating banner. i hate his guts but you’ll probably be happier with him than you’ll ever be with me.”
an uncomfortable silence fills the room. i bring my arms up on the countertop and stuff my face into them.
we both breathe in the silence for a while. i know natasha doesn’t know what say; i mean what can she say? that everything will be alright? that we’ll be able to do normal couple things one day? she would be lying to my face.
“y/n, look at me.”
i sink deeper into my seat. i feel hot tears begin to pour out of my eyes. i can no longer feel natasha’s touch on my thigh.
i let out a sob. im pathetic.
“baby, please look at me.”
i shake my head.
“fine. y/n, i love you so much. your pyrokinesis will never change that because i didn’t fall in love with your body temperature, but with your personality. you didn’t deserve what those cruel people did to you but unfortunately you cannot change your story. and sure maybe i get a twinge of sadness watching other couples, but i love our connection more than any pda or hugs or touches. i love the way you assure i feel loved without having to touch me all the time. you are more than your pyrokinesis. i will keep saying that until you get it. because it’s true; nothing will ever change that. you are worth the moon and stars to me.”
i feel tears begin to flow down my cheeks. i sit up and look at natasha. i gaze into her eyes for a few seconds but immediately look away. playing with my hands, i utter something under my breath in hopes she won’t hear me.
natasha inches her face closer to mind and kisses my tears away. she pulls back smiling and stares at me knowingly when she feels me heat up a bit.
“what was that honey? i can’t hear you.”
this time i make tiny flames from my fingertips and decide to speak up a little more.
“i said, i love you too.”
natasha smiles at me knowing i do appreciate what she has said, but i’m just too shy.
“natasha, i love you so much you don’t even know. and if i could control myself i would tell you more, but i think if i do i’ll start crying and melt this chair.”
at that natasha giggles and grabs my chin to kiss all over my face.
“heyy! you’re gonna get me riled up!”
i swat her face away. she begins to laugh and i stare at her, confused.
“babe, your face is literally as red as my hair!”
“okay, that’s not fair. you’re such a bad girlfriend.”
i roll my eyes and jump off of my chair, heading towards the sliding door to go back outside.
“you sure you wanna go back outside? if you want to we can stay inside and cool you down. i can ask tony to order us some ice-cream. fuck, we can even get you an ice bath.”
i look back at natasha and shake my head while giggling.
“that’s fine, i want you to enjoy yourself. cmon.”
i wait for my girlfriend to join me and we make our way back outside.
everything turned out fine, for today. there were still a few accidents. unfortunately that’s the reality behind being an enhanced human. we will always make mistakes and have accidents, but that’s what reminds us we are still human.
i am still human, and still lovable.
a/n: this is my first work so be kind lol!! but let me know if you guys have any requests or want me to continue this series (?). honestly this isn’t proofread, the ending was lowkey rushed, and it’s nearly 3am so if it’s dookie that’s why lol. but yea, thank you for reading if you made it this far!
word count: 1.6k
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oceanreveuse · 2 months
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‘ 𝓱𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓸 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷 — neuvillette x gn!reader ’
★ sub!neuvillette, dom!reader, canon!au, two dick!neuvi send tweet!! overstimulation, orgasm denial, handjob(s), dacryphilia, forked tongue!neuvi… pet names (baby, mon amour - my love), not proofread, pronouns not used so can be read as gn!reader!!
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‘hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.’ you remember the rhyme as clear as day, like you’d been raised with it carved into your mind. it’s chimed like a chorus on the streets of fontaine by the children, small and innocent - and adherently unaware of the world around them.
the room fills with another choked sob, whimpering into the pillows of your shared bed. the bedsheets, silk and shiny, are sodden by numerous liquids; tears, drool and if you’re kind enough to your beloved husband, cum. if only that was the circumstance, dragging both of your lithe hands up and down red tipped cocks in languid strokes. you never lose your rhythm and as much as NEUVILLETTE has always held a candle of admiration to your resilience and dexterity, by the archons he wishes you would let up for just a moment - just for him.
neuvillette can feel himself slipping away, crumbling in the palms of your hands the longer he attempts to endure your torture. his cries seem to fall on deaf ears, drowned out ironically by children innocently on the streets of the court of fontaine, outside the window as they chime happily in the downpour, “hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!”
there’s a smug look on your face, eyes glittering as you lean over the iudex’s muscular body, decorated nicely by those white hairs that almost pale in comparison to the man’s skin colour. plush lips linger by his pointed ears, breath fanning over his skin that’s warm to the touch. neuvillette has never been one for sweating but it feels like hours since you started and there’s beads glittering on his forehead and neck, threatening to run down crevices untold.
“how sweet of them, don’t you think baby?” you murmur and neuvillette chokes on a noise that gets caught in his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to swallow the lump. his whimpers are so light and airy, almost as dainty as the way the large man carries himself - as if he’s fragile porcelain.
“m-mon amour— hhnngh— p-please—” you cut off the male by capturing his lips in a searing kiss, messy when he arches his back in order to press more against him. he uses it as an escape to muffle his moans that get louder, threatening to breach the walls - and windows - of the bedroom and reach the ears of unsuspecting bystanders. you use it as a means of silencing the otherwise loud dragon, saving yourself the time of hearing his pathetic attempts at begging you for mercy.
he ruts his hips into your hands, forked tongue slivering to fight against your tongue in a hopeless battle of dominance. he wants so badly to finish, for thick ropes of white to paint his abdomen or the back of your throat but you’re relentless and he should have known this from the start. crystalline tears run rivers down flushed cheeks and sharply carved jawlines, rain battering against the windows as the citizens of fontaine call for their children, ushering them into shelter.
the chorus of rhymes end but it doesn’t stop you from filling the silence with a symphony of neuvillette’s desperate whines and delicate whimpers, his moans breathy as he pants to catch his breath. you swipe a thumb teasingly over the tip of one of his cocks, collecting treasured drops of precum and eliciting a sharp hiss from the parted lips of your husband.
your hands pick up pace, watching the way he claws at silken sheets to grasp anything - literally anything. there’s a fire in his abdomen, heavy balls tightening when he’s finally climbing those precious stairs to climax. he’s ready, he’s oh-so-ready for your praise and the soft aftercare you’ll spoil him with, that he’s very much deserved. the poised man prepares himself, rocking his hips into your fists as he chases his high, only for your hands to pull away just at the precipice. his hips stutter, cocks needy and twitching from yet another denial as he chokes out a sob.
your amused voice chides into the hot air of the bedroom, soothing your palms over his tense thighs, “hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.”
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© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.
[ her lady is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]
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blossomingmoonlight · 7 months
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⭑ Under the eyes of the seven ⭑
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x niece!fem!reader
Summary: after years of leaving King's Landing, you go back to fight for your brothers inheritance, but the tense energy grows stronger when you meet you uncle again. So what will happen when your mother Rhaenyra betrothes you to him?
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: nsfw, violence, family hating family, hot uncles, vaginal, handjob, oral, making out, grinding, vaemond getting k!lled
The ride to King’s Landing felt like months passed after you left Dragon Stone, the voyage across the sea and then the never ending ride through the land. But finally you arrived with your family, the heir to the iron throne herself princess Rhaenyra, your stepfather prince Daemon, your brother Jacaerys, your other brother Lucerys and your brothers Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon.
Being the only and eldest daughter of princess Rhaenyra made you heir to the throne as well, which was a huge responsibility and one of the reasons why you were back in King’s Landing, at the very castle you grew up in. Your feelings were two faced, one the one hand you were happy to be back, on the other you dreaded having to see your uncle’s again and not to mention you step grandmother queen Alicent. 
As the two carriages stopped inside the courtyard it was awfully deserted and quiet, not something you expected as usually someone from your family’s station should be greeted by the king and queen themselves. The doors of the carriage opened and your brother Jace helped you down the steps, a few feet away your mother and prince Daemon exited their carriage as well. Your brothers followed you and your mother was greeted by Lord Caswell, whom you then followed inside. Since your mother and Daemon were to talk to the queen you decided to join your brothers Jace and Luke in the training courtyard. 
Following them down the steps in your beautiful red dress detailed with gold accents and flowers you realized it wasn’t very suited to walk around the sandy courtyard in but you decided it didn’t matter. Walking after Jace and Luke to the, what seemed to be training weapons, you decided to only spectate today. You weren’t shy of a certain amount of training yourself but you were too tired from the long journey you just made.
You glanced around the courtyard and saw two men training with a group of people around them but stayed with your brothers anyway. Then you noticed your brother Luke’s uncomfortable expression. “Luke what’s wrong?” You asked him, a little concerned. “Everyone is looking at us.” He expressed, noticing the eyes of people around you three. Jace seemed to be occupied with the weapons table and just laughed. “Who cares what they think.” Jace said while picking up a training sword. “Jace is right, why would we care what they think?” You said while putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder assuringly. “Easy for you to say, you actually look like a Targaryen.”
Luke scoffed, removing your hand from his shoulder. “That doesn’t matter, I know you want to look differently, but you shouldn’t give them the satisfaction.” You assured, but your conversation got cut off when there were cheers erupting from the crowd behind you. Jace and you couldn’t help but be curious who were dueling so you dragged Luke with you to witness the clearly exciting event.
As you pushed yourself through the crowd the image before you became clearer and a certain one eyed uncle came into view, you looked nervously at Jace next to you, knowing if he were to challenge one of your brothers now, he would probably end them. And then it happened, Aemond stopped in his tracks as he noticed you and your brothers. “Look who we have there, my niece and my nephews.” He said as his eyes fixated on your form, not even batting an eye at Jace and Luke.
Heat creeped on your skin as you took in his tall and mature figure, he had grown into a man over the years, that much was clear. Just as you were about to say something, the gate opened and the members of house Velaryon arrived. The courtyard fell into silence as the intimidating portrait of Vaemond Velaryon came into view, followed by princess Rhaenys and princess Baela. You gave Baela a soft smile which she returned, the last time you saw her was at her mothers funeral, you felt horrible for her and comforted her and Rhaena through the service. 
House Velaryon passed by and headed inside to prepare for the petition of Lucerys’ right to Driftmark. You couldn’t decide how to feel about it all, you were certain your grandfather the king would surely back him but after hearing about his health decline you weren’t so certain anymore. You pushed this thought back when you saw your uncle walk up to you. “Uncle, how good to see you again.” You faked a smile, growing up you had a hard time getting along and you were not sure how to feel about your relationship with him after these years.
“Niece, you’ve... matured I see, are you here to watch me train?” Aemond boasted, a slight smirk on his lips. “No, I just wanted to see what the commotion was about, that’s all.” You scoffed, it seemed that his ego and cockiness had only grown stronger. His hair was now long, his left eye, or rather scar, now covered by an eye patch. His tall figure towered over you as he held his hand on the sword stuck in the ground. “I see, well tell your brother I wish him luck today, he does not seem to have many people on his side.” Aemond taunted, evidently trying to get a rise out of you.
“We’ll see, uncle.” You exclaimed, and with that you sped out of the courtyard, once inside the tall and impressive castle halls, you tried to get his deep husky voice out of your mind. Some time passed as people were slowly starting to gather in the throne room, preparing for the petition to come. In truth you were starting to get nervous, if Luke was claimed to be unsuited to inherit Driftmark, was your and Jace’s inheritance put to question as well? You tried to stop thinking about it but it was quite hard as the petition grew closer. 
When it was finally time, the hand was sat on the iron throne, with the queen and your uncles and aunt at her side. You stood to the front right, next to Daemon and Jace. Vaemond expressed his opinions on the matter and after some time it was your mothers turn to state her petition. But just as she started, the doors opened and King Viserys came into view, slowly but surely making his way to the throne. Luke was saved after all. The king struggled but managed to sit on his throne once more anyway and expressed his confusion on the matter, after Rhaenys had her say, the matter was settled and Luke remains heir to Driftmark.
But Vaemond’s disgusted look told you shit was about to go down. “You may decide to rule your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine.” Vaemond hissed as he now almost trembled with anger. He went on. “Her children are BASTARDS!” He screamed, now he really had everyone's attention as gaspes could be heard across the room. “I will have your tongue for that.” The king sneered. But just as you were about to look at Daemon, he had disappeared from your side and before you could process the scene in front of you, Vaemond's head was cut off and rolled onto the floor, and blood painted the stone under his feet.
Daemon was about to be disarmed and escorted away but he wiped the blood of his sword and left himself. And you couldn’t help but look at Aemond, an admired expression on his face. His eyes locked with yours and you couldn’t help but show a tiny smile, which he returned. The room was quickly cleared after and you were escorted back to your quarters. 
As the sun was setting, your handmaidens were dressing you for supper, by the king's request, he wanted to eat with the entire family one last time because he knew his time was near. Your handmaiden Alyssa was tightening the beautiful blue gown, with long flowy sleeves and pearls on the bodice, the corset and thick skirt of the dress accentuating your beautiful figure. Your second handmaiden Marina finished up your hair, two braids being braided to the back of your head and being braided back as one.
Lastly Alyssa handed you your gold earrings to put in and Marina clasped a matching gold necklace around you. You added your favorite two gold rings on your fingers as well and headed over with your family to supper, where your step grandmother, aunt and your two uncles were already seated. A chair was pulled out next to Aemond and the guard waited for you to sit down. Feeling like you had no say in this you sat down and kept your mouth shut. Surprisingly the queen spoke to you. “What a beautiful dress granddaughter, an extraordinary color.”
She smiled, the compliment took you by surprise but you thanked her anyway. When it was time for the king to be brought in everyone rose and he was put down between your mother and the queen. The king then gave a speech on how he wishes for things to be peaceful between you all and how it seemed it was time for celebration as your two brothers were now betrothed to your cousins Baela and Rhaena. 
But then your mother rose and said she wished to speak. “I have another announcement to make, after the petition today, the queen and I have come to an agreement to bind our blood. So I offered to betroth my eldest daughter (Y/n) to her son Aemond so we may become stronger together again.” At your mothers words your mouth opened slightly not believing what you were hearing, you looked at her in disbelief and her lips formed a tight line as if silently saying ‘do not oppose this’.
You glanced at Aemond who looked in disbelief himself and averted your gaze to your grandfather who seemed very pleased with this. “Very good, this is how we should be. Binded by blood and stronger together.” King Viserys smiled, but as he sat back down he heaved and coughed and Alicent commanded he be taken back to his quarters to rest.
Just as the king was leaving, a big platter of what appeared to be roasted pig was brought in, and at the sight of this you looked at Jace and Luke unable to keep the smirk off your face remembering years ago the prank you played on your now betrothed. Aemond caught this and stood up, slamming his hands on the table and grabbing his cup of wine. “I would like to toast to the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” 
About two seconds went by before he dared say the last word. “Strong.” He ended. “Aemond.” His mother, the queen, warned. “Come, let us drain our cups to these three... strong boys.” He challenged. You looked at Jace who was about to snap. “I dare you say that again.” Jace sneered, fed up with Aemond’s words. “Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?” Aemond continued. Jace had enough, stood up and stormed up to him, punching Aemond right in his jaw. He pushed Jace to the ground and smirked at you, you stood up with fury and smacked him as hard as you could across his face, leaving his cheek red as you stormed out of the room. 
Once in the halls you raised your skirt slightly to be able to run to the only quiet place you knew in the castle. You thought you could hear someone following you but in your upset state you paid it no mind. As you descended several stairs you ended up in the dungeons near a bedchamber you used to escape to as a child. You opened its door and hurried inside, your face still hot with anger, and your heart pounding.
Was this really the man you had to marry? This vile, cocky asshole? You couldn’t believe it. As you removed your jewelry the door creaked open and you turned to face the very man himself. You couldn’t believe he had followed you here. “What do you want? To throw more insults?” You sneered at him. “Don’t be like that dear niece, I was just messing around. No need to get all upset about it.” He prodded while stepping a bit closer to you. “So what do you want?” You huffed taking a step back and sitting down on the old creaky bed.
“To talk about our... union, I suppose.” Aemond sighed clearly not too content about it himself. “If it were up to me there wouldn’t be a union.” You spoke and looked at him, you couldn’t help but take in his broader shoulders and his tainted face. Though even though tainted still handsome, no you thought, this man is horrible you won’t think about him this way, you refuse. “I understand, however, it seems to me like we don’t have a choice. We’re going to have to put up with each other.”
He continued, now taking a few steps towards you and a slight smile on his face as he observed you, taking in your figure. “I will not put up with your insults against my family, I don’t talk about your family that way do I? Because don’t get me started on your disgusting brother.” You warned, which earned you a disappointed look from him. “So you deny it then?” He certainly seemed to want to continue to taunt you with the rumors of your family. 
“Hold your tongue.” You snapped now standing up, right in front of him, looking up in his, well, eye. “Now now, no need for threats.” He smirked. “It’s not very nice to talk to your uncle that way now is it?” He said, now very close to you. If someone were to walk in, it would be a suggestive sight. “Why? Why must you taunt me this way? Do you really hate me that much?” You asked him, you tried to control your emotions but he was a little too good at getting a rise out of you.
“I hate your pretentious family, if that's what you mean.” He looked at you, his lips still forming a slight smirk on his face, it almost seemed as if he wanted you to slap him again. “You fucking vile disgusting asshole!” You snapped, finally he got what he wanted. You smacked his face again but before you could move your hand away he gripped your wrist tightly. “Those are not very kind words niece, someone ought to teach you a lesson.”
He grunted, he gripped your wrist tighter and pulled you against him, causing your left hand to be on his chest. “What are you doing?” You asked him, now a bit scared as to what he might do, knowing you are completely alone and no one could hear you. “Teaching you a lesson.” He almost whispered, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. You wanted to push him off, you really did but as if you had no control over your body your lips started moving against his, moving your hands to his face instead.
The kiss got more heated as he put his hands on your waist, pressing you tightly against him. With your bodies so close together you could feel something hard pressing against your lower stomach. He moved his lips feverishly against you and let his tongue swipe against your lower lip. You moaned at the feeling allowing him to slip his tongue inside, which you welcomed almost instantly and moving your own tongue against his. He let out a loud groan and squeezed your ass against him. “Fuck, move on the bed right now.” He ordered, and who were you to disobey your prince? 
You crawled back on the bed, laying down as Aemond climbed on top of you. He wasted no time in getting his lips on yours again, his right hand holding your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered your body against yours, specifically his lower body. Again you felt something hard pressing against you. “Wai- wait Aemond, something is pressing against me.” You breathed out, having never been with a man before this entire situation was new to you.
“That would be... me, love.” He whispered in your ear, a blush spread across your face, realizing what he meant. Then he started grinding against you, unable to help himself he groaned in your ear. “Fuck this is so wrong, but you just can’t help it can you niece, so hot for your uncle, fuck I bet you’ve never even seen a cock before.” He grunted in your ear, still grinding against you hard. At his words you could feel yourself dripping with arousal, you wanted more, needed more, only you didn’t know what you wanted more of. “Please uncle, please do something.” You pleaded in his ear.
“Want me to make you feel good princess? Want me to make you cum?” He teased now back against your lips giving you a kiss before starting to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, down to your chest. He ordered you to sit up and he undid your dress hastily, almost ripping it due to his want for you. He removed your dress and shoes and your undergarments as well. He kissed you once more before moving his lips towards your thighs, giving small bites and licks and even sucking a couple of love bites on them as well.
Finally he reached your throbbing core and licked a long stripe against your slit, causing a guttural moan to leave your lips. “Please my prince please I need more.” You begged, his tongue now lapping against your clit making you beg and beg for more. He started moving his tongue faster, occasionally putting his tongue inside your hole before sucking on your clit and entering a finger inside you, to prepare you for his hard cock. 
When you seemed accustomed to his finger he curled it a bit and started moving it right against that spongy spot that makes you see stars. The movements on his fingers, in combination with his tongue lapping on your clit you came hard, screaming his name, feeling your juices leak all over his fingers and the bedsheets. “Seven hells that was…so good.” You gasped, trying to calm down from your high. Aemond smirked at your words and removed his shirt, along with his boots and pants.
Wanting nothing more than to finally be inside you. “Are you going to be good and take my cock princess?” He uttered while climbing back on top of you. “Yes, yes please I’ll be good uncle, I’ll be so good for you.” You moaned as you felt the tip of his cock against your clit. He grabbed his dick by the base and moved the head slowly against your soaked slit. “Fuck you feel so good, such a good girl.” He groaned against your lips. You almost screamed as his tip entered you, a mixture of pain and pleasure overcoming you. As he bottomed out he stayed still for a bit to let you adjust and stretch around his hard cock. 
“Are you okay?” He decided to ask, he wanted nothing more to just fuck you dumb already but wanted you to feel good as well. “Yes I think so.” You mumbled, a light layer of sweat on your skin, your hair now messy and sprawled on the pillows, such a beautiful sight. After you spoke he started to slowly move, moaning at the feeling of your tight cunt around him. You gripped his back harshly with your nails causing him to let out a loud groan, after a moment or so he started moving faster, not being able to hold himself back anymore.
“Fuck please, please fuck me harder uncle!” You moaned loudly as he now started to really slam his hips against yours. The sounds of your moans and his filling the room as well as the slapping of your skin together, this only made you more aroused. He moved out of you for a second before flipping you over to your stomach, then he grabbed a pillow and moved it under your hips to raise your ass for him slightly. 
He then inserted his cock back inside you and started fucking you rough. His balls pounding against your ass as he fucked you harshly over the pillow. “Oh fuck! Please uncle! Please fill me! Please!” You screamed begging him to cum inside you. “Such a good girl, already such a slut for me.” He grunted in your ear, feeling himself getting closer to his release. He moved his hand between you and the pillow and moved his fingers over your clit, matching the speed with his pounding hips. You moaned and begged louder until you finally came hard, your walls contracting around him.
“Fuck yes, oh fuck that’s it.” Aemond moaned your tight cunt causing him to fill you up to the rim with his cum. He gave a final three thrusts to milk himself dry and moved off of you, laying by your side. You moved off the pillow and crawled in his arms. “Are you still upset about becoming my wife?” He asked you with a smile on his lips. “No I am definitely not.” You smiled back, as he held you tightly in his arms.
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I hope you liked my first Aemond fic, let me know who I should write for next and if there are things I should change. xx
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catboyieejeno · 1 year
Text
wet dream -> mark lee (m)
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contents: mark x gn! reader, no pronouns but reader has female anatomy, smut without plot, no relationship established, handjob, guided masturbation, oral (m receiving), pet names, cumshot, dirty talk (?) wc: 1k
masterlist
18+ minors do not interact !
⋆ ★
the sight of you, sprawled between his legs with your ankles crossed in the air and a single finger tracing the skin on his thigh is straight out of a wet dream. you’re a sight for sore eyes, a vision of ecstasy, with your pretty plump lips parted and your blown out pupils focused solely on his hand that pumps his cock.
“does that feel good?”
mark nods his head quickly, but your mouth folds into a disapproving frown.
“use your words, mark. tell me how nice your hand feels.”
there’s no way you’re real, he thinks.
hell, how is he supposed to think straight with your naked body on his, much less answer you coherently? do you even know how dry his mouth has run? or that your plush breasts are pressing into his thighs and driving him crazy?
he blinks his half-lidded eyes at you once and clears his throat before finding his voice, "it feels so good, baby."
the pout on your lips quickly shifts into a smirk and you bring both of your hands forward, placing them on his thighs and sliding up towards his abdomen, then back down.
"mm, tease your tip for me."
it's fucking ironic, the way your tone is sweeter than nectar, but your words are tainted with filth. his dick twitches as if it had heard you, dreading the way his owner would carry out your instructions with no objection. twenty minutes had passed since you subjected him to this, and he was so desperate to come that he could feel the ache in his bones.
mark spares his red, swollen head an apologetic glance before bringing his fingers up and rubbing it, a shaky breath escaping his parted lips. he watches your face carefully, desperate for your approval.
the best part, he decides with some mild-to-moderate difficulty, is that he can tell this feels good for you too—that you're enjoying this just as much as he is, if not more.
he's noticed it all: the way you've been squeezing your thighs together, how your breathing has become labored, and how even though you're not touching yourself, your body and face are covered with a thin layer of sweat.
he thinks you're the prettiest thing ever, and he can't wait to come on your face.
that thought, combined with his hand wrapping around himself and squeezing brings him so close to edge that he gasps, but your hand flies out to stop him.
"i didn't say you could finish yet,"
"what?!" he pants, eyes widening, "baby, please. i'm so close."
it's tempting to give in to him, but you shake your head nonetheless, "just a little longer. i like making you feel good."
slowly, you move your hand and his, guiding it up and down his length for a few seconds, before slipping them both completely off. he involuntarily bucks his hips up to chase the feeling, letting a hiss slip through his tightened teeth as he mourns loss of contact.
"baby-"
"i know, i know," you coo, and he watches tentatively as you shift to hover above him.
your gaze remains locked on his expression long enough to watch the way his brow dips down into a crease, before shifting towards his cock to direct your aim. your jaw tightens, working to gather some spit to the front of your mouth and as soon mark realizes what you're doing, he holds his breath.
then, you let it fall from your lips, landing your spit over the very center of his slit where your finger swipes once to spread it, and both of you watch in awe as it spills down the side of him, trickling along his shaft.
when your hand finally wraps around him again, he fully moans, loudly, shamelessly, eyes rolling back in pure bliss.
you're gonna be the fucking death of him, and he would die the happiest man on earth.
"oh, my-" he whines, "faster, please,"
when you oblige, his hands start shaking. perhaps he didn't think you'd actually do it, since you'd been teasing him for the better part of an hour. but alas, he was wrong, and thank god for that.
within seconds, he's grasping at the bedsheets and even at his own hair in search of anything that can tether him before he floats away. there are no thoughts in his head anymore; you've got him squirming helplessly, pathetically.
his voice is strained and his speech is slurred, almost unintelligible as he asks for more. the moment your lips wrap around him to appease his request, it's almost too much. he can't tear his eyes away from you, completely mesmerized by the way you're taking him into your mouth and swallowing around him.
the tears that slip from your eyes and your tongue that swirls around him make him so dizzy that he's seeing stars. he can feel how close he's getting, he's almost there. how were you doing this?
mark squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds to help his blurring vision so he can manage one last, clear look at you in hopes that it will push him over the edge. and oh, it does exactly that.
when you lift mouth off of him with a pop and stick out your tongue to catch his cum, he falls apart. there's no warning, only the air hitching in his throat; thick stripes of white paint your face as he finishes, chanting your name like it's a prayer, and it may as well be.
he doesn't know how long his orgasm lasts, just that by the end of it, his legs are trembling and his fingertips have gone numb.
he's barely recovering when your thumb wipes at some of the fluid on your cheek, drawing it towards your mouth for a taste.
"you look beautiful," you giggle, feeling like you've never been more honest about anything in your life. if looks could kill, you'd be watching him from beyond the grave. his hair's a mess, chest flushed red and heaving, cheeks tinted a similar shade to match. his cum tastes sweet on your finger, and he's looking at you like he just won the lottery. yeah, he's certainly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
and you? you're definitely better than any wet dream he could ever have.
⋆ ★
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astr0n0va1 · 2 months
Text
𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟑
Previous parts: Teaser , 1, 2
Sorry about the long wait but heres pt.3, and I loved writing this part please share your thoughts. Thank you for your patience 💗.
2,261 words
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Once you all got home you all parted ways into your own individual rooms. You went to your room and decided to take a nap before getting ready for the club. You ended up sleeping until 9:00 and by the time you woke everyone had started getting ready, meaning that you were behind schedule.
You showered and washed your hair, and once you got out of the shower you applied your products for your skin and your face. You ended up wearing a dark blue skirt with a cute top and styled it with some white heels and your white dior saddle bag. You started applying your curl products to your hair and as you raked the product through your hair you heard a knock at the door.
“Come in.” You said, loud enough for whoever it was to hear it.
The door opened revealing Armando shirtless, but before your eyes could fully adore him he broke the silence.
“Kelly said that you might know where the iron is..” He said still at the door.
“Yeah it’s in the closet next to the laundry room.” You said while starting to scrunch your hair.
He stood there for a second trying to imply that he didn’t know where that was.
“Just give me a second while I wash my hands so I can help you.” You said before going into your bathroom.
You made your way downstairs and as you both silently walked you could feel his eyes trailing your body. You led him to the closet next to the laundry room and handed him the iron. But as you started walking back to your room you heard him call your name.
“Y/n can you help me iron the shirt? I'm not good at stuff like this.” He asked.
Your heart skipped a beat but you agreed. You walked back upstairs with him following you, but once you got to his door you stopped, waiting for him to lead the way. He took notice and opened the door and led you in by placing his hand on your lower back.
His room was clean and very tidy in comparison to others, the black shirt was laid out on the bed. Once you saw it you plugged in the iron into the plug near the nightstand. You sat the iron up and waited for it to heat up. The silence was so loud that you could hear Kelly’s playlist loud and clear. You sat on the bed and he was leaning against the wall.
“So you know how to snipe people from great distances with amazing accuracy but you don’t know how to iron?” you asked, trying to break the silence.
This caused Armando to chuckle. He then said, “That’s different.”
“If I knew any better I'd say that you're acting helpless just to be around me.” You said taking him by surprise.
“Well can you blame me.” He said.
You let out a small smile trying not to blush, you then noticed his fixed gaze on you. You noticed that the iron was hot and got up to start ironing his shirt so you could go and finish your hair and makeup.
You lightly bent over to iron his black shirt trying to not let your mini skirt slide up, you worked quickly on his shirt and unplugged the iron.
“Did you mean to half kiss me, or was it an accident?” He asked as he started to put his shirt on.
“I meant to half kiss you, why are you asking me?” You asked for help buttoning his shirt.
“Just needed to be sure.” He said before placing his hands on your hips and pulling your body into his for a kiss.
The kiss was so gentle but dominant at the same time. As the kiss deepend you put your arms around his neck, and let yourself be consumed by the kiss.
“Hey Armando have you seen Y/n? Ohhh shit i’m sorry” Kelly said before closing the door.
You quickly broke away from the kiss and started to walk away before he grabbed you.
“Are you ok?” He asked.
“Yeah I’m fine but now I’m behind on getting ready so I’ll see you downstairs.” You said before making your way out the room.
You then made your way across into your room and closed the door. You made your way to your mirror to finish up your makeup quickly until you heard a voice that caused you to jump.
“So what was that about?” Asked Kelly as she laid on your bed.
“Fuckk kelly don’t do that, but that was just a little kiss.” You said smirking.
“Looks like a makeout sesh to me” She said while getting up to come look at herself in the mirror.
“If that’s what you want to call it.” You said with a laugh as you applied lip gloss onto your lip combo.
“Just be safe, use protection if anything.” She said with a wink before taking some of your pink lipgloss and applying it on.
“You know that’s not like me.” You replied with a smile.
“Yeah but you never know, but for now just hurry up we will all be waiting downstairs.” She said before making her way out the room.
You finished the last touches on your hair and makeup, and sprayed on some perfume before sliding your heels on and making your way down the stairs.
“Ok I’m ready, how do I look?” You asked.
Everyone in the living room turned to look at you.
“Hot babe, now let’s go.” She said before grabbing your hand leading you out the door.
Skip to the club
Rafe was able to get you all in without having to wait in the line, as you guys made your way in, Rafe stood in front of you and Kelly, and Armando and Dorn behind you both like security. You all made your way to the reserved section and sat down.
“Wow it’s packed tonight.” you said to kelly.
“Yeah, a whole lot of dealers are here.” she said while scanning the whole club.
“Imma go get us some drinks and a round of shots to start, so you all stay here.” Rafe said before making his way to the bar.
This left you and Armando on one couch and Kelly and Dorn on the other. You all sat there just vibing to the music waiting for Rafe to come back. When he did he came back with a tray.
“Damn you couldn’t let one of the bottle girls bring us the drinks.” Dorn said jokingly.
“Nah i’m making sure we all have a good time so everyone grab a glass.” He said while lightly putting the tray down.
You all picked up a shot.
“Let’s go, everyone bottoms up.” Rafe said before he tilted his head back and swallowed. As you finished yours you made a sour face as there were no chasers, and the liquid quickly made its way into your system. You looked around at Kelly and Dorn who had the same look on their faces as you, and then when you looked at Armando he had a straight face.
“See I can party with Armando, that wasn’t that strong for y’all to need chasers.” Rafe said.
He then started handing you all the drinks he got at the bar. He handed you a vodka cranberry, Kelly a passion fruit mojito, and Dorn and Armando a beer.
“Here are yall drinks on me, now if you need me you know where to find me.” Rafe said before leaving the section.
“Imma go dance.” Said Kelly before pulling Dorn to the dance floor.
“Armando, are you coming?” you asked as you got up to join Kelly and Dorn.
“I’ll join you guys later. I'm not a big dancer.” He said.
You all made your way down to the dancefloor leaving Armando at the section by himself.
Armando looked around keeping his eye on you as you danced with Kelly, until he felt a presence. His neck hairs stood up as he recognized that scent, he then turned to come face to face with her.
“Hi baby, have you missed me?” she said to him.
“Rosanne, what are you doing here?” He said coldly.
“That’s no way to greet your wife Armandito?” she replied flirtatiously.
“That wasn’t real, we were young and we didn’t know what anything meant.” he replied, looking at her coldly.
“Armando we made vows. And I had plans for us, but where did we go wrong?” She said.
“Tal Vez en la parte que estas loca, y que me trataste de matar Rose, maybe that’s where you went fucking wrong.” He spat at her.
(Maybe in the part where you are crazy, and you tried to kill me Rose.)
“That’s water under the bridge, I've changed please come home to me.” she said pleadingly.
“You have problems Rose, and we have gone over this. There’s no us there will never be a us again get that through your head. ” He said and looked to the dance floor to make sure none of you guys saw him talking to her.
“Armando, you're hurt I understand but it’s time for us to put our differences aside and be together again like old times.” She said while putting her hand on top of his. 
He quickly moved his hand and put more space between them. Rose was taken back by this as it infuriated her how he didn’t even want her to touch him.
“Why are you like this….what.. Wait, is there someone else in your life?” she asked.
“Rosanne we are done. Get that through your fucking head.” He said before getting up and walking off. 
Armando started to walk away as he was now leaving, when he heard Rosanne say something.
“Armando don’t forget I always get what I want one way or another, and you know this.” she said threateningly. 
Angrily Armando quickly made his way out of the club and hauled a taxi to take him back to the house. When he arrived he packed his stuff back into his duffel bag and as he folded the last of his quickly realized what this meant. 
He wasn’t going to put you in the path of danger, and that night he decided he was going to keep his distance from you. If anything happened to you because of him he would never be able to forgive himself. He realized his past will always come back to haunt him but this time he made sure it wouldn’t affect anyone else. So he got his things and left.
Back at the club
You went back to the section to pull Armando to dance but didn’t find anybody there, so you thought he went to the bathroom and waited for a few minutes but nothing. You then made your way to the bar in hopes of running into him but nothing. 
You ended up running into Rafe at the bar.
“Y/n whats up whats with the frown?” He asked while scooting over to you. 
“Nothing, I was just looking for Armando, have you seen him?” You asked.
“Yeah he was talking to some girl in our section and then he left about a few minutes ago.” He responded.
As Rafe mentioned another girl your face dropped.
“Oh ok I didn’t see him so I was just worried.” You said trying to play it off.
“Y/n it’s none of my business, but if he can’t see what he has in front of him and chooses something else that's on him. If he doesn't want a gorgeous, smart, and caring girl then he’s the one missing out not you.” Rafe said trying to cheer you up.
“You think so?” You asked.
“Trust me I know, so now get some drinks and go dance.” He said before handing you a drink and dragging you back to the dancefloor to dance.
You ended up dancing with Rafe for the rest of the night. As time passed you all got your stuff and ready and got ready to go home. As you waited outside the club for a taxi your feet started hurting.
“My feet are killing me.” you whined as you looked around for a taxi.
“Well there’s no taxis right now. So you just take them off.” said Kelly.  
“No, I don't want to touch the floor, it's nasty.” You said, causing Kelly to chuckle. 
“I'll order an uber” said dorn.
“Here I’ll carry you.” Rafe offered. 
“Rafe you're my savior.” you said while making your way over to him. 
He picked you up bridal style, and then took your heels into his hands. 
“Why would I need a boyfriend with friends like this?” You say before placing a kiss on his cheek.   
Later as you all arrived at the house exhausted you said your goodnights and made your way to your room. After getting ready for bed you curiously knocked on Armando’s door to make sure he made it back. You waited but still no answer.
You decided to check on him and as you opened the door you found the room empty. His clothes were gone, the room looked like nobody was ever in there. You made your way back to your room and thought to yourself if this was his way of rejecting you, or is this just him running off with someone else.
Whatever it was you just knew that on monday the AMMO headquarters were bound to be awkward.
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Taglist: @cardi-bre91, @believeinthefireflies95, @blackgirlmagicforever , @bootlegroach , @mentalidrainedfangirl , @lotusunique, @thesizzler , @marissa53115 , @yeahnohoneybye @housewifewithnohusband22
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aemondluvbot · 2 months
Text
𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖘
✧ ⸺ aemond x reader︱a “the dragon and the sparrow” blurb
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𝔞. 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: i have always genuinely adored the scenes in acotar where rhys teaches feyre how to read so this is very much inspired by that
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: allusions to smut but nothing on page for this one, innuendo, nudity, fluff apart from that
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“aeg…aegon the con…conc…” you groan in frustration, the words dancing in front of you eyes—elusive and more difficult than they have any right to be. 
“conqueror,” aemond corrects gently, brushing his knuckles up and down your bare shoulders as you sit between his legs, the giant tome in your hands. it’s much past your bedtime, the hour of the bat, and yet you’re determined… determined to show him that you can make progress, you can learn. 
it’s been a challenging few weeks, but you want to show him you’re worth teaching, a good student. 
“aegon the conqueror,” you repeat, a little more confident, “was the f-feerst…?”
“first,” the prince corrects you again, laughing softly when you huff and slam the book shut. “come on little sparrow, you can’t give up just yet.”
“i’ve been trying!” you whine. and it’s true, every spare minute you have between washing linens and mopping floors and boiling water for baths, you sneak in quick peeks at the loose pages aemond has been giving you. more often than not, it’s history lessons—targaryen history and stories from all seven kingdoms, histories of dragons and lands beyond the narrow sea. 
anything and everything that’s challenging for you. anything and everything for you to learn how to read. 
“i know you have been, my sweet,” the prince placates you a little, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. 
just hours ago you were tossing between the sheets, lost in the throes of ecstasy, and now here you are… frustrated beyond belief and still on the first page of this newest lesson. 
“open the book,” he says. it’s an order, more like, one you shouldn’t refuse. still you grumble a little, making him chuckle again. “go on…”
you clear your throat, a little dramatic. “aegon the con…queror… the conqueror was the… first l-lord of the sev…en kingdoam…kingdoms,” you pause, breaking apart several times and repeating words until they feel familiar on your tongue. until the letters make a little more sense than before. “and king on… the irun—”
“iron.”
“iron th…throne.” 
“very good,” aemond praises, turning your face to him so he can give you a kiss as reward. 
this has been the routine for a few weeks now—he fucks you to within an inch of your life and then makes you sit between his legs, a book in your hands, making you read the words out loud to him. the kisses are your favourite reward, as much a treat for you as it is for him. 
“this is so dull,” you whine again, in a difficult mood tonight. 
aemond hums. “you think my ancestor, aegon the conqueror, is dull?” 
you gasp, realising what just came out of your mouth in front of the prince when you feel a pinch on your hip, making you half-yelp half-giggle. his mouth hovers just above your ear, kissing the shell and the lobe and then your jaw. 
“i think i agree with you,” he whispers, making you giggle a little more. “should we get a new book then?”
“mm-hmm,” you nod, “you told me once you had a book on vhagar for me. i’d like that one, my prince.” 
wordlessly, aemond leaves the bed, taking the book in your hands away with him. you instantly miss the warmth of his body, of the feel of his skin against yours. but you can’t complain too much about it, not when he's right there in front of you, gloriously naked and searching for the book you requested. 
“a lot of big words in this one,” aemond warns while you salivate over his backside. you have a sneaking suspicion he’s taking longer than necessary, standing right there for a few more moments just for your viewing pleasure. 
“i’m quite good with big things, my prince,” you answer, rather coy. 
“are you now?” aemond turns sideways, his little smirk now half-visible. “that mouth of yours will get you in trouble some day, little sparrow.”
it’s not a threat, not even close. and yet it sends a tendril of thrill down your spine and straight to your core. “i look forward to that day, my prince.” 
his smirk turns into a smile, but the prince chooses not to answer, pulling the book down from a high shelf instead. once he’s back in bed you slot yourself back between his legs, comfortable and snug. 
the book looks just as old as the others, leather-bound and its pages yellowing, but the illustration on the front page is all too familiar. for a moment you close your eyes and think of the wind rushing through your hair, think of the prince’s arms around you much like they are now. 
“shall we begin?” he nudges and you nod, turning to the first page. 
you begin much like before—struggling with the words and repeating them until they come a little more easily. aemond corrects much like before too, gently guiding you over the more difficult ones, praising with kisses and soft touches when you get them right. it’s only after the first page that you turn to him in curiosity. 
“can i ask something, my prince?”
he hums, busy stroking his fingers through your hair, and you take that as a yes. 
“how did you get her? vhagar… she’s centuries older than you and so much bigger. you can’t have had her as an egg in your cradle.”
“i didn’t,” he answers, closing his eyes perhaps to reminisce the day you’d asked about, stroking your head still. “i was just a boy, ten years of age… and she was riderless.”
“you were ten?” your voice drips with incredulity, not doubting him, never doubting him. when you close your eyes you can picture it so clearly—a small boy of ten, silver hair down to his shoulders, approaching a dragon hundreds of times his size.
“do you not believe me, little sparrow?” aemond teases. 
“i’d never doubt you,” you respond. “what did you say to her?”
“i said, ‘dohaerās, vhagar! lykirī,’ and she let me climb her,” the prince explains, dramatising the familiar words you’d heard him speak in high valyrian just a few weeks ago. 
“you told her to… to… serve, and… be calm?”
“look at you, little sparrow,” aemond swoops down, capturing your lips in his for a deep lingering kiss that has heat coiling in your belly again. rather possessively, you grab his face in your hands, deepening the kiss, relishing the feel of his mouth on yours until he’s the one to break it. 
“you can learn high valyrian—” another small peck on your lips “—once you’ve mastered the common tongue. until then…” his arms loop around you again, putting the book back in your lap to the page it was on before, and tapping the page with his finger. 
you intertwine your fingers with his, kissing the back of his hand. “if that’s what my prince commands…” 
and then you begin all over again. 
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𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @uhnanix
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fyodere · 6 months
Text
gakuen!fyodor smut pt. 2 for you freaks <3
all my warmth is inside of you
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﹙ 💬 ﹚── parings: fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader ♡
₍^. .^₎⟆ ── content warnings / tags : nsfw content (mdni), high school!au, fyodor is mean, misogyny kink, corruption kink, academic rivals, petnames, virgin!reader, degradation, fyodor is a sadic, dumbification, spanking, underage (you and fedya are like 17), dirty talk ♡
﹙ 🔪 ﹚── synopsis : Being alone in the library with Fyodor was uncomfortable. After all, you always had an complicated relationship with Dostoevsky. He is the student council president and future valedictorian — and he takes his role very seriously.
You are indeed one of the best students in the whole school. Fyodor would never say it out loud, but he feels threatened by you. So, he always try to sabotage your school life with his little games to keep you in the second place. Oh, and he doesn’t mind get his hands dirty if it means that you won’t me a bother anymore.
That leads you to your current situation; you’re alone with Dostoevsky in the library, doing your homework silently while he was reading something 20 feet away from you. You don’t know why, but you can feel his gaze piercing your back.
﹙ 🩸 ﹚── author's note : promised y’all part 2 and here it is !! i’m very happy with all the attention you guys gave for part one <3 seriously i smile when i remember all the comments and stuff ! so thank you ! i have many smuts in my drafts but i don’t wanna post all them bcs i don’t wanna burn you guys out of me
Being alone in the library with Fyodor was uncomfortable. After all, you always had an complicated relationship with Dostoevsky. He is the student council president and future valedictorian — and he takes his role very seriously.
You are indeed one of the best students in the whole school. Fyodor would never say it out loud, but he feels threatened by you. So, he always try to sabotage your school life with his little games to keep you in the second place. Oh, and he doesn’t mind get his hands dirty if it means that you won’t me a bother anymore.
That leads you to your current situation; you’re alone with Dostoevsky in the library, doing your homework silently while he was reading something 20 feet away from you. You don’t know why, but you can feel his gaze piercing your back.
Fyodor feels ashamed of himself. Last night he had a wild dream. A dream that he feels the urge to cover his face every time he remembers about it. Fyodor is usually confident and calm, but you’re slowly taking control of his feelings.
Suddenly, without warning, Fyodor slams his book shut and strides over to where you're sitting. His eyes, usually calm and calculating, are ablaze with fury.
"You think you're so clever, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and menacing. "Always trying to outshine me, always one step ahead."
Before you can react, he grabs you by the shoulders and presses you firmly against the wall, his grip like iron. You can feel the hard surface digging into your back, making it difficult to breathe.
“Hey, what are you—“ He cuts you abruptly.
“Ah? Do you really think you can get on my level, darling?” Fyodor laughed sarcastically. He could be really mean sometimes. “Do you really think a pathetic girl like you could beat me? What a foolish desire you have.” He said angrily. "I won't let you win," he hisses, his face inches from yours. "Not this time, not ever." His words are filled with venom, and you can sense the intensity of his hatred burning like a fire inside him. It's clear that Fyodor will stop at nothing to maintain his position of power and control.
Fyodor smirks. He always has this smug face that deeply get on your nerves. “Mhmn… looks like my pathetic mouse is scared.” His breath is touching your sensitive skin, giving you chills. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of your rival.” Dostoevsky gives a sarcastic laugh. God, he loves how vulnerable and pathetic you look. His perverted thoughts are going wild. “That’s my dumb little girl.”
“Who are you calling dumb?” You whispered dangerously, sightly afraid of Fyodor. “As I remember, I had beat you on the last exam—“ He slapped your face.
“As I know, I have beat you in the last three tests. Do you really think you can get on my level?” Fyodor bites his thumb as he laughed. “You’re more pathetic than I thought, woman.” You felt inferior when he called you simply woman.
Fyodor can feel it, how easily he can control you. Fyodor smiles at your softly and whispers into your ear again. “You sure seem to get excited when you’re around me, don’t you, my dumb little girl?”
“What the hell are you saying?” Fyodor shuts you up, kissing you.
Dostoevsky chuckles, breaking the kiss. “You don’t know all the fantasies I have about you. Our stupid rivalry always get on my way.” He whispers again, his voice is filled with an almost menacing tone. “Should I just turn you into my little messy thing or be gentle?”
The moment your lips met, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his soft lips against yours. Time stood still as you both shared this intimate moment, but as you finally parted, you found herself gasping for air, your chest tight with the overwhelming rush of emotions. It was as if the sheer intensity of your connection had momentarily stolen your breath away, leaving you longing for more. You’re breathless.
You were alone in the library, class time had ended and it would soon be curfew. Your heart was beating fast. Fyodor kissed you. That's right, he kissed you. The smug, pseudo-intellectual boy in your class had kissed you like there was no tomorrow, and you had liked it. I mean, how could you not? The tension between the two of you was so tense it could have been cut with a knife. Fyodor simply did what you secretly fantasized about every night. He cupped your face using his free hand, squeezing your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re so pathetic and useless, only a little toy that I can mess with.”
“Oh yeah? Show me what you got then.” You whispered, with a smirk and you’re ready. You are ready to take everything Fyodor got.
He kissed you again, your bodies collided in synchrony. Tongues twisting and eyes rolling. Fyodor breaks the kiss grins. There was something lustful on his gaze, you couldn’t help but get embarrassed. Dostoevsky had this provocative yet enchanting aura.
“Stupid little girl, now, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” Fyodor commanded once more in a commanding but still seductive tone. Dostoevsky was loving this, the power is was feeling. His smirk grew as he continued, he was loving every second of this. “My pathetic little girl…” Fyodor’s eyes were dark and sinister now, He seemed so in control now. He loved it.
You did as requested, then he sucked your tongue. It was so naughty, so delicious. You couldn’t help but let a moan slide.
“Good little slut. You’re such a good fuck toy, aren’t you?” Fyodor's voice was deep and seductive, it was hard not to be affected by his charm. “I bet you love being called a slutty little bitch, don’t you? You’d probably even suck my cock if I told you to, wouldn’t you? You’re such a pathetic little whore, aren’t you?”
“And what if I wanted to suck you off?”
Fyodor's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, oh, oh!" Fyodor gasped, completely taken aback by your question. He looked at you with wide-eyed wonder, unable to believe you had said those words. Will you be this easy, seriously? "I... I..." Fyodor stammered, clearly caught off guard. "Well, well, well." He snapped his fingers, trying to regain his composure. "What an interesting idea, isn't it? You want to be my little bitch, do you?” Fyodor laughed, he didn’t believe you would dare to say such a thing. But as he saw your expression change, he was intrigued. “Oh, so you want to be my little slut, huh? I’ll teach you a lesson, little dumb girl.”
“And what type of lesson you want to teach me, Fedya?” You said biting your tongue, trying to control all your desires.
Fyodor chuckled, “I want to teach you that you should learn to obey a man like me, little mouse. You need to know your place, as a woman, and it's not as the top student, it's as my little toy, and you better accept it.” He squeezed your cheeks again. “As a woman, you will always be inferior to me. Always.”
Fyodor had never been one to back down from a challenge. He was determined to break your will, no matter how long it took. And if you tried to resist him, he would only grow stronger. He could already see himself being your master, controlling your every move. He could even force you to be his little plaything. But he knew he had to be patient. He couldn't rush the process. He would need to win your trust first. And then, he would take you over his knee and teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget.
“You want me to fuck you senseless, hmm? You want me to own you completely, don’t you, my dumb little girl? To make you my little messy thing?” He said licking his own lips. “I bet you can’t resist me, dumb little girl. I will take you right here, right now, and no one will ever find out. I promise you that.” Fyodor Dostoevsky grins, he was enjoying the thrill of the moment. The power he felt over her made him feel alive “You’re so adorably cute when you’re flustered, little one.” He grinned down at you, his eyes filled with lust and malice. He let his hand slide down your body, fingers grazing your thigh. “And, well, I’ve never been caught before, so there’s no need to worry.”
You moaned when Fyodor's lips came into contact with the warm skin of your neck, leaving trails of kisses and bites all over the area. The empty library held his two bodies. His cheek pressed against the icy wall, his wrists pinned behind his back, being held by one of Dostoevsky's large, icy hands.
“Please...” You let go with difficulty, feeling your face throbbing and your belly throbbing. “Fedya—” You call out to him one last time.
The voracious eyes focus on you, turning your face slightly to observe you, a few strands of hair falling on the small visible part of your face, causing a victorious smile to appear on Fyodor's face. His grip around your wrists tightens, this time he uses his knee to spread your legs further apart with the dress bunched up around your waist – only your delicate white panties visible together with your skin in the middle of an empty library, where at any moment someone could arrive and catch you in the act.
“Fedya...” He tastes the name with some contempt, letting out a nasal laugh. “What kind of idiot would help a little slut like you, dumb thing?”
You moan, feeling your body being pushed harder against the wall. Fyodor's knee presses against the wet spot on your panties, making you try to somehow close your own legs. In response, a sharp, heavy slap is placed on his right buttock.
“Be quiet, dammit!” He grunts, opening his own zipper with some difficulty due to using only one hand. His pants slide down his thighs, his boxers are too tight and he almost sighs in relief when his erection comes out, slamming roughly against your ass. “Such a helpless girl...”
His panties are easily torn. Your lips part and your eyes close tightly at the sensation that Fyodor's cock causes you as it enters your pussy with surprise. You contort your own hands, pressing your nails against his palm, letting out a contained, desperate, relieved moan.
“No… Oh my God.” You sigh.
“I like it that way, you know? When you struggle to come and still accept me like a little whore” He whispers close to your ear, his lips sliding down the back of your neck. “I like taking advantage of little girls like you. Ask me to stop... Isn’t that what you want?”
"Deeper!" You almost command in an authoritarian way, having yet another slap brutally delivered against your skin.
“Speak to me in the right way, stupid woman.” He warns in a slurred manner, pushing his own hips against your body, sinking deeper and deeper inside you. Your free hand tangles in his hair.
You nod your head in confirmation, pushing your own body against his trying to close any space between the two of you, if that were still possible. A smile appeared on Dostoevsky's lips, causing him to pull his hair, bringing his body back only to see the redness on a part of his face before pushing him against the wall again, hearing a painful groan leaving your lips from him.
"Good girl."
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bedoballoons · 1 year
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Genshin Men headcanon? With a cute Obedient Wive/Girlfriend.
I don't want to put it in too details so I'll just keep it short and simple, basically it's a family thing where the wife have to be obedient with their spouse, but they can break following the spouse order if the spouse request is unreasonable, dangerous and etc. :)
Also can you add Cyno? Thanks
Awe housewife vibes! Also thank you for making it simple for me! Sometimes I find it difficult to understand longer requests so I really appreciate it, I hope you enjoy <3
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Obedient wife~༺}
CW: Just fluff!, established relationships and reader uses she/her pronouns! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie and my love, Kazuha: Dearest, Neuvillette: Mon amour, Cyno: Beautiful)
(Includes: Lyney, Kazuha, Wanderer, Neuvillette, and Cyno!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, his eyes lingering on the table set with your delicious cooking, "Thank you my love for preparing this for everyone...it all looks perfect." He placed a gentle kiss against your skin, making your face blush that perfect shade of pink he adored so much...he always knew how to get you flustered, "Anything for you dearest, speaking of which, do you need your clothes ironed? How about your hat, have you organised the tricks in it recently?" You awaited his response eagerly, wanting to do the best for your wonderful husband.
He chuckled softly, placing another sweet kiss on your cheek, "Mon chérie, you've done everything I could ask for, right now the only thing left is to spend time with me while we wait for my siblings...if you'd like to of course." You turned to face him, kissing his lips as if the answer were so obvious...cause it was, "There's nothing else Id rather do."
𑁍༄Kazuha:
"Dearest, could you bring me my sword? Make sure to be careful, even a sheath cannot always contain the blade...I don't want you getting hurt." Kazuha glanced at you from his workstation, flashing that soft sweet smile that always made you swoon and gesturing to his sword not far from you. Even though you didn't know much about weapons, you liked helping him, following his instructions and being the most perfect wife you could be.
You carefully retrieved his sword, watching him with admiration as he sharpened the edges and repaired the handle, by the time he was finished it looked like new again and you were in awe. "You look amazed..., I promise this isn't as impressive as how I handle the blade. " He gently moved your hair away from your face and kissed your forehead, hoping to impress you even more later on.
𑁍༄Wanderer:
You loved Wanderer with all your heart, you enjoyed pleasing him with home cooked meals, a clean house, but most of all you enjoyed his little requests he'd make. Most of them when the two of you were alone, he'd ask you to sit in his lap and talk with him about his day, or he'd ask for many kisses because he was truthfully addicted to them at this point.
Only issue was, every now and again when the two of you were in public and he was feeling particularly jealous he'd request...more forward things, not that consent was a issue, the two of you were married after all, but with so many people around...you had a hard time giving him what he wanted.
"Come on...just one extra deep kiss, I want to make sure everyone knows you're my wife, especially that annoying server who kept eyeing you." Your face was more than a little blushed, the server and most of the customers watching the two of you like you were modern day entertainment...but there wasn't anything wrong with what wanderer wanted...so you couldn't just say no...
"Very well...one more kiss..."
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
You set a stack of documents on Neuvillettes desk, straightening out any other loose papers for him and taking his crystal clear cup so you refill it with some more water, "Neuvillette, can I get you anything else?" He looked up from his work, his eyes instantly filling with warmth when they met yours...sometimes he got so wrapped up in his cases he forgot how gorgeous and sweet you were, "Mon amour...I apologize for not saying thank you earlier...I was to focused on my work. You've done more than enough for me, I appreciate it immensely...in fact I'm not sure what I would do without you."
You blushed at his kind words and leaned in to give him a kiss, his hand intertwining with yours while the other touched your cheek, "I love you Neuvillette."
"I love you too."
𑁍༄Cyno:
Cyno held your hand softly, walking with you around the many shops in Sumeru city, keeping a eye out for any wrong doers while you picked out fresh food for dinner. This time you held up a water melon for him, wondering if he'd like it for dessert... "Hmm what about this for desert honey?" He looked at the fruit for a moment, smiling in a way you knew meant he had a joke he wanted to tell you, "I'd have to arrest you for a melony if you don't make that for desert...get it? Melony, felony?"
You giggled happily and reached over to grab some more vegetables, holding up a carrot with a mischievous smile, "I get it...but I'm afraid I do not carrot all for your joke." You winked at him and he had to stand there for a minute to recuperate, he was actually dazed from falling for you so hard...all over again, "I...I love you so much. Never leave me..."
"Your wish is my command my love."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧
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arealphrooblem · 5 months
Text
Kidnapped by the Boss Part 7
Hey guys! Sorry it's been like a million years since I updated anything! I got burned out for a while and I'm slowly getting back to it. Hopefully with summer break looming, you'll see more of me!
Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.
Part one here
Part six here
"What is this?”
It looked harmless, a small metal rectangular wrist band with no buttons or engraving or adornment of any kind. She didn’t trust it, regardless, not that that mattered to Rook, who kept his explanations to himself as he grabbed her hand. She tried to jerk it back, but his grip turned bruising and iron tight as he latched it shut.  
It hugged tightly on her, a nearly imperceptible hum against her skin. Only a tiny seam remained on the bottom, with no button or latch or catch to open it.
“What is it?” she demanded, swallowing down a flutter of panic.
Rook rolled his eyes. “Relax, princess. It’s just a tracker.”
“A tracker?”
“Yeah. Consider it your freedom. Now you can go anywhere you want and no one has to worry about you slipping out to somewhere you shouldn’t be.”
She gave him an appraising look. “Are you going to come fetch me if I go somewhere I shouldn’t?”
“No. I’m just going to push a button and an electric current will take you out until someone finds you.”
He gazed back, utterly impassive, and Val couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare her or not. She refused to be cowed though.
“How strong of a current are we talking about?” she asked
A smirk spread slowly across his face. “Why don’t you get near an airport and find out? If it doesn’t kill you, then you’ll have your answer.”
Val jut her chin up, meeting his smirk with a glare. “Do you get a kick out of trying to make me afraid? Does it make you feel tough?”
He snorted and stepped closer to her. She stood stock still as he linked their arms together.
“You’re in enemy territory, Val,” he murmured, ducking his head down close to her ear, like he was sharing a secret.  “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted up. “My king wants you down for lunch in his office. I’ll show you the way.”
The king’s office looked much the same as it did when he was Eugene the Prime Minister. Papers scattered in random piles, post it notes scribbled with cryptic notes only he understood. Reminders taped on walls, the desk, the door.
A table was cleared off, the papers clearly dumped on the desk. A spread of soup and sandwiches sat on it, the king sitting in one of the chairs, waiting. Val was hit with a pang of nostalgia, because this set up looked exactly like the ones they had during campaign season. She didn’t know if he did it deliberately or if this was just how he ran his life.
“Afternoon, Val,” he said with a smile. “I see you have your tracker now.”
“And potential execution device,” she added dryly.
He shrugged. “Only a stupid person would need to worry about the electric shock and you are not stupid.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
He smiled again, ignoring her sarcasm. “Have a seat.”
She reluctantly joined him and helped herself to a sandwich, knowing this whole charade was just to watch her eat. Rook did not join them, preferring to lean against the wall next to the king. It felt a little unnerving to eat under both of their stares but she knew there’d be hell to pay if she didn’t.
And she had to admit, the food was painfully delicious.  
“You now control the lock on your door,” the king said (Aris? It still didn’t feel right but neither did Eugene). “You may stay or leave your room as you please. All unlocked areas of the castle are open to you, as well as the grounds. If you wish to head into the city, Rook will escort you.”
Rook’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You cannot be serious! I babysit her enough as it is and you want me to take her out for ice cream and shopping? Who is protecting you while I run bullshit errands with her?”
“Hey! Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I have a shopping addiction,” she snapped.
“Like you wouldn’t jump at the chance to blow all the king’s treasury just to fuck us over.”
“What the hell am I going to be buying to drain it — a super yacht?”
“Children, please.” The king — Aris — held up a hand. “It’s not an ideal situation for any of us, but the two of you will have to give each other a little faith.”
Val and Rook let out twin snorts of derision and then shot each other matching glares.
“As I was saying,” Aris said with a warning look, “you have been given a probationary amount of freedom, Val.”
“Probationary?” So this was temporary?
“Yes. Your privileges will change depending on your actions. If you stay obedient, prove yourself, then you freedoms will grow. If you try to circumvent your restrictions, you will lose your freedoms and live in a cell much less cozy than the rooms I’ve given you.”
Obedient. Like a toddler. Like a dog. 
Not for the first time did helpless rage well up in her throat like acid. So many retorts and screams crowded her mouth that it rendered her speechless, unable to choose which to say first and terrified to say any of them.
Eug— Aris — looked at her in such smug satisfaction, as if proud of himself for bestowing a phenomenal gift. If Rook wasn’t in the room, Val could have hit him. Her fingers curled in on themselves to fight the temptation regardless.
“Do you have any questions?” Aris tilted his head slightly, studying her.
She used to love having his full attention on her — something made rare and precious because of his busy schedule and bouts of scatterbrained day dreaming. Right now it made her skin crawl, adding fuel to the feeling of constantly being under surveillance, never able to relax.
“Can I go now?” she asked tightly.
His gaze ducked down to her half-eaten lunch. “You haven’t finished your food.”
The rage leaped up, like a kerosene drenched campfire. She felt reckless and wild with it and without a second thought, flipped her plate off the table to watch it shatter to the floor, food spraying over the lush carpet.
“I’m done,” she said. “Now?”
She had no idea what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever Aris saw on it made him sit back in his seat.
“Yes,” he said slowly, warily. “Of course.”
Val stood so far that her chair fell backwards. “Thank you,” she bit out, dripping venom, before striding out the door.
She had no idea where she was headed, and she didn’t care. Val picked a direction and walked as fast as she could towards it. If it led her to a so-called restricted section of the palace, then maybe that would put her out of her misery.
The padded footsteps sound too close and too late to react before a hand grabbed her shoulder. Val whirled around, fist striking out in pure instinct at the warm body behind her. In less than a second, that body gripped her wrist and shoved her against the wall of the hallway.
Rook.
Of course.
“Someone is very cranky today,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.
“Let me go,” she snarled, pushing ineffectively against him.
Rook complied, releasing the bruising grip on her wrist and taking a wide step back, hands up in mock surrender.
“Not many people can scare the king, but I think you managed it just then,” he said.
“What the hell do you want? You have a tracker now. You don’t need to stalk me anymore.”
“We never finished our tour. I wouldn’t want you wandering somewhere you shouldn’t and getting electrocuted on your first day.”
“I’ll figure it out on my own, thanks.”
Rook gave her that same kind of stare Aris did — an assessment. Complete with head tilt. They must spend a lot of time together.
“You’re very angry for someone who was just given a significant amount of freedom that they quite frankly don’t deserve,” he said slowly.
She gave him a poisonous look. “I am not talking about this with you.”
And now that smirk again. “Thank god. I’m not paid to be a feelings person. But I think I know what you need.”
“A long walk off a tall cliff?”
He snorted. “Tempting. But no. Follow me and find out.”
It was probably a stupid decision to follow the most untrustworthy person she’d ever met, but having more opportunities to hate Rook offered her a welcome distraction. So, against all sanity, Val followed him down to an elevator and watched him push the basement button.
“Is that where you keep the torture chambers?” she asked, half joking, half . . .not joking.
“Sometimes it feels that way,” he muttered back.
The elevator dinged and opened to gleaming wooden floors and bright lights. It looked like the reception of a swanky business more than a typical basement. Down a short hallway sat an interior room lined with windows and inside sat various mats, weights, and other equipment.
“You brought me to the gym?” she asked dubiously.
“Yep.”
He made a bee line to a tall metal cabinet and pulled out boxing gloves. “Catch.”
Too fast for her to react, they hit Val square in the face and fell to the floor. She sent him another glare as he snickered before bending down to pick them up.
“You want me to hit something?”
Which actually sounded great, come to think of it.
“I want you to hit me.”
Oh even fucking better.
It felt too good to be true. But Val watched as he pulled out two wide padded circles and fitted them over his palms before he stepped onto one of the mats.
“You gonna put them on or are you chickening out?”
She yanked them onto her hands, their weight surprisingly heavy and then followed him onto the mat.
Rook held up his hands in the mock surrender pose.
“Hit these as hard as you can.”
“You’re serious?” She eyed him dubiously. “What if I hit you in the face?”
“You won’t.”
“You sure? It seems real tempting.”
He grinned. “The day you land a hit on me, I’ll smuggle you back home myself.”
As much as she wanted to deck his face, Val knew a trap when she heard one. Instead, she followed his instructions, landing a blow square against the right hand pad.
He didn’t even budge.
“Come on, Val, I know that’s not all you got. You were so full of rage earlier. Don’t tell me it left already.”
Oh, it didn’t. But she felt nervous putting her full effort in. Either it would hurt him and he’d make her pay or it would be pathetic and he’d mock her.
“You can’t laugh,” she said.
“Oh, I’m going to laugh. Now fucking hit me already.”
She took a deep breath and then slammed her fist against the pad with all her might. He never lost his footing, but she was pleased to see his body sway a fraction.
“Much better. I knew you had it in you. Do it again.”
“What’s the point of this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Stress relief. I love hitting things when I’m mad. And if you’re hitting me then you’re not hitting my king. So come on, Val. Give me everything you’ve got.”
He asked and she delivered. Val channeled all the injustice, the fear, the grief that the last week had brought her into her fists, driving them over and over into Rook’s padded hands. She didn’t stop, not when her arms started to shake, not when sweat soaked her back, not when a lancing pain hit her shoulder with each impact. It was mindless violence with no victim and it blocked out everything else.
“Ok, okay, Val. That’s enough.”
His voice echoed distantly and she dismissed it instantly. He took a step back and she chased him. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her arms against her sides.
“That’s enough Val,” he said in her ear.
She was breathing like a winded rhinoceros, her chest burning with it. But with each slowed breath, exhaustion threaded itself through her limbs and tugged. Eventually she slumped against his chest, happy to let him take all the weight of her. Even then he did not budge.
She was too tired to be angry now.
“Your form is absolute dog shit,” he said, his grip cautiously loosening. “But you have some potential. I could train you, if you wanted.”
“Train me?” With supreme effort, she pulled away from and turned to face him. “Train me in what?”
“Boxing. Mixed martial arts. Basic self defense. You can have your pick.”
“You want to teach me how to fight?” She crossed her arms. “Is this some kind of trap? What’s the catch?”
He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no catch. It would get you in shape, get your mind off things. Give you some sense of control.”
“And then I could use it against you.”
He had the gall to laugh at that, head thrown back. “Not in a million fucking years.”
“You think I could never be a threat to you?” Now she felt insulted. “Is it because I’m a woman?”
Rook rolled his eyes. “The scariest people I’ve ever met have been women. But a few weeks or months of the basics is never going to match years of intensive training. If you ever manage to hit me, it’s because I let you for your pride.”
He held out his hands for her gloves and she pulled them off with surprising reluctance.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the way back to your room. You need a shower.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
But a tiny flicker of gratitude wormed its way through her chest as she followed him back to the elevator. The exercise had cleared her head. She felt soothed, the tightness in her chest dissipated. Rook undoubtedly had ulterior motives for helping her, but he still could have let her drown in her own rage until she did something stupid that he’d gleefully punish her for.
Instead he gave her a much needed outlet.
She didn’t know how to feel about that.
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ichorai · 2 years
Text
amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)
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track two of BROKEN MACHINE.
pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader
synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.
words ; 4.7k
themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy
warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him
main masterlist.
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The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout. 
“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.
Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle. 
Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready. 
“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.
The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through. 
“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him. 
And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips. 
The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie. 
Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were. 
The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach. 
“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”
Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes. 
His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.
“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”
Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong. 
Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.
The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.
“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”
The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath. 
“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically. 
The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”
Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep. 
“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”
Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”
Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude. 
“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”
Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale. 
“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”
“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.
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Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.
“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”
Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince. 
“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him. 
Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic. 
“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”
“Jace,” he softly said.
You blinked at him. “Pardon?”
Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”
A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet. 
“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”
You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself. 
Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing. 
Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you. 
“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.
Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”
Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”
To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”
“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame. 
Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room. 
You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.
The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.
“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”
Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”
“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”
Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”
You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”
“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”
“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. “That would mean the world to me, it really would.”
The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread. 
“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”
At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened. 
He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”
You nodded, eyes wide. 
“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you. 
“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…” 
Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours. 
The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift. 
Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.
And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you. 
It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else. 
Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.
“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall. 
With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.
Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner. 
The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.
“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”
His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.
“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.
The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent. 
You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.
Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.
And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.
“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed. 
Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”
A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.
“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck. 
His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.
A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.
“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted. 
Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need. 
His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.
“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.
“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit. 
Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.
Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”
Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure. 
“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure. 
He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. 
“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.
Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.
“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”
“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.” 
Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.
“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”
“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock. 
He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust. 
You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit. 
The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream. 
Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.
Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses. 
He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.
Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.
You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids. 
“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”
You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.
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The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone. 
Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?
Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before. 
Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.
My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven.  Yours, Jace
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harmeu · 14 days
Text
HOW DO THEY REACT TO THEIR S/O SMILING GENUINELY FOR THE FIRST TIME?
(GN!Reader)
(Izek, Cardan Greenbriar, Apollo, Edgar Allan Poe)
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IZEK (How to get my Husband on My Side):
You were known as one of the coldest people in the Empire. It was ironic since your husband Izek was also known for being unkind and unfeeling. Yet both of you sparked an odd romance. As soon as Izek gave his first smile after you had done something caring for him, your heart thumped.
Though no expression was seen on your face since you were just like that since childhood.
Izek had given the idea of a date in the street's night market to have some genuine bonding time since he was always so busy as the heir to the Omerta.
“Are you enjoying the bread?” He murmured out smiling down at you as you stuffed your face in the bread, the flavours exploding in your mouth.
“Mmmhmm..” Your voice was muffled as you replied, making Izek flush and chuckle ruffling your hair with clear affection in his gaze.
“It's endearing how you get so happy over the smallest of things. Even if I can’t see it on your face-” He got cut off and hitched as he saw you smile down at the food. Izeks felt his heart race a million times per second. You were beautiful. Like a flower commencing its bloom for its first time.
You tilt your head as you see Izeks dazed expression and tilted your head confused.
“Something happen?”
Izek stared and kissed your forehead with a heavy blush on his face.
“You happened.”
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CARDAN GREENBRIAR (The Cruel Prince):
Let's just say..you and Cardan meeting for the first time was NOT ideal. Considering you were mortal and he was Fae. Anything but lovely. And you had vowed to despise that man for as long as you lived. But that all changed as you two exchanged a kiss after you literally kidnapped him. And then they said love is dead.
Cardan was still that sassy and snarky boy you first met. Just softer and spoke his mind more often. It was nice.
You even got him to smile before yourself which was funny since he was known as being the Cruel Prince.
A quiet night where you sat in Cardans bed noticing him laid down, his tail swaying and his long fingernails tracing your round ears with clear love but heavy sass as he tilted your head up with a sly smile.
“You keep staring. Am I that breathtaking?” He whispers out holding your chin tighter, the nail digging into your skin. Not enough to hurt but to make you feel the pressure.
“Yes.” You say truthfully staring at him with an unbreaking gaze making him let go of your chin clearly not expecting such a blunt reply. His Fae ears go a tint of red earning a small genuine smile to appear on your lips proud of yourself for making the rude prince fluster.
His whole body stilled as he saw your expression. He stared and stared and you had to give a reply from how intense he was looking at you.
“Is there something on my face? Or am I merely that breathtaking?” You muttered out using his own words against him making a small scowl appear on his lips though it softened eventually.
“There is something on your face.” He went from tracing your ears to your now lifted lips.
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APOLLO (Record of Ragnarok):
Weirdly enough you and the narcissistic being Apollo became a couple! It was shocking when you accepted just expecting him to cheat right away but he remained..loyal? Everyday as soon as you’d wake up you would be bombarded with gifts, flowers, jewelry, all kinds of things any person would desire from a partner of theirs. 
You just didn’t expect him to be the one doing such things. 
You two were polar opposites. You were stoic and expressionless while Apollo brought in the dramatics. It was like a comedy show when you two had a conversation.
Currently you two were in Apollo very many hot springs casually bathing and you pinched Apollo everytime he tried to nuzzle into you in the water. 
“Seriously..why not cuddle with a lavish man like me?” He crossed his arms sulking.
You sigh at his behaviour but before you can say more Apollo splashed the water right in your face expecting you to get angry so he could get his revenge. Though all that came out of you was heavy laughter and a smile.
At this point Apollo just froze calculating what he just saw.
His fingertips trembled and as you stopped laughing you gave a confused look to his quietness.
“Somet-” Apollo crashed his lips right onto yours. Your voice muffles and you flush gasping for breath after the kiss and glare at the man in front of you.
“What was that for..” You narrow your gaze trying to get your heartrate to a normal pace after that whole thing.
“Can’t I kiss my dear spouse?”
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EDGAR ALLAN POE (Bungo Stray Dogs): 
Being quiet and stoic and your beloved being an absolute fluster machine was oddly a contrast that went well. After Poe spilled his feelings outside in a garden you had accepted making the already red man redder.
Poe was an intelligent man at that and you always loved listening to his stories despite your face not showing much. Your actions showed plenty.
Currently Poe was vigorously writing on paper his Raccoon Karl sitting on his shoulder. You went behind him hugging him making the man flinch and soon redden as he realized it was you.
“O-oh darling it's just you..” He whispered out soon smiling as he felt you cling heavier and rubbed your head gently.
“You better not be overworking again.” You say leaning and picking up his hair to see his eyes.
“This novel is near due! I have to finish it by tonight!” Poe said his foot on the table with extra dramatic effects as he clenched his fist and continued writing.
“How about paying attention to me?” You drawled out, making him freeze.
You chuckle at his reaction earning a small smile to grace your lips.
If it was even possible Poe went into tomato mode staring at you hard as he saw your unexpected smile happen. His heart was screaming inside.
You notice his bashful face and pinch his cheek.
“You got even redder.”  You said in a hushed whisper used to him going a blushing mess over anything but this time it seemed just more.
“It's because of that smile.” 
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reaper2187 · 3 months
Text
Malenia x female reader
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The battlefield lay in ruin, a tapestry of smoldering remains and broken weapons. The air was thick with the scent of ash and iron, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. Amidst the desolation, the figure of Malenia, Blade of Miquella, stood resolute, her crimson hair flowing like a banner of war. Her presence commanded both awe and fear, a testament to her prowess as the mightiest warrior of the Lands Between.
Across the field, you pushed through the debris, the weight of your armor a familiar burden. As a soldier sworn to serve the Golden Order, you had faced countless foes, but none like her. Malenia was a legend, a figure whispered about in tales of valor and doom. Your heart pounded in your chest, not from fear, but from the thrill of the challenge and the undeniable pull you felt towards her.
You had crossed paths with her before, each encounter a dance of blades and blood. There was a respect that had grown between you, forged in the fires of battle. Today, however, the air was different. There was a sense of finality, a culmination of all the battles you had fought side by side, and against each other.
As you approached, Malenia turned, her golden eyes locking onto yours. There was a flicker of recognition, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft but carried the weight of authority.
"You are persistent," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone.
You couldn't help but smile beneath your helm. "And you are relentless."
Malenia's gaze softened slightly, the edges of her lips curling into a rare smile. "What drives you, soldier? Why do you continue to seek me out?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You removed your helm, letting the cool air brush against your skin. Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, the battlefield faded away, leaving just the two of you.
"I seek a purpose," you replied, your voice steady. "In the chaos of this world, I have found none more worthy than you."
Malenia's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and contemplation. She stepped closer, her armor glinting in the dim light. "Purpose is a fleeting thing," she murmured. "But if you find it in me, then perhaps our paths are not so different."
The words hung between you, a fragile bridge spanning the gap between your worlds. You took a step forward, closing the distance, your heart racing with each beat. "Fight with me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not as enemies, but as allies."
Malenia's eyes searched yours, the weight of her decision clear in the silence that followed. Finally, she nodded, a single, decisive motion. "Very well," she said. "But know this, soldier: my loyalty is hard-won and easily lost. Prove yourself to me, and we shall see where this alliance leads."
A surge of determination filled you, and you nodded in return. Together, you turned to face the remnants of the battlefield, the promise of a new dawn glowing faintly on the horizon. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, you felt a sense of purpose that burned brighter than any flame.
The days that followed were a blur of motion and steel. You and Malenia fought side by side, your movements synchronized in a deadly dance. Each battle was a test, not just of your skill, but of your bond. Slowly, the walls between you began to crumble, replaced by a growing understanding and respect.
In the quiet moments between battles, you found yourselves talking, sharing stories of your pasts, your hopes, and fears. Malenia spoke of her brother, Miquella, and the curse that had bound her to an eternal struggle. You shared your own tales, the losses and victories that had shaped you into the warrior you were.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in a warm, golden glow, you found yourselves by a small campfire. The flickering flames cast shadows on Malenia's face, highlighting the delicate features that belied her strength.
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like?" you asked, your voice soft in the stillness.
Malenia looked at you, curiosity in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"To live a life without war," you replied. "To find peace, even if only for a moment."
Malenia's gaze shifted to the fire, her expression thoughtful. "It is a distant dream," she said quietly. "But perhaps not impossible."
The silence that followed was comfortable, a shared understanding passing between you. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Malenia reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a spark through you, a connection that felt as real as any battle you had fought.
You turned your hand, entwining your fingers with hers. The gesture was simple, yet profound, a promise of something more. Malenia's eyes met yours, and in that moment, words were unnecessary. The bond you had forged in battle had grown into something deeper, a connection that transcended the chaos of the world around you.
As the night deepened and the stars appeared overhead, you sat together by the fire, your hands still clasped. The future was uncertain, filled with challenges and dangers yet to come. But for now, in this quiet moment, you found solace in each other, a brief respite from the storm.
And in that fleeting peace, you dared to hope for a future where your paths would remain intertwined, where the bond you had forged in the fires of war would become a beacon of light in the darkness.
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hothothotch · 1 year
Note
Heeey ! I have a Hotch request 😄
Context: she’s one of his first case, some young girl who hacked the Pentagone to make a point to a teacher that you don’t have to be good in class to be a genius in something. They try to arrest her but she didn’t did anything just enter their server and disconnect. But all the way into interrogation she flirts with him. They let her go and he sees her a couple years later?
I don’t know how to end this, but yeah just a thing I got in my head for a while 🥹
hey! i loved writing this one and, again, i want a part two of it, so maybe you should expect one haha. i hope you like it, anon <3
Requests are open!
1991
"I'll plead the fifth in this one..." you smirked up at Agent Hotchner, batting your eyes seductively — or as seductively as you believed you could be — as you observed him through your eyelashes, "And I'm very good at pleading, just so you know".
Aaron didn't react visibly, even though the urge to roll his eyes was definitely there. After a few minutes of interrogation (probably ten, but he wasn't sure, since you were a delight to hear — ironically speaking), Aaron had lost count of how many flirtatious comments you had thrown at him, the situation way more annoying considering that his boss, SSA Gideon, was sitting by his side, observing everything with as neutral as an expression he could have, clearly as unamused as Aaron.
"Oh, come on!" you groaned, clearly unpleased with Aaron's lack of response to your flirt, "You can laugh, right? There's nowhere on your contract saying 'FBI Agents have to be stiff and serious, even the hot ones'!".
"I don't usually laugh when interrogating someone" Aaron replied, opening up the file he had in front of him to read your name out loud, "Much less when they invade the Pentagon's system".
You tried to bit back the proud smile that showed up on your face at the acknowledgment of what you've done — you highly doubted one of those Agents would clap their hands at your achievement, and still you'd rather face them than your parents, that were probably fuming on their way to the Bureau.
If SSA Hotchner and Gideon's faces were the last things you'd see for the rest of your life (that probably wouldn't be as long as you once thought it would), you might as well fall in style.
"That was impressive, wasn't it?" you asked, your voice clearly smug as you leaned against your chair, "I'm really good at that!".
"Not that much" SSA Gideon intervened, "I can name a few hackers that can do the same".
You raised one brow in defiance, trying to mask the way his words had evidently hurt your ego, "I didn't say I'm unique, I said I'm impressive. There's a difference" you pointed in a matter-of-factly way, before turning back at Agent Hotchner, "From now on, I'm only answering your questions, pretty boy".
"It's Agent Hotchner".
You chuckled, "Okay" you nodded curtly, "Pretty Agent Hotchner boy".
That time you saw the way he reacted, his body language denouncing you was starting to frustrate him. If you didn't know it was overstepping — more than you've already overstepped — you probably would make a joke about how you could help him with his frustration, but you weren't really into going to jail over harassment.
Trying to exhaust his patience was one thing. Crossing the line between amusement and crime was something you didn't want to do.
Oh, yeah. You had hacked into the Pentagon.
"Okay, look..." you started, straightening your pose on your chair, grimacing when the metal of the cuffs (an unnecessary accessory, if you will) skimmed on your skin, a clear indicative that you'd soon have a new bruise at that spot, "I've hacked into the Pentagon, true" she directed a pointed look at Gideon, rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm aware there are a lot of other hackers that can pull that out, but I had a point to make!".
"Which was?" Aaron questioned, his eyes still trained on you. With a quick look to his hand, you noticed he was wearing a wedding band — golden, brilliant; he was probably freshly married. You questioned if he looked at his wife in that intimidating way, or if it was reserved to people like you, or that he judged to be like you.
You took a deep breath, leaning against your chair, "I'm graduating on MIT" you started explaining, even if you knew they could find that information on your file, and that they probably already knew that, considering you'd been smart enough to hack into the Pentagon from your college's computer, but not enough to hide your tracks, "And I was unlucky enough not to get good grades at this specific subject, and my teacher made a point to humiliate me in front of everyone. So I made a point in showing her that while she's theoretically smart, I'm technically smart".
The single raise of Agent Hotchner's brow was enough to reveal what he was thinking about you after your explanation — that you were a spoiled child, that you couldn't have things any other way except for yours, that he could have you arrested solely by how bad your reasoning had been.
"Yeah, pretty Agent Hotchner boy..." you crossed your arms in front of your body, "Not everyone is born with everything on a silver plate, y'know? My attention is not as good as it was supposed to be".
Aaron switched a quick glance with Gideon, his demeanor betraying nothing as they kept their eyes locked for a few minutes, expectation suddenly building on your body along with the urge to pick at your nails, an anxious behavior you had.
"Let her go" Agent Gideon finally said, standing up from his chair, turning his back on you both to walk out of the interrogation room.
"What?" you squealed in confusion, placing the palms of your hands on top of the metallic desk you had between Agent Hotchner and you, "That's all?".
Aaron hummed in agreement, standing up to grab the cuff keys' in his pockets, his hands brushing with yours for a second, and you could swear there was a sudden electricity on that touch, causing you to push your hand away.
He looked up at you with one brow raised again, his voice a bit more humored now, "What? You want to be arrested?".
"You arrested me, pretty Agent Hotchner boy" you reminded, shaking your cuffed hands, "And while I think being cuffed is sexy, I can't wait to remove those. They're hurting my pulse".
"You should've told us, we'd lose it a bit" he shrugged, opening the lock expertly, before sitting on the desk, "You only logged into the system and turned it off. We can't arrest you for turning the computers off, so you're free to go".
You faced him for a while more, trying to find something to say, maybe a snarky remark — a joke? But nothing came to mind. So you only nodded, standing up from the chair with a smile.
"So off I go" you told him, massaging your pulses, "Guess we won't see each other again, pretty Agent Hotchner boy".
Aaron shook his head, crossing his arms, "I hope not".
"Ouch" you put your hand over your chest dramatically, "You wound me, honey. Hope you don't miss me too much".
Aaron finally allowed himself to roll his eyes, standing up from the desk to walk toward the door, "It won't be a problem".
...
2011
You were honestly — and positively — surprised when the message arrived in your inbox, the (a rather last minute) white invitation warming your heart in a way you didn't think it would.
JJ and Will were getting married.
It was a surprise not because you thought you wouldn't be invited, but because you didn't think it would happen at all; the last time you and JJ talked (only a year prior to that date), the woman had been pretty straightforward about not being ready to get married, even if Will clearly was. You were surprised to know that he supported her and it wasn't an issue, even though JJ sometimes complained about how they ended up fighting over the topic.
You were happy they finally got to an agreement. And even happier that their agreement gave her an excuse to leave her house, even for only a few hours.
"You look beautiful!" you stated once you spotted JJ on the dancefloor, bringing her for a hug when she finally recognized you.
"I can't believe you're here!" JJ held you against her body happily, and you could feel her smile on your shoulder as she rocked you from side to side, "I thought you were in Paris!".
You nodded when she pulled back, allowing you to move and embrace Will, that had a similar smile on his face, "I was. But the Pentagon called me back and I was forced to come back. Which is a loss, because I was starting to get used with the accent. And the paycheck".
Will shook his head, laughing at your last comment, "I'm sure Interpol will be missing a great Agent".
"That they will" you nodded eagerly, playfully throwing your hair over your shoulder, "I was their jewel, and now they have nothing. But I'm happy to be back home. Will be even happier when I find a good house for me, since I've sold my old house".
"Oh, that's your lucky day!" JJ commented, immediately taking your hand in hers, already guiding you through the dancefloor to a table where a few people were gathered, laughing at something one of them had said, "My friends' neighbor just passed away, and their old apartment is vacant. Maybe you can rent it".
You smiled, ready to give JJ an answer when you looked at the table again, your eyes widening at the sight of one man in the middle of the group. You froze in your place when you recognized him, your jaw slightly dropped when your eyes met, recognition clearly passing through his eyes as well.
You heard JJ saying your name, and you were fairly aware that she was introducing you to the group, though the only name you managed to hear was, "This is Aaron Hotchner, my boss, and friend".
Boss. It was curious — last time you've seen Agent Hotchner (or pretty Agent Hotchner boy, as you once called him), he was an Agent working under Jason Gideon's supervision.
Ten years had gone by, though. A lot had changed. You, to begin with.
"Oh, huh... hi!" you waved at the group, trying to pretend you had gathered any of their names, "JJ was telling me that one of you had a neighbor who had passed and may have an apartment free for me?".
Aaron — who seemed to be on a trance just as you'd been in the past few seconds — cleared his throat at your question, trying to brush away the embarrassment of how you kept looking at each other. If someone in his group noticed, though, none of them made a comment about it.
"That would be me" he stated, and you held the urge to mutter an 'of course that is', "Maybe we can talk—".
"On the dancefloor" the old man beside him suggested, nudging Aaron slightly with a mischievous smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his drink (whiskey, you deduced), "Do you like to dance?".
"Very much" you nodded, directing your response at the man who asked the question, but your eyes were focused on Aaron, "That's one of my technical skills".
If there was any doubt to Aaron that you remembered him, this doubt fade away at that exact moment — and you noticed it by the way his body language immediately changed, going from an almost nervous one to a more relaxed one.
"I guess you can show me, then" Aaron offered his hand to you, a smile appearing on his face when you immediately accepted it, guiding you back to the dancefloor, "Let's just try and not be arrested tonight, okay?".
You snorted, patting on his shoulder when the song turned into a slower one, and your eyes met one more time before you replied, "I won't make any promises".
Thank you for your request ✨
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mamayan · 1 year
Note
20, 92, 52, 99
Could you do this with Douma and a fem reader pretty please? Also very many congratulations!
Bang! … No bullet was shot—
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Douma
“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” || Taste of Iron || Size || Praise/Worship
tw: NSFW • Biting (Blood play) • Rough Sex • Corruption K!nk • NONCON • Douma doesn’t stfu • Bondage
wc: 1086
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“Ah~ really though, there’s nothing more wonderful than when you’re like this for me,” his voice was a soothing purr as he trails one cold hand up the smooth expanse of your thigh.
Luminescent rainbow eyes gazed down at your fragile figure tied and helpless. A pretty silk gag knotted and slotted into your mouth prevents any retorts.
“My most naughty little follower, are you enjoying this?” He wasn’t truly asking to hear your answer, more fixated on how much he was enjoying this. He could feel it, the blood and vitality rushing through your veins as adrenaline pumped and kept you acutely aware of every touch he placed on you. The fear and clarity in your gaze which the majority of his cult never figured out until it was far far too late.
You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and sadly, that meant you couldn’t be allowed to separate and mingle without him.
Tears flow down your cheeks as you struggle, bound and powerless under the beautiful male.
He was a fraud. A liar. A monster.
None of it mattered now, not when he’d sunken his claws too deeply into your family and friends to save them. You couldn’t even save yourself it seemed.
“Don’t cry sweet thing~ I’m not going to eat you~” yet, his smile was disarming, blatantly lying to your pretty face as he coos and hushes you.
“You’ve always been my favorite, you know? It makes me so sad to think about harming you, so we’ll do something else instead, okay~♡?” The cute way he spoke didn’t match Douma’s large body as he discarded his top, muscular unblemished figure on display.
He easily settled between your spread thighs, enjoying the view of your dripping pussy while you silently begged for mercy. “Such a shame I had to muffle your cute voice…” he laments to himself, nuzzling your soft inner thigh with his face and enjoying the texture of your skin. “I kind of want to hear you scream for me but, oh well,” he gives no warning before his sharp teeth are sinking into the flesh of your thigh, your pained squeal silenced by the fabric stuffed into your mouth. Douma delights in the blood and mark on your body, his mark, as he laps up the small rivers leaking from the puncture wounds he’d given. “Shh, no need to cry, I just wanted a taste,” he giggles, beautiful blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at his handiwork. His large hands shift, moving to your exposed cunt where he uses two fingers to spread your folds and reveal your small wet hole.
“I just knew you’d like this~!” You flinch away from the image above you, his lips stained with your blood, sharp canines on display as he grins.
He pays no mind to your repulsion, soon you’d come to like the blood as he did, he just needed to show you why it all felt so good.
“Y/N, sorry, I’ll prepare you much better next time, but I want to see you bleed a little more me, yeah? You’ll be a good girl won’t you?” Douma ignores the shake of your head, the clear useless struggle you attempt against your bindings. Instead, he loosens his belt and allows his pants to drop past his upper thighs, releasing his hardened cock.
“I promise it’ll feel good after a bit, just be patient.” He assures, voice so calm and patient compared to your panic and trembling body. “Your pussy is so cute Y/N, tiny like you, it might hurt a bit.” You imagine it’s going to hurt more than a bit as he lines himself up with your quivering unprepared entrance. The thick blunt head pressed and kissing you, pre-cum leaking freely from his tip, the only lubricant he’s offering as he presses forward.
You jerk, unable to voice the pressure overwhelming you as he takes you, mind going hazy with the burn and sensations forced upon you.
“Oh my, hng,” his head goes back, muscles tensing and flexing as he moans. “This hole is pretty naughty too, hm?” He gasps, voice strained for the first time all evening, “You’re so tight, it’s like you're sucking me in.”
He laughs when he realizes you’re nearly passed out, sweet features languid and drool soaking through the gag as you whine deep in your throat. He doesn’t stop, thick cock spearing you open as he rocks and slicks himself up with your arousal and blood from his initial cruel entrance.
“My cute little follower, it’s almost like you’re worshiping my cock now right? Isn’t it a dream come true for you?” He’s gleeful as he begins dragging along inside of your walls, rocking you with how heavy each thrust is. He delights in your struggle to resist, but it’s clear you’re falling quickly to the feeling of fullness and pleasure as your passage becomes wetter with each slap of his pelvis against you.
“Good girl, you don’t need to do a thing, just feel good for me.” You don’t have a choice as he fucks you sensesless, eyes rolling back as you cum around him with a silent shout. His hips don’t stop, only his moans and nails digging into your hips increase while he works himself deep and hard into you, savoring the scent of iron in the air while blood smears on his lower half and cock.
“Ah, you came right? How cute,” he coos, loving your cock drunk appearance juxtaposed to your earlier fear and revulsion of him. “You’re pathetic, you know that right? Do you still want me to stop?” He chuckles, hand reaching up and untying the gag, pulling the dripping wad of fabric out of your mouth. “Answer me quickly, do you still want me to stop?” He asks, voice deepening as he rams the head of his cock against an area that has you wailing.
“L-Lord Do-Douma please—!” He twists one of your nipples harshly, loving the pretty arch your back makes as you clench and spasm around him again.
“That’s not an answer~” he coos, your pretty eyes unfocused as you drool and babble after your orgasm.
“Don’t—! Don’t stop! Fuck me! Please!” You’re quick to lose yourself, pleasure consuming you as he rocks you on his cock and thumbs your clit with a smug grin.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, glad he doesn’t have to kill you earlier than he’d planned.
You are his favorite after all.
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