#Ironically the skin on my face is very clear

[callsign-rogueone]

bruised, but not broken

Sawyer Henrick x reader (peach!) words: 2.0k 🏷: pt5 for sawyer and peach, very mild iron flame spoilers, mild descriptions of injury, soft sleepy sawyer <3 (he's concussed and needs to be held, okay), second squad makes another appearance, peach has a mouth on her, peach getting distracted by his muscles, more will-they-won't-they (they will eventually, I promise), two updates in two days! that's a record for me. ok byeee

Tomorrow comes and goes with no sight of Sawyer or his friends. 

He wouldn’t have forgotten about you, especially not after all that ordeal yesterday with that piece of parchment that’s still burning a hole in your bookbag. Maybe they’re just busy training.

Yeah. Extra flight time, or something. Or they’re out in the woods again. But wouldn’t they have a healer with them, then? None of the third years are unaccounted for. Maybe the second time they send them without a healer, to make it more difficult — not that you really did anything for them when you were there, besides figure out that the two maps were different. 

You probably weren’t supposed to do that, but after passing by the same tree four times, it became abundantly clear to you that most of these city kids had never spent any time in the woods, and you just couldn’t help yourself.

You bring a hand up to hold the little flower charm between your fingers, taking a breath. He’s fine. He has to be fine. Just crack your knuckles and say a prayer, and he’ll be fine. 

The infirmary being full really isn’t helping you relax right now, either. Not when half of the patients are infantry cadets who have just returned from four days of camping in the woods, and James and his twin idiots could walk in at any time. You’ve had it up to here with one of them in particular, who has been mouthing off about how long he’s been waiting to be checked out for a tiny cut on his arm that would need one stitch, if any.

“They’ll get to you when they get to you, but keep whining like that and I will personally make sure you’re the last one to be seen today.” He starts to protest, but you cut him off. “Do I make myself clear?” you ask more firmly. He nods, looking sufficiently embarrassed. “Good. Now sit your ass down, and treat me and my classmates with some respect.”

The squad exchanges a look. “Has she always been like that?” Ridoc asks in a whisper.

“Only when I did something really stupid,” Sawyer replies, his eyes not leaving you. “I haven't seen her that mad since I pretended to drown in the river when we were sixteen.”

“That wasn’t funny then and it still isn’t now,” you chide, turning to face them. Your jaw drops at the sight of the two boys — and Rhiannon, too — all looking battered and bruised. 

“It’s worse than it looks,” Ridoc reassures, giving you a smile that stretches the purpling bruise on his left cheek.

“He means that it looks worse than it is,” Violet corrects from his side. She appears unscathed, but looks exhausted to the bone.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You point down the hallway. “All of you, exam room, now.” The infantry cadet opens his mouth, but you silence him with your stare. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you, kid.”

You exhale deeply as soon as the door is closed behind the five of you. “Sorry. It’s been a day.”

“All good,” Ridoc supplies. 

“Her first,” both of the boys say in unison, looking at Rhiannon. She doesn’t protest, sitting down in front of you and stripping off her flight jacket so you can take a proper look. 

The first thing you notice is that both of her wrists are circled with patches of raw, irritated skin. “What did they do to you, tie you up?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Handcuffs.”

“For what purpose?”

“Top secret rider stuff,” Ridoc answers around a yawn, and you see an identical mark on him as he lifts his hand to cover his mouth. “Torture training. But we broke ourselves out, ‘cause we’re the best.”

“Gods above,” you swear. “I don’t know how half of what they do to you guys is legal.”

“It really isn’t,” Violet answers tiredly, “but we signed up for it.”

It still doesn’t sit right with you, but you can’t do anything to change it. All you can do is keep patching them up the best you can.

“Ridoc, can you…”

“Gotcha.” He takes the small bowl from you, holding it under the tap, and the flow of water turns into several small chunks of ice.

“Thanks.”

He hums in response, taking one for himself and holding it to the split on his cheekbone.

“What’s your date of birth?” Violet asks quietly, pen in hand. She’d managed to swipe a handful of intake sheets off the counter without you noticing, and is sitting in the corner, dutifully filling them in for you. Scribe habits die hard, you suppose. Nobody will care as long as it’s your signature at the bottom certifying everything, especially when you’re so short-handed and the leadership has a dozen more important things to do than check it.

Ridoc looks deeply offended. “Ow, dude. You don’t know my birthday?” 

“April 23rd,” Sawyer answers for him, not looking up. He’s definitely got some sort of concussion — the unfocused look in his eyes and his unusually quiet, slow-blinking demeanor give it away.

“See? Somebody knows.”

“Only because you made a ginormous deal about it.”

“Excuse me for wanting to celebrate still being alive!”

The room falls silent. You’ve only heard a few things about their squadmates that had passed, but it’s obvious that they were all deeply affected by the losses.

“I didn't mean…” 

“We know,” Violet says gently, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s okay.”

There’s another moment of quiet before you pull back, assessing your work. “I think that’s about all I can do.”

“Thank you. It feels a lot better already.”

The squad sits quietly, not saying anything as you patch up Ridoc, then turn to Sawyer. “You guys can head back without me,” he says quietly. There’s a moment of hesitation from the others, but they exchange a look and silently decide it’s okay. 

“For the road,” you say, handing them each a tin of bruise salve and a small bottle of pain tonic — and some more stretchy bandages for Violet. “Get some rest if you can.”

They take their leave quietly, thanking you, and shut the door behind them, leaving just you, Sawyer, half a bowl of ice, and the pile of neatly written paperwork. He slowly gets up, moving to sit on the edge of the table — almost at eye level with you now. “Hi,” you say softly.

“Hi.” He’s struggling to keep his eyes open, blinking at you slowly.

You cradle his jaw in one hand, tilting his head up so you can look at his pupils — they’re equal and reactive, with no signs of permanent damage. The few days worth of stubble covering his jaw tickles your palm as he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. “M’ sorry for bailing on you,” he murmurs. “I really was going to come get you, I promise.”

“I know, sweet boy,” you soothe. “Don’t worry about it.”

He reaches out, pulling you closer and resting his head over your heart — and whining like a sad puppy when you don’t return the hug.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say gently. 

“I’ll be fine,” he mumbles. “C’mere.”

You wrap your arms around him loosely, resting a hand on his back and stroking up and down gently while you work the other into the hair at the back of his neck, gently massaging away some of the tension. He hums in contentment, settling against you and closing his eyes.

You’ve only seen him like this once, this clingy and sleepy, when he’d caught the world’s worst cold during harvest season and you were tasked with taking care of him while everyone else was out working. Of course you’d gotten the same cold from him, and then the roles were reversed. He would actually have made a decent healer. If only he were safe here with you all the time instead of risking his life every day doing gods-know-what in the name of preparing for war. 

“I worry about you, y’know. All of you,” you admit. 

“Don’t. We managed to escape a literal dungeon together.”

“I wish you hadn’t been there in the first place.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

You feel your stress slowly start to drain away, replaced with the reassuring steadiness of his breathing and the soft tick of the clock. You can finally stop worrying about his name being on the death roll tomorrow.

He pulls back, looking up at you. “Can you check if one of my ribs is broken?”

Your eyes widen. “You really just let me — asked me to hug you, when you thought you had a broken rib?” He winces at your volume, and you apologize immediately. “Sorry, sorry. Take your jacket off?”

He complies, setting it on the table, then tugs his shirt over his head, and your jaw drops — both at the yellow-purple bruises across his chest and ribs, and the definition there. He’s always been lean, but the last year has really toned him. All the muscles you had to memorize the names of are on clear display. You pick them out one by one as your eyes rake over the exposed skin.

“Is it that bad?” he asks after a moment.

Busted. “No,” you stammer. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen. Can I…?”

“Go ahead.”

You lay your palm against his side, feeling for an obvious point of discomfort. His skin is warm to the touch, and the muscle has just the right amount of give to it. He’d be nice to cuddle with, among other things.

He inhales sharply, distracting you from your thoughts. “There?” you ask, prodding gently. “I think it’s just bruised. There’s no swelling or evidence of displacement.”

“Ah. And the other side?” he asks hoarsely, his cheeks flushed pink.

There’s no bruises or cuts on his other side, but you humor him anyway, moving your hand down his ribs. Five… six, seven, eight… nine, ten… “Turn a bit?” you prompt. 

You’re very grateful that he can’t see your face right now. You’d admired his chest, but his back… the expanse of his shoulders and the relic stretched across them, the thick lines of muscle there… Focus. Stop being a creep. He’s injured, for Amari's sake.

You smooth your hand over his side, finding the floating ribs… there. Eleven, twelve. “Nothing broken,” you manage. “Anything else to report?”

He shakes his head no. “Just sore.” He pulls his shirt back on, and it takes you every ounce of self control not to look disappointed as his skin is covered in the tattered black fabric. He looks you over like he’s assessing you for injury. “How are you doing? Any creepiness I missed out on when I was chained up?”

You wince at the mental image, but shake your head no. “I haven’t seen him in a few days. Are you going to be okay to get back on your own?”

“I thought I told you to stop worrying about me.”

“You did,” you answer. “But I’m not going to stop.”

He sighs. “You’ve always been stubborn like that.”

“I should probably get back out there, but if you want to lay down for a while, I can keep the door locked.”

He shakes his head, standing. “I’m gonna go shower, n’ probably sleep for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Why are goodbyes with him always so awkward? You never know what to do, where you stand. You definitely aren’t in kiss territory. Maybe a cheek kiss, but that’s pushing it. You’ve settled for long hugs a few times, never knowing if it would be the last one you ever get.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For patching me up.”

“Always,” you answer softly, looking up at him. “I’ll always be here for you. Just keep coming back to me, okay?”

“Always.”

[caterpillarinacave]

my brain is a wild place

[rafecameronssl4t]

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

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

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.

[petalsonmoon]

you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

"it's ridiculous." then he leaned his body foward, his fingers meeting his toes. an elongation you would take embarrasingly months to be able to do that flawlessly.

"and really fucking stupid" he proceeds his thoughts.

"oh please, do go on." you look down to your notes and continue to write your ridiculous ideas.

the sun was far too bright and where its glow met the leaves of the large number of trees around you they were gleaming, like they were immensely happy.

"i hope your little notebook accidently burns to ashes."

"kind of you to say accidently."

"yeah no problem at all"

you glance up to find that he has his knee bended to his chest and quickly look back to the pen in your hand. quite misteriously your hands are stained from it.

"you making the walking sleeping bag one too?" his voice is raspy and angry and very clear. how does he sound so good while doing post training stretching?

perhaps you're looking too much into it. your crush makes you a bit giddy, idiotic in a lot of senses. makes you feel a child just like the word itself is infant. crush.

you sigh heavyly.

"still deciding" you draw a little explosion on the corner of the page.

"might as well do it for class b too."

"if i got a penny for every dramatic sentence that came out of your mouth-"

he had his back to you but he insisted on turning his head to you to send you the most chilling glare for exactly 3 seconds. that's his stupidity. his eyes were already too pretty in your eyes for you to feel an ounce of that anger.

"-only today i'd have like," you scrunch your nose "the amount of money equivalent to the ferocity of all might's powers."

he doesn't bother to look at you again and you smile.

"would you look at that. i should look for the person with this quirk."

he growls. loud. and you're smile is genuine.

he sits up straight, his back to you and starts leisurely move his neck. that's the sign he's almost done.

"putting too much money for those idiots.”

"it's not that much" you reason. "don't feel that way for too long, you're getting one too."

with that, it's over.

he turns to you and when those red eyes meet yours the trees are for sure shinning somewhat brighter.

the response for your affirmation it's a furrow between his eyebrows. his skin glowing a bit but that's not your absurd heart speaking, it's just his sweat.

"uhum" now you're messing with the grass. it estabilizes you. "yours is actually the only one that i drew and painted myself. the other ones i made with suna from the support course"

an ant crawled into your point finger.

"but don't tell them that." you whisper.

the ant made it to your pulse when you feel a literal body falling on top of you.

"you motherfucker! you are drenched-"

"that shitty little brain of yours-" his face on your neck. his words and breathing warming your whole body. you are exploding on the inside. how ironic.

"-and your stupid handmade keychains for the whole class" and then he lighly bites where your neck meets your shoulder.

his hands trails your arms, his fingers are burning pathways in your skin until they meet your hands and they interlock with your fingers. then he finally lifts his head and looks at you and what you're feeling is something words can't understand.

"i was gonna wait until graduation."

"tomorrow, you mean."

he bites your chin and you're so fucking certain you'll melt any second now. "because of that fucking tone i'm going to burn all of your little gifts."

you smile at him trying to match his damn audacity. his charm? his mind blowing handsomeness? "i'll murder you."

you blink and feel his breath on your neck again. "do it now, cupcake." then. his maddening warm and soft lips leaves a kiss under your earlobe. you close your eyes. "you have the power to."

"don't wait until tomorrow."

he lifts his head again and there's a smirk with a softness in the corner of it on his face. "or?"

"i might die." you whisper. it is serious to you. you need his lips on yours this very second. with his eyes on yours, telling you every adoration you thought about him for the last couple of months before going to bed, you think might. actually. die.

"who's the dramatic one now, brat?"

[mrscarpenter]

BED CHEM

Jacaerys Velaryon x Dornish!reader

Summary: The Prince gets send to gain a powerful alliance that the house targaryen has wanted for a long period of time, and he stumbles upon you. A gorgeous dornish queen.

Includes/warnings: dornish!reader this is probably horribly written so thats a warning in itself, not proof read but i believe Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. Did not give reader a description other than female & dark black curls. There is an age gap in this (reader is 16, jacaerys is 19, but it is never actually mentioned) like i said, not proof read, if you see any spelling errors feel free to point them out!

🪐notes: idk much abt the dornish, especially not in this timeline/au so please ignore any mistakes. Jace is not engaged to baela in this. :)

from my short & sweet collection

You were standing in the hall of your castle in SunSpear. Waiting for the arrival of the prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the iron throne and prince of DragonStone. Or he would be, had King Aegon Targaryen not usurped the iron throne.

The weather in Dorne was always exceptionally hot, so you wore a sheer gown. One thing about the Dornish was that you were not ashamed of anything, especially not what the gods had given you. The dress was a dark blue, with red and gold detailing, your long black curls hanging loosely over your shoulders.

Once you saw the prince arrive, you stood up straighter, clearing your throat silently, allowing a faked smug expression to fall upon your face.

“Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, to what is the pleasure of your presence owed?”

It was all a different environment to what he was used to at DragonStone. The strong breeze of hot air, the lack of thick winter-like clothing, the more exposed body, the tanned skin... it was all such a strange sight to a prince accustomed to the cold. He bowed gently towards the young Queen of Dorne, and looked at her dress. He admired the work that her seamstresses had to do to look so good on her.

“A pleasure indeed, my lady. May we chat inside? It is quite hot here, I confess.”

you nod curtly. “Of course. i am afraid i am in a bit of a hurry though, many important matters to attend.” You point out a hand, allowing him to walk beside you as you walk up the steps into the castle.

Jacaerys follows you, watching the way you walk and the environment surrounding the palace. The hot air, the sun, the tanned skin.

He looks over at you, trying to figure out more about the queen of Dorne. “You are quite young, my lady. Not that I'm much older, but tell me what's it like being queen so young?”

“I am quite used to it. I have been Dorne’s ruler since i was 6 summers old. The Dornish are respectable people, and very direct. It hasn’t always been easy, but it felt natural.” You spoke.

Jacaerys nodded as you walked, thinking it was somewhat impressive someone that young could ever rule. He smiled slightly at your comment.

“I can see the directness in you already, if you'll forgive my boldness. You don't seem like you're the type of woman to beat around the bush, are you?”

Jacaerys was trying to figure you out, as any man with an interest in women would do. He walked beside you as you both spoke, trying to gauge his chances.

after a few seconds you speak up “No, i indeed am not. And i do not expect anyone else to either, if i step on anyone’s toes with my words, they are not company i should keep.”

That comment made Jacaerys smile, appreciating your honest nature. He couldn't deny how attractive blunt honesty was, especially in a place where everyone was so used to keeping secrets and making alliances all the time. “So you speak plainly?”

He knew women with bluntness often became some of the most interesting ones. And a queen, with an attitude like that, made a very intriguing proposition. As curious as your boldness made him, he couldn't deny his physical interests.

That dress... Gods...

You bring him out of his thoughts with your reply. “Yes i speak plainly, and so should you, Prince Jacaerys.” You spoke softly, almost gentle-like. It was very refreshing.

Jacaerys took a long look at your body, his eyes slowly glancing at the details of your dress. The way the skirt of the dress swayed with your movements and how the gown itself left little to the imagination. The way your curly locks dangled and moved. The way your skin shone with the sun's blessing...

His gaze finally returned to your face, the soft features combined with the dark eyes and long wavy hair. He couldn't deny what was crossing his mind right now. Your blunt nature, combined with the way you looked, was certainly making him wish for things.

He couldn't help himself, as he took another look at you, before finally speaking. “That must come in handy for a queen like you, my lady. You're much less... complicated than one would expect from a ruler.”

Jacaerys approached one step closer, his eyes still locked on yours.

“If I may ask, are you married or betrothed by any chance?”

Your blunt words, your direct manner, and your pretty face only encouraged his desires. And it seemed the prince was rather blunt with his intentions as well.

Your eyes locked with his, as he asked the question you were certain was coming.

Of course, he must be interested in some deal. Just like any man, the prince wouldn't be able to simply let a beautiful young queen pass by.

You took a moment to think, wondering what to share.. or perhaps hide. "No, my prince. I am unmarried."

The corner of Jacaerys' mouth curled into a small, cocky smile. "Oh, is that so?"

A hint of teasing was clear in his voice, his eyes still looking for something in yours.

"Well, I suppose that does have some upsides."

He took another step closer, until he was at an arm's distance. The young prince could smell the scent of the air in Dorne, the sun-kissed skin, and the expensive perfumes of a queen. "Tell me, how might a man catch the interest of the queen of Dorne?"

The prince's voice had the tone of teasing, making your eyebrow raise slightly. His sudden proximity also caught you slightly off guard, his physical interests becoming very clear to you.

You couldn't deny how handsome he was. And you guessed perhaps you could use a bit of fun, considering you were unmarried and in your youthful prime.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, his eyes burning a hole through your face. "Hm... What are you offering? Your family is at war, are they not? your visit is political.”

The prince let out a quiet chuckle, letting his eyes wander over your body for a moment.

The dress was certainly eye-catching, the way it hugged your curves, allowing his imagination to let loose...

The words you spoke only made his eyes find their way back to your own, and the smirk he had on his face only grew.

"Is the possibility of a political alliance enough to catch your interest, my lady?"

You watched the prince's eyes as they caressed your body, the boldness in his gaze, and the clear interest that you knew was there. You knew how to take advantage of an opportunity..

"Depends on what kind of a deal you're suggesting, my prince." There was an undeniable flirtation in your voice, your own subtle way of teasing him.

The prince didn't hide the smirk that spread across his face after that statement. His hand slowly reached over to your waist, his touch feeling the silky fabric of your dress.

"Would a marriage perhaps suffice?"

Your dress, as thin as it already was, provided no barrier against his touch. You could feel each stroke of his fingers, his thumb moving in circular motions against the thin fabric.

The marriage proposal was expected, but it seemed the prince had a more hands-on approach in mind.

You kept a straight face, not to give away how your mind was beginning to wander with the possibility of a marriage. "What would I gain? And what would you expect in return?"

He didn't let your serious expression stop his hands from wandering over the silk of your gown, his hand moving across your waist and down your side. "You would gain protection, support, and a powerful alliance."

"And I would gain..." He leaned closer, his breath against your skin, "A gorgeous Dornish queen as a wife..."

Your heart began to race as his words and his hand continued it's exploration of your side, the anticipation of where those hands might end up was growing.

The prince's proximity and the way he slowly looked at you, expecting some kind of reaction. You stayed firm, holding back the subtle reaction you felt with his words.

"Hm... We might have a deal, my prince."

And with that, his lips ended on yours.

Requested by: @avatar4life

explore post. masterlist.

please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. <3

© mrscarpenter, 2024.

[winwintea]

dreamies meeting their kid for the first time + as a parent

GROUP ↬ ot7 dream x reader (ft. their child)

TAGS/WARNINGS ↬ some angst, LOTS OF FLUFF MY TOOTH IS LITERALLY ROTTING, spider-mark agenda is real, the child is sometimes a cockblock, haechan does some weird michael jackson-sherlock holmes roleplay idk it made sense in my head, jaemin going on shopping sprees, chenle never loses, ji... is ji.... (poor baby)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ everyone say thank you to @https-lvesick for getting me on that baby fever stuff... like i hate children but i love children. iykwim... anyways this is meeting their kid for the first time, but i can't come up with reasons why they were separated so you fill in the blanks. probably angsty reasons i love angst.

Mark Lee

when you come back through that door with a child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

literally has no words when you smile at him gently, saying it’s his.

mark swallows nervously, before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“i.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, my love,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

as a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either.

but he tries! give him some slack — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you see your child holding a sword?! 

and of course mark was in his halloween costume. typical.

“baby.. i can explain,” mark says calmly when you first find the two of them

well actually, three; it seems haechan was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you. good strategy.

“엄마, papa said he was iron man! he teached me how to be a superhero!” your child exclaims, flailing the sword around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“well, you see, i meant spider-man, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with murderous intent.

mark slowly kneels down to whisper something you couldn't make out to your child. the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the weapon.

then, as seconds pass, mark immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“mark min-hyung lee, you are so dead!” you scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY!” the two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. they’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

but you love it anyways

Huang Renjun

when you meet him at the door, there's a flurry of emotions clear on renjun's face, but his smile says it all.

“is it too much to say i’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

regrets the fact that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, literally becomes wrapped around your little one’s finger because of it.

so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, always smiling when he thinks of them.

literally makes the other members question whether or not they want a child too.

bonding time is painting of course!

usually ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, you scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“i’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” renjun's soft voice makes you forget why you were mad in the first place tbh.

massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some stubborn blue paint off your child.

“it’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and gazing into his eyes.

your lips were just about to meet, when —

“ma, i'm not clean yet!”

damn. cockblocked by your own child.

you groan, renjun laughing as he picks up the pouting child with their arms crossed.

“don’t give 妈妈 too much of a hard time, okay?” he never forgets to take care of you above all.

Lee Jeno

when you walk through that door once more, nervously telling jeno that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction.

and when you finally gather the courage to do it? his jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“아빠?” your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked jeno as you hold your breath.

he stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “yes, little one?”

very new to this whole parenting thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

plus he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well,

but you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is. so that's a plus !

you'll usually find them in jeno's room together, while you need jeno to watch your child while you go out for an errand or something.

but when you see jeno, well, he starts to look ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room.

then, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

jeno utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin. “딸,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping their wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Lee Donghyuck

haechan tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his. it's okay, let it out hyuck. <3

“ah, crying like that on our first meeting… don’t you think your fath — i’m a bit embarrassing?” he asks, sniffling as he tries to muster a smile through his tears.

your child giggles, eyes crinkling while grinning. “no! mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

you have to intervene at this point to stop him from sobbing again.

haechan wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, so he's definitely going to spoil this child every second that he can.

you’d always find the two of them either going out shopping or messing about at home

also probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what.

one day you were curious, so you peeked through a tiny crack of the open door.

genuinely concerned at what you saw.

was that a... trenchcoat on your child? the two of them were engaged in conversation as haechan started nodding with a serious look on his face.

“so, mj, do you think waffles make mummy happier?” your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up like a mic in front of haechan's face.

mj???

haechan strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, i dee-hee duce they do, sherlock!”

sherlock...?

“good deduck – deduction, mj! i thought so too.”

you can't help but snort as haechan grabs his crotch and poses while high fiving your child.

as stupid as this was, your heart literally melts. the two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. dorks. 

Na Jaemin

“i was hoping you’d be back, my dear.” his perfunctory smile is so smug that sometimes you just want to punch him in the face. “with a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, trying to ignore your anger. you were here to show your child to jaemin. jaemin looks at the two of you with surprise, the curves of his mouth inching upwards.

hey jaemin wasn't trying to be possessive... cause that's weird. but the way you emphasized the word 'your' made his breath hitch. we can unpack that later though.

for now, na jaemin is a certified sugar daddy

jaemin is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

you asked jeno the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

okay something needed to be done about this. so you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. after explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

but your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“and what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” fuck him and the words he's picked up from traveling abroad. but jaemin looked honestly confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s.

you smile softly, “isn’t it obvious, silly? the little rascal loves you more than anything.”

he laughs. he doesn't get it. preparing for yet another shopping spree. why do you even try at this point?

Zhong Chenle

oh my god. when he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, chenle has to literally take a quick second to calm down cause he’s so angry.

no, not at you, of course, he would never. but at himself.

he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Y/ — 甜心,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy bed-head hair and staring at you with eyes that practically scream "please hug me, i'm insecure"

“how am i supposed to take care of a child when i couldn’t even take care of you?”

but don't worry, after many reassuring words and warm hugs, chenle's finally okay and back to his normal self, holding your child up and giggling.

maybe this was a wrong idea cause now you have to take care of a manchild and a child.

is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. (just because he has a nephew does not mean he knows how to parent a child.)

also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks as much, so out of the dreamies, he’d end up becoming one of the better fathers.

also cause he never loses. and no way is he gonna lose an argument with a child.

“不行。” “爸爸, pleaaase?” “no. 不可以。”

chenle seemed to be holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child trying to ignore their pleading puppy dog eyes.

“妈妈说 no chocolate, right?” your heart warms when you realize he remembered you scolding your child yesterday, though you can’t help but to feel a little bad.

“chenle,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “how about you give the little baby some chocolate and we can eat the eggs i just made in the kitchen?”

the way both their eyes shine almost identically is so fucking adorable.

Park Jisung

??!?>!?!>?>!?@#?>(*#(@*(*#!?!@?

“that’s… mine??” “what?” “… it?” “it?” “the.. child?”

actually malfunctions.

jisung is very flustered, for lack of better terms. he was always considered the baby maknae of dream, but his own child? lord, help him.

you... him.... the baby... it or they.. came out of you??? what.

gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the building. everyone tries to stop and coo at the baby, + chenle and haechan have decided to make his life a living hell cracking up jokes whenever they can.

jisung is surprisingly good at getting your chaotic child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his big yap sessions.

“and did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing uncle chenle and uncle haechan?” you question the two of them, wondering what they had been talking about earlier.

your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and grinning, “아빠 also said, ‘get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

oh fuck.

your accusatory gaze turns towards jisung, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead, trying to shield himself from possibly getting more bruises.

“i-in my defense, they were—”

“one more time, park jisung, and i’m changing their legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love and appreciate so so much.”

his eyes widen in shock, “you wouldn’t.”

“try me.”

now jisung is a grumbling mess when the two idiots are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around can be counted as an upgrade, i guess.

TAGLIST ↬  @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct @peterm4rker

[beanarie]

of course

in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat

(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)

~

Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"

Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."

"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."

"There's nothing else?"

"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."

Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.

He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.

He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.

Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"

"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"

"Was it Evan, for any of them?"

God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.

"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"

"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.

Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."

"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."

Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."

There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"

"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."

"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"

"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."

Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."

He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"

Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."

"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"

Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"

"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"

Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.

"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."

The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"

The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.

"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.

"Tommy?"

Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.

A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."

The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.

"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."

Half a millimeter.

One quarter.

Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.

"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."

Micrometer? Is that it?

Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.

"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."

Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.

[oceanreveuse]

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗵𝘆𝗱𝗿𝗼 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻, 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲.

◟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!!

‘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.”

© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.

[ the magazine is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Under the eyes of the seven ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x niece!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.

[bitterrfruit]

he wakes you up

waking up hungover after letting a cocky scottish stranger spend the night. indie sleaze!Soap x reader, no cw. 1.4k words, mdni an: never posted a part 2 to my old fic trainspotting, but i wrote a good chunk of it. sleazy brow ring johnny is still close to my heart so i thought i'd share a bit of it <3

You wake up slowly, sweatily, mouth dry and fuzzy like you had swallowed a lump of cotton – so delirious, for a moment, that you expect to hear your mother calling for you to hurry up or you’ll miss the bus.  

No, instead, you hear the sparkling white noise of running water. Can’t be rain, because the sun beams brightly through your open window – directly onto your face, blinding you, sending you spinning as you tug your thin pillow and hold it over your head to shield yourself.  

Groaning, your brain throbs swollen and heavy, your skull an iron vice. You force yourself to sit upright, hoping your feet on the ground will calm the swelling nausea, turbulent in the pit of your stomach. It doesn’t.  

Bathroom. Bathroom.  

You leap out of bed, sprinting to the door of the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that separates your and Katie’s bedrooms. Throwing it open, you tumble to the toilet, hair unfortunately coating the toilet seat as your abdomen lurches noisily – tossing a pitiful spoonful of pink, cherry-flavoured vomit into the clear water with a foul splash. Ew.  

The shower is running, you realise, in the subsequent post-puke calm. You would have expected Katie to say something to your intrusion, but after a year of living together you have very few boundaries left. You wonder what time she might’ve come home during the night – suppose the bloke she went home with must have been a disappointment if she didn’t even stay till morning. No surprises there.  

You hear the thud of the shower lever and the water shuts off. After a few deep breaths, you build up the strength to apologise for barging in, sitting on your knees on the tiled floor.  

“Sorry – hic – couldn’t hold it in,” you burp, rubbing your forehead, tearing off a piece of loo paper to wipe your nose. “How was–” 

“Mornin’, hen,” comes the low voice of a man, tired and gravelly. “How ye feelin’?”  

Not fucking Katie.  

You cock your head back in shock, swiping your matted hair from your face, as your eyes shoot to the polyester shower curtain being tugged open with a screech.  

Hairy legs jut out from the cubicle, big feet land on the shaggy bathmat. Your eyes follow them upward, thick thighs, rippling muscle under a layer of flesh and furry skin. Until your stare hitches on the cock hanging brazenly from a fine carpet of brown curls – thick from base to tip, uncircumcised but its meaty pink head exposed, a hefty vein running down the length of it. Looks heavy even soft.  

You choke on any words you might be able to utter – jumping from shock, to fear, to awe, back to confusion. Who… 

“Eyes up here, bunny.” He teases you, that gruff voice barely familiar.  

A response suddenly comes to you, remembering it vaguely, and your lips form the words as if it were a realisation.  

“They’re just as pretty,” you croak, staring into the void of space before you finally glance at the man’s face.  

The shaven head, the brow ring, the glint of that golden tooth sparkling from the cocky smile that puckers dimples into his cheeks – now, yes, you somewhat remember him.  

“Ah, good. Y’do remember.”  

Suddenly humiliated, realising how much of a fucking mess you must be – you look down at yourself, seeing your vastly oversized Strokes band tee that you do not remember putting on. Nor do you remember getting out of the miniscule body suit you had worn to the party, nor peeling off the fishnets that had been flossing you from front to back for the duration of the blurry evening.  

There’s probably makeup smudged into racoon-like circles around your eyes, there must be smears of your pink lip-gloss in the corners of your mouth. If you weren't so ill, you'd run and hide from him.

“Did I-” you stammer aloud, attempting to connect the dots. “Were you at the party?”  

He tuts, huffing disappointedly, as he reaches for the yellow floral towel hanging on the rail. Katie’s towel.  

“Och, dear,” he grunts facetiously, as he rubs it vigorously over his head, patting under his chin, chest, arms. Doesn’t seem to bother asking as he uses it to dry his balls, mammoth dick flopping around shamelessly as he does so. Your cheeks burn pink.  

“You weren’t?”  

“If I’m honest, hen,” he remarks, as he ties the towel nonchalantly around his hips, tucks it in just above his mound. Still brandishes that happy trail, and the sharp angled creases below his abs that carve from his hips to his cock. “Ye got me feelin’ a bit guilty.”  

“Why?” You swallow, doing your best to stop ogling him like a little animal.  “Did we…”  

He snorts. “You wish.”  

You frown, suddenly failing to suppress the admonishing smirk that curls in your lips. “We didn’t do anything?”  

He shrugs, rubbing the top of his buzzed head with his palm. “We had a wee bit o’fun,” he admits, a twinge of shame in his rumbling throat, “but no, nothing too regrettable.”  

You find yourself weirdly disappointed. “Why not?”  

And your slightly dissatisfied query seems to lift some weight from his shoulders, he returns with a grin. “You were a bit steamed, hen,” he says. “would’ve been dodgy of me to stick it in ye while y’were like that, eh?”  

“Mm,” you nod, concealing your chagrin, the memory of running into him on the road suddenly flies back to you, colliding with you like a slap.  

A complete stranger. Naked (mostly) in your bathroom.  

“Didn’t expect you’d be such a gentleman,” you gripe, a tad facetious. 

He smiles. “Disappointed, are ye?” He jibes, tilting his head. “Y’were definitely disappointed last night. Poor wee thing. Got all whiney.”  

You flush hot as that memory slithers back to you, too. Cheeks aren’t the only thing that burn at the thought. You suddenly harken back to the weight of his palm on your cunt, the mocking pressure of the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. Your stomach drops at the memory. 

“Did not,” you murmur.  

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles at you, sauntering in your direction, he holds out a hand for you. You smile bashfully as you take it, and he lifts you to your feet so deftly you’re almost lifted into the air. “Feelin’ alright?” 

You’re a little dizzy after standing so quick, you blink heavily as you swallow. “Mm. Been better,” you huff, “I probably look like shit.”  

He frowns at that, tutting in disapproval as his raffish eyes linger on your lips – you lick them, worried there might be a speck of residual puke in the corner of your mouth.  

“Ye’re havin’ me on,” he chides, disapproval in his tone.  

“Am I?” You groan, wiping under your eyes with your fingertips in the hopes of swiping away some running makeup.  

He shakes his head. “Far too pretty to be talkin’ like that, bunny.” 

With a grimace, then a snicker, you glance downward at the chipped pink glitter on your toenails. “That’s nice, but–” 

“Psh,” he immediately cuts you off. “Don’t y’believe me?”  

Reeling in awkward embarrassment, you cross your arms, digging nails into your biceps as you look everywhere but him. Through a strained chuckle, you answer, “Not really.” 

His attention is almost intimidating; an unwavering, low-lidded glare as a smirk tugs in his lips. Tucks a hooked finger under your chin, coaxing your head to lift just slightly enough to look along your nose at him.  

From his throat, he rumbles, 

“Need me to show ye how pretty y’are, hen?” 

Your skin turns molten, glowing and pliant, eyes glossy and eager as you stare up at him through clumped lashes. He simply wears that snide little grin, proud of himself, only growing prouder as he notices how flustered he’s made you. Fuck! 

Lips part to let words free but they turn sticky on your tongue, and he brushes your chin with his thumb.  

“Look at’cha,” he sneers, letting go of your face; using the tip of his thick finger to sweep a rogue hair from your forehead with a gentleness that you’re earnestly surprised he’s capable of. His tenderness is fleeting, though, because he chuckles; “Too easy.”  

Jaw agape, you only laugh as you cover your eyes with your palms. “God, you’re such a dickhead.”  

He hums, a giggle, swaggering around you before swinging a quick smack on your ass, making you yip – casual and in passing, such a brash show of lude badinage that you can only gawk at him as he wanders into your room.  

“S’why you invited me in, in’t it?”  

Crossing your arms, you follow him sheepishly, squinting as you step into morning sunlight. “I don’t think I can remember why I invited you in, to be honest.”  

“Mm, well,” he grumbles, “I’ll have t’remind ye, won’t I?”

[astr0n0va1]

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

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.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @cardi-bre91, @believeinthefireflies95, @blackgirlmagicforever , @bootlegroach , @mentalidrainedfangirl , @lotusunique, @thesizzler , @marissa53115 , @yeahnohoneybye @housewifewithnohusband22

______________________________________________________________

[fourthavecafe]

when you offend a curse

You barely had time to react. One moment, you thought it would be funny to poke at Sukuna’s side—a playful attempt to tickle the feared King of Curses.

But the next thing you knew, you were flat on your back, his two massive arms holding your wrist bound together above your head, while his other two arms hovered ominously, fingers twitching just above your skin.

“You thought you could tickle me?” Sukuna’s deep voice was laced with disbelief, an amused yet dangerous edge to it. His crimson eyes bore into yours, a smirk curling on his lips as he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “A pathetic human like you, tickling me? A curse?”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding as you tried to wriggle free from his iron grip but it was useless. His strength was overwhelming, making it clear who was in control. “I—I was just joking!” you stammered, eyes darting to the two hands still raised in the air, their fingers teasingly flexing. “You don’t need to—”

Sukuna’s smirk widened, his voice dripping with mockery. “Oh? Suddenly not so brave now, are we? You were so bold a minute ago.” He shifted slightly, his weight pressing you further into the ground, making you feel utterly trapped beneath him. “But now… you’re begging?”

“I didn’t mean to! I swear!” you tried to reason, your voice shaky as you tugged at your arms in vain. “Please, don’t tickle me. I—”

His laugh was dark and low, vibrating in your chest. “You thought I would be ticklish?” He sounded offended, almost disgusted by the very idea. “How insulting that you’d think a curse like me would have such a pathetic weakness.” His hands hovered just above your sides, the threat of them touching down sending your nerves into a frenzy.

You squirmed under his gaze, dread building in your stomach. “Sukuna, please—I’m sorry!” you begged, your voice trembling as his fingers danced closer to your skin. “I didn’t know—!”

“Didn’t know?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “I think you knew exactly what you were doing. And now…” His fingers grazed your sides, a feather-light touch that had you flinching immediately. His smirk deepened as he saw your reaction. “Now you’re going to learn what real torment feels like.”

You gasped, your body tensing but before you could say anything more, his fingers dug into your ribs and you erupted into helpless laughter.

“S-Sukuna!” you cried, writhing beneath him but his grip on your wrists didn’t budge. His other hands continued their ruthless assault on your armpits, sides and stomach, his fingers expertly finding every sensitive spot.

“Pathetic” Sukuna drawled, his voice low and teasing as he watched you squirm. “Look at you. Reduced to this—laughing, begging. You thought you had power over me?” His fingers moved to the pit of your stomach, digging in with precision, sending you into another fit of uncontrollable giggles.

You thrashed beneath him, gasping for breath between the frantic laughter. “S-stop! Please! I’m sorry!”

He leaned down, his face close to yours, his voice a low, menacing whisper. “Do you think begging will save you? You dared to touch me, thinking I would crumble under your hands?” His fingers danced across your ribs and belly, making you arch off the ground in desperate laughter. “This is the least of what you deserve.”

Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the tickling, but Sukuna showed no mercy, his smirk growing as he watched your helplessness. “You really are weak” he sneered, his voice filled with sadistic amusement. “This is too easy.”

His hands paused for a moment, giving you a fleeting sense of relief, but you knew better than to believe it was over. “Maybe I’ll stop” he mused, his eyes gleaming with cruel intent. “But not until I’ve had my fun.”

“Please!” you gasped, trying to catch your breath. “I won’t do it again! I swear—”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I know you won’t. You won’t even think of touching me again.” His fingers moved again, this time focusing on your bellybutton, driving you into a fit of frantic laughter that left you breathless and pleading.

“Beg all you want” Sukuna said, his voice cold and merciless. “But remember this feeling the next time you dare to challenge me. Because I’ll always win.”

[catboyieejeno]

wet dream -> mark lee (m)

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.

⋆ ★

[harmeu]

HOW DO THEY REACT TO THEIR S/O SMILING GENUINELY FOR THE FIRST TIME?

(GN!Reader)

(Izek, Cardan Greenbriar, Apollo, Edgar Allan Poe)

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.”

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.

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?”

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.” 

[theshinazugawaslut]

𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀 #𝟏 — 💀🎃 "𝑾𝒉𝒚'𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉?" 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 / 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙

You set yourself down on your bed, sitting on your knees before spreading them, sitting in a dolly-like 'w' shape, and nimble fingers play with the hem of your sheer, cotton candy-pink babydoll. The creamy skin of your thighs glossy and your legs adorned with flowery lace thigh highs, matching peep-toe heels on your itty-bitty feet.

Your reflection is clear in the body mirror that your husband had set in front of the bed: hair curled and swooping past your shoulders, face bare of any make-up except for the sparkling coat of red on your mouth that he loved to smear over your mouth.

The thought of his heavy, calloused thumb pressing against the fat of your bottom lip and smudging strawberry lustre into the edge of your mouth and onto your cheek to create a warped smile makes you moan softly.

He was at work right now, wearing that gorgeous suit you'd bought him just a week ago and ironed for him today. He'd looked downright delectable and the memory almost makes you drool.

Crisp silken obsidian shirt snug against his strong frame, buttons popping from the muscle of his chest so that he had to undo them, the love bites you'd left clear across his colour. The fabric of his shirt taut around his shoulders and arms; tailored waistcoat only emphasising the waist you adored peppering kisses across and straight-cut trousers beautiful around his thighs.

You were so upset in the morning when he hadn't let you kiss him silly. "Oh, gorgeous, y'know 'm gonna be late for work," he'd mumbled in that gruff voice of his against your mouth as he pressed open-mouthed pecks against your pouting mouth, kissing your temple goodbye apologetically.

That's what prompts the sweet vixen in you to reach for your phone, fingers gliding across the screen to dial your husband's number.

It rings for only a few moments as you put the phone on the speaker and lay it down on the plush of your bed. You're already spreading your knees nice and wide, catching a glimpse of your pink thong in the looking glass.

"Good afternoon to you, m'lady," comes the gentle, rich voice of your husband, filtering into the room and it takes everything into you not whine.

"'Nemi..." you say in your coy, sweet voice, dragging out the name so that you're almost singing it.

At first all you hear is silence and then the sound of him exhaling deep through his nose, murmuring an excuse to some co-worker of his as his chair screeches away from his desk. You can hear the rustle of his clothes as he locks himself inside the bathroom.

"What you fuckin' playin' at, missy?" comes the strict voice of your husband but the deepness of it tells you your little trick is already working. "You gonna work me up, huh? Revenge for not fuckin' you silly against the door this morning, yeah?"

"Just wanted to hear your voice," you coo with faux innocence, using your finger to snap your thong to the side of your glistening cunt obscenely. "Is that so bad...?"

Sanemi can barely breathe on the other end, fists clenching as he leans against the sink of the bathroom. "My voice, baby? You want me to tell you how to fuck yourself? Want me to tell you you're a good fuckin' girl as you touch yourself whilst I can't fuckin' watch?"

The words make you whimper softly, doe-like eyes already becoming hazy as you tentatively touch your stiff pearly clit and press just the tip of your nails into the tiny slit.

"God, you're such a fuckin' slut, you know that?" he huffs softly into the phone. "Always going dumb when I speak to ya, love my voice, don't you?"

"Y- yes," you says, sucking in a breath as you flick at the nub. "P- please- please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?" You can hear him unzip his trousers, no doubt palming his half-hard bulge, rapture-purple eyes closed as he talks; the very image of it makes you blush.

"Please tell me what to do..."

And you can almost tell he's grinning from the sound of your sugary plea, wolfish and sharp-toothed, no doubt bringing that chubby cock out his briefs and you're sad he's not here so that he can plap it against your cheek.

"Since ya asked so nicely, baby," he grumbles. "Legs spread, yeah?" You make a small, pathetic noise and he hums. "That's a good girl... Take those little dolly hands of yours, yeah? Rub those fingers against her, hm?"

You know exactly what he's doing; he wants you to spread your opaque pussy drool all over, slick yourself up, and you do. Just like he says, the squelch loud as your folds and chubby pussy get covered in your goo, fingers dirty.

"Mmmm, wish you could see how stiff my dick is, honey," he drawls and you listen in as he inhales a breathe. "You tell me what to do as well, 'kay?"

"S- squeeze your cock," you say, flustered, no matter how many times this has happened. "'Nd stroke yourself, please..."

He groans softly at your voice and you can imagine his eyes fluttering to the back of his skull. "Fuckin' minx, acting all sortsa cute 'nd shy after callin' me up just so you can touch yourself... Guess that's the beauty of a sweet girl, huh?" He chuckles, breathless. "Gods, wish I could grab your cute fuckin' mouth and make you suck on my balls since you like it so damn much," he babbles, "put two fingers in your pussy like a good girl, curl'em in nice and deep, thumb on your fucking clit."

Your two fingers are barely as thick or long as his pointer finger but you gasp nonetheless at the feeling as your thumb buzzes across your clit. You curl them in, barely grazing the spongy spot inside that you're just a hair's breadth from reaching.

"'Nemi," you gasp, almost crying as your fingers move in and out, desperately trying to get there as he also fucks his own fists, panting into the speaker. "'Nemi, I- I can- can't reach-!"

"What... Need my cock, yeah? This is your own fuckin' fault, doll," he groans, "couldn't wait till I finished work and now look what you've done, got my cock slobbering in a bathroom." His voice trembles and his words come out in grunts. "Should take you by the-" His words begin to break-" fuckin'-" badly- "throat and bend you over that little vanity of yours-" He laughs at the words, a little deranged- "Maybe I'll press that little face of yours against the mirror, you'd look adorable- Bet you'd like it, too, bent into a little ball as I fuck you into oblivion."

The words alone are enough to make you come undone, cumming and squirting over the bedsheets he'd cleaned only a few days ago.

It's silent for a moment before he gives a quiet little cackle.

"Guess I might have to. Since we both just fuckin' nutted."

[smoochi-march]

Sunkissed - Aloe

Fields of Mistria | March x F Reader

Summery | A flustered March get's accused of earning his fair share of sunburns, in reality, it may be a mixture of minor burns along with his inevitable embarrassment.

Warnings & Content | Overly Fluffy!

Word Count | 2632

“…I’m convinced you have no clue what you’re doing.”

March grumbled, sat at his work desk begrudgingly with the usual scowl adorned. Brows furrowed, he’d bite his lower lip impatiently. Stealing glances towards you, his knuckles dig into his cheek while leaning over his workstation inside, the space impressively tidy. Sat with his arm propped up on the top of his desk, this position allows him to steal subtle glances in your direction without show his entire face. Seeing the blur of your figure moving on the floor in his peripheral vision,

“…and I’m convinced you have no faith in me.”

You’d argue playfully, sorting through several pieces of equipment in your bag. Tossing some odds n’ ends aside, clearly in search of something specific.

“I don’t… can I continue my work? If you haven’t noticed already, I have a routine that you’re interrupting.”

March hated waiting, how’d he end up here, to begin with? Why was it he could never argue against you? He had remained the very definition of all bark, no bite. With you specifically, and it frustrated him to no end. It was always you. You, you, you. He hated to admit it, but he was wrapped around your finger.

Before this whole situation, he had been hammering away at his station…

It was significantly brighter today where most would rush towards Mistria’s beach in their favorite swimwear. He didn’t have the time for that, no matter how much he desired to lay off the work and relax. It's not that he disliked his job, it was anything but that. Left with a stockpile of requests, the mass majority being boring small projects such as bolts and nails, that was the problem. Tools to sharpen, all basic level blacksmithing. At this point, he’s itching for a harder task, something to test his unmatched skills… all the trophies in his bedroom prove that fact is more than a self-claim.

“Good morning, March! I’m about to head out for the mines, is there any ore in specific you’d like? Copper? Iron? Silver?”

A familiar voice beamed from behind him, halting any further action as he snapped out of his previous thought process. He’d immediately recognize the voice, after all, it was you. You, you, you. How much he'd give to see that smile of yours by his side at night, not just these brief mornings before you part ways.

“Morning.”

He’d respond nonchalantly, lifting an arm to his forehead to block the incoming rays of sun from his eyes. Turning his body around, he’d noticed just how close in proximity you had been to him.

“W-What the hell?- what’re you doing?”

He’d lean back against the anvil, glaring at you as you’d suddenly lift both your hands to his cheeks. Delicate hands cradle his face sweetly, so light it could be mistaken for a pair of feathers brushing over his inflamed skin. He made several attempts to create some distance between the two of you, but you seemed insistent on whatever you had intended to do. Your eyes analyzing him closely,

“…have you been working all morning? You’re pink.”

Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, so close he could feel your breath fan against his face. Further fanning the flames beneath his skin,

“Of course I was. Is there a problem with that?”

You’d raise your chin with furrowed brows, you always were the one unafraid of their expression, huh? Those cute expressions of yours… -He'd catch himself on these thoughts, clearing his throat to focus on the initial task.

“Yeah. You shouldn’t be working outside in this heat, look… you’re burning up!”

He’d turn his head away, only for your hand to guide him back to face you once more. Glaring daggers at you only to lose that sharp gaze, faltering, he’d let out a defeated sigh. Eyes closing before shifting to relocate anywhere but in your own, when had you gotten so beautiful? Or perhaps you always have been. Either way, he’d allow you to follow through with your concerned actions, not without his grunts or grumbles of disapproval. You knew better than to trust his words, his body language giving him away.

He may end it all if a single person catches wind of this interaction,

March was used to experiencing higher elements of heat, ignorant towards the clear sign of his skin losing its battle against the sun. So caught up in his work, he now had your hands brushing over his cheeks, before lowering down his neck... trailing towards his shoulders, and lifting his arms for him to take note of his burns. Fingers tracing his biceps.

"March, look.”

…

“…Please? You're burnt.”

You'd realize your words may have been too firm, softening quickly after to smooth over any misunderstanding. He always took care of himself, his brother, and those around him. But found himself needing the help this time,

"You're making this a bigger deal than it has to be, you act like you haven't had a burn in your time working on the farm."

Sparing you a disapproving look, he'd then take in the true tenderness you held. He didn't mean to concern you, he'll have to take better care of himself to avoid you getting in a position like this again... Your eyes glimmer, only to be overcome by a passing cloud beneath the sun. Your face naturally flushed as a response to the heat, those lips of yours so close and parted ever so slightly. Drawing him in.

"Get inside, I'll be back."

Your thumbs gently caress his skin absentmindedly, hesitating to let go, he'd notice this. Hesitant to pull away as well, the couple now stare away from each other bashfully, unable to let go. They were left at a stalemate.

He's unsure exactly how long he stood there with you in silence, being the one to wear his signature frown.

"What about your trip to the mines?"

You'd raise a brow, tilting your head as you step away from him. Pivoting on your foot, ultimately hiding your expression from his gaze. He then notices how your hands clasp each other behind your back, fidgeting nervously. What caused this anxiety? Was it him? The idea of work?

"It can wait, be right back! You better be inside once I've returned, if I catch you breathing next to that anvil of yours I'll nag you all summer."

March rolled his eyes, using the spare back of his hand to feel the warmth in his cheeks, rivalling a fever. It may have started as sunburns, his sun-kissed skin rosy like the flowers you had first-ever gifted him when you situated in town.

"...you already do."

He learned to love that about you.

"Ah ha!"

You'd exclaim with a sense of accomplishment, lifting yourself and waltzing towards March who behaved like an unimpressed teenager. Eye scanning over your body, landing on the tiny bottle in your hand.

"What is that?"

This question wouldn't receive an immediate answer. Watching you squeeze the bottle, popping the cap off... a green gelatin substance now pressed against your palm.

"Aloe Vera. I bought some the other day from Balor,"

Before he could speak, you'd ask another question. He didn't hear what you said. Lost in his world the closer you got, it was pathetic. Biting back his tongue, he'd nod his head to whatever you said. Gaining a smile in return, you'd rub your hands together, spreading the Aloe in your hands. Soon reaching to grasp his face again, making him flinch at the cool temperature.

"-I thought you'd put up more of a fight, y'know. I appreciate it, March. You know... for all you do at the forge for Mistria."

Voice rendering as uncharacteristically mother-like, his eyes shut with ease. Finding pleasure in your fingers working the aloe into his skin, rubbing his cheeks in a circular motion. His face had begun to cool down in a matter of seconds,

"Don't mention it, there's no need to concern yourself over trivial matters like a slight burn."

March huffed, eyes fluttering open when he'd feel your motions stop at the bridge of his nose, upon hearing his words. He couldn't tell whether or not he enjoyed the contrast in temperature, a battle between the soothing gel against his flustered face.

"Your health is not trivial! Take that back, ...Idiot."

You'd pinch his cheek, making him hiss in pain, and smack your hand away from his face lightly.

The tingling sensation of Aloe is evident as ever on his skin, this felt strangely... intimate.

He's had Olric help him apply sunscreen when he was young where he couldn't reach, but, never a woman so generously offered to ease his pain with such a substance... he still didn't believe it was important, while allowing you the satisfaction in helping.

"Tch. Yes ma'am."

The small talk would come to a close, his eyelids weighing down. He'd feel your body shift next to him. Your hands met his broad shoulders, beginning to massage them with newly applied gel. Small groans escaped the man in response, fuck it felt good.

Your hands were like magic, his body melting at your wake, finely shaped like putty in your hands. His tension was immense, you wished nothing more than to help. Stretching out his muscles, You were no professional, but he enjoyed your actions thus far.

The silence was comfortable, time slowing with each pressure applied by your steady hands.

“This should help with your recovery, want me to leave the Aloe with you? I’m sure you could use it for future use.”

Your voice fissured a crack in the silence, bringing a smile to his face. Faint, a mere ghost of what it could be. Hidden from your sight,

“Sure.”

March would hear you hum in response, tilting her head back in an attempt to make eye contact with you. Only for those eyes to widen with your face hovering directly above his. Both party’s eyes were wide, unable to look away from the other this time. The way your hands were situated on his bare shoulders, your face hovering above his… it all felt right. Tilting his head further back, he’d raise an arm. His hand makes its way towards your cheek, hesitant, but progressive.

“…why go through all this trouble?”

March's voice held a share of his vulnerability, an expression masked behind his nonchalant attitude for far too long. Here, marks the beginning of an end. Or, so the two of you can hope. Old habits are a tough pill to swallow, to process, and to accept. To embrace.

“Trouble? I see no trouble in supporting the one I…”

You’d begin, struggling to continue your original sentence. Was this going a step too far?

“-the one you..?”

He’d inquire, no sign of his previous smile. Rubbing it off to hide beneath a mask once more, unable to express himself openly to you comfortably.

March’s attempt to lower his hand from your cheek results in failure, due to the sudden grasp of your hand on top of his. Holding it in place, your eyes shimmering like the beautiful jewels you’d donate to the museum… perhaps this is how Balor felt about those perfect jewels. March losing himself in your own,

“The one I care for, of course.”

March felt his heart flutter, observing how your body language evolved. His hand trapped against your cheek, he couldn’t help but feel a subtle blush rise to his face. The aloe stood no chance in keeping him cool at this rate,

“I- I see.”

Silence.

He couldn’t bear it much longer, unsure whether or not they had been crossing the line between comfortable silence or a tense air.

You couldn’t help but press your cheek deeper within the palm of his hand, it was large, calloused, and long due for an easy day's work. Something you were capable of granting him if only he’d allow it.

“I like you.”

What?

“Like, I like you, March.”

It was all so sudden he could hardly process all you had said. Silenced by your lips that pressed themselves against the back of his hand. It was as if his eyes were opened, he watched as all the colors surrounding them became significantly more vibrant. Hyperaware of the position you put them in, sounds around you both silenced.

The unwillingness to leave him be, despite such a common injury… the lack of materials on hand to venture through the mines in your bag. Had this been your intention all along? Did you lie about the mines, could that be why you were fidgeting before? Using it as a segue to get closer to him? He’s never experienced such a scene. Not just anybody was confessing, no, it was far greater. It was…

You.

“T-Think about it, kay’?”

You’d lend him a toothy grin, your blush rivaling his burnt cheeks. You had finally done it, you confessed to him. With all the anxiety rushing through your veins, you brush his bangs out from his eyes, feeling his thumb caress your cheek you forced him to hold. His expression was more visible than ever before, no longer safeguarded beneath his bangs, all due to how he sat on his stool, neck craned back as he looked up at you from a flipped perspective.

“…say that again?”

His voice was quiet, uncertain. However, you wrote that off as your imagination. Your eyes admire his body, the way his skin shines after your massage, the Aloe glistening with each curve of his muscle. His fluffy red hair lost some of its color while the black roots made themselves clear, he'd no doubt dye them again this coming Saturday.

“I like you, March.”

Following through with his request as you would any other time,

“…again.”

Again. He requested, and you delivered. A gentle smile permanently embedded on your face, allowing his hand to fall from your cheek.

“March, I like you-“

Willing to stroke his ego, you wrap your arms around him. Leaning against his back, your chin resting on his shoulder, not applying too much pressure. Worried you may harm him by pressing on the burns,

"If this is a joke, I swear I-”

He’d grumble, feeling you rest your head aside against his. Listening to the comforting sound of your breathing, losing the ability to speak.

“…of course not. For someone as confident as you are in your achievements, you sure are insecure. Not that I mind, I'll remind you that nobody holds a candle to you March...”

Following your words with proof of your legitimacy, you’d sneak your way closer to his body, your breath brushing against his cheek sending a shiver down his spine. You begin pressing your lips against his sun-kissed cheek, a featherlike attack directed toward his heart.

"...Y-you aren't so bad yourself. I guess... no, you're actually... never mind, forget it. Quit it, we'll never hear the end of it if somebody walks in on us."

He'd find the strength to press a hand against your face, forcing your lips off his body, tensing up as you'd soon follow his words up with a hushed whisper in his ear.

"-Can we take this to your bedroom then? If the idea of getting caught is all that concerns you..."

You'd ask genuinely, laughing as he'd struggle to look in your direction. Feeling as if you'd tighten your embrace around him, returning your nose back in the crook of his neck.

"...shut up."

Neither of you would say a word afterward, basking in each other's presence. Receiving that long anticipated, and oh-so comfortable silence. Satisfied with his reaction to your kiss, you sigh one last time. Replaying the events in your head.

He loves you. You’re convinced.