#SPREADING HERSELF FOR HIM OH MY GOD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lady-lauren · 3 months ago

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❥ SHOTA AIZAWA X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: cam girl!reader, former student/teacher relationship (but you're still his ~favorite~), praise, mutual masturbation, sex toys, use of "good girl", lots of dirty talk, aizawa is a pervert and we all know it

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“Look how far you’ve come.” Shota loves how you still tremble at his praise, fingers faltering on the screen. “Remember when you used to be so shy? And now you’re just spreading your pussy open for me.”

His gaze follows every movement, breath in his throat as you part your labia and slide your fingers down your folds.

He really thought it was just a rumor that the young generation of heroes had taken to social media to make money. Less villains meant less pay, sure, but he never thought he’d find you on one of his favorite sites, using the body he trained to stuff yourself with toys.

“You were always one of my favorites. Always such a good girl.”

“I’m still a good girl, Sensei. Promise.”

You prove your point by smearing your fingers over your clit, moaning as your hips buck.

“Yeah? Then show me your face, sweetheart. Wanna fist my cock to every inch of you.”

It’s so wrong. He feels like a dirty old fuck in his bedroom, sweats shoved down to his knees and his laptop screen glowing in the dark on the bed next to him. His camera faces the muscles of his chest, angled just perfectly so you can see the dark trail of hair that leads down to his cock. The frame captures the pump of his bicep as he strokes his dick, yet he leaves it up to your imagination to piece together what’s happening off screen.

“Then you have to show me your face too, okay?”

There’s the nervousness he’s used to hearing crackle in your sweet voice. Always so studious, so sweet, the most pleasant of all the brats to deal with. You only ever wanted to please.

He knew it was you by your bedspread in the thumbnail to your page. You still have the same pillows you used to have at U.A., all plush and girly with a memorable stuffie tucked off to the side.

“Maybe next time,” he offers, watching your tits heave and nipples tighten as you debate fulfilling his request.

Your camera lens is focused from the bottom of your bed, allowing him the perfect view from your spread thighs to your delicate collarbone. You never show your face, not to anyone, not even in one-on-one chat rooms. He read your rules, but he’s special—he’s no scary stranger, just a perverted sicko who wants to watch his former student fuck herself for him.

He shouldn’t be doing this. But god he can’t help himself. He’s seen you flourish as a pro hero, tight suits and bright smiles to the public, and all he’s ever thought about is how fucking pretty you must look naked.

“Then at least show me your cock, Sensei.”

You have got to stop calling him that. Yet his cock throbs and leaks at the honorific.

“Fine.”

His simple answer is enough to convince you. You sit up on your knees on the bed and lean forward, making his mouth water as your breasts fill his screen.

Shota strangles his cock in his fist as all of you comes into view. You raise the camera high enough to show your whole bed from an upward angle, letting him leer at you from head to toe.

“Atta girl.” He groans as you lean back against your pillows with one hand anxiously running a finger over your lips. You stare right at him through his laptop screen and it makes his balls swell. “I’ve missed your pretty face.”

He watches how his words make you press your already sticky thighs together, like his voice shot straight down to your cunt.

“Oh yeah? Have you missed me, too? Do you think about your old Sensei?”

Moaning, you’re unashamed to slide your hand down your stomach, spreading your thighs so you can relieve the ache he’s building between your legs.

“Mhmm, I do. Right now I’m thinking about what your cock looks like.”

He’d almost forgotten his promise. Shota looks down at his length, sucking in a deep breath at the sight of himself swollen and drooling for you. He pumps himself a few times just to feel the pleasure, to gain the courage to drag the laptop with his free hand just enough to bring his dick into the picture.

A sharp little gasp from you echoes into his room and he’s suddenly far too self-satisfied. He admires how you writhe on your bed, pulling your knees up so he can once again see the full image of your wet pussy.

“You’re so big,” you whisper like you mean it, like you’re wishing you had his cock in your hand instead of his.

“You think I’d fit inside you, hm?”

You’re like a curious cat eyeing him across the screen, lashes fluttering as you glance him over from base to tip. You must have a screen set up right next to your camera because your gaze is still meeting his as your head bobs up and down with the way he strokes his cock.

“I dunno,” you moan as you spread your legs wider, two fingers dipping to prod at your hole, “you’re bigger than my toys.”

“And I bet that little cunt is so tight. Put your fingers in and show me.”

You still listen so obediently, just like when you were his student.

He thumbs the head of his cock as he watches you sink two fingers into yourself, the microphone picking up the wet squish of your cunt. Your belly tightens with pleasure as you start to pump the digits into your pussy, slow at first and then picking up pace as your bliss builds.

“Tell me what you would want me to do to you if I was there.”

There’s no filter for him now, not with your messy cunt filling his screen and your hand now plucking at your nipple.

You take a moment to think, pretty head falling back to the pillows as you moan for him.

“Always wanted to kiss you, Sensei. Want to feel your hands all over me, ah,” you press the palm of your hand against your clit as you talk, making you nearly whine between breaths, “and I’d want your cock in my mouth.”

“You like sucking dick, sweetheart?”

He starts matching the pace of his fist to your fingers, picturing his cock sliding between your plush, parted lips.

“I like having my face fucked,” you admit and it makes him groan.

His noise spurs you on, makes you grab your tit and squeeze as your fingers move faster.

“I’d love to slide my cock past your sweet lips and into your throat. Want you to gag on it, spit running down your face as I take what I want.”

“Yes, want you to take what you want from me. Want you to use me, fill me up and fuck me with that fat cock, Sensei.”

He nearly chokes at your words, blushing at how filthy your mouth is. He pumps himself faster, picturing having your soft body in his lap, your sloppy cunt sinking down onto him.

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

The moan that sounds from his laptop is so lovely, the slick sound of your fingers in your pussy making him shiver.

“I can show you?” you ask more than state, pausing to look straight into the camera feed. “With a toy, I mean. Y-you can pick.”

God, you’re such a delightful little minx. Shota squeezes the base of his cock as the mental image of you fucking yourself on a toy nearly topples him over the edge. He doesn’t know how he will handle actually viewing it.

“Get your biggest dildo. Let’s see how it compares to me.”

Any ounce of guilt he feels fades when you return to your bed with a purple, silicone cock, long and thick but not nearly as fat as the throbbing flesh he holds in his hand.

“Guess you weren’t lying, were you, sweetheart? I’ll be the biggest thing that little pussy has ever taken.”

Shota doesn’t care if he’s stepping beyond the realm of hypotheticals—he’ll get his hands on you, one way or another, all in due time.

“Wanna see how I want you to fuck me?” you ask with the cutest smile, like you’re hiding such a naughty secret.

“Show me. Fuck yourself for me, tell me every little thing I’m doing to you.”

He props an arm behind his head to get comfortable, the muscles of his abs and lats rippling in the dim light of the screen. He threads his fingers through his long hair and tugs the moment he sees you turn and get on your knees, bending until you’re in the most sinful doggy position he’s ever seen.

“You start slow,” your voice drops to a sensual note, thick like honey, “cause you want me to feel every inch go inside me.”

The hand wrapped around his cock is moving before he can even think to stop, squeezing hard as he watches you reach around your body and start pushing the dildo between your pussy lips.

Shota gets too close to the screen, strands of black hair grazing the edge of the camera, face still out of sight. His gaze scans from corner to corner, watching as if he intends to commit every single detail to memory.

Your pussy sucks in the tip of the dildo, making you mewl, and slowly, torturously, you shove the length of it into your hole.

“How do I feel?”

“So good, want you to move, want you to fuck me hard.”

You take the initiative to start bouncing the dildo in your pussy, sliding it in and out, building speed. The sound is licentious, wet, all mixed together with the short, airy moans you let out with every push into your body. Slick is starting to build on the silicone, creamy and thick.

“Do you always get so wet or is it just for me?”

“All for you, Sensei. Cause you feel so good, you fuck me like I’ve always wanted.”

Shota smears his thumb through the pre-cum freshly leaking from his cock, using it as lubricant as he starts a brutal pace on himself. He can hear the repetitive slap of his wrist hitting his thigh echo into the laptop microphone.

“That right? You’re a dirty girl for wanting to fuck her teacher.”

“You’re so good to me, you rub my clit just how I like it.”

He examines how one of your hands reaches under your body, two dainty fingers swirling around your clit before kneading it quickly, like you’re just so desperate to cum for him.

The strokes he gives his cock are furious, other hand now coming down to cup his balls and roll them in his palm. His stomach flexes at the pleasure, picturing how that perfect cunt of yours would be squeezing him so tightly.

“You wanna cum for me? Wanna cum all over your Sensei’s cock?”

“Please,” you groan into the sheets, hips now bucking with the pace of the dildo slamming into you, “will you let me cum? You said I’m such a good girl? Ah, ah, one of your favorites?”

“Always my favorite, sweetheart. Show me how you cum, let me see you make a mess of yourself.”

Your knuckles are tight against the base of the dildo, using all your strength to fuck into yourself. You’re so close to the edge, panting, whining, hole stretched and practically weeping around the purple silicone.

“You know I’ll fuck you faster, right? Harder. Just wait until I get my hands on you.”

Your tongue falls loose, “Want your hands on my hips, want you to spank me, oh god, pull my hair, kiss me and fuck me and tell me I’m all yours.”

“You’re gonna cum for me, scream for me, all for me, got it?”

He can see the way your head shakes on the bed, mascara dripping down the side of your face that he can see. Tears are in your lashes, your lip caught between your teeth, and even still you’re looking back for him, watching him tug and pull his cock with your name in his mouth.

“God you’re so hot, your cock’s so big—”

A beautiful, strangled noise comes out of you as you finally come apart, your cunt clamping down around the dildo and your motions stilling. You scream into the mattress, all high-pitched and fucked out. Slick squelches from your stuffed hole, dripping down your thighs.

With the scene before him, it only takes a few more pumps before he’s unloading, cum spurting out over his knuckles and up onto his stomach, rope after rope spilling out for you.

His room goes quiet, his pants and your whiny breaths the only sound he hears over the pounding of his heart.

Finally, you shift on your bed, and he does his best not to look at the mess he’s made in his hand.

“Um,” you awkwardly clear your throat, looking away from him as you slide the dildo from your cunt. He can’t help but watch the way your pussy lips drag along the length.

The post-nut clarity hits him like a steam roller. His clean hand grabs his laptop, ready to shut the screen and pretend none of this ever transpired except in the guilty pit of his daydreams—

“Shota,” you mumble, sitting on your knees and holding your body, “this was, uh, well really…hot. I…I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

His ears perk, unsure if he’s ever heard you call him by his first name.

Before he changes his mind, he drags the laptop on his bed until the camera catches his face. You blink so prettily at the sight of him, dropping one of your hands from your breast like you’re just so comfortable seeing him.

“Next time will be in person.”

You give him the most genuine little smile, “Promise?”

#kinktober #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #shota aizawa smut #shouta aizawa smut #shouta aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa #bnha x reader #mha x reader #aizawa #aizawa x you #dripping banner by @/adorenedwithlight

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nebulaafterdark · 6 months ago

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The Rats Pt. 2

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI

Part 1

“Princess Y/N of house Velaryon.” The guard announces.

Rhaenyra’s heart skips a beat, surely he is mistaken.

“Mother,” Y/N says, racing toward her. “Your grace,” she corrects herself.

Rhaenyra wraps her eldest child in her arms. “Mother will do just fine.”

Y/N buries her face in Rhaenyra’s shoulder.

“How did you get here?” Aegon would never let her go of his own free will.

“Daemon,” Y/N breathes. Knowing that her stepfather will owe her for the half truth.

“Where are the children?”

“In King’s Landing.” Y/N tells her, “to keep Aegon’s wits about him in my absence. He wants to come to an agreement, he’s more than willing to bend the knee. I only ask that he and Helaena be spared…as for Aemond Targaryen, he is a murderer.” Y/N’s voice breaks, “we will avenge the murder of my brother.”

Rhaenyra’s strokes a hand over her hair, feeling the dark waves that remind her of Lucerys. “Aegon and Helaena will receive full pardons based on your testimony. Rest assured I appreciate what you have done on my behalf.”

“Thank you.” Y/N pulls back marginally, realizing her mother’s pregnant belly should be between them. “Where is the babe?”

Rhaenyra shakes her head.

Y/N covers her mouth with her hand, “I am terribly sorry.”

“It is no fault of yours, darling girl.”

“I should have been here with you.”

“When I offered your hand in marriage, I had no idea Aegon was capable of love. It has complicated all of this.”

Y/N nods, “speaking of my husband. I should send word that I am well, lest he take out his frustration on Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra taps her chin, affectionately. “I will fetch a scroll.”

————————————————————————-

Aegon’s youngest son is the only one of his children to share Y/N’s dark locks. His wife insisted they name him Aegon. After my dearest love. She said.

Aegon agreed of course as he can deny her nothing. The child wails nonstop, in the absence of his mother. At all of four months old, Aegon is the only one who can quiet him besides Y/N. As such, the King is now attending the small council meeting with a babe in his arms.

Their daughter, Dahlia, the eldest of the twins will sit the iron throne one day, through his line of succession and Rhaenyra’s. At all of six, she is sitting at the table. His other children Visera and Laenor have not been properly protected under the guard, they too must stay in his sightline.

“Gods be good.” Alicent frowns at her son.

“What is it?” Aegon huffs, arching a brow at her.

“The small council is no place for children, your grace.” Alicent explains. “They would be better tended by their maids.”

Aegon nods, “right. As you all know, two nights ago, the Princess Helaena was attacked in the children’s chambers. Our heirs were threatened and Queen Y/N was taken from us. During which time, not a single guard could be found on the entirety of the royal floor! Because you were-”

Aegon looks to his children in turn, “cover your ears my darlings.” He smiles, waiting until they have done as they’re told, holding his own hand over his infant’s ear. “Where were we, mother? Oh, that’s right, no one was guarding my children because you were fucking the royal guard.”

The council members lower their heads in acknowledgement.

“The men who carried out this attack, entered under the guise of rat catching. I want them found and swiftly executed.” Aegon demands, patting his sleeping son’s leg.

“We have been interrogating rat catchers for days, thus far we have no leads.” Otto explains.

A slow smile spreads over the King’s face. “Then hang them all.”

Alicent blanches.

“Anything else?” Aegon asks, watching Visera begin toying with Otto’s chair.

“A letter arrived from Dragonstone, your grace.” Lord Tyland informs him.

“Oh?” Aegon says, “from Rhaenyra?”

“From Queen Y/N.”

Aegon swallows, “did you read it?”

“No, my King.”

“Good,” Aegon reaches for the rolled parchment.

‘My dearest Aegon,

Please know that I am well. We would like to begin negotiations to end the blockade and create a peaceful transfer of power. This will require your cooperation, I hope you will meet me at Dragonstone to discuss this matter farther.

Forever yours,

Y/N’

Aegon exhales, sharply.

“What is it, your grace?”

“The children and I are off to Dragonstone.”

“Whatever for?”

“To negotiate the terms of Y/N’s return.”

“My King…”

“And if you cannot agree on said terms?” Alicent asks.

Aegon frowns, lifting a shoulder. “To war then.”

“He is unhinged,” Otto whispers to his daughter.

“As I warned he would be.” Alicent rises from her seat. “He is quite…devoted to her.”

————————————————————————

“It has been three days since you sent word to King’s Landing. We must assume Aegon’s silence is his response.” Daemon seethes, around the drawing table.

“Give it time.” Y/N insists, “you owe me that.”

Daemon smirks, “I owe you nothing, spoiled thing.”

“Mmm,” Y/N hums. “My mother does not yet know how I came to be here.”

“And you are not going to tell her. Otherwise, my distaste for your usurping cunt of a husband will be demonstrated at length.”

Sunfyre roars, calling their attention to the nearest window.

Daemon huffs, “I’ll be damned.”

“And he’s brought the children.” Y/N rejoices, running out to join her family.

Jacaerys is already helping to unload her children from the makeshift carriage on the dragon’s saddle.

“Mother!” Dahlia and Visera charge Y/N nearly knocking her backwards.

Laenor runs after them with his little legs as Aegon the fourth, stares at her, babbling in his father’s arms.

Y/N is moved to tears, “you came.”

“You didn’t think I would?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“It’s a rather large ask,” Y/N explains.

“For you, the world.” He replies, with a kiss to her temple. “Now, where is Rhaenyra? We have much to discuss.”

“Her grace will join us soon.”

Aegon nods, “I request a small audience, before the council.”

“That can be arranged.”

“After which your brother might tend the children whilst you show me your quarters.” Aegon whispers.

Y/N smirks, “of course.”

Part 3

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight

#house of the dragon #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon smut #aegon fanfic

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rafesangelita · 15 days ago

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౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 rafe is tired, but never too tired to have pretty little sheep!reader bouncing on his cock <3

warnings: dealer!rafe, light fluff, sleepy sex, riding & reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, spanking, hair pulling, use of the name ‘daddy’, tit sucking

a/n: sheep!reader has been getting heavily requested.. so ask and you shall receive! i’ll be giving longer fics a small break until my pogue!sweetheart!reader series is done because my brain is actually going to explode lol

nothing felt better than coming home to you after a long day of bullshit and seeing you in nothing but those cute thigh high socks of yours. especially when you were so needy and willing to do all of the work. you’d give rafe what felt like a thousand kisses all over his face, his arms wrapped around your waist as you gushed about how much you missed him and thought about him all day. “yeah? i missed you more.” you’d smile at his words, quickly getting him out of his clothes.

you massaged the tension out of his shoulders and left trails of kisses along his skin, your boyfriend growing more relaxed as your skilled hands worked to get him unwinded. by the time you were finished, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, his heavy-lidded gaze meeting yours. “what do you want, baby? you’ve been looking at me like you got something on your mind..” your cheeks heated in response, his fingers dancing along your flesh.

“i know you’re tired.. but can i get on top?” a lazy smile made its way to rafe’s lips before he pulled you onto his lap.

“fuck, yeah.”

those two words were all the confirmation you needed, your shaky hands planted on rafe’s thighs as you moved on top of him, his cock filling you to the hilt. watching you move so fluidly on top of him was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of your soaked cunt gripping him with every drag of your hips drew more moans from him than the last. “ah, f-fuck! you’re just taking that shit..” rafe was mesmerized, his large palm resting in the curve of thigh.

you cried out when his hand came down on the globe of your ass, a stinging sensation spreading across your sensitive skin. “riding me dumb, huh?” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before pulling you back against his chest. you were arched almost painfully in this position, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “poor baby, here by herself all day..” you whimpered, his free hand snaking down your tummy until he had your clit pinched between his fingers.

you shrieked, white, hot pleasure blinding your vision. rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what would have you yelping in pain, and what would make you all soft and warm like putty in his hands. “riding daddy makes you so fucking wet,” your hips stuttered when rafe starting rubbing hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the lewdness of his words, “just letting me use you like the cock slut you are, right?”

“y-yes!” you whimpered, sighing in relief when he let your hair go. “make yourself cum, ‘pretty girl, let me feel you.” rafe watched as you leaned forward, your back arching deliciously as you bounced on his length. your ass met rafe’s thighs in rhythmic claps, the sound making both of you moan. “turn around, precious, ‘needa see that pretty face.” you slid off of him for a moment, finally swinging a leg over his lap before sinking back down on his cock.

pushing his face into your chest, you whined when you felt him take one of your tits in his mouth, his tongue circling around the sensitive bud. he licked and sucked as you worked to make both of you cum. you relished in these moments when you two were panting into each other’s mouths, skin hot and burning with fiery need and desire, never wanting it to end. rafe’s abs constricted as he inched closer and closer to his climax, your thighs aching for a break.

“don’t fucking stop..” rafe dug his fingers in the flesh of your hips, “oh, my god, don’t stop!” he repeated, your eyes brimming with tears as your clit slapped against his pubic bone. as soon as you doubled over, your head falling against his shoulder, rafe knew the band in your tummy finally snapped, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time. embracing you tightly, rafe thrusted up from below you so you could just cum without keeping up your pace.

you shook against him, tears rolling down your cheek and onto his collarbone as you reveled in each wave of pure bliss. rafe’s mouth stayed open, his eyes screwing shut as you milked him for all that he had. eventually, you two came to a stop, your breaths being the only sound in the room. if rafe felt tired before, he was even more drained now.. literally. nothing beat his pretty thing of a girlfriend taking his load at the end of the night.

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crushpunky · 27 days ago

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drew and actress!reader take the “rizz quiz”

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this was requested and i actually hadn’t heard of this before, but i did some research (especially jd and carlacia’s video) and voila. slightly suggestive ending, but enjoy <3

“I’m y/n y/ln.” Y/n grinned.

“And I’m Drew Starkey, and we’re here with BuzzFeed to see how much ‘rizz’ we have.” Drew said, cringing slightly and looking over at y/n with a giggle.

“How much ‘rizz’ would you say you have, Starkey?” Y/n asked with a smirk, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at Drew.

“Oh jeez, I don’t know… medium? I have medium rizz? Is that how you say it? What do you think?” Drew chuckled nervously, peering down at y/n.

“I don’t know… I think you’re pretty charming.” Y/n giggled.

Stage 1: Rizz 101

“Give us your best pickup line.” Drew read, turning to y/n with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Ooh ok…” Y/n chewed her bottom lip in thought.

“It’s been a while.” Drew clarified to the camera, causing y/n to shoot him a playful glare.

“Oh, I’ve got one: do you have a map? Because I just got lost in your eyes.” Y/n batted her eyes at the camera. A smile spread across Drew’s face, his cheeks flushing a bright red.

“Ok, ok.” Drew chuckled, rubbing his hand along his jaw as he thought. “Oh I’ve got something to say… damn I must’ve forgotten it, the words left me…”

Y/n tried her best to hold back her laughs as Drew shook his head, in “frustration”.

“... I think it’s ‘cause you made me absolutely speechless.” Drew said, pulling the line home with a smirk. Y/n fanned herself off, letting out a low breath, causing Drew to laugh, hitting her gently with his hip.

“Drop a thirst comment under your crush’s post.” Y/n read.

“I just like to put the like… sweating emoji.” Drew said. “Sometimes the words just… don’t come when you see somebody looking like this.”

Drew grabbed y/n’s hand, taking a step back to show her off. With a bashful giggle, y/n spun around, dramatically striking a pose. Drew’s eyes scanned over her, biting his lip as he took in her beautiful features under the bright, studio lights. The curve of her hips, the smoothness of her skin, the glint of her eyes brought a smile to his face.

“Ok, rizz master, let’s get back to the game… what was the question?” Y/n said with a giggle.

“Thirst comment. You usually have some pretty good ones.” Drew teased.

“Ah yes… sometimes I go with just a simple ‘hot’ or like ‘oh my god’,” y/n explained. “Or sometimes I kinda like to write a paragraph really just explaining the… thought process.”

“Truly a professional and very talented thirst commenter.” Drew laughed, his hand resting on the small of y/n’s back.

Stage 2: Performance

“Charm this skeleton.” Y/n said, gesturing to the skeleton standing opposite them.

“Ladies first.” Drew grinned. Y/n approached the skeleton, running a hand down the skeleton’s arm with an embarrassed giggle.

“Hey… I just wanted to come over and say that you are absolutely glowing.” Y/n said bashfully, grabbing the skeleton’s hand. Drew moved to cover his mouth with his hand, a nervous grin on his lips.

“Like I just felt so drawn to you; your hair, your skin, your makeup, your eyes… I mean truly, you’re just stunning.” Y/n bit her lip, glancing over the skeleton.

“I was wondering if you wanted to maybe get a drink or something? Maybe we could… get to know each other a bit better.” Y/n batted her eyelashes before dropping its hand and turning to the camera with a laugh. Y/n walked back over to Drew, shaking her head in embarrassment. Drew removed the hand from his mouth, his jaw tense.

“Drew Starkey, are you jealous of a plastic skeleton?” Y/n teased, squeezing his bicep playfully. Drew shook his head with a bashful and guilty smile on his face.

“Hey, don’t judge until it’s your turn to watch.” Drew rolled his eyes, keeping his eyes on y/n as he sauntered backwards towards the skeleton. With an exaggerated stumble, he ran into the skeleton.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry—” Drew started, resting his hand on the skeleton’s spine as he straightened himself out, giving the skeleton the classic up-down. Y/n giggled, trying her best not to interrupt.

“Um, wow, I wasn’t expecting to bump into such a… stunning young skeleton tonight.” Drew chuckled, keeping himself locked into the scene.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess it’s just… fate we stumbled into each other… maybe we could see what the cards hold, hmm?” Drew smirked, doing his best to stifle a laugh, causing y/n to giggle and then the both of them to devolve into laughter.

“This is so stupid.” Drew said under his breath, his cheeks flushed as he returned to his spot next to y/n. Y/n didn’t say anything, just grinned up at him before proceeding to the next challenge.

“Now this is one I can totally get behind: what’s your go-to dance move?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, starting to move her shoulders a bit, Drew joining her as the two of them swayed side to side.

“We get any music?” Drew asked playfully before moving to rest his hands on y/n’s waist. The two of them shook their hips side to side, y/n dancing with her arms up as the two of them danced in silence. Drew took one of y/n’s hands, spinning her around, the two of them dancing hand in hand. Y/n took a step back, Drew continuing to shimmy his shoulders with a cheesy smile on his face.

“And you’ve of course gotta do the old fashioned…” y/n said, casting an imaginary fishing line at Drew. Drew “caught” it, jumping forward as y/n reeled him in until finally capturing her in a hug, the two of them laughing.

Stage 3: Unspoken Rizz

“Give us your best walk,” Y/n read with a quirk of her eyebrows. “Alright, take it away Mr Loewe.”

Drew shook his head, his cheeks blushing as he got into position. With a quick, deep breath, Drew started his best “model walk”, winking teasingly for the camera before walking back towards y/n. She could feel her stomach flutter as he found his place next to her, his hand resting on her back.

“Let’s see it, baby.” Drew grinned, taking a step back. Biting her lip, y/n walked forward, her hands smoothing down her sides as her heels clicked against the floor. She stopped in front of the camera, swaying her hips side to side, which earned a low whistle from Drew as she turned back towards him. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as she elbowed him lightly before stopping to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Ok, who smells the best.” Drew read, casting a quick look down at y/n. Lifting her head up, y/n took a quick smell of Drew’s neck before turning back to the camera.

“Drew smells like…” Y/n chewed her lip, “it’s like vanilla, smoky, cashmere— I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s definitely good.”

With a quick grin, Drew leaned down, his nose brushing gently against the sensitive spot behind y/n’s ear that caused her eyes to flutter slightly. Sensing her flustered expression, Drew leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her neck before pulling away with a smirk.

“Yeah she smells good.” Drew giggled, y/n rolling her eyes.

“The people need details, Starkey.” Y/n teased, hitting her hip against Drew lightly.

“I– You just smell like you,” Drew said. “Like a nice, autumn afternoon, sat inside with a candle, just sort of lounging and laughing. That’s what you smell like. A nice, autumn afternoon.”

“Can you tell he’s an English major?” Y/n grinned.

“Alright, alright,” Drew blushed, “next challenge: stare into the camera for 10 seconds.”

Y/n stepped forward, straightening her posture before staring into the camera with her best sultry gaze. Tossing her hair back, y/n bit her lip before stepping back towards Drew.

“Let’s see those icy blues, baby.” Y/n said as Drew stepped forwards for his turn. Soothing a quick hand through his hair, Drew’s gaze landed on the camera. Y/n looked past him at the monitor, feeling herself get lost in Drew’s eyes before he moved back to stand next to her. As the challenges had gone on, she had unexpectedly found herself getting more and more flustered by Drew’s flirty attitude, a heat growing more and more unbearable in her cheeks.

“That’s it! How do you think you did?” Drew read, his hand snaking around y/n’s waist and pulling her flush to his side.

“I’m not sure about my performance, but I certainly feel pretty ‘rizzed up’.” Y/n bit her lip, staring up at Drew, his eyes already on her.

“Is that so?” Drew quirked an eyebrow, his tone teasing as his fingers traced the small of y/n’s back as she nodded. Reluctantly, y/n tore her gaze from Drew’s, focusing back on the camera despite the way her head spun.

“Well, thank you for having us and allowing us to demonstrate our rizz abilities.” Y/n said, waving to the camera. Drew joined her, his smile wide, until the cameras cut.

“We don’t have any interviews after this, right?” Drew whispered, his tongue darting out to slide across his bottom lip in a way that made y/n’s stomach flutter.

“Yup.” Y/n grinned up at him, her eyes lingering on the curve of Drew’s lips.

“Good. Let’s go.” Drew pressed a kiss to the top of y/n’s head before grabbing her by the hand, the two of them darting out of the studio and hoping to quickly find a spot where they could really put their “rizz” to use.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader

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2tarbell · 3 months ago

Note

vanilla birthday cake — send some dialogue 4 a short drabble with rafe + any of my !readers

mean!rafe + crybaby!reader “i don’t wanna know”

HAKSJSKSJKS

MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

participate in my bday celebration!!!

rafe had had just about enough. he wasn’t very patient to begin with but he was trying to be better — for her.

his poor little girlfriend that had a never ending supply of sorrow and tears. normally, around him, she was content as could be. and he was happy to indulge her and be the one to soothe her when external factors hurt her sensitive heart.

but she just wouldn’t stop crying.

today, she had to have set a new record. whimpering away next to him while rafe tried to get some work done on his computer. she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working, but crybaby just needed some attention. some love.

what if he was all quiet ‘cause he realized how annoying she was? what if—

“okay, what’s a-matter?”

her watery eyes flickered up to his deep blue and thundering ones.

rafe stared at her impatienty — fingers poised as if about to start typing. but his eyes held a question in them. an intensity that makes crybaby shrink into herself, eyes shifting and babbling for an answer while her shaky hands played with the buttons on her shirt.

“wha—? oh, um, s’nothing…”

not a good liar, but even worse at holding eye contact. rafe huffed and closed the laptop abruptly. he spread his legs further, setting the device somewhere beside him. she could be so difficult sometimes.

“kid, you’re over there, sniffin’ and shit — what’s the problem?” his voice was gruff and low, but so familiar and comforting in its own way. running a hand over his buzzed head in a way that always sent her heart racing.

“well, uh, i— i jus’— um…” the stuttered words came out clumsily, not a coherent thought in her head as she stared wide eyed at him. tears began to well anew.

“okay, okay— shut up. i don’t wanna know anymore, jus’— c’mere.”

god, she looked dumb with that look on her face. all frozen and tense as he tries to coax her closer. like a deer and a hunter.

rafe tilts his head to the side, a small smirk settling on his lips. he sees the moment she relaxes; eyes still wet and lip still trembling but she’s scooting closer nonetheless.

he scoops crybaby into his lap, strong arms circling her and pulling her into his chest. rafe sighs like it’s hard work — but the concerned furrow of his brow says otherwise.

she’s still sniffing, nuzzling her face further and further into his chest as she straddles him. trying to disappear fully into his warmth and affection. it’s like just being in his arms sends her into a daze. it’s made worse by his hand pulling her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

her rafe. that soft mumble only she’s privy to. his gentleness entirely reserved for her, for her moments of need. yet, she loves when he’s mean to her — in that dirty, knowing way he is. when her heart just feels so heavy and she doesn’t wanna think anymore. she craves that fuzziness only he can make her feel, a warmth pooling in her underwear. she needs it.

her voice is meek and barely audible when she huffs, “i jus’— today was so—”

rafe rolls his eyes, but tugs her closer. pressing firm kisses to her hairline and letting her ramble on about all the hard things she went through. she doesn’t register his wandering hands. it’s only when his fingertips are breaching her lace panties when she finally notices how he’s pushed her skirt up.

“hmf— rafey—”

her slickness makes a groan vibrate through his chest, fingers pressing forward until he’s prodding at that spongey spot just right. crybaby is hiccuping and sniffling again — eyes pitifully squeezed shut from the intrusion.

“shuddap, let daddy do this, yeah? getchu to stop whinin’ for once.”

based off this little thing i wrote!!!

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bluetimeombre · 4 months ago

Text

・❥ ‘Are you Hugh down under?’

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[not proof-read, some sexual innuendo, just Hugh being hot af]

part two

You and Hugh Jackman being in love for twenty-five minutes (part one)

Puppy interview

Did you take any props home with you?

'Yea, I took Hugh home,' you said, letting a puppy climb over you and onto your shoulders as Hugh laughed. 'In his suit as well.'

'In the suit,' he said, stroking the puppy in his lap.

'Yep. Great in the house, goes with all my furniture. He's well trained.'

Hugh nodded, enthusiastically. 'I'm not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other ways.'

You raise your brows and the crew laugh. 'I want to know what the other ways are now.' You smirk.

Hugh smirked back, shrugging his shoulders as he held up the puppy. 'Well, maybe you'll find out.'

What was your favourite scene to film?

'Any scene with the incredible talent sitting next to me,' Hugh started. 'Every scene was such fun and never felt like work when I got to work with her. I've never had so much fun playing a character. The whole movie at first, you know, the idea was up in the air for me about coming back but just to get the chance to work with such a talent- an honour and a privilege and I can't wait to do it again.'

Your lips pout into a smile as you listen to him. You focused on Hugh as he smiled at you. 'My favourite scene to film was when I touched his abs.'

He laughed.

'No, seriously it's been a dream of mine to work with Hugh and I can't talk about it too much cause I'd probably get emotional and that'd be embarrassing. I've grown an emotional attachment to him now,; you added.

Hugh looked around at all of the puppies. 'Is there more puppies here than usual?'

'Oh yea, there's more!'

'Someone's been making out,' said Hugh.

'Not us,' you said, leaning over.

He laughed. God, he was always laughing with you.

With Alison Hammond

The two of you sat next to each other, legs bumping into each other repeatedly to tease each other. At times you'd just throw your leg over his thigh and he'd bounce his leg. (Fans ate it up)

'Alright you two,' said Alison.

'Sorry,' you laugh. 'He's taking up too much space.'

'The Wolverine spread,' he said.

You laughed.

Alison gave her a loud laugh. 'Well, is it true, Hugh?' she asked. 'Are you huge down under?'

The three of you laughed, rocking back and forth and hitting your knees.

'I started the rumour,' you said. 'So, take that as you will.'

Hugh showed Alison his shoe as she fanned herself off.

You took another card she offered you and fanned yourself off as Hugh sat back, throwing his arms behind his head.

'So, we should probably talk about the film,' said Alison.

'Let's just talk about Hugh,' you said, leaning back just like he was. 'Ever won an Oscar, Hugh?'

He pulled a straight face at you.

'Now, can I say, Y/N, this is a bit awkward as usually it's just me and Hugh. Last time we had a date, so I've brought champagne, but only two glasses,’ she pulled off the cover that showed off the bucket.

'I'll take the bottle,' you said, reaching over the two of them. 'I can leave you guys, don't worry.'

Hugh grabbed your arm as you tried to leave. 'No, no, you can be our mediator.'

'Your intimacy coordinator more like,' you said as Alison laughed. 'I've seen how these interviews go Alison, I've never had Hugh feed me chocolates.'

Hugh reached over the table as Alison talked about 'a throuple' and he opened the box of chocolates, throwing away the thin layer of film covering them with his teeth. You only realised what was going on seconds before he fed you chocolate from his mouth. You tried to stay calm the closer you got and took the chocolate, chewing down happily.

'Feel like I'm interrupting something,' said Alison.

You stole the box from Hugh. 'Your turn, Alison!'

'So how tough was it working with Hugh, Y/N?'

You slapped your thighs dramatically. 'The toughest ever. You know sometimes I'd actually have to look at his face and I mean, have you seen this-' you frame his face, holding his chin. 'How can I work with this?'

He stuck his tongue out.

(Almost this whole interview was the two of you flirting)

Hot one's interview

'You're watching hot ones. It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we're joined by Y/N and Hugh Jackman, the stars of Wolverine and Ladypool.'

'I only let Wolverine come first so we could use the greatest showman in the movie,' you said. 'For Hugh.'

First wing and first question.

You and Hugh cheers with Sean before taking a bite. You nod, 'Good wing, subtle, nice.' You went in for another bite, surprising them.

'Oh, you're going for another bite,' said Hugh, eyes watching your lips (comments couldn't let it go).

'Yeah, I like things hot,' you tell him, giving him a dramatic wink.

'What was the movie that you watched of each other that made you realise you needed to work with each other?' asked Sean.

'As soon as I saw the first Ladypool,' said Hugh. 'I knew these two characters had to be together on screen. I was like these two characters had to be together and I'd literally announced my retirement three days before.'

'Mine was probably when I saw the first ten minutes of Australia,' you said, referring the first ten minutes in which he turns up shirtless and sweaty. 'Knew I needed to see it real-time.'

Hugh huffed out a laugh.

'Or Logan. That was, a masterpiece of a film.'

The next couple wings went down well, getting through the questions. It was the fifth when things started to get heated.

'Yep, that's a step up,' said Hugh as he went for the milk.

'Can you recall the most takes you've had to do for a scene requested by a director?' asked Sean.

'Our steamy scene in the car had quite a few takes,' you said, Hugh agreeing with a nod. 'Kept messing up, you see,' you said, winking.

'That was a difficult scene,' said Hugh.

'Why cause you had to kiss me?'

Hugh shook his head. 'That was the easiest part, I'm laughing, I'm not crying cause of the heat. But doing some of those... positions we had to do in the car, it was hard to work around.'

'I got cramp in my leg.'

He laughed loudly at the memory.

The next wing messed the two of you up, the heat creating sweat. All Hugh could do was laugh and you laughed at him as he went red.

'Look, look at this!' Hugh puts his arm up, showing his bicep.

'What am I looking at? Your raging muscles?' you ask, looking closer.

'No, the sweat.'

'Oh, sorry I was distracted.'

On the next wing, Hugh repeated he took too big a bite, how it was too big and all you had to do was give him a look with raised brows.

You and Hugh take a lie detector test

First hooked up was Hugh, you watched in glee as ties were wrapped around him.

'This is a new kink,' you said, smiling all too widely as Hugh laughed at you.

You started by asking him some simple questions that were easy answers, like his name and where he was born. 'Are you really Australian?'

'Yes.'

You looked to Louis. 'Tell me it's a lie.'

'Truth.'

'This Australian bit has got so far,' you say.

'You love it,' he said.

'We'll find out when I'm hooked up.'

'How you seen all my movies?' you asked.

He thought for a moment. 'No.'

'Deceptive.'

The two of you looked at each other with amused looks and big eyes. 'You can tell me you've seen them all, you can be a fan, I don't mind.'

He shrugged. 'Maybe I have.'

'You're a fan it's fine.'

'I'm wearing my I heart Y/N underpants today,' he said.

You looked wide-eyed and hopeful at Louis.

'Deceptive.'

You cheer.

'In 2008 you were said to be the sexiest man alive-'

'Said to be,' he scoffed. 'Pretty sure the right word is elected.'

'The question is how many copies of the magazine do you have?' you asked.

'How many do you have?' he threw back.

'I'm not the one on the fucking monitor right now.'

'A standard of fourteen hundred?'

'Is there any more to life than being really, really, really, really, really ridiculously good looking?' you ask, leaning back in your chair. 'That's not on the cards, I just want to know.'

'No.'

'Truthful.'

The two of you cackle. After a couple more questions it was your turn to swap. Hugh took delight in seeing you get tied up.

'Starting to sweat a bit,' you said. 'This really is scary.'

'Yea.'

Again, Hugh started off with some simple questions.

'Last one,' he said. 'Are you single?'

You pulled a straight face as he turned red and watched you. 'Yes, I am. Thank you for reminding me of that fact, Hugh.'

He shook his head. 'Don't worry, we can change that, we can change that.'

'Only if you're offering, bub,' you tease.

'Would you rather have had an Andrew Garfield Spider-man team up than Wolverine?' he asked.

Your jaw dropped as he showed you the question on the card. 'That's not fair I love spiderman and Andrew.'

'But do you love him more than Wolverine?' asked Hugh, feigning seriousness. He waited as you thought about it, head in his hand.

'True,' you said.

'That's a lie.'

'Ha!' Hugh shouted.

'I've shocked myself, man, I must really fancy you,' you said.

Hugh slid over a paper, showing you a picture of Channing Tatum. 'Do you think he would make a good Gambit?'

You try to act cool, he was already in the movie and Hugh knew it. 'Yes, I think he would. It's a shame his movie wasn't made. I feel bad for the guy.'

'Truthful.'

You pick up the picture. 'I love this guy, he's a great guy,' you stare down at the picture, 'He'd made a great Wolverine. I mean, I'm just getting lost in his eyes right now, looking at him.'

Hugh reached over. 'Ok, enough of that,' he took the picture and ripped it up, chucking it behind him.

You and Hugh at the premier

The camera snapped shots of the two of you wearing each other's colours. You were wearing a shimmering golden outfit while Hugh wore red. You had agreed to swap.

The two of you took pictures together, his arm wrapped around your waist, yours going between reaching up to hold his shoulder or holding his hands. You didn't stop for many interviews together, but you spoke a lot on the carpet. That tiktoker, the one good at reading lips had a field day on tiktok when she worked it all out.

Hugh: 'You look great in yellow, you know.'

You: 'You should see the colour of what I'm wearing under here.'

Hugh smirked and laughed. 'You look beautiful tonight.'

It was your turn to blush and tug him along the carpet.

#deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #x men #hugh jackman x reader

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months ago

Text

Waiting for the Green Light

word count: 863

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summery: As rain delays qualifying in São Paulo, Y/n and Lando share a heartwarming moment in the garage, wrapped in each other's warmth

______________________________________________________________

The rain continued to fall heavily on the São Paulo circuit, creating a rhythmic patter against the garage roof that provided an almost soothing soundtrack to the tension in the air. Y/n had shifted onto Lando’s lap, her legs draped over his in a way that felt both natural and electric. He was still in his full racing suit, the tight fabric accentuating his lean build and showing off the logos of his sponsors, while his fireproof undershirt peeked out from under the suit. The smell of rubber and fuel clung to him, mixed with a hint of adrenaline that never seemed to leave a driver even in moments of calm.

“Can you believe this weather?” she asked, trying to make light of the situation as she settled in, feeling his warmth radiate through the layers of fabric.

“Honestly? Not really,” Lando replied, his tone playful. “It’s like the rain gods have decided to ruin my day on purpose.” He chuckled, leaning back slightly against the cold metal wall of the garage, and adjusted her on his lap so she was even more comfortable. His hands were firm but gentle, one resting on her waist while the other found her knee, his fingers absentmindedly drawing small circles over her jeans.

The tension of the rain delay melted away as they shared this little moment together. Y/n relaxed into him, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder, enjoying the way his heartbeat drummed softly beneath her ear. The garage was alive with activity around them, mechanics hurriedly checking tires and adjusting setups, but here, in their own bubble, it felt like time had stopped.

Just as she was starting to lose herself in the warmth and closeness, a flash of light caught her eye. She turned to see a couple of camera operators from the media team positioning themselves nearby, clearly looking for the perfect shot of McLaren’s rising star and his girlfriend. Her heart raced, not just from the closeness of Lando, but from the sudden realization that they were about to be the center of attention.

“Oh no, they’re filming us!” Y/n exclaimed, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she instinctively ducked her head to hide her face in Lando’s shoulder.

“Y/n, look,” he laughed, his voice playful and teasing as he gently nudged her chin up with his fingers. “Let them capture the moment. I want everyone to see how lucky I am.”

Peeking out from behind her hair, she caught the proud gleam in his eyes. Lando’s demeanor radiated confidence, and as he looked straight at the cameras, a broad grin spread across his face, showcasing the dimple in his cheek that always made her weak in the knees. “This is my amazing girlfriend,” he announced, his voice playful but filled with genuine admiration. “She’s the best part of my life!”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, the shyness still lingering but overshadowed by her affection for him. She felt warmth spreading through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “Lando!” she murmured, trying to suppress a smile as she glanced at the cameras.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter, drawing her closer, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, ignoring the buzzing around them as he focused entirely on her. “Honestly, you should see how pretty you look right now, all shy and cute. I want to show you off to the world.”

The cameras captured every moment—the way Lando’s fingers danced lightly along her side, the way he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched her blush deepen. The crew around them murmured, impressed by the genuine connection between the two, a stark contrast to the cold and professional atmosphere typically found in the paddock.

“See? I told you, you’re gorgeous,” he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending little sparks across her skin. “And this?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “This is just the beginning of the day. I have a feeling things will heat up once they call us back out there.”

She chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes. “What do you mean? You want to take me on a victory lap?”

“If it means I get to show off how beautiful you are, then absolutely!” Lando’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it made her heart soar. The way he looked at her with such pride made her feel like the only person in the room, even amidst the chaos of the garage.

As they continued to wait, the rain began to lighten, and the crew prepared for the eventual announcement from the FIA. Y/n nestled into him, feeling safe and cherished. Lando’s racing suit felt slightly damp against her cheek, but that only added to the feeling of being enveloped in warmth.

“Just so you know,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair, “no matter what happens out there today, I’m glad I have you here with me. You make all this chaos worthwhile.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with affection. “And you make waiting in a damp garage the best time ever.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #fluff #f1 fanfic #reader insert #f1 x reader #lando noris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula racing #formula one #x reade

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mini-ism · 15 days ago

Text

#— NAUGHTY.

pairings: lighter x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 1,630

synopsis: caesar finds some particularly compromising videos on lighter’s phone when she shouldn’t be looking.

warnings: p in v, hair pulling, accidental voyeurism, praise kink, filming, amateur porn, rough intercourse, biting, blow jobs, light degradation (he could never be unkind to u), unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

notes: crossposted to AO3. ive been procrastinating this post ha

caesar knew she shouldn’t be snooping through lighter’s phone like this.

not without his permission, of course. she was just curious, she swore, just taking a peek at whatever dumb images he saved. maybe some of cute bangboo, or screenshots of tight leather jackets he might treat himself to later.

there was the occasional obligatory photo of him and the girls they insisted he take, of course some jackets and sunglasses he was looking at in person, photos of adorable animals he encountered on the streets. one question remained persistent — where were the photos of you he had saved? she’s seen him look down at his phone to peek at your texts, saving the selfies you sent him. caesar snuck a glimpse of his phone in her peripheral, pictures of you with a treat, or holding up a peace sign with a mutual friend. she couldn’t deny the smile that spread across his face, despite whatever you and him were.

but, extraordinarily enough, his camera roll was terribly boring. her thumb scrolled further, noting the organized folders on his phone. “friends,” “cute,” and an unnamed one. if only caesar’s snooping stopped there.

mindlessly, half expecting nothing, the barrage of photos and videos loaded. so this is where he kept everything he had of you? how adorable. caesar chuckled to herself at the occasional dumb photo of either you or him, there was a striking one of him in pigtails. his face was red with embarrassment, arms crossed and pouting like a fussy child, his hair in two short and choppy pigtails on each side of his head. that was surely a look. the next picture was a selfie of you and him with ice cream, he didn’t know he had a bit on his face while taking it.

the photos ranged from photos of you beaming next to an adorable kitten, to sultry photos you sent him late at night, pictures of you on his lap, images of you kissing him. okay, now she should put his phone down and pretend she never saw anything. nope, never touched it, didn’t look at all. the nagging voice in her head demanded she keep looking, intrigue getting the best of her. it was cute, she thought, what’s the harm?

the next swipes displayed a string of lewd photos back-to-back, some of you in a suggestive pose or kissing his neck.

oh my god.

oh. my. god.

she kicked herself internally for not putting his phone down earlier, nearly choking on her own spit. there it was, on his phone screen, a video of his dick right in front of your face. thankfully the volume was lowered, she pressed the side button a few times just in case, silencing it entirely. the video continued to play, your head in his lap as he sat on the edge of his bed, your body to the side as he held the phone down to capture the lewd sight at an entirely different angle. you slapped his shaft against your cheek a few times, giggling with amusement as his heavy cock made brief contact with your skin. after a few strokes, you ran your tongue down his length, making your way back up with a kiss to the tip. your tongue jutted back out to give a few more licks to the slit, licking up as much pre-cum as you could.

lighter’s free hand cupped your cheek, stroking the jawbone on the side of your face that you previously teased him with. his thumb then pulled the fat of your lip, bringing it down with a motion before letting it go. you eagerly swallowed his cock, only managing to take in a good few inches. lighter’s arm draped around your neck and shoulders, allowing you to suck his dick with no assistance. caesar looked around a few times, ensuring she was totally alone before upping the volume enough for only her to hear.

immediately, she could hear the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth working, your dominant hand stroking the base of his shaft as your lips managed the rest. lighter gave a few gentle praises, urging you further, his low groan ringing in her ears as you gagged trying to take more than you could handle. the video ended after you came up for a breath, stroking his cock as it rested by your cheek, your gaze loving and playful. it glistened with a thick sheen of spit.

with a shaky thumb, she swiped over to the next video. this one was filmed by you, angling the camera downwards enough. it looked like you two were in missionary, lighter on top of you. his voice could be heard, hand ungloved as it snaked down to stroke his cock a few times. he didn't have his jacket on anymore, either, sporting a shirtless look. his body was incredibly scarred, but his skin carried its own handsome charm. she could decipher the last few words he said, “— relax, i’ve got you. ‘kay?”

her eyes flicked down to you, as his hand moved to pull your underwear out of the way. he didn’t even bother taking them off, tucking them in the junction of your thigh and pussy. everything from the midriff down was exposed as you kept your legs spread open for him. your breathing was labored and shallow, likely from arousal. his hand tugged you closer to him, lining himself up with you. as he slid in, he pressed his hand onto the skin over your womb, applying a firm pressure. caesar could hear your cries, whiny and needy, his thumb immediately offering a semblance of comfort by dragging along your clit. his other hand grabbed the underside of your thigh, starting to pull out. his movements were loving and deliberate, attentive to your moans and shakes. your hands struggled to keep his phone stable as he picked up the pace, “you’re doing amazing, keep taking me.”

the video after was in a different position, his phone returned back to its original owner. the other hand held your arm back as he plowed into you from behind, face down and ass up. only your sobs of pleasure and the sound of skin against skin could be heard. his camera was angled perfectly to capture the unfiltered action, his cock sliding in and out of you with ample ease. with a grunt, he pulled your arm again, fucking into you with brutal thrusts. caesar never heard lighter curse that much in a few seconds, not even when he was seething with unbridled rage or injured and battered. “fuck, yeah, you like that? i know you do. goddamn tight, can’t live without this dick.”

the next video had another angle, his phone propped up against something presumably on his nightstand. lighter had both hands on your hips now, rocking your body back and forth as he dragged his hips in and out of your cunt. she could hear the bed frame below you two creaking and thudding against the wall. he was hunched over you, muttering in your ear between breaths, some words unsavory and vulgar, others sweet and encouraging. “need me? you need me to fuck you? you’re doing so good. you won’t let go of me, even if i tried to pull out.” his chest and abs were covered in sweat, locks dampened from the intensity. his lips trailed kisses from your ear, varying in intensity as they went down your neck. he nipped the skin, sucking it with feverish passion, biting your earlobe as he tugged at the hair above the nape of your neck. lighter pulled tightly, savoring your throaty mewl, “you love me? you love it when i fuck you? come for me. show me how much you love it.”

you muttered a few unintelligible words, grabbing at the sheets beneath you as your body shook with fervor, tears welling in your eyes with each helpless moan. lighter pulled harder, fingers intertwined deeply in your hair. in an instant, you trembled harder and cried out. wiggling your hips back and forth, seeking sensation to ride out your orgasm. lighter pulled your head back by the hair, spine arching as he pulled you up, knees still on the bed. you sobbed at the loss of his length inside you, suddenly feeling empty. lighter whispered in your ear, panting and flushed, stroking himself quickly. “that’s it, let me hear you, can’t help but come on my cock.”

with a final, deep stroke, lighter came on the lower part of your back right below the arch. your shoulder blades were flush against his chest. caesar paused the video, heat much more noticeable on her face and through her body. her cheeks were burning red, heart racing at the taboo of watching two people have sex. people she would argue she knows quite well. she closed out of his camera roll and put his phone down, turning it off.

the carnal lust in those videos she saw just couldn’t leave her. should she return his phone, or take a cold shower? should she leave it be, or mention she saw them having sex on his phone? no, no, nothing! don’t say a word at all. she didn’t see anything, she didn’t look through anything compromising. caesar sat in silence for a few more moments, processing what she had just discovered, jumping in her seat as lighter returned.

“hey, did you see my phone?” he approached her as she sat, his phone still in front of her on the table, “oh, there it is. thanks, boss.” lighter didn’t seem to notice her pale and clammy complexion, easily going about his business, unlocking it to send a text.

“yup.” caesar could only muster an uncharacteristically weak thumbs up.

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vanteguccir · 20 days ago

Note

idk if this is allowed cuz it’s hella freaky but dom!chris cumming in your panties as a punishment and you go out to run errands and if you must behave he rubs it in your cunt

── ୨୧ !　SMUT BLURB

pervert!chris sturniolo x reader

where chris came in your panties while you were out and now he's gonna make you cum while rubbing it in you

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The air in the room was thick, charged with tension, and the strong scent of arousal. Y/N lay sprawled across the bed, her body fully exposed to Chris’s intense gaze. Her skin was hot, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched him kneel at the edge of the mattress.

"Y'look so pretty like this." He hums thoughtfully, raking long, slim fingers around Y/N's ankle, traveling his short nails across her hypersensitive skin. "Should keep you like this forever."

The way his eyes roamed over her - hungry, possessive, and filled with desire - made her heart race, and her thighs press together instinctively.

But Chris wasn’t having that.

"Uh uh. Spread them, princess." He commanded, his voice low and rough, a tone that sent a shiver straight down her spine.

A whine escaped her throat as her body obeyed, her legs falling open to reveal her aching core. She felt exposed and vulnerable, but the fire in his eyes made her feel anything but ashamed. If anything, the intensity of his gaze only made her wetter.

In his hand, he held the delicate lace of her underwear - the pair she’d pulled out of their shared closet earlier, damp and wrinkled, full of his white and almost dry cum. He brought them up to his face, inhaling deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as if reliving the moment he'd came so fucking hard between the fabric. When he opened his eyes again, they were darker, his smirk dripping with sin.

"You smell so fucking good." He murmured, his voice like gravel. "I couldn’t help m'self, y'know? I had to touch my dick while thinking about this pretty little pussy of yours."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as a flood of heat pooled above her gaping hole, feeling her head spinning.

"Chris." She whispered, her voice shaky, barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

He leaned over her, bracing one hand on the bed beside her as he brought the lace between her thighs. The damp fabric brushed against her folds, and she gasped, her back arching off the mattress at the sensation. It was cool and sticky.

"Feel that?" He growled, his lips brushing against her ear as he moved the fabric with slow strokes. "That’s me, baby. All over your underwear."

Y/N’s breathing hitched, her body trembling as the fabric dragged over her clit, spreading the mixture of his cum and her arousal. It was filthy, decadent, and unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

"You're sick." She mutters, spreading her legs even more to his eyes and hand.

"Mm." Chris ignores her comment. She was right. He was probably just as sick as she was. "You’re cute like this." He teases instead, wetting his lips.

The damp lace clung to her sensitive skin, massaging her bud of nerves, the texture creating an amazing warm friction that had her thighs quivering.

"Chris." She gasped, her hands reaching out to grip his forearms, needing something - anything - to ground herself. "It feels so- oh, God- dirty."

He chuckled darkly, his free hand sliding up her body to cup her tit, his thumb flicking over her hardened nipple.

"That’s because it is, princess." He murmured, his tone dripping with lust. "And I know that you're loving it, huh?"

Her head fell back against the pillows, a moan tearing from her lips as her hips bucked against the underwear, feeling his middle finger covered with the fabric teasing her hole.

"Yes." She admitted, her voice a broken whisper. "I love it."

Chris groaned, pressing his palm against her clit, his movements becoming more deliberate, her pussy taking on an irritated red color by the second.

"You’re so fucking wet." He groaned, his eyes glued to the way her pussy moved under his touch. "So messy, all covered in me, right, doll?"

Y/N hums, then nods.

"Yeah, Chris." She agrees, forcing their eyes to meet as his hand kept moving. "S'your stupid fault."

Chris buckles his hips under her gaze, breath hitching and eyes lidding as he tries not to grind against Y/N’s legs.

"Can't' blame me for everything, pretty girl."

He smirked, leaning down to capture her lips in a rough kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with hers, creating a wet, messy kiss, their moans mingling as the tension in her body coiled tighter and tighter.

Without warning, he shifted the lace, wrapping it tightly around one of his fingers. He moved slowly while keeping her distracted with his tongue, pressing the covered digit against her entrance, teasing her with the slick, rough texture.

Her breath hitched, her eyes flying open to meet his already opened ones as he pushed it inside her in one unrelenting thrust. The sensation was immediate - raw, dirty, and deliciously invasive.

"Oh, God- Jesus." She cried out, her hips jolting at the unknown intrusion. The lace scraped against her walls, the friction bringing her the best feeling of pain and pleasure as he twisted his finger inside her.

"Feels good, doesn’t it?" Chris cooed, slowing his movements for a beat, drawing it out and making Y/N cry out in protest.

"Yes." She choked out, her nails clawing at his biceps skin. "Feels so good." Her clit throbbed so hard she swore she could feel it in her head. "M'so close." She whimpered, her voice desperate as her hips bucked into his hand, forcing his finger deeper inside her.

"Yeah? Then cum for me, princess." He growled, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you soak this. Show me how good it feels."

The combination of his words, the relentless thrust of his finger, and the rough texture inside her was too much. Her body arched off the bed, her thighs squeezing around his hand as her orgasm crashed over her in a violent, blinding wave.

"Chris!" She screamed, her voice breaking as her release flooded over him, soaking the lace even more. The mess was obscene, dripping down her ass cheeks, her entire body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure consumed her.

Chris moaned, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watched her fall apart beneath him.

"That’s it." He murmured, his voice thick with arousal. "Fuck, that's so hot."

He slowly pulled his finger out, the lace slick and dripping, and held it up to her lips.

"Open." He ordered, his voice rough with arousal. When she obeyed, he slipped the soaked fabric between her lips, letting her taste their mixed releases as he pressed it against her tongue. "Good girl."

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss from her forehead to her lips, tossing the ruined panties somewhere onto the floor without a second thought.

"You’re so beautiful." Chris muttered against Y/N's mouth, hand now pressing down into the small of her stomach. "I’ll never get enough of you."

She smiled weakly, breath hitching when Chris's fingers dip down towards her pulsing pussy before skirting back up.

"No way you're ever topping this." She mutters.

Chris grins.

"Is that a challenge, princess?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"!

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader smut #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x y/n #sturniolo triplets x reader

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luvyeni · 9 months ago

Text

❛ON CAMERA❜ ( h. hyunjin )

p. camboy!hyunjin x fem!reader w. 1.4k

warnings? masturbation, unprotected sex, filming, dirty talk

— 𖦹 ( hyunjin catching you watching you his stream and invites you to joing ) !

authors note. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away.

when you moved into your apartment your roommate made it clear what he did for a living— he was a camboy. You didn’t care though; rent was cheap, he bought most of the food and cooked, and he was nice — but curiosity eventually got to you and you looked up his name.

the first time you got off to his stream; you could barely look him in the eyes. Eventually you got over the embarrassment, using his stream as your main source of entertainment to make yourself cum on your fingers; he was completely unaware to your slightly perverted ways— well at least that’s what you thought.

much like many nights before, you found yourself spread out in your bed, laptop next to you; headphones in and your hands in you short, slowly rubbing your clit as hyunjin stroked himself, reading off certain comments.

“fu-fuck you want me to go faster?” *strokes faster* “if I go any faster im gonna cum all over myself.” *faster* “fuck i wish it was you i was cumming all over.”

that last sentence made you moan, quickly biting your lip so he would hear; moving your fingers faster as you worked towards your orgasm along with him — completely unaware that hyunjin knew what you were doing and he had known, and he was smirking.

He found out after using your computer, stumbling across a tab you kept up, clicking it and to his surprise— it was his account that popped. he thought it was cute, watching you struggle to look at him the next morning after a stream, stuttering over your words when he handed you a plate of food.

he's always wanted to fuck you— the moment you moved in; you were just so precious, you were a little shy and timid, slowly warming up to him, he was obsessed but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but listening to your moans from the other side of the wall, it seemed like you wanted it to.

“fu-fuck.” he whimpered, squeezing himself, the comments telling him to slow down; edging himself. “wo-would you guys be upset if i bought a guest.” he groaned, reading the comments.

fuck please it would be so hot.

i wish it was me.

im jealous

he smiled, knowing that last comment came from you. “good, i already know she’ll say yes.” he groaned. “she such a precious she’ll look so good on camera.” he stroked his cock faster, his cock twitching in his hand, he was about to cum. “and i know she’ll be a good girl for me on camera, cause she’s such a good girl for me in real life -shit- listens to everything i say.” he groaned. “oh fuck im about to cum.” the thought of him fucking you sending him over the edge. “fuck im cumming” his load shooting from his tip, landing all over his stomach

shit he’s so fucking hot

he came so much this time, must be thinking of that mystery girl …

when can we see her?

“you can meet her tonight, if she’s finished making herself cum on her tiny fingers while watching me, and just come into my room.”

your heart stopped— he was talking about you? he knew you were watching him? he wanted to fuck you— on camera nonetheless. “oh fuck!” you squealed, feeling yourself cum without warning. he smirked, his cock twitching as he heard you cum. “you guys can’t hear her right now, but she sounds so cute when she cums.”

fuck please go get her.

god i want to hear her now

fuck i wish it was me.

“you see that baby?” it felt like he was staring at you through the screen. “people are waiting for you, you don’t want to keep them waiting, do you?” you shut your laptop, slowly getting up; your clothes disheveled, opening your door, making your way down the hall to his room.

he heard your little knock on his door, his already hard. “there she is, told you she was a good girl.” he said. “come in baby.” you opened the door, standing in the walk way nervous. “don’t be nervous pretty girl.” he beckoned you in. “everyone is waiting for you.” he said.

you finally got the courage to walk to him, standing right in front of him. “good girl, let me ask you this.” he said toying with your waistband. “do you want to be filmed, because i’ll turn this camera off and fuck you privately, I don’t want you doing anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

That alone made you whine. “it-its okay.” he smiled. “then come sit and say hi.” he patted his lap, you slowly sat down, sitting on his cock, he groaned. “fuck princess, want to rip these clothes off.” He kissed your neck. “say hi to everyone.” You moaned as he bit down on your neck, working on your shorts. “h-hi.”

she’s so cute.

fuck I wanna watch her cum.

god he’s so lucky.

“i am aren’t i?” he pulled your shorts down throwing them on his bed. “get to see this cutie everyday.” he spread your legs, cursing in your ear. “such a pretty pussy.” he propped your legs on his, making you lean back. “look how pretty her pussy is.” you felt a wave of pleasure on your mound as he cupped your cunt, you moaned out. “hy-hyune.”

he sunk his fingers into your pussy, his fingers covered in your juices from your previous endeavors. “so wet for me baby, isn’t she so wet.” You heard all the donations coming in. “cant wait to have you on my cock.” You tightened around his fingers. “hyune im gonna cum.”

“should i let our good girl cum?” he said. “or should i edge her for being a bad girl and getting off to me like a little pervert.” You whined, wiggling in his lap. he slapped your thigh; making you stay still. “be good.”

make her cum please

edge her.

make her cum on your cock please.

“that’s a good idea.” He pulled his fingers out. “please.” You whimpered. “don’t worry princess you’ll get to cum on something better.” hyunjin wasn’t even worried about the camera. “sit up for me baby.”

He grabbed his cock, stroking it. “sh-shit, sit on my cock baby.” You moan, slowly sinking down. “hyune.” You moaned out. “fu-fuck princess keep going, you’ve taken most of my cock already.” He grunted as you sat down fully on him. “there we go, took me all the way.”

He held your hips, bouncing you on his cock. “fuck yeah princess, your pussy is so good.” He groaned. “I bet everyone is so jealous right now, that I get to fuck this pretty cunt -fuck- fill you up with my cock.” His hand came up to your tank top, pulling it down, squeezing your tits. “fuck hyunjin!” you screamed. “louder, let the viewers know how good im fucking you.”

“s-so good.” You moaned. “so deep.” His hand came to your clit, rubbing figure eights on your clit. “yeah, gonna cum for me.” You nodded. “gonna cum.”

fuck let her cum

shit she sounds so good.

i wanna watch both of you cum.

“fuck im gonna cum too.” He grunted. “when we’re done with this -fuck- im gonna turn this camera off and fuck you until you’re running from cock princess.” he moaned. “cum for princess.”

He spread your legs open, your thighs shaking, the knot in your stomach snapping, you gasped for air as you felt your juices pour out of you. “fuck hyunjin.”

she squirted fuck

so messy.

“fuck you made such a mess.” He moaned, his cock twitching inside of you, keeping you still as he fucked up into you, chasing his high. “gonna cum, where do I want it?” he tapped your clit. “you want it inside?”

“yes please.” You cried out. “fuck im cumming!” you felt his load shooting inside of your waiting womb. “shit.” His cock slipped out of you, giving the viewers a shot of his cum leaking out of you. “next time i want you to keep it inside for me.”

He grabbed your jaw, turning your head kissing you deeply. “you liked that?” he pulled away a fire still in his eyes. “y-yeah.” He smirked. “good , cause im not done.” he turned to the camera. “that’s it for you guys tonight.”

“but not for this pretty girl here, im gonna fuck her until her pretty little body gives out.”

©️LUVYENI

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thesunloveschips · 2 months ago

Text

Obsessed - Part 2 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Y/n gets even more horny. Meanwhile, Azriel is horny, obsessed, and is busy taking notes for their future home.

A/n: Comment if you want to be a part of the taglist because this is going to be a series!!

Warnings: reader's fantasies, Azriel's forearms, Azriel's fingers, Azriel's hands, Azriel's fantasies, too many thoughts about sex, Azriel being more delusional than reader.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Y/n did not understand how she did not faint when Azriel rolled up his sleeves when the meals were served in the flight because what in the everloving fuck were those forearms made of?

They were so huge and thick and veiny and she wanted that hand on her throat.

Why wouldn’t she?

She was a reasonable and prudent woman after all.

“Y/n?” Azriel called.

She smiled sheepishly. “Got lost in my head for a while.”

He smiled faintly and Y/n felt lighter as if he soul was ready to leave her body. This man should stop being so handsome for the sake of her sanity.

“Your meal.” He motioned his head and she looked down at the tray that he had settled while she was busy drooling over his forearms.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. And Azriel nodded. Y/n rolled up her sleeves, tied her hair quickly, and they began eating.

From the corner of her sight, she saw Azriel’s hands as they did something extraordinary.

He used the knife to spread butter.

Y/n suddenly found that she was quite similar to that butter.

Because the way she would spread for this man was no joke .

And. . .

And. . . his fingers had tattoos.

Gods, she could imagine how he’d fuck here with his fingers.

They were long fingers and he had large hands and Y/n could picture herself riding his fingers, begging for his cock and his mouth near her ear, whispering dirty promises.

She’d beg. She could imagine herself being shameless, begging him to fuck her so hard she’d cry and bite the pillow.

Y/n looked at her own butter and felt her cheeks warm up. She was ready to combust.

Sadly, he was spreading the butter and not her. Not that he’d have to put in any effort. She’d spread for him all on her own.

She was sitting next to the sexiest man she’d ever seen and he was determined to be so kind and friendly.

She was wet and going to the washroom repeatedly to change panty liners was going to make it seem like she had some other kind of problem.

She couldn’t even call up Nesta even if she went to the bathroom because. . . why was she even in an aeroplane?

Y/n was this close to having a nosebleed like an anime character.

She was a pervert and there was no denying it. Not when this man was sitting right next to her.

Being delusional with Nesta after reading a lot of smut definitely gave her mental peace.

If she fainted, would Azriel carry her in those huge, strong arms? If he did, she’d probably get up, see his handsome face, and faint again.

****

The flight was very nice. Azriel enjoyed a nice conversation with Y/n before their meal. After that, it did not take her too long to fall asleep.

Her head was against the window of the plane and he did not like that one bit.

Offended, Azriel carefully brought her head and made it lean against his arm. He sat back, proud of himself for supporting Y/n like this.

He wrapped his blazer over her. She let out a sleep-laced hum and clutched his arm.

Yes.

She was now clutching his arm like this.

Soon, she’d hold his arm at their wedding.

And she’d leave nail scratches on his arms when he fucked her senseless.

Something soft was against his arm. He looked at her, trying not to seem like a pervert but then he saw her breasts pressed against his arm.

Oh.

Yes.

The same breasts he’d fondle and suck.

Which would bounce as she rode him like the goddess she was.

His future wife and his future pillows.

Yes.

Life was sorted.

****

It was one thing to meet him. Another to have enough time to properly make his acquaintance. Another to be in the same flight.

As they headed to collect their baggage and when Y/n discovered that Azriel would reside in the same building as her, she really couldn’t believe it.

Was this really fate or something like it?

Drawing them closer and closer?

Was it her destiny to have her fantasies of this man fulfilled?

Y/n really needed to call Nesta and scream about this. So she made an excuse about needing the washroom. She quickly texted her best friend when the bitch had the audacity to not pick up her calls.

Y/n: Met the hot guy from the club at the airport. We had breakfast. Same flight and seated next to each other. And he’ll be living in the same building for the duration of his business trip.

Nesta was not even online. Y/n quickly pocketed her phone and left the washroom. Azriel was waiting for her, looking so handsome and graceful and immaculate as though an early morning flight did not tire him out.

She took a few seconds to admire him from a distance before walking over. But before she reached him, a woman had walked over and started talking to him.

Azriel watched the woman impassively, said something, and resumed looking at his phone. The woman walked away dejectedly and Y/n guessed she must’ve asked him for his number.

Curiosity made her ask. “Do you know that woman?”

He replied, still tapping away a message to someone. “I’ve never met that woman in my life. My car is here. How will you commute?”

“She seemed a little upset. I’ll probably book a cab.”

“I refused to give her my phone number.” He paused to ponder and then looked at her very seriously. “Come with me, Y/n.”

“What?” She sputtered. Y/n was more than ready to come on his cock or mouth or fingers.

“We have the same destination. Come with me. My car is already here.” Oh. His car. Okay.

“Oh. Um. If it’s all right then I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you.” She cheered herself at being able to spend more time with Azriel.

“Why wouldn’t it be all right?” He took her ridiculously large trolley and looked at her, ready to exit the airport.

“It’s your business trip. I’m assuming the office sent that car.” Y/n took his smaller sized trolley instead, glaring at him when he extended a hand to take that too. “At least, let me take this.”

Azriel nodded, his features softening.

She then continued. “So it’s for official purposes. Not for personal use.”

“I’ll handle it if anything comes. You need not worry about anything.”

Y/n felt fluttery. Had she wanted to hear those words in another context? Especially after how her life has turned into a shit show right after she’d finished her bachelors?

And Azriel had said that so naturally. As if he would handle anything and free her from worries.

Gods, she’d cry then and there.

Y/n closed her eyes and smiled softly. “All right. Thank you.”

“You tell me if you have any problems. We’re neighbours. We’ll navigate the new city together. All right? That means you rely on me. Okay?” He looked at her seriously.

And she found it charming that he’d ask such a thing. “Doesn’t that mean you rely on me too?”

“If you’d let me.” They reached the car and the sight of Azriel lifting that ridiculously heavy suitcase like it was nothing drove her crazy.

“Of course, you can. I make good food. And I’m great company if you ever want to just sit down and enjoy the silence.” He opened the door for her. Once Y/n was all settled in the car, he closed the door and entered from the other side.

Azriel turned to the driver and gave him the address and then turned his head to look at her. “People usually don’t advertise their company to enjoy the silence. I’ve heard them do that for talking or going out.”

“Well, I don't go out much. And I’m not always talkative. So, silences. . . are a necessity.”

“Yes.” He paused and looked at her face thoughtfully. “Thank you.” He smiled.

Y/n smiled back and looked at the window as naturally as she could pretend because this man seriously needed to give her a break from his perfect face.

Why was he smiling? Why was he so handsome? She would’ve probably choked on her food if she were eating.

****

This was becoming a problem. It wasn’t the first time someone had approached him for his number. But now that he’d met Y/n, he had to do something.

And then the solution struck him as he saw Y/n returning to him from her trip to the washrooms.

He needed to marry Y/n so that he’d have a wedding band for people to see and back off.

Yes. The solution was so simple.

Now that he thought of it, a lot of things would be sorted if he married Y/n.

Now, how was he to move forward with that?

“Azriel?” He wanted her voice to be a constant in his life. The way she said his name.

He’d learnt a lot about her by talking to her than any report could ever tell him. Appreciating silences was not something that could be reported.

Yes.

Y/n was perfect.

Now, how soon could he reveal to her that he was hers and she was his and give legitimacy to this by marriage?

****

They’d reached the building and received the keys from the security guard. And their flat was opposite each other’s.

Coincidence?

Azriel would spit at the idea.

There was nothing such as fate or coincidence. It was all about who picked up their lives and wrote the script. There would be unavoidable factors but how he responded to them was well within his control.

Azriel had picked up his script and written his fate. And signed the sale deed to this building.

Now that they reached their floor, Y/n looked at their doors and then at him. “We’re neighbours.” She sounded relieved.

“Yes.” Of course they were neighbours. He ensured that much.

“Thank you.” She turned to him and Azriel was now truly confused. “I’m glad I know someone in this new city. It’s an additional bonus to be neighbours. I might disturb you sometimes.”

Azriel had bought this building to be close to her. Being wanted and needed by Y/n was his real objective.

He looked at the walnut door behind Y/n. It was a nice door. Looked sturdy enough to not break while he fucked his woman against it.

“Do you want to go grocery shopping later?” He asked. It was pathetic how he wanted her as close as possible because being her neighbour wasn’t nearly enough.

“Yeah.” And then she yawned. He had half a mind to hoist her and put her to bed himself. “I’ll meet you in a couple of hours?”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “Here’s my number.” Azriel handed her a card. A fake visiting card he’d gotten printed so that she wouldn’t know he didn’t simply work at Umbra.

“Is WhatsApp convenient?”

“Yes.” And they parted ways.

Azriel looked at his apartment. It was not as fancy as the accommodations he’d gotten used to after taking over Umbra but definitely better than what the illegitimate bastard had from birth to college.

He pulled out a notepad and a pen and began thoroughly inspecting the apartment.

The walls were a serene pale blue. As he’d asked, his apartment had simple and elegant furnishing. His own room was painted navy blue.

He’d soon pay Y/n a visit and check if everything in her apartment was perfect. And if it wasn’t then the interior designer and the cleaners had him to answer to.

His bathroom was good. The washbasin and the mirror looked like yet another place he’d fuck her at. The shower cubicle was a little compact for both of them but the tub was a masterpiece.

He noted the size of the cubicle as something he’d need to remedy for when they purchased their home in the future.

Azriel could picture it as he positioned Y/n on all fours. How he’d tease her with his cock, and enter her with enough force that would push her body.

He frowned.

Azriel walked over and inspected the size of the tub and its attachment to the walls. there was a huge chance of Y/n hitting her head against the wall or her head being pushed into the water in the tub. He noted that.

The tub was very conveniently placed next to a window. He looked out and a more domestic vision came to mind.

Azriel and Y/n, a bubble bath, two glasses of wine, scented candles, and a conversation about how their respective days had been.

Yes.

And maybe they’d make sweet love here, with her riding him, kissing the side of his neck and face, whimpering and moaning softly. And then he’d grab her ass and pull her back down on his cock.

The windowsill was all right. One of them could sit there as the other went down on them but the edge of it did not seem comfortable. Another point to be noted.

And so, Azriel went ahead and noted everything that he’d have to keep in mind for renovation purposes.

His phone rang and he picked it up. He’d asked his secretary to purchase yet another something and they went over the details before he gave his approval.

****

They went to the nearest supermarket as planned and ended up dining outside since neither of them wanted to make any food after a day of travel.

“Why’d you come so early if your classes begin after four days?” It would seem to any normal person that he was making polite conversation with a tinge of curiosity.

But Azriel was actually trying to get information about her travel preferences and choices so that he’d customise their future travels accordingly.

He personally had no work in this country because he could work Umbra from any part of the world with a stable internet connection.

“It’s a little quirk of mine.” Y/n began. Azriel was now intensely interested. “When I go to other places, I go a couple of days early so that I’ll have time to settle in. The only exception is probably a holiday.”

He took a sip of his wine and waited for her to continue. “Like if my classes begin on Monday, I prefer to reach by Friday or Saturday so I’ll have enough time to settle down in my accommodation, clean, arrange my things, go grocery shopping, and so on. So by the time Monday comes, I’m not worrying over where the things are or what am I going to eat or anything like that.”

Ah, yes.

His Y/n was a practical woman.

They’d be entering a very happy marriage.

They’d raise good children like this.

He suddenly felt a dash of pride at not just Y/n but also for himself. He’d not wasted a moment in getting to know this woman.

Who knows what he’d have done if he did the foolish thing of mistaking her to be a random passerby?

Probably rot around with no purpose in life.

His mother could rest easy.

After all, he’d found the object of his greatest obsession and darkest desires.

****

It had been three days since Azriel had properly spent time with Y/n. He was beginning to feel like he had no purpose in this world.

If he texted or called her, he’d come off as a desperate man with no other work to do than begging for her presence, which he was.

But he had to pretend like he had some dignity before he slowly revealed his real self to her.

Y/n was a strong woman. Her choices in life proved it. He’d read a comprehensive report about everything related to her.

The lowlife who once had the rare fortune of being her boyfriend and was stupid enough to hurt her was now caught up in a case of tax evasion. How sad. Moving on.

Azriel looked at the sky and sighed. He could work, read novels, go to the gym, or do anything but. . . where was his Y/n?

And then a thought struck him.

Had Y/n already considered him someone to keep a distance from? He began analysing their every interaction and couldn’t come up with anything.

He’d always made the impression that he was a reliable, financially well-off, responsible man.

Or was it that she wasn’t attracted to him?

Y/n’s choices in men were sadly very poor but none of them compared to him in terms of face or body.

Wait. . . did she prefer mediocre men with toxic behaviour?

That wouldn’t do.

His plan was to slowly reveal his real self to her. Being the worst version of himself right from the beginning would scare her.

Y/n had to know who he was but she also had to know what he felt for her and what he would do for her. As for what he wouldn’t do, such a thing probably did not exist.

She had to know that she’d be his priority—over his anger, his ego, his pride, his wealth, his life, and. . . what else was there? Basically everything else.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair and sighed. The sound of the doorbell brought him back to reality. He marched over and opened the door to reveal Y/n with a bowl of lasagna in her hand.

“May I come in?” What was an apartment when she’d entered his life and engraved her ownership on every inch of his being.

“Yes.” He managed to soften his voice but maybe not his expression because she looked worried as she looked at his face.

“I’m so sorry for not contacting you these three days.” She swiftly began and thrusted the lasagna into his hand. “I was studying and cleaning and I lost track of time and I hope this. . . I mean, I make good food so this is my best. . . My best dish.”

Y/n was apologetic and embarrassed at the same time. And obviously, like any rational, prudent, sensible man, he found her endearing.

“Come in, Y/n.” She entered the apartment and he closed the door.

****

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 month ago

Text

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19

Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesn’t call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasn’t such a light sleeper, she would’ve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?

So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, she’s a little short with him.

“Finally, Steven,” she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. “I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, sounding contrite. “We sort of fell asleep.”

Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. “You guys slept together?” she demands gleefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” he shouts, and she’s glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. “We just fell asleep!”

She’s still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. “Does that mean it went well?” she wheedles.

She doesn’t think that Eddie would suddenly realize he’s straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she can’t get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.

“Well—” he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. “He took me to see some shitty horror movie.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers, full-on grinning now. “What a stereotypical move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. “Except he barely talked to me the whole time and didn’t even try to hold my hand.”

“No!”

“And then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.”

“No!” she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steve’s own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. “And you still spent the night?”

“He was nervous!” Steve defended. “And besides, the second kiss was much better.”

“Your boy’s a fast learner, huh?”

Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, “yeah,” with a dreamy sigh. “He took me stargazing.”

Chrissy coos, can’t help it, not when this whole thing’s been building for so long now. Not when there’s been an edge of fear to everything Steve’s said for months. He deserves something nice for once.

“And you’re going out again?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replies, and a knot of fear she’s had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.

He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. She’s got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheer—she’ll manage just fine.

So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, “a word, madam?” she’s ready to kill him.

But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and he’s smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.

Even Jason doesn’t protest from the other side of the table where he’s quietly seething.

So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.

Eddie doesn’t seem to know where he’s going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.

He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.

Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so she’s facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.

When he doesn’t say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, “I hope you know that if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,” Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. “But, I’m not here to talk about Steve.”

“Then—what?”

He’s grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. “We’re friends, right?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s choosing each word with deliberate care.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. He’s picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. “Why would you ask that?”

He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?” he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. “Steve’s great, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, you still lied to me—"

"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.

"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feels…”

“Shitty,” she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.

“Yeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."

Chrissy sighs. She’d known they’d have to talk about it eventually–clear all this stale air so they could move on–but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. But, he’s right; no matter their intentions, they’d all made a mess of things. She’d known that even as she’d been in the thick of it.

So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “I’m sorry.”

He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Eddie, just like that,” she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. “We were just trying to protect each other, but that doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if he’s not used to receiving apologies at all.

“Both of you?” he asks.

Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. “You know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?” she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. “Well, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.”

It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when she’d opened her door to Jason smiling at her like they’d never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when he’d scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.

The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it.

“So, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,” she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. “He’d be my boyfriend, and I’d help him with the letters.”

She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But he’s squinting at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to crack as he says, “you totally would have helped him anyway,” with so much conviction that it warms her.

“Oh, definitely.”

He’s still looking at her, but he’s smiling at her, eyes warmer than she’s ever seen them.

“Alright, I forgive you,” Eddie says, like it’s easy.

It’s too easy.

“Just because we had reasons doesn’t mean it was fair to you,” she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. “It doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt,” she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.

He doesn’t jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. “You know there was a time when you touching me like that would’ve sent me into a tizzy,” he says, still looking down at her hand.

“And now?”

“Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. “It was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.”

“You either, Eddie Munson,” she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. “Now is that it, or was there something else you needed?”

He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, she’s almost worried he’ll faint. “I, uh, well, the jacket?”

She thinks of Eddie’s jacket beneath her first, but that’s not where he’s looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steve’s letterman with a sort of longing that’s almost funny in its intensity.

She doesn’t ask any follow up questions—if he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, it’s Steve’s no matter how attached to it she’s become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She’d do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.

Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through her–she feels almost naked without its familiar weight.

Since that first day in the library, it’s been her shield against Jason’s pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, she’d still have Steve.

But, Jason’s backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boys–even Robin. Her life’s full to bursting in a way that it’s never been before.

Chrissy will miss it, but she doesn’t need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and she’s not above stealing something else from his closet.

“Jeff’s going to be sad,” she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like it’s a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. “He really liked it.”

Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, “do I need to get this thing dry cleaned?”

Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. “No, but if you would’ve waited a few more days, you might have.”

He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesn’t put it on. She wonders if it’s fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeff’s bodily fluids that stops him. She’s polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, “Wait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?”

She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague “both,” but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like he’s afraid of what she might say. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really, really don’t need to know.”

Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddie’s own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. It’s even baggier than Steve’s was on her, clearly designed for layering. “I’m borrowing this,” she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. “It’s cold today.”

“Don’t do any weird sex things with it!” Eddie calls.

She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.

When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, “that Eddie’s?” as he buckles his seatbelt.

“He wanted Steve’s,” she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.

“I’m going to miss that jacket,” Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissy’s becoming increasingly familiar with. “You know—”

“Eddie requested that we don’t ‘do any weird sex things’ with his jacket,” she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.

Jeff groans like he’d been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. “But, I’ll get your mind off it in no time.”

Jeff gulps, and doesn’t utter another complaint for the rest of the night.

***

Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what they’re talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robin’s nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.

Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But he’d sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that he’s like her and he’s happy.

Maybe there’s hope for her, too.

Robin’s broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. “Should we help him?” Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.

All the losers he’s still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissy’s vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.

Robin’s out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. “Harrington!” Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. “Come help me win a bet!”

He’s up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like he’s got the plague.

“What’s the bet?” he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.

Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, “the bet was whether you’d come when you’re called.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.

“Poor little puppy,” she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.

Vickie’s laughing from beside her; it rings through Robin’s ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steve’s hair.

He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steve’s shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.

“Not a word, Harrington, or we’re through,” she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.

“You guys are so funny,” Vickie says, still laughing.

Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like it’s a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.

Chrissy and Eddie don’t come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. She’s sure they’ll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.

She loves him so much, it’s almost stupid.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh?” Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.

“I mean, yeah?” Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. “He’s just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend I’ve ever had, which is crazy—it’s crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, right?” Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. “Who would’ve guessed?”

When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickie’s smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robin’s bare arm.

“I don’t know, I always thought he seemed nice.”

Robin’s nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isn’t nice. He’s an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but he’s not nice.

“He’s like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,” her mouth says.

Vickie’s mouth laughs in return, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

Robin’s mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.

God, Steve’s going to be such a bitch about this.

***

After Eddie’s talk with Chrissy, things shift.

Steve doesn’t sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.

For his part, all Gareth says is, “does this mean you two’s weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?”

Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.

“What?” Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.

“They’ll tell you when you’re older,” Doug replies despite having no idea himself.

Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.

By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.

“Munson, I can’t do this split custody thing anymore,” she says, making the red-head that’d followed her over giggle. “They’re too much of a handful.”

“Or maybe even two handfuls,” Steve replies, across the table at her like he’s not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.

“Don’t be gross, dingus,” she scoffs, and Eddie’s mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldn’t be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.

“Are you guys coming back to Hellfire?” Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing what’s going on a second longer.

Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. “I’d like to.”

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steve’s feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, “you know this means you’ll have to come to Steve’s basketball games,” and he slams his mouth shut.

Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like they’re already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.

“We can sit together,” Jeff says, but he’s not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissy’s blushing face. “It’ll be fun.”

Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadn’t put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steve’s palm.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he drawls, lips brushing against Steve’s hand with each word.

“What the hell is happening?” Gareth demands.

Much to his dismay, no one replies.

Things slide back to normal after that—Chrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, it’s better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddie’s lips.

It’s driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.

But that’s not something that’s allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesn’t know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steve’s.

There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: don’t stand too close, don’t look too long, don’t dare to touch.

He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Gareth’s garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.

But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and he’d like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.

So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesn’t lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

***

Robin’s been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.

“You plan this, Birdie?” he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold that’s seeping up from the floor.

Robin’s face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. “Boobies,” she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. “Boobies, yes,” he chokes out. “I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

That’s all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she whines, still trying to kick him.

“Okay, okay!” he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. “Sorry, just—what’s this about boobies?”

“Stop saying boobies!”

Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robin’s cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.

“Vickie—”

And Steve can’t help it, he really, really can’t. “Has nice boobies?” he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.

“I hate you!” Robin shrieks, but even she’s laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while he’s defenseless. “Steve Harrington, you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

She tries to say it with conviction, but Steve’s hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.

“Get your boy cooties off me!” she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until she’s leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, feeling lighter than air. “Now tell me about Vickie’s girl cooties.”

Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. “Vickie doesn’t have cooties,” Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. “She walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And maybe it’ll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and Eddie…” Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. “Maybe there’s more of us out there than I thought.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. “Maybe there are.”

They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes they’ll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each other’s smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.

“We should get married,” he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robin’s eyes bug out of her skull. “Just think about it! Eddie and I can’t get married, and neither can you and Vickie—”

“You’ve literally gone out with the guy once, and we don’t even know if Vickie likes girls yet—”

“—but we could totally just marry each other instead!”

The silence of the bathroom rings once Steve’s declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if he’s stepped over some line he didn’t even know was there.

Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steve’s hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.

“Ow, Robin!”

“You’re insane, Dingus, you know that?” she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. “I’m sixteen, and you’re proposing in the boy’s bathroom.”

She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesn’t even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.

“I meant like, later?” Steve says shyly.

He’s always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. It’s a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earth’s always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who don’t always give it back.

But Robin’s on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking what’s either snot or tears into his hair. “Alright,” she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. “When I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.”

Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. “Grow old in separate bedrooms,” he replies.

“Gotta keep our cooties separate,” she says, like she’s not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boy’s grimy bathroom.

He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. “Tell me about Vickie,” he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.

“Okay,” she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.

PART 21

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #me in a steddie fic: but what if robin and steve get married #also shoutout to gareth for now being the oblivious one

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entitled-fangirl · 4 months ago

Text

Dagger.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan teaches the reader how to use a dagger.

Warnings: weapons, violence, sparring, talks of sex

A/n: Based on an ask!

Masterlist

.................................................

"Now, try to attack me."

Y/n held Cregan's dagger in her hand, a hesitant look in her eyes, "No."

He crossed his arms in frustration, "Why not?"

"I'm going to hurt you."

"You won't."

"You're asking me to swing a dagger at you!"

Cregan stepped up to her and grabbed her by her biceps, "Look at me. You will not hurt me."

She sighed as she stared up at Cregan.

…

Cregan rolled over in bed and kissed the sleeping woman's cheek. "Get up, my love. We have a busy day."

She stirred, her eyes peeking open then shutting again at the brightness from the window.

The Lord of Winterfell tilted his head as he watched her, amused. "Awaken, my slumbering wife," he teased.

She let out a soft groan and rubbed her eyes. "A little longer…"

He smiled and pulled himself on top of her, "C'mon, beauty. I've something planned for us."

She forced her eyes to open again and she looked up at him. "What is it?"

He gave a playful shrug, "Suppose you must find out."

…

"When you said you had planned something, I did not think it would be your wife attacking you with a dagger."

"Aye, but doesn't that make the day all the more exciting?" Cregan chuckled.

Her eyes widened incredulously. "No!" She argued. "No, it doesn't! I'm not attacking you, Cregan."

"Then how would you ever learn?" He counter argued.

Her brows furrowed. "Learn what?"

He chuckled again, "How to use a dagger."

"Oh." She looked down to the dagger then back to him. "But, it's not exactl-"

"-Ladylike? I know." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Perhaps I don't care if you look ladylike."

Gods, he was a wonder.

She took a breath. "Alright." Her thumb ran over the plain handle of his dagger in her hand. "I'll do it."

A bright grin spread across his face. "Sweet girl, you're not gonna regret this."

"I wasn't finished," she remarked.

"Ah, continue then."

She walked forward slowly. "I will do this," her body began to near him, "if you do something for me."

His brow raised, "And what is that?"

Her chest nearly touched his as her head tilted up to look at him, "Anything I want for the rest of the day."

"Anything?"

She smirked and stood on her tip-toes, her lips barely brushing his. Her voice lowered, "Anything, my love."

He visibly gulped, keeping his self-control intact. Usually, he wouldn't care, and abandon any task to take her to their chambers and have his way with her, but this was important.

He needed to do this.

Noticing his restraint, she brushed her lips against his again, trying hard to break him.

A low breath escaped his nose and his jaw clenched. "My girl," he muttered as a warning.

Her smile grew to a sweeter one. She nudged her nose against his, then kissed his cheek and pulled away.

He let out a relieved breath, "Alright. Now, do your worst, Lady Stark."

…

The blade was knocked from her hand once again, making her let out a frustrated grunt.

She ran a hand through her hair as she looked up at him. "Cregan, I can't keep doing this."

Cregan let out a breath, not letting her frustration fester. "C'mon. You're doing so well."

"I have yet to best you," she pointed out. "And you don't even have a weapon!"

He reached out and grabbed her bicep, pulling her to him then grabbing her chin with his other hand. "You don't wish to surrender."

Her brows furrowed, "Why not?"

"Cause then I'll get anything I want for the day instead."

A small fire lit up behind her eyes at the thought. He knew exactly how to bring out her competitive side.

In all honesty, Cregan would've given her anything she wanted regardless, but it added a spark to their sparring.

She pulled herself from his hands, moving to grab the dagger from the dirt. "I'll best you. We won't leave until I do."

He chuckled and held up his hands, "Very well."

…

Cregan let in a gasp when he was caught off guard.

Y/n stood with one hand on his shoulder, the other pocking the tip of the dagger against his stomach.

She froze, looking down at the blade and then back at him before letting out an exhilarated laugh, "I did it!"

He grinned, panting, "Aye. You did."

She threw the dagger to the side and jumped up to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and Cregan was quick to catch her. "I did it!" She laughed again.

He wasted no time, moving a hand from her waist to the back of her head, pushing her head towards him and locking their lips.

She reacted quickly, and the adrenaline was still evident in her movements. She let out a soft moan.

She pulled away just barely, "I have say for anything now?"

His eyes looked from her eyes to her lips, "Aye."

"Take me now."

His brows raised, "Hmm?"

"Take me now. In the woods. Here."

A soft groan left his lips. "You don't know what you're asking, my love."

"I do," she argued. "You said anything."

He looked around carefully, contemplating the thought.

When he decided it a fair idea, he quickly brought his lips back to hers, moving to lower her down to the forest floor.

…

Y/n entered their chambers a few hours later, her hair a mess and her cloak half-hazardly strung across her shoulders. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing at a new sight.

A wooden box laid on her side of their shared bed, a small paper next to it.

She neared it, picking up the note.

"For my pretty little wife."

She opened the box hesitantly before her eyes widened at what laid inside.

A small dagger laid inside, the handle intricately carved. The Stark sigil towards the end of it.

"Do you like it?" A voice echoed through the room.

She gasped, turning to see Cregan leaning against the doorframe with a smile.

"It's beautiful."

"Aye," he pushed himself from the frame to walk to her. "May it serve you well."

"It's too much."

He shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Don't be foolish. I had it made for you, pretty girl."

She turned back to the box, letting her fingers trace over the carving. "Truly?"

He leaned against her back, nipping at her ear playfully. "Had it made last week. I've been waiting to teach you how to use one before I give it to you."

"Thank you."

He kissed her cheek this time.

She turned around to face him, "I have had my time. Now it is yours."

He frowned, "Time? For what?"

She grinned, turning to move the box and place it on the ground next to the bed. Y/n turned back to Cregan. Her hand reached up and pulled on his tunic, pulling him onto the bed as she moved backward onto it in front of him. "Anything you want."

"You're ready again?"

"Very much so."

Cregan nodded and leaned closer to her, "Then we shall."

Their lips met, starting a long night for the two.

...........................................

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne

#fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #cregan stark x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon #game of thrones fanfiction #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfic #hotd cregan #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #house stark #game of thrones fic

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poisonlove · 2 months ago

Text

la maledizione degli Addams²

Pairing: wednesday Addams X reader

Wednesday had been avoiding you, deliberately ignoring the itch she felt every time you were near, focusing solely on her investigation. Though it pained her to avoid the deep connection with her soulmate, her determination to solve the mysteries surrounding her took precedence over any emotion. Her investigations had paid off: she had discovered a secret library that led her to the book with the missing page about Rowan (luckily after the Poe Cup), and she had followed her leads into the woods during Outreach Day, finding the lair of the monster and planning to visit it with Eugene.

But unfortunately Enid had dragged her to the Raven.

Wednesday had chosen to use Tyler as a scapegoat. The normal boy, attracted to her, represented a useful resource for her goals. She knew she could exploit his interest to focus on her investigations while distancing herself from Galpin.

But when she saw Eugene with his backpack ready for their excursion, a pressure tightened in her chest. The disappointment on Eugene’s face was palpable, an expression that struck Wednesday in an unexpected way.

"Don’t go into the woods," she told him, her black eyes fixed on him with an intensity that sent chills down his spine.

"We'll go after the party. Stay close" she added.

At the entrance to the ballroom, the itch she had felt grew more intense. Without thinking her eyes began to search for you among the crowd. There you were. A burning fire ignited inside her and in an involuntary gesture she clenched her jaw, producing a crack that revealed her growing frustration. The sight of Yoko, your dance partner, only fueled her irritation.

Damn curse.

The Addams curse that she had always considered both a blessing and a burden now amplified her feelings, making each moment even more painful.

The image of Y/N laughing and enjoying herself with Yoko struck her like a blow to the heart. A pang of pain spread through her chest as if her soul was being torn apart. Every smile from Y/N, every glance exchanged with Yoko felt like a mortal wound.

Wednesday found herself caught in a tearing conflict: on one side was her untamed nature pushing her to keep her distance; on the other an overwhelming desire to get closer, to reconnect with you even if it meant facing vulnerability.

Her gaze involuntarily shifted to Yoko.

The vampire with her charming smile and relaxed demeanor only amplified Wednesday's frustration.

"Damn it," she thought as her hands tightened around Tyler's arm. She wanted to run away but she knew she couldn’t. Her soulmate was there and despite everything, the urge to move closer was undeniable.

Yoko chuckled softly as she noticed how sparks were crackling around your body. You could control lightning. Likely due to the intensity of Wednesday’s gaze, Y/N turned away from Yoko and directed her eyes in Wednesday's direction. By some twist of fate, you were the only two girls in the entire school wearing black dresses at a party where white was the required attire.

Enid's figure suddenly appeared at the entrance, blocking Wednesday’s view of you.

Damn.

"Wednesday! Oh my God, you look amazing!" the blonde exclaimed, bubbling with excitement. Enid was wearing a beautiful white dress with a touch of purple makeup on her face.

Strange.

Wednesday’s gaze shifted to the girl’s date.

"Strange choice for your date," she murmured in a flat voice. Her eyes shot a cold glare at the mayor's son, the leader of the trio that had tried to attack her twice.

The boy shuddered.

"Oh... he came to make his ex jealous, and I wanted to make Ajax jealous," Enid said with a shrug.

Her eyes darted to Tyler.

"Tyler! Are you Wednesday's date?" she asked in surprise, her blue eyes studying her roommate with intensity. "Yeah," the normal boy scratched his head, clearly embarrassed.

"I’m going to get a drink," the curly-haired boy added, leaving her alone with Enid.

"You know, I thought you’d come with Y/N," the blonde said casually, "You two... I don’t know... have great chemistry," she added with a small smile.

A shiver ran down Wednesday’s spine at the mention of your name.

"It seems to me she's having fun with Yoko," Addams murmured with venom, her eyes scanning toward your figure.

Despite the discomfort that enveloped her Wednesday launched into the dance. Her movements were distinct, rigid yet fluid, her hands tracing sinuous precise gestures, her steps seemingly defying the rhythm of the music itself. But during one of those turns her hand accidentally brushed against another’s.

As soon as the fingers touched a jolt of energy shot through her body like thousands of electric shocks sliding across her skin, like invisible spiders crawling in her stomach leaving her paralyzed for a moment. Her breath caught in her throat and her head tilted back in an almost unnatural movement, her eyes wide open toward the ceiling.

A vision struck her with the force of lightning.

The world shattered around her, the party lights vanishing and transforming into blinding flashes. Screams and distant voices echoed in her ears overlapping in an indistinguishable chaos. Among the flashes she glimpsed Crackstone, his menacing figure looming like an impending shadow. Then, like a distorted image, a wedding: black dahlias, a black dress, hands united in an eternal bond all enveloped in a disturbing aura.

Wednesday's body was as rigid as a tightly drawn string, her hands stiff by her sides, every muscle tensed under her pale skin. Her face was twisted in an expression of pure terror as her breath came out in ragged gasps.

And then, everything faded.

The vision dissolved leaving her shaken and trembling, her head still thrown back. Slowly, she tilted forward again as her eyes refocused on the ballroom now again wrapped in the dim lights and chaotic movements of their schoolmates. But the sensation of disorientation persisted, like an echo of the vision that still throbbed in her temples.

She felt something warm on her shoulders and realized it was your hands, steady and sure, supporting her. You had moved closer during her moment of weakness, your Y/C eyes fixed on her with a mixture of concern and alarm. Your expression was tense, your breath quick.

The curse.

Her body seemed unresponsive for a moment, her legs still unsteady. She felt a strange, dark current flowing between the two of you, as if physical contact had been the catalyst for a force that had awakened within her.

"Are you okay? It looked like a vision," you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. Your tone was low, meant only for her, as you tried to understand what had happened.

Wednesday took a deep breath trying to regain control over the turmoil inside her, but she clearly felt the effects of the curse coursing through her veins. An invisible tension tightened her chest, pulling her forward, almost as if she were compelled to move closer to you. She took a step forward closing the distance between you and her gaze locked determinedly onto yours.

"Yes... I was dancing with Tyler... then I had a vision," Wednesday said in a flat tone, her dark eyes tracing every detail of your face trying to grasp something she couldn’t quite understand.

"Tyler left," you responded, your voice breaking slightly as if admitting that truth cost you more than you wanted to show. Then you clenched your jaw, your expression hardening and in that moment Wednesday swore she saw a flash behind your irises, a reflection that seemed to conceal a storm.

A question crossed her mind like lightning: were you jealous?

Without thinking Wednesday’s hands moved sliding from your shoulders to encircle your neck. The skin beneath her fingers was warm and she felt a shiver that shook her from within like a fire igniting in her chest and consuming her from the inside. She felt... overwhelmed, as if the tide of sensations enveloping her was pulling her underwater leaving her breathless. Her heart pounded in a way she had never experienced before, a frantic and unfamiliar rhythm that muddled her thoughts.

The itch that had overwhelmed her before was gone.

Instead a heat consumed her and pushed her closer to you, as if the simple touch of her hands on your skin was the only thing keeping her upright.

Maybe it's because we touched? she thought for a moment, her mind tangled between logic and instinct searching for an explanation.

"Wednesday, I..." you began, your voice hesitant, almost fearful, as if you were afraid of the reaction you might provoke.

At the mention of her name on your lips Wednesday barely stifled a moan, a low sound escaping from her throat and echoing deeply in her chest. It was as if the sound of her name spoken by you held a different weight, an intensity that made her bones vibrate and burned inside her. Every fiber of her being sensed that this was different, that there was something strange and unstoppable between the two of you, a force she couldn’t fully understand but could not ignore.

"Cara mia" Wednesday whispered, her words almost too intimate, laced with a subtle darkness that sent a shiver through you. Her hands around your neck tightened pulling you closer with a determined hungry strength.

Your cheeks flushed red, a blush that Wednesday watched with hungry eyes.

For a moment the world around you seems to disappear, dissolving into the silence that exists only between the heavy breaths that bind you together. Her mind is overtaken by a primal desire and all she wants is to taste your lips, to feel the warmth of your mouth on hers. She realizes that she wants to consume you whole as if that were the only way to quell the fire burning inside her, as if that were the only way to make you hers.

For the first time she understands what drove her parents toward each other with such intensity. Why Gomez could never stay away from Morticia, why every gesture between them seemed to almost defy the rules of propriety with their passion. But that thought blends with something else, a deep disgust for herself, for how quickly she has yielded to this impulse abandoning her rigidity and her ideals just because of a single touch from you.

Just as this internal struggle rages, a cold drop hits your cheek followed by another that slides down your nose tracing a scarlet path. The sensation of something wet and viscous on your face breaks the moment and when you look up, a red rain begins to fall, like blood pouring from the ceiling, staining your faces and clothes.

Chaos erupts around you.

The other students begin to scream, pushing against each other in a desperate attempt to escape the ballroom. Bodies collide and stumble in a frantic rush, slipping on the floor now covered in blood. The lights flicker on and off in a pulsing rhythm amplifying the panic.

But you remain still, trapped under Wednesday's gaze, her lips curling into a wicked smile. The urge to run her tongue along your cheek to taste you mixed with the blood overwhelms her.

Suddenly a body crashes into her, shoving her violently to the side. Wednesday whirls around, muscles tense, fists clenched ready to retaliate against the intruder. But right in that moment her gaze goes lank and another vision seizes her, ragging her into a spiral of confused and painful images.

She sees red boots stepping on the ground, staining themselves with the dark red that flows like a river. And then a familiar face distorted by the pain caused by the beast's attack:

Eugene.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #jenna marie ortega #wednesday fanfic #wednesday imagine #raven #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams

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rennalaqotfm · 4 months ago

Text

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART IV)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Sexual content (but MDNI 18+ just to be safe), dry humping (-ish?), violence, alcohol consumption, toxic dynamics, swearing, themes of prejudice and misogynism, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said, (not proofread).

WC: 5.6k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

As the winds guided Ser Tyland's ship to the Free Cities, the excitement regarding the wedding of the future Princess of Dorne and the Crown Prince buzzed in the air. No ravens had to be sent, for the whispers began within the palace walls, spread through the bustling streets of Sunspear, and were carried by the desert winds across the dunes, reaching the furthest Dornish houses.

Princess Y/n sat before her mirror, watching her handmaiden, Melynda, fasten the back of her dress. A sweet girl of one-and-twenty, Melynda had been brought from Pentos on a cramped boat, a former slave traded by her master for coin. Ever since she had served the Princess with quiet devotion, her nimble fingers always making a masterpiece out of her.

Despite being draped in the finest fabrics of deep sapphire, adorned with intricate golden swirls and beads of amber, Y/n stared blankly at her reflection. The celebrations leading to the wedding were set to last a fortnight, a long stretch filled with feasts, ceremonies, and endless politicking. In mere hours, she would be facing the guests, forced to smile and charm as she and the Velaryon boy persuaded them to align with Rhaenyra's cause. She didn't even know where to begin looking for the strength and willpower she had to gather to convince those lords to join a war she herself didn't fully believe in.

“Is it too tight, Princess?” Melynda asked meekly, noting how Y/n had remained quiet the whole time she had been preparing her. "Princess?"

Suddenly, Y/n's bottom lip began to quiver as she felt a knot forming in her throat.

“Gods be damned…” she muttered, feeling her tears pooling in her eyes. “How did it all come to this?”

“If it's too tight, mayhaps I could—”

“Of course, it’s bloody tight! It’s damn near crushing my guts!” the Princess burst out, causing her handmaiden to stumble backward, her hands trembling. “I apologise, Melynda,” she sniffed, feeling the guilt pool in her chest. It wasn’t the first time she had taken her anger and frustration out on the younger girl. Of all the people in the palace, she was the least deserving of such crude treatment. “It’s just—”

“I understand, Princess,” Melynda smiled sadly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Y/n held her hand softly, holding back her cries. “To be betrothed to someone who you don't truly love must be a punishment for the soul.”

“I’ve been trying to avoid this all these years. Gods forbid a woman who wants to live a life free from all this nonsense," she muttered bitterly.

“You are to be the Princess of Dorne. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“But not with a Targaryen… someone who sees us as nothing more than goatfuckers.”

“Once you get to acquainted with one another, I’m certain he’ll see past the veil of prejudice that blinds the rest of Westeros.”

“Oh, we’re well past the point of acquaintances, and I’m certain we’ve both made it clear that we’d rather kill each other than push forward with this betrothal.”

“And yet, you've hardly spent a moment alone together, away from prying eyes. Forgive me if I'm wrong, my Princess, but this hostility you feel towards one another... it feels more like the weight of your houses than your own. He’s not truly wronged you, nor have you wronged him... well, apart from the few wounds you’ve exchanged.”

“I wish it were as simple as you say, but the hatred between our houses runs deeper than that trial. We’re talking about years of bloodshed, of lives torn apart by their desire to conquer what was never theirs. How can we ever forget that? If anything, those Targaryens are only reaping what they've sown.”

“I understand, Princess, but is it truly fair to place the sins of the forefathers upon their children? Yes, the Targaryens once sought to conquer Dorne, but they failed. And since then, they’ve left us to rule our lands. Why should Prince Jacaerys suffer for the wrongdoings of his ancestors when he himself hasn't harmed you?”

“You speak the truth, Melynda. But do you truly think the rest of the Dorne will see it that way?” She stared at her handmaiden's reflection. “The pain the Targaryens have caused... it’s not just written in our histories, it’s engraved into the souls of our people.”

“I’m not saying that your betrothal to Prince Jacaerys will reconcile your houses overnight, Princess. In fact, it may take generations to heal these wounds. However, if Queen Rhaenyra proves to be the rightful and just ruler she claims to be, and honours your demands... and you and Prince Jacaerys unite the Seven Kingdoms as promised, then mayhaps it could be the beginning of something.”

Suddenly, both women were startled by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Y/n cleared her throat.

“My Princess,” Ser Domeric said from the other side. “The guests have begun to arrive, and your presence is expected shortly.”

Princess Y/n quickly composed herself, ensuring that any trace of sorrow had vanished from her face, and replaced her semblance with a mask of indifference.

The late afternoon breeze crept through the palace windows, stirring the heavy air in the Hall but doing little to lift the mood. Spirits were low and the lingering music was drowned out by the quiet murmurs of the guests. Lords and ladies from House Yronwood to House Qorgyle had traversed across the arid deserts to Sunspear, not out of enthusiasm, but out of duty, their gazes shifting warily as they gathered to pay tribute to the Princess. Even Y/n herself, appeared as though she wished to be anywhere else.

At the high table, the Martells sat alongside the Targaryens, not able to look one another eye to eye. They faced the great houses, whose semblance didn’t hide their disdain for the dragonriders. They showed no efforts for forced pleasantries, bracing themselves for the next chapter of conflict rather than celebrating a wedding that would unite the Seven Kingdoms.

Before anything, Prince Qoren stood up, ready to speak before his people.

“It is truly an honour to welcome you all this evening, and I thank each and every one of you for making the long journey to Sunspear. Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate the betrothal of my beloved daughter, Princess Y/n Martell, to the Crown Prince Jacaerys Velaryon... but also, the union between House Martell and House Targaryen,” he spoke, the enthusiasm fading in his voice.

The crowd fell into an immediate hush, the lords and ladies exchanging uncertain glances, some full of resentment, and some full of disgust. Y/n felt each pressing gaze suffocating her and tried to hide her discomfort behind the rim of her cup, already expecting those pessimistic reactions. After all, who in their right mind would willingly wed a Targaryen?

“Out of all of the suitors that have lost their lives willing to serve you and our realm, you chose to spare the one whose ancestors sought to conquer our lands?” Lady Liara from House Briar’s voice trembled, barely able to hold back her anger. “Could you not have shown mercy to my sweet boy Eldritch instead?”

The Princess had always been taught to hold back in such moments, especially in front of such a large audience, but before she could stop herself, the words were already spilling out of her mouth.

“My Lady,” Y/n began, trying to push down the feeling of irritation rising up her chest. “Remind me… who sent your son, alone, to seek my hand? As far as I know, someone that young shouldn’t be burdened with ‘providing me a strong heir’ or ‘making Dorne more prosperous than it already is.’ Those aren’t words a boy of three-and-ten should be speaking.”

Lady Liara sank back to her seat with a scowl. The Princess’ gaze swept across the Hall, their faces etched with grief and bitterness, never forgetting the lives lost in pursuit of her hand.

Whilst the guests sat in silence, waiting for either Prince Qoren or Princess Y/n to justify such a decision, Rhaenyra seized the moment to capture the crowd’s attention. She cleared her throat and rose slowly, her lilac eyes lingering on each guest, meeting the same eyes that had carried pent-up hatred for generations.

“By coming here, we are not denying the sins of House Targaryen,” she paused, allowing her words to settle, her gaze never leaving the crowd. “I understand that to many of you, we are still the enemy. I am aware of the blood that was spilled and the pain that has lingered for generations. But the true enemies now are the Greens, who have usurped the Throne and seek to bring all of Westeros to its knees. And I know Dorne will not bend without a fight. Join us, and we will stand together. We can prevent the war that the Greens will bring to your lands.”

Despite Rhaenyra's words, the guests still mumbled with one another and her plea fell on indifferent ears. She clasped her hands together, holding her composure.

“So, the Greens are the enemies now, eh?" A voice echoing across the hall finally broke through the whispers. “To them, you are the usurper. And as far as we are concerned, they have yet to come to our lands to pester us with this petty war of yours.”

“Do not mistake their silence for mercy, my Lord. When they come, they will not ask. They will take. And by then, it may be too late to decide where your loyalties lie,” Daemon retorted.

“They have left us with no other choice,” Lord Lysander Dayne scowled. “Is this why you brought these beasts? So they can burn us if we refuse to join?”

Upon the mere mention of the dragons, the fear of the crowd became palpable. Prince Qoren’s face was flushed with anger, seeing that the celebration had somehow turned into a council meeting.

“Enough of this nonsense!” Prince Qoren bellowed, rising to his feet and jabbing his fist to the table. "We are here to celebrate the upcoming wedding of my daughter, not to squabble over this bloody war! If I hear more of it tonight, I’ll throw you in a pit of scorpions myself," his voice cut through the crowd, making the lords shrink back into their seats as he glared at Rhaenyra.

The music, which had momentarily ceased, began to play again. Princess Y/n exhaled deeply, gripping her cup as she swirled the crimson liquid. If she was going to endure the remainder of this night and persuade those thick-skulled lords to support Rhaenyra, she would need wine. A lot of it. She downed the first cup, the sweet taste lingering on her palate as her gaze shifted across the room, spotting the lords she had to sway.

Lord Lysander of House Dayne sat with his lady wife, his stern face etched with displeasure. He had made it clear where he stood, opposing any involvement in the war. Yet, he was infamously known for his ambition; he was the sort of man who would bend the knee for the right price, advancing his own house in exchange for his formidable army. Then there was Lord Thaddeus of House Yronwood, head of the second-most powerful house in Dorne, capable of providing enough supplies to sustain the armies at sea; a practical man, loyal to tradition, but always open to negotiation. On the other side of the Hall, she spotted Lord Ander of House Jordayne, who owned the largest fleet in Dorne.

Ser Domeric, being part of House Uller and their loyal informant, would provide whatever support was asked. And lastly, House Santagar, though not enthusiastic, had always been fiercely loyal to the Martells and would stand by their house regardless.

Despite the collective disappointment lingering in the air, as the feast came to an end, the guests stood up to salvage what remained of the evening. Jacaerys’ eyes followed Y/n as she rose from her seat, weaving through the multitude and making her way to Lord Lysander. The man bowed his head and extended his hand, offering the Princess a dance which she accepted with a smile that seemed far too charming than she would normally allow herself to be. Jacaerys couldn’t tear his gaze from Y/n, watching how she leaned towards Lord Lysander, her lips closely brushing his ear, as he nodded eagerly so as not to disappoint her.

“A celebration of our upcoming betrothal?” Jacaerys scoffed, already feeling his blood boil at the sight of the Princess with another man. Had they been at the Red Keep, the whispers would have already circled around, rumours of the Princess enjoying the company of other men, even while bound by a betrothal to him, that would call into question not only her honour but the legitimacy of their future children. He could already hear the council’s scandalous whispers behind closed doors–whispers that had been haunting him all his life.

“She’s quite gifted, isn’t she, my dear sister?” Elyas remarked, turning to Jacaerys. “She has a way of making men dance in the palm of her hand.”

“Only if one is foolish enough to fall for whatever games she is playing,” Jacaerys muttered.

Jacaerys and Elyas watched how Lord Lysander placed a kiss on top of her hand. With one final whisper, she slipped away from his arms and disappeared into the crowd, only to be seen again; that time with Lord Ander, who offered the Princess his hand without hesitation.

“There are a couple of things you should know about her,” Elyas said with a sneer, glancing at the Princess. “One of them is… you’ll never be her only one.”

“You need not tell me what I can already see. It seems your sister is not familiar with the notion of faithfulness.”

“Faithfulness? As far as I’m aware, neither of you are bound by vows just yet,” Elyas grinned, noting how Jacaerys clearly wasn’t enjoying the conversation. "But listen, this celebration isn’t meant for you to sulk in a corner, watching my sister dance with every lord in Dorne. It's for indulging. There’s a place not too far from the palace, where we know how to truly celebrate. Who knows? You might not even survive this war you’re throwing yourself into. You may as well enjoy the finest pleasures our land has to offer before it’s too late," Jacaerys’s knuckles whitened around his cup, his repulsion palpable, but Elyas only leaned in closer.

As much as Jacaerys despised watching Princess Y/n flit from lord to lord, he wasn’t about to lower himself to her games. What was she trying to prove? Was she testing him, daring him to show any signs of jealousy or anger? Or mayhaps she was simply making it clear, once again, how much she misliked him?

Jacaerys refused to give Elyas the satisfaction of a response and merely shook his head. Elyas smirked, amused by Jacaerys' restraint, and stood up, ensuring he ruined the evening even more before leaving.

“Oh, and just so you know… whatever illusions you have about loyalty and honour, you'd best cast them aside. If you think my sister will suddenly change her ways after this betrothal of yours, then you’re completely wrong. I’m telling you now, she won’t. She’s as Dornish as they come… untamable and always chasing trouble. The more you tighten the leash, the more she’ll struggle to break free. And she’ll keep playing her games, whether you like them or not... so you better learn how to play them if you don't wish to end up as another one of her playthings,” Elyas said, slapping Jacaerys’ shoulder playfully before walking away.

Jacaerys hadn’t even realised how tightly he was clenching his jaw until the sound of Elyas and his sworn protector’s fading footsteps pulled him back to reality. He let out a breath, trying to shake off the bitterness away, and downed a gulp of wine.

But what he hadn’t noticed was a pair of dark wide eyes watching him from the other end of the table. It was Farien, whose gaze had been flickering between him and Elyas the whole time. When Jacaerys caught the boy's gaze, his expression softened. He set down his cup, watching how the little boy stood up and made his way over to him.

“If you marry my sister, does that mean you’ll become my brother?” Farien asked.

“I suppose,” he forced a smile, though he wasn’t sure if the little boy was particularly glad about that.

Farien climbed on to the empty seat beside Jacaerys, glancing around the nearly deserted table and making sure none of his family members were nearby. All of the Martells were tending their own business, leaving the Targaryens seated in silence. The boy leaned in close, cupping his small hands around Jacaerys’s ear, scared that someone might hear what he had to say.

“So, does that mean I get to ride your dragon?” He whispered.

Jacaerys looked at him, his eyes widening in surprise.

“If your father allows you, then I suppose you could… but are you not afraid?” He asked.

“I’m really, really scared. But I wonder what it must feel like to see the world from up above. The closest I’ve ever gotten to flying is in my dreams, you know? It feels like I’m one of Father’s falcons, soaring high in the skies. Father says I have the gift to turn into one of them at night and watch over the desert,” he glanced up, his eyes gleaming in wonder.

Jacaerys looked at the boy and allowed himself to smile, as Farien somehow reminded him of his younger brother, Joffrey, whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

“Anyway,” Farien continued, “I think we could be brothers, you and I. We even look alike, see?” He pointed at Jacaerys’ curls. “It would be nice to have another brother... because, well, Elyas... he’s nice, sometimes. But not always.”

Jacaerys held back a scoff, figuring as much.

“And what about your sister?”

“We like sneaking sweets from the kitchens and feeding them to the horses,” Farien’s eyes suddenly lit up. “And she loves fighting, too. But not the angry, shouting kind, no. She says that sometimes, fighting feels like dancing, and that’s why she enjoys it. She’s really good at it. And I think you are too. But my sister is better.”

Just as he was about to ask Farien what other things his sister enjoyed, one of the little boy’s servants approached them.

“My Prince, your father has sent me to take you back to your chambers to rest,” she smiled at the little boy, who had no choice but to accept dejectedly.

As the servant took him in her arms, Farien waved at Jacaerys with a small smile. He nodded at the little boy, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

“At least the little one is not as irritating as the rest of his family,” Rhaenyra said as her gaze softened, noticing how the little boy never tore his eyes from them as he got further and further.

“Give him a couple of years. He will turn out exactly like his older brother,” Daemon muttered.

Then, Jacaerys' gaze trailed back to the Princess once again, who was still locked in a dance with Lord Ander. The exchange of whispers seemed to grow more intense, as his lips lingered on the shell of her ear, making her nod as her smile never left her lips.

“Jacaerys,” Daemon’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts. “Do you not have a duty to fulfil?”

“I have been fulfilling them since the moment we arrived,” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. As Jacaerys had been doing everything he could to uphold his duties, Daemon merely sat back, watching the spectacle he had set in motion unravel before him.

“You have, but sitting and watching the Princess be courted by every lord in Dorne is not one of them. Listen to me, these men are doing everything in their power to pull her away from our alliance since they can see she does not favour you,” he paused leaning in closer. “You are no stranger to this. If you two are to rule the Seven Kingdoms, she needs to be seen by your side.”

Jacaerys rose from his seat as he exhaled, growing frustrated by the second. It was all in the name of duty, after all. He headed towards the Princess with steady steps, disappearing into the crowd and dodging every drunken lord and lady that stood in his way. Lord Ander, who seemed to have more intentions than just dancing with the Princess, held her close, too close, his hands lingering on her waist.

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cleared his throat, barely containing himself. Lord Ander snapped his head towards his direction. “I would hate to interrupt your conversation, but the hour is quite late, and Princess Y/n needs to rest.”

“Is that so?” He pulled Y/n even closer to him, making Jacaerys’ blood boil. “How come the Princess seems to be enjoying herself?”

Jacaerys’ eyes flicked to the cup in her hand, the liquid threatening to spill from the rim. He wasn’t a stranger to that dazed look and that loose smirk playing on her lips.

“The Princess seems to have indulged in one too many cups. You may continue whatever… conversation you were having on the morrow, my Lord,” Jacaerys forced his words through his teeth.

“Is that an order from the Crown Prince? Or from a boy who is still learning how to hold a woman’s interest?” Lord Ander raised a brow, sliding his hand even lower on her waist.

The Princess’ gaze flicked between the two men, unaware of the escalating tension. She took another sip from her cup, her eyes landing on Jacaerys, finally acknowledging how dashing he looked in a Dornish ensemble of deep blues and golds.

“Gods, spare me,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You two sound like you’re ready to start another war.”

“If it means winning your favour, Princess,” Lord Ander said with a grin.

“Mayhaps that's a battle for another day. Besides, the Prince is right, the hour is quite late,” she said softly, growing tired at the show of bravado between the two men. She moved away from Lord Ander and took a step towards Jacaerys.

Jacaerys, whose heart was pounding with both anger and relief, offered her his arm. Y/n would’ve hesitated at first, but under the effects of wine, any qualms were long gone. She noted how he tensed his arm uncomfortably, unaware that she was putting pressure on the wound she had given him not too long ago.

Casymir leaned against one of the pillars with a hint of amusement on his face, watching the whole scene unfold before his eyes. Once Jacaerys and Y/n were away from the crowd, he finally pushed himself off the pillar, approaching Jacaerys, who was struggling to keep her in place.

“Allow me, my Prince. The Princess is in good hands with me,” he said, extending his arm.

Jacaerys glared at Casymir as he adjusted her weight in his arm, wondering what he was smiling for.

“You are the Princess’ sworn protector, are you not?” He raised his brow.

“Yes, my Prince,” he smiled proudly.

“Yet all you did was stand and watch how the Princess wandered into the clutches of men with less than noble intentions,” Jacaerys tried to keep his composure, though his anger simmered beneath the surface.

“Do you question my service to the Princess, my Prince?” He chuckled, brushing the Prince’s concerns aside. “The Princess was in no immediate danger. And as far as I’m aware, a dance with a lord hardly constitutes a threat.”

“If you think a man whose ulterior motives are clearly written in his face not to be dangerous, then mayhaps we have very different understandings of the word danger,” Jacaerys said.

“You greatly misunderstand the Princess. Lord Ander was eager, but he knew better than to cross the line. And besides, she would’ve ended his attempts long before you stepped in. As you might have already… experienced, the Princess knows how to handle herself and hardly needs to be coddled,” his blue eyes trailed at the way their arms were intertwined. “Though, it seems she doesn’t mind letting you try.”

“So, what are you here for, then? Just for decoration?”

“Is picking fights with other men a favourite pastime of yours, my Prince?” The Princess laughed, poking fun at Jacaerys as she unconsciously tightened her grip around his injured arm. “You do seem to have a talent for making enemies wherever you go.”

Jacaerys hesitated, unsure if replying to the Princess was even worth the efforts given her current state, so he merely scoffed, shaking his head in defeat. However, one thing he couldn’t ignore was the feeling of having her so close as she mindlessly ran her hand up and down the length of his arm. He tried to calm his heart, but he couldn’t keep his composure with each stroke of her fingers that made him lean into her touch ever so slightly.

Once they reached the Princess’ chambers, Casymir leaned on the door, his arms crossed with an infuriatingly calm expression on his face.

“If you wish to be escorted back to your chambers, my Prince, I can call for a servant,” Casymir offered, implying that Jacaerys had overstayed his welcome.

“No. I wish to stay. The Princess and I have a few words to exchange,” he said.

“I’ll be fine, Cas,” the Princess slurred, assuring her sworn protector with a slow nod.

“As you wish, my Princess. I'll be just outside, should you require any assistance.”

Jacaerys stood by the door, unsure of what to do now that he was inside the Princess’ chambers. It wasn’t improper of him, as her soon-to-be husband, to be seen there, so he found himself leaning against the wall, trying to regain the composure that he had repeatedly lost throughout the night. His eyes trailed around the intricately carved golden statues that adorned the corners and the colourful tapestries that swayed slightly, catching the faint breeze that slipped through the windows and bringing with it the distant murmurs of the ongoing celebration.

Only when he heard a soft clink and the steady stream of wine being poured into a cup, he snapped out of his thoughts. Before he could even think, he turned to Y/n, walking towards her and snatching the cup and jug from her hands, causing her mouth to hang open in disbelief and indignation.

“You will not drink any more tonight,” he ordered, pouring the liquid out of the window and slamming the cup aside.

“Well, isn’t this absolutely perfect?” She spat, throwing her arms in the air in defeat. “Not only will you take away my freedom, but now you wish to take away one of the few things that bring me joy?”

“You must live a very miserable life, Princess, if wine and men are the few things in life that bring you joy,” Jacaerys burst out, no longer able to contain the pent-up anger that had been brewing all night.

“Oh, believe me, I’ll have a miserable life once I marry you.”

“And what makes you think I want to marry you? That behaviour of yours… is unacceptable,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I do not wish to marry someone who is a slave to their desires.”

“A slave to my desires? Is that what you think of me?” Y/n shouted, unable to control the fury taking over her voice.

“What else am I supposed to think when you go from lord to lord like a marionette whose strings had been cut?” He paused, taking in her dishevelled appearance. “I was not aware how these Dornishmen could name someone so ruthless and so debauched as their Princess.”

“And I didn’t know you Targaryens go around crowning bastards just to keep your house on the Throne,” she spat, making sure to rest her gaze on his dark eyes and on his brown locks long enough.

“You whore–!”

Before Jacaerys could finish his sentence, Y/n's palm collided with his cheek in a stinging slap, his head snapping to the side. His eyes widened, more in shock than pain, as his hand instinctively rose to the reddening mark on his face.

“A whore? A savage? A goatfucker?” Y/n's voice trembled with fury. “Is that all you see me as?” She shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backward until his back hit the wall. Her finger jabbed into his chest with every word. “You,” she spat, “should be thanking me for getting my hands dirty, persuading those lords to join your petty war!”

Jacaerys was stunned into silence momentarily, feeling every ounce of her rage bleeding through her words.

“And who told you to do that on your own?” Jacaerys shot back. “You could have asked me, we could have gone together and spoken to them like it is expected of us!”

“You overestimate yourself,” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do you even know what those lords think of you? Of your family? If it weren’t for our betrothal, they would have driven a spear through your chests without a second thought. Because to them, you Targaryens are nothing but bloodthirsty murderers who’ve come to take our lands all over again.”

“Enough!” Jacaerys grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her, slamming her against the wall. “You think I do not know that? You think I do not feel it every time I step into a room? The way they look at me? At my family? You think I enjoy being the enemy?” He seethed, feeling his throat grow raw with each word. “Gods, you are infuriating,” he grunted, realising how close their faces were to one another.

The Princess’ lips curled into a smirk, a flicker of satisfaction lingering in her eyes. She had struck a nerve, realising how Jacaerys was always quick to react to whatever blasphemous speech she had to say about his family, and once again, she had managed to unleash the dormant wrath that blinded his actions.

As the Princess found herself cornered between his arms and the wall, she crouched low, slipping beneath his arms in a fluid motion and spinning around to pin Jacaerys against the wall, pressing her chest to his back. Jacaerys reacted instinctively, kicking off the wall to shove her back. The sudden force sent her stumbling as she crashed on the ground, and he followed, landing on top of her in a tangle of limbs.

Just as he was about to stand up, Y/n yanked him back down and rolled on top of him, keeping him in place by locking her thighs around his waist and pinning his arms on the floor with one swift movement. Truth be told, Jacaerys could have easily pushed her away as her usual strength was halved by the wine; yet he remained still, feeling the warmth of Y/n’s body pressed into his, and how their faces were inches apart yet again, her breath hot on his skin.

Once again, he found himself under her mercy.

She stared down at him with half-lidded eyes and lips slightly open as she breathed lightly, taking in the sight of Jacaerys’ flushed face and his gaze clouded by desire. Jacaerys looked up at her and gulped, feeling his erection stirring uncomfortably beneath his breeches.

His eyes locked onto her plump lips and trailed towards to the hollow of her neck, down to her chest. He stared hungrily as she leaned towards him, his fingertips itching to explore the skin hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. As she got closer and closer to his face, Jacaerys’ breath hitched, and without realising it, his lips parted slightly as his eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. His pulse quickened, waiting for the warmth of her lips pressing against his.

But instead of the kiss he craved, he felt the hot caress of her breath graze the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Her voice, low and smooth, held him captive with each honeyed word.

“If you want to win this little war of yours, you better start by respecting me,” she whispered as she let go of one of his wrists and began tracing delicate patterns with her finger. “Just because I’ve chosen you as my betrothed doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind,” she bucked her hips against his hardened cock, causing Jacaerys to groan at the sudden spark of pleasure coursing in his veins.

In that very moment, Y/n had uncovered yet another emotion—the primal desire that, despite her infuriating attitude, she had managed to set ablaze. If Jacaerys had to ask himself how it happened, he wouldn’t know where to begin answering. Had it all started when they first met, when she held little regard for him? Was it in the arena, when she brazenly humiliated him in front of everyone? Or was it the fact that they always seemed to find themselves pointing a blade at each other’s throats? Behind all that anger and hatred, and the prejudice that blinded him from seeing the Princess as she truly was, lay a spark of curiosity. Something he knew that once he began to explore, that spark would turn into wildfire.

With each passing second, he fought against the temptation to place his hands on the curve of her hips and make her grind herself against his cock.

“Remember, my Prince,” she purred in his ear, bucking her hips once again. “The wedding has not taken place yet, and anything could happen.”

A/N: For some reason, i keep beating my wordcount record. istg my fanfic wc is way bigger than all of my uni papers combined, and bare in mind i was a humanities student lmfaooo.

anyway, i feel like this chapter was a mess. jace's patience continuously getting tested by everyone, and our reader making things even harder for him. i actually feel sorry for those two but the way they are handling things is not very demure, mindful or cutesy. we got the exact opposite.

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a (continued in comments)

#dragonspear #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon smut #jace x you #jace x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house martell #oc x reader #oc x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x you smut

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