#could be wrong but we shall see maybe one day

[bamsara]

If you're OK sharing, what are your theories on what Eclipse is? I've seen two camps mainly:

Eclipse was the original who split into sun and moon due to the virus, due to the reboot sun and moon are technically no more

Sun and Moon were always separate, Eclipse is a fusion of both (and that the two can still be present seperately)

The second one.

It makes no sense for the virus to have created Sun and Moon separately when the pizzaplex has merch, posters, schedules and routines based around the two personas of the Daycare Attendant, Day and Night, Play and Naptime. Their physical appearance/transformation also. Sun and Moon were planned from day one I think. (Also see: security breach's game guide book)

Plenty of Sundrop and Moondrop merch and posters and what, with specific functions listed for them both, none for Eclipse. I don't think Eclipse was a planned feature in the DCA by Fazco engineers.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[navstuffs]

About Tradition and Responsibility

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x WifeF!Reader

Summary: You, a non-Jujutsu sorcerer, married the Gojo Satoru. After having your first child, the higher-ups demand to meet you and your first born son.

Warning tags: protective!Satoru, tiny angst if you squint, non-jujutsu sorcerer reader, no y/n usage

Author's Notes: hiii, i wrote this based on my own post, having one of my favorite tropes (protectiveness)! this might have a second part i haven't wrote yet, we shall see. enjoy your reading!

You keep your head down, trying to focus on the peaceful expression of the baby in your arms, your first newborn son, Kotaro. He is perfect, from his white curls to his tiny toes. You can't help but give him a small smile, your hands gripping his little body, promising silently to always protect him from any harm in the world. You feel so much love for your son that it is difficult to understand anyone who could find his existence wrong due to one ridiculous minuscule detail: when Kotaro opens his eyes, they are your eye color. Not your husband's vivid, ethereal blue eyes. 

Because of that, Kotaro Gojo is considered a waste of time—almost a mistake, but no one would dare say that in front of you or his father.

The door in front of you opens, and an older lady announces that the elders are ready to see you. You get up from the bench, bringing Kotaro closer to your chest. 

It is finally time to face your curses.

-x-

When Gojo Satoru decided to marry a non-jujutsu user, the higher-ups thought it was a joke. A good one especially coming from Gojo, who was known to do anything to piss off the hierarchy of the Jujutsu world, as if Satoru's whole existence wasn't on top of all that, as if any of those ancient and outdated men had anything to complain about the woman he chose as his wife.

However, when Gojo decided to proceed with this marriage, most were still shocked. They never thought Gojo would marry anyone, so soon, interest spiked in the mysterious woman he decided to marry. 

You wish you could tell your first meeting with the strongest sorcerer had been something glorious, but no. It was in your small candy shop, the one passed down to you by your parents from their parents. On a rainy day, that strange tall man with white bandages and white hair entered, sniffing the air like a hound dog. Gojo insisted on buying all the sweets you had on display, and instead of leaving, heard you explain how you made each of them, fascinated. 

After that day, Satoru started appearing daily, buying all the sweets on display by the end of the day. Gojo always mentioned he first fell in love with your cooking, but you didn't know when exactly you fell in love with him. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone understand those sudden chills around your body as if something had been watching you until Satoru entered the shop. He never found that weird at all. 

At first, Gojo kept you away as best as he could. You could sense curses with a chill in your body but couldn't see them (a blessing, for what Gojo described sometimes). And since you met your now-future-husband, as powerful as you could remotely grasp he was, Gojo was also the silliest and most annoying man you ever met. If you got upset with something he did for any reason, he would not leave you alone until you reassured him you weren't mad anymore. On top of that, Satoru was easily manipulated with sweets. Again, a big grown baby.

He never shared the consequences of what it meant to marry him. The letters started coming two months after the marriage, with your name on them, presenting themselves as chairpeople of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and they were eager to meet you whenever you could. Gojo always told you to ignore those letters, throw them in the trash, and burn them if you wanted. 

Then Kotaro was born. It had been a normal pregnancy, with the usual sickness in the morning and mood swings, but at least your baby was born healthy. You couldn't be happier, and Gojo couldn't be happier. The baby not having the same blue eyes didn't concern your husband, reassuring you that everything was fine.

Until it wasn't: the letter that made you come into this meeting with the elders without your husband's knowledge had a clear underlying threat in those polite words: You were to bring Kotaro for them to look at, or they would be forced to bring you in. Gojo had shielded you from this for far too long.

As soon as you enter the oval room, you notice the covers: you can't see any faces, but you are sure all stares are on you and your baby. Kotaro rubs his face against your chest, and you bring him closer, shielding him from their judgmental glances.

"Come forward." A masculine voice demands.

You walk in the middle of the room and stop. No one speaks.

"You wanted to see me?" You ask, surprised your voice isn't trembling. You wonder if they can hear your heart exploding in your chest. 

"Yes. We never had the chance to meet with the wife of Gojo Satoru; he has kept you hidden for a long time."

"I am sure he had his reasons." 

"Not that it matters who Gojo Satoru decided to marry, but his decisions impact the Jujutsu World, wanting or not." An older voice speaks, clearly angry with your disobedience. 

"And who would stop him from making those decisions?" You question, trying to sound courteous but instead sounding resentful. Satoru has told you about these higher-ups: focused on their old ways, not allowing anything that disturbs their way. Only their way is correct. Tradition. Anything that breaks from the fine formal line should be eliminated. "No one can stop Gojo Satoru from doing what he wants. As his wife, I should be the first one to know."

Silence. You breathe deeply, part of you still fearful of what is about to come. They have yet to speak about Kotaro, so you dread the inevitable moment. Now, something deep inside of you screams you should have told Satoru. What if you walked straight into a trap?

"Your child." A third voice speaks, and the whole atmosphere of the room seems to change when he mentions your son. You grip Kotaro's small body again, ready for what will come. "He does not possess the same eyes as his father, as we can see."

"So? It is not like every single member of the clan was born with six eyes." You ask defiantly.

"Of course not," The man snickers. "But this is Gojo Satoru's son. Haven't you thought about the consequences of having a child with a man like that?"

"Satoru keeps us safe! And if he isn't here, I keep my child safe. Never underestimate the love a mother has for her child."

"There is no doubt in a mother's love for her child. There is also no doubt that some might carry a heavy hatred for Gojo Satoru. If, for some reason, you were caught vulnerable…"

"What? What are you talking about?" Your voice shakes a little, but you keep yourself steady. For Kotaro.

"Many curses and even sorcerers have hidden and disappeared because of Gojo. Many fear him. When your husband was born, he altered the balance of our world. If there is an even remote possibility Gojo can't defend himself or, even worse, if you get pregnant again and this baby comes with six eyes…we can't even imagine how bad it would be the repercussions." The tone of false concern disgusts you. Sensing your uneasiness, Kotaro starts whining, and you start rocking him. 

You are not stupid. Those men didn't care about you or your baby's safety. They wanted six eyes that they could control, nothing else, nothing more. You haven't given any proof that you are worthy of being married to Satoru.

You don't get to answer because the door behind you opens, and all eyes are directed to the man behind you. You don't even have to turn around, your sixth sense telling you: Satoru. And he is pissed. He takes a moment to analyze the room in front of him, seeing you in the middle with your son in his arms, crying. His son crying. Gojo walks in, no blindfold on, without asking for permission (not that anyone was waiting for one), and ignores everyone as he stops right before you.

His blue eyes scan you and Kotaro from the top of your head to the feet, concerned. 

"Are you okay? Is Kotaro okay?" Satoru asks in a gentle tone, ignoring anyone around. You nod, starting to form an apology, but he shakes his head, calming you. "There's nothing to apologize for. You did well. You always do well. Stand beside me, okay?"  

You nod as Satoru forms a shield between you and the higher-ups. Surprisingly, Kotaro has stopped whining, feeling his dad is close by. No one speaks, and everyone seems to be holding down their breaths.

"So," Satoru's tone is calm, "who cares to explain how my wife and son ended up here?"

No answer comes, and you can sense the fear over the room, which differs from your husband's posture. Those who don't know him might believe in Satoru's calm posture, but you and probably the rest of the elders knew this was only a façade. In Satoru's veins, there is only anger. The only reason any of those higher-ups are still alive is because of your and Kotaro's presence. Not because Satoru would hurt you or his son if he had to kill them, but because he didn't want to shock you or accidentally make you fear him. You had never seen him kill before.

You don't know yet what lengths he would go to protect you and his child.

"We were just worried about her well-being, that's all." Some brave higher-up answers and Gojo snickers.

"Oh? More worried than her husband then?"

"You know, we had to meet her eventually. You kept her away from our world, your world, for far too long."

"And she was fine until you brought her into this. My wife and my son are none of your concerns."

"Not if she births a child with six eyes. Then it is our concern." Your body tenses behind Gojo, immediately causing him to react back, his murderous energy filling the room. If you felt it, those elders felt it as well, silencing them.

Kotaro starts crying again, sensing the threatening energy in the room. You had never felt such a destructive sensation coming from your husband before, but you managed to grab Satoru's arm.

"'Toru? Kotaro is scared." And you are scared.

The energy instantly leaves, and Satoru turns around, worried. You tremble with fear, and Kotaro bawls, tears dropping from his eyes. He instantly places his black blindfold on his eyes before taking Kotaro from your arms and gently rocking him. 

"Can we leave, please?" You ask, and Satoru nods, grabbing your hand with his free one. Before turning around to leave, he announces in a frightening tone to the entire room, "If I ever hear any of you trying to make any sort of contact with my wife or son, I won't be so merciful."

With that, Gojo Satoru pulls you away from that horrible place you promised to never see again.

-x-

Satoru dismisses the driver who drove you there. Instead, he takes you to his car, finding Kiyotaka Ijichi with a nervous smile when he sees you. You manage to smile back, and Ijichi seems relieved that you and Kotaro are okay. The ride home is silent, and Satoru never lets go of your hand. Kotaro is in the other one, sleeping safely in his arms. You can't bear to look at your husband, too afraid of what you are about to see: disappointment? Anger? He would be right to feel like that. You endangered not only yourself but Kotaro in this whole situation.

After Ijichi leaves you at home, you gently take a sleepy Kotaro away from your husband's arms. Satoru had this enchantment with your son, making him feel calm and safe. Like mother like son, you guess. You place Kotaro gently on his mat, watching as he gets comfortable. How careless of you to put your son in such a dangerous situation.

"Do you want to talk about this?" Satoru whispers, and you shake your head.

"I am sorry." To Kotaro. To Satoru. To yourself. "I thought I could—"

Satoru slowly closes the proximity between you two. He waits, watching the tears flowing down your eyes, sitting at your side, and when you hide your face on his shoulders, his arms are around you, bringing you to his lap.

"You had no idea."

"I endangered our son! Do you know how serious that is?"

"You would never let them do anything to him."

"How would I even stop them, Satoru?"

"I don't know, but I know you. You would find a way." Satoru simply shrugs, which sounds to him like the most obvious answer, and you don't know if you laugh or cry or his hopes on you. "Which would involve bringing me there."

"Yes, bring my most dangerous weapon: Satoru Gojo." You two chuckle low so you don't wake up Kotaro.

"Nothing will ever happen to you or Kotaro. I won't allow it. Be sure of it."

"They said you have enemies…"

"Who wouldn't dare to lay a finger on one stray of Kotaro's hair. Or yours. Come on, you don't have some faith in me?"

Remembering the amount of energy you felt earlier, you feel a chill pass your body. "I do, 'Toru. I was crazy enough to marry you."

"And would you lose the chance to be the luckiest woman alive?"

"With the most pretentious husband ever." You roll your eyes, feeling happy inside. The earlier one may have scared you. But you know this Satoru, back to his usual pretentious self. 

You get more comfortable in Satoru's lap, your eyes never entirely leaving Kotaro. He looks so peaceful with his eyes closed like that; he is Satoru 100%, except for his eyes. What blame did he have? You vowed to protect and love him as soon as he came out of you, no matter what came after him. And by the looks on Satoru's face, he also does.

Slowly, you can feel your eyes getting heavy as you become more comfortable in Satoru's arms—like a mother, like son. 

"Rest, my love. I will take care of it all. I will never leave you, I promise."

[louisferrignojr]

since the show is coming back tomorrow (!!!) and people seem to be a little bit confused about Tommy Kinard's canon character traits, as extrapolated from the source material, let's review, shall we?

Tommy put everything on the line, risked his job, not to mention entire life, by agreeing to fly Hen and Chimney and two more guys he's never even met before through a hurricane to maybe find (the wreckage of) a cruise ship that his old captain was on. He did it because Chimney called him and asked for a favour (also seen in 2x14, Broken) and because he trusts Hen's instincts (evidenced in 2x09, Hen Begins)

Tommy lied through his teeth to his co-worker when he stepped in to save Hen's unsuccessful bullshitting and made fake mouth static at the fire chief pretending the connection is bad before disconnecting the call. If there was nothing wrong with the cruise ship, he would have been fired, or at the very least suspended.

okay, what do we know so far? Tommy is loyal to his friends even if they haven't talked in years, he is dependable and will come through in a crisis.

we also know Tommy is a very skilled and competent pilot (given he's able to operate both the plane in 2x14 and helicopter in 7x03) and he flew said helicopter through a hurricane, landed it on the belly of a capsized ship, rescued the survivors, and flew everyone back to safety. and given the extremely dangerous conditions of the rogue rescue mission, I'd say he's also brave and/or a little bit reckless; when the situation calls for it, at least.

he's also super cool, an opinion shared by multiple characters (Buck, Christopher, and Chimney).

that being said, let's move on to 7x04

Tommy agreed to give Buck a tour of Harbor station, meaning he had to go to work on his day off, and then offered him flying lessons. So he's either super nice or he's interested in the cute guy (i think it's a little bit of both)

Tommy invited Eddie, a guy he barely knows, to a sold out big reunification bout, with ringside tickets that he got from the organiser, who he's apparently friends with, and flew them in a chopper! He's just a super nice dude.

Tommy offered to drive Eddie to the hospital, and talked about The Incident with him, because when he gets to Buck's loft, he says "he [Eddie] feels bad, in fact we both do" and honestly, he had no obligation to do any of that. He could have let Buck drive Eddie since he offered and wiped his hands clean of that mess. But he's a caring and considerate person, further evidenced by the fact that...

Tommy went to Buck's loft before he had to go to work, to talk to him in person and clear the air, saying he didn't want to do it on the phone or in a text. Tommy starts by apologising and stating very clearly that he never meant to come between Buck and Eddie and that neither of them meant to exclude Buck. He also easily reciprocated Buck's vulnerability. I think the loft scene alone does a great job at showing us that Tommy doesn't shy away from confrontation or a difficult conversation, is emotionally mature, values open and honest conversation, and owns up to his flaws and insecurities. (Yeah, I'm trying to be concise. There's meta upon meta about the goddamn loft scene)

He's also a little bit insane because why does hearing that the cute guy maimed his best friend make you want to kiss him. Tommy Kinard will see a red flag and pretend to be colourblind. (-> for tumblr purposes this is a joke)

anyway, moving on, Saturday rolls around...

Tommy noticed that Buck was a little tense, reassured him that no one's looking at them, and sympathised with him. He doesn't judge Buck, like, at all. I don't need to list all the ways Buck made an absolute fool of himself on their very first date. He also paid for the dinner.

Tommy cut the date short (abruptly, because this is a drama show) but before he left, he told Buck he's adorable, but not ready - and this is right after Buck forcefully shoved him back in the closet in front of their mutual friend, and especially after Tommy told him about his own difficult journey coming out of the closet.

Tommy showed up at the café, told Buck he has nothing to apologise for, and explained that he cut the date short because didn't want to pressure Buck.

Tommy asks Buck if he's absolutely sure, about Tommy being his date at his sister's wedding. Then says okay.

more character traits for Tommy Kinard: generous, non-judgmental, sympathetic, patient, and once again, a little bit insane.

night of Chimney's bachelor party/day of Maddie and Chimney's wedding:

Tommy shows up to the bachelor party even though he's on call for work, you know, as a firefighter pilot, and he could have spent this time sleeping or resting in case he gets called... and he does, to a wildfire! Before he goes he promises Buck that he'll try his damndest to make it to the wedding.

Tommy shows up as promised, after spending at least half a day fighting a wildfire? In his turnouts, covered in soot, but he shows up as promised.

I think this shows he is selfless first and foremost because he made time to show up to the (failed) bachelor party and he is honest and keeps his promises. Even if that means bringing a biohazard (himself) to a place full of vulnerable sick people (the hospital). Because, as previously established, he's a little bit insane.

these are the core Tommy episodes of season 7.

as for 7x09 and 7x10:

Tommy tenses up when confronted with his old captain Gerrard - who then subtly throws a slur at his face

Tommy is quick with the sass and will not indulge in his nosey friends' inquisitive questions

Tommy notices Buck's mood and checks in with him - he's caring and attentive

Tommy once again does not hesitate to admit to feeling jealous

Tommy doesn't really talk to his dad

Tommy likens his dad to captain Gerrard

Tommy admits that having Gerrard as his captain did not make him a better person (and okay, sidenote to talk about something that annoys me about this, because Tommy had different captains, including Bobby, while at the 118, and I think s7 canon seriously overestimated how long he worked under Gerrard, but let's say Gerrard was his first captain as a probie and influenced him to a certain extent)

some odd tidbits ~

Tommy has a sarcastic, deadpan sense of humour

Tommy is a goddamn flirt and unbelievably smooth

Tommy came out after he transferred from the 118 to the 217/Harbor Station

Tommy used to be a pilot in the army

Tommy flies for fun on his days off

Tommy plays basketball every other Thursday with Eddie and other first responders

Tommy knows muay thai

Tommy has a car lift and knows his way around an engine

Tommy likes watching half-naked pummel each other

Tommy likes karaoke trivia

Tommy likes craft beer, monster trucks, and the movie 'Love, Actually' (provided canon doesn't forget about this and/or retcons it for some reason)

[s-awturn]

Jealousy, jealousy || F1 Dilfs

cw: jealousy, slightly possessive behavior, suggestion of obscenity, teasing, bratty behavior, public display of affection, and blah blah blah

a/n: This has been running through my mind for a few days now, thinking about these men vibrating with jealousy, I couldn't let it go. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

starring: Toto Wolff, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, Mark Webber, Kimi Raikkonen.

soundtrack: baby i'm jealous — bebe rexha ft. doja cat

Baby, I'm jealous, ooh

And I know that it ain't right

But I'm jealous, jealous (haha)

TOTO WOLFF:

Who could blame him? You were beautiful, intelligent and charismatic, even if you were a little shy, Toto understood why people orbited around you. But damn, that didn't stop Toto from being jealous of you, how could someone as smart as you not see that the McLaren kid was flirting with you?

It was clear how interested Lando was in you, very interested in fact. And that made jealousy bubble dangerously inside him and Toto didn't like that, he was confident, he knew you were in love with him, but fuck it, he couldn't help it.

It was time for him to make it clear who you were with.

He rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and walked over to where you were talking to Norris, who was too distracted to notice Wolff's approach.

Lando took a step back when he finally noticed Toto, the older man wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed his temple, keeping his dark eyes on Lando, making his message very clear.

"Norris" he said, making you even more attached to him. "Schatzi, shall we go? The car is waiting for us."

Lando swallowed, Toto's gaze was a subtle threat and he wasn't about to provoke one of the fiercest crew chiefs on the grid. You were forbidden ground. The British pilot said a quick goodbye to you and left.

“I know what you did, Toto” you hummed, feeling him kiss your neck, oblivious to who might be watching.

“That’s great, I hope everyone knows and stops flirting with you,” he said, making you turn to him. “I don’t want any boy who’s barely out of diapers trying to win over my girl.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“You look cute when you’re jealous, honey.”

“Just for you, schatzi”

SEBASTIAN VETTEL:

He was watching the news when he was attacked by a five-year-old girl with two missing teeth. “I got you, monster!”

He pretended to be in pain as he writhed on the couch, making the little girl laugh. “Oh no, she managed to hit me!”

Sebastian pulled the girl onto his lap, tickling her belly, Eva laughed loudly trying to dodge the tickles until she was surprised by kisses.

“How was school today, princess? Did you learn a lot today?”

You watched the scene leaning against the door, Eva and Sebastian spent hours there playing after school, the girl told you everything, from when they had finished and reached the letter F in the alphabet until the time who arrived home.

“Make her wash her hands, Seb, I’ll go to the kitchen to see if lunch is ready.

“You can leave it to me, Süße, This little pig is going to wash her hands very well” and with that, he threw the girl over his shoulder and took her to the bathroom.

Eva and Sebastian were extremely close, Eva was the apple of her father's eye and Sebastian was Eva's master idol, she adored her father more than anything.

“Daddy? Can I tell you something?” Eva asked softly.

“Sure love, whatever you want.” He poured some soap on her little hands. “What’s wrong?”

“One of the teachers at school seems to like Mommy.”

Sebastian didn't stop rubbing Eva's hands, but the crease between his blond eyebrows made it clear that he had listened and didn't like what he heard.

“Is that so, dear?” He asked

“I think so, Daddy. He always gives her a rose, but Mommy throws it away.”

Maybe it was time for Sebastian to start picking up Eva from school.

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll talk to him and he’ll stop giving Mommy flowers.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Eva said, swinging her little feet as Sebastian washed his hands.

And the next day he was there, he respected the teachers a lot, but he needed to put that little teacher in his place. Sebastian smiled politely, asking Eva to stay in the car, playing with the Rubik's cube after the girl pointed out who the inconvenient teacher was.

“Mr Vettel, it’s a pleasure to see you in our school” The professor greeted him and Sebastian gave a tight smile, before standing two steps away from the professor.

“I’ll be brief, my daughter is in the car and my wife is waiting for us at home, so stop giving my wife flowers, or you’ll get flowers too” Sebastian’s smile widened “on All Souls' Day,” he added, giving the teacher a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I hope I was clear.”

“Like water,” he replied stammeringly.

“Great, you're a smart guy, so I won't have to report you for harassment, I'm glad we understood each other." He said and left, whistling as he walked to his car. Eva didn't even take her eyes off the cube, obsessed with the toy ever since Kimi gave it to her.

“Will he stop falling in love with Mommy, Daddy?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go home?”

FERNANDO ALONSO:

Fernando was the most expressive person you knew, he couldn't keep his emotions hidden, everyone could tell when he was angry, happy or frustrated. This was sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse.

And at that moment, anger and frustration were very present on the Spaniard's face. It was your first time in the paddock since you started dating, you never had so much time to travel with him and follow the races, so everything was new to you. He was happy to have taken you and couldn't deny that he hoped you would stay close to him, knowing everything. He didn't think another pilot would take his attention.

But apparently, Jenson Button and Michael Schumacher had your full attention, you were so excited to get their autographs, you were smiling so excitedly that you could barely sit still. Fernando didn't want to be rude, didn't want to ruin his first experience on that side of the racetrack, but damn, he was jealous.

He didn't remember seeing you act so excitedly towards him like that. Still biting the cap of a pen, Fernando returned to the Renault pit, he knew that Michael or Jenson could accompany you if you wanted to return to the garage. Fernando wouldn't let his jealousy make your visit to the paddock a bad thing, he might be jealous but he still wanted you happy.

In the garage, he engaged in conversation with his mechanics and engineers, preparing for the free practice session that would take place in a few hours. But his mind was still focused on you, happily bouncing around your “favorite pilots,” he mentally sneered, his mouth twisting in spite.

“Do you understand?” one of the engineers asked and Fernando nodded stiffly.

“Of course I understand, I’m not an idiot,” he replied, putting his hands in the pockets of his overalls before being hugged by you.

“I looked for you like crazy, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back to the garage?” You kissed his shoulder, leaving a light pink lipstick mark on the flame retardant.

“I didn't want to interrupt your very interesting conversation with Button and Schumacher” he couldn't help the bitterness in his voice, making you frown in confusion.

“Whoa, why are you like that, baby?”

“Mhmm? You’re imagining things, corazón” Fernando said, avoiding your eyes, so he didn't see your mischievous smile. He often forgot that you knew him better than anyone else.

“Am I really? Then why did you leave me alone with Michael and Jenson?” You questioned, circling him until you were facing him, watching the pilot look away as he ruffled his unruly hair. “Oh, you’re jealous.”

“Me? Jealous of Jenson and Michael? You’re going crazy, honey.” He laughed mockingly.

You weren't affected by his sarcasm, you just hugged him again and pressed your lips to his chin, listening to his breathing hitch. Fernando finally released the tension that held his shoulders and hugged you tightly, drawing a smug smile from you.

"I see right through you, Nando, and I can tell when my man is jealous, don't try to fool me," you said sincerely. "I really like Jenson and Michael, but it's you I love, now go out there and kick all their asses.”

Fernando smiled and kissed you warmly. “If I bring you the trophy, will you give me a son?” he asked as he walked away from you.

“Maybe, who knows?” you smiled mischievously and walked away, going to his team to watch the training, giving the pilot a little peck while stealing his cap.

JENSON BUTTON:

Jenson was not a jealous man, he loved to show you off, to let everyone know that you, a beautiful girl a few years younger than him, had chosen him. He tried not to be arrogant, but he loved you being the center of attention, and the fact that you always wanted to go unnoticed made everything better.

“I'm going to get myself some coconut water, do you want it?” you asked, lifting the brim of Jenson's cap to get his attention. “Jen, are you listening to me?”

“I'm always listening to you, peach” He said, crossing his fingers over his abdomen as he looked at you, smiling cheekily. “I’d love to, if you could bring it...” he said pulling out his wallet and taking out the card for you.

“Nah, don’t even think about it Button! I can afford a coconut water for me and my boyfriend!” you said and marched to the kiosk by the beach. Jenson pulled down the brim of his cap, watching you walk away.

Jenson watched as a few men looked at you as you walked by, admiring your curves. Some even tried to get your attention, but Jenson saw you ignore them all, going to get your coconut water.

It's not like any of those idiots could have you.

He lifted his cap, keeping his eyes on you, ready to avoid any bad situation you might face. But you walked back to where he was, holding two green coconuts, you were blushing and had a cute pout on your lips.

“What’s wrong, peach?” he asked, pulling you to sit on his thighs, he kept his hand on your hip, playing with the bikini string that escaped your jean shorts. “Did some idiot say something stupid to you?”

“Nothing much, don’t worry,” you said before he kissed you so hard that it made you blush. “Jen! We’re in public!”

“I couldn't help it, peach, your mouth was calling me for a kiss, I couldn't be rude”

You slapped him on the chest, making him laugh. Jenson noticed that no one else was looking in your direction. Just because he wasn't jealous didn't mean he wouldn't make it clear that you already had someone.

He.

MARK WEBBER:

It was supposed to be just a family dinner, his family already knew Mark, they were used to him being present at family events and it was always a surprise when he didn't show up.

It was supposed to be just dinner, but what would family gatherings be without a little drama? The entire table was engaged in a conversation about Formula One's return after the summer holidays and you were laughing at the silly argument between your father and Mark, your father was a big supporter of Lando Norris and Mark made no secret of his preference for Oscar Piastri when the door opened, revealing his older brother and best friend, Ben.

Well, it had been your ex-boyfriend in high school and you had a bad breakup and he hadn't gotten over it, even after years.

“Wow Y/N, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you” he said after greeting everyone, he came to you with a nostalgic smile that didn’t affect you. “You look beautiful”

You gave a polite nod, even though you had gotten over it, continuing to keep in touch with Ben was never an option for you.

“It's kind of you, Ben... This is my husband, Mark” you introduced them, seeing Ben give a dry greeting, Mark responded in the same way and continued talking to his father as if no one had interrupted. You hid your smile behind your wine glass, Mark acted exactly as you expected.

The conversation continued and you ignored Ben's indiscreet glances at you, it wasn't like Mark wasn't there for Ben to try to gain his attention so blatantly. Everything got worse with his comments, sometimes flirting with you, sometimes trying to get a reaction out of Mark.

Those attempts were turning dinner, which was supposed to be light and fun, into a cold war zone. You were tense and Mark noticed this, placing his thick hand on your thigh, gently caressing your skin to calm you down; a sign that he would take control of the situation and put his ex-boyfriend in his place.

You smiled, grateful and proud that Mark was your husband.

“Out of respect for my in-laws, Benjamin, I ask that you stop trying to flirt with my wife, or I will knock your teeth out.” Mark spoke calmly before swallowing his shot of whiskey, you heard your brothers cough nervously and your cousins giggle.

You knew Ben would give a bad answer, he was a provocative jerk and would try to push Mark over the edge. Not that it was the wisest move, not when on the other side of the fight was a former Formula One driver who was driving a car weighing over a ton at three hundred kilometers per hour.

“Maybe I’m trying to make her see that she made some bad choices, but everything can be fixed if she wants it to be.”

Mark laughed.

“Breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake, Benjamin, it was a deliverance,” Mark retorted and your eyes widened. “Don’t think for a moment that you have any chance with my wife, I can't speak for Y/N, but I guarantee she doesn't miss you at all.”

Benjamin stammered like an idiot until he managed to form a sentence.

“You don’t know that”

Mark laughed more and shook the glass, playing with the ice “of course I do, I work hard to make sure there’s only room for me in her heart… so don’t be stupid and stop embarrassing yourself in front of everyone”

Mark's hand squeezed your thigh and you smiled, resting yours on top of his.

KIMI RAIKKONEN:

He hated parties, crowds, loud noise, people smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, urgh, he hated. But Kimi's karma was to be in love with a girl in her early twenties, enjoying the last moments of her college life before her obligations of adult life become part of your daily life. So there he was, leaning against a wall in a nightclub, looking away from the dancing crowd, his rigid posture and disinterested expression keeping the curious away.

He shook the glass, making the ice cubes collide with each other as he watched his girlfriend dance happily on the dance floor, surrounded by a few friends.The Finn's icy eyes roamed over her body relentlessly, appreciating how happy she seemed to be as she moved to the pop music, that made it worth going to that hellish nightclub, he would do whatever he could to ensure your happiness, even being there, outside of his natural habitat.

The ice surrounding Kimi cracked a little when he saw you smile at him, your bright eyes and happy aura made that torment worth it. You walked towards the ex-pilot and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Honey, come dance with me,” you invited, pouting slightly to help convince him. “Just one song.”

“You know I'm terrible at this, lumihiutale, I'd rather watch you” he said and nibbled on your lip, making you whimper.

“You’re a bad guy, Kimi.”

He gave a smile, very rare for other people, but routine for you.

“I suspect you like it, princess.”

“You’ll never hear that from me.” You closed your mouth with an imaginary zipper and joined your friends. Kimi left the glass on the table and looked around, seeing a strange man staring at you. The Finn knew then that his evening, so pleasant, would encounter an irritating obstacle.

You were completely distracted by your friends, dancing and singing happily, you looked beautiful under the neon lights of the club, fucking beautiful.

He trusted that you would be okay for a few moments while he went to the bar to get you some water; when he came back, he found a boy surrounding you, trying to ask you to dance, even if you denied it and raised your hand, showing the promise ring. Not that this had dampened the boy's spirits. Kimi felt a strange spark ignite inside him, that boy — who didn't even have a beard — seemed to be close to his age and wasn't as ugly. What if you preferred someone your own age? Someone who would go to clubs and parties with you without complaining? Someone who would dance with you?

He growled lowly and walked over to where you and the boy were, and was present, seeing the boy's eyes widen, recognizing him.

“Get lost, kid,” he said simply, putting his arm around your shoulders, making you press your back against his chest. “She doesn’t need a brat like you.”

The boy stuttered and stumbled away, making you laugh.

You turned to Kimi, your cheeks were flushed and you were smiling.

“You being jealous is a new scenario for me, I think I like it” she stood on her tiptoes, sealing a quick kiss on his lips, Kimi slid her hands down to your hips, bringing the two of you closer together.

“Jealousy? I have no idea what that is, sweetie...” he said. “Shall we go home? I need to prove to you that you really don’t need inexperienced boys.”

His eyes lit up with mischief and expectation. “Not that any other guy besides you interests me, but I accept your proposal.”

In the end, his questions were ignored, you were Kimi Raikkonen's girl and no stupid boy was going to change that.

[charliemwrites]

Mafia au with Price perspective

Content: Implied Violence

John, for the life of him, can’t believe he ever ran SpecGru without you.

It’s a hit to his pride to admit it, certainly. That an outsider has discovered a small conspiracy within his own organization less than three months into employment. That, apart from even that, he’s never been less scattered, having someone right by his side remembering details, appointments, bits of information.

Morning smells like Earl Grey and your perfume now. Steam mixing with whatever you’ve spritzed for the day, his own little aroma therapy. Revitalizing after however late the previous night dragged him out.

In general, you’re like a breath of fresh air. A smiley little charm of color and delicacy in his world of saturated shadows, blood and brutality.

Clean-cut dresses with patterned tights, soft-knit scarves. Lace accents and modest stilettos. Thin, sparkly jewelry and smart makeup. The scent of you drowns out the lingering burn of gunpowder; or maybe just transforms it into something heady.

John lingers on your hair. Smooth ponytails, tight coifs, intricate braids. Likes when it’s loose enough to brush you shoulders and neck, a little bounce to it as you toddle in and out of his office.

You’re gorgeous, he knows it like a gun in his hand or the stench of fear in the air. Has encountered (and indulged) in more than his share of stunning women. Women with beautiful smiles, and bright laughter, and sweet voices. Cunning women, too. Women who could outfox all but his best on any given day.

You have all of that in spades, though you’re not the first.

The difference, he thinks, is your sincerity. You’re never anything but honest with him. Even when you maybe shouldn’t be. Not that you share your opinion every time you have one, but if he asks for it, you’ll answer without pulling punches.

Respectful, always. Polite. But scalpels are elegant tools as dangerous as any dagger. You’re not cold by any means, but you’re made of steel. Precise and implacable in some ways. Have never hesitated too look him in the eye and cheerfully explain why he’s wrong.

That, he knows, is a rare commodity.

“I understand this is time sensitive Mister Graves, but raising your voice is not going to open Mister Price’s schedule.”

Your voice goes silky when you get like this. A finely draped, overly pleasant “no” in each word. A wall is still a wall no matter how finely it’s painted.

You’ve just gotten your nails done again, glossy wine red tap-tap-tapping over your customized keyboard. Whatever Philip is saying on the other end does not seem to be impressing you. Soap and Gaz are trying not to snicker. You shoot them an amused look.

“Well, he’s booked every morning for the next two weeks,” you continue.

John is not, in fact, booked every morning for the next two weeks. There are two mornings with two hours open and you’re serenely looking at them on your computer screen. He doesn’t correct you, interested to see how this plays out. You know he hates Philip and are gleefully taking advantage of that fact.

“Well, Mister Graves, a lot of people have time sensitive issues to bring to Mister Price,” you explain, a touch condescending now. “I’m afraid I can’t reschedule them just because you have… a trip to Glasgow, is it?”

You don’t sound impressed. Neither is John. You clear your throat, arch your eyebrows at him. Put up three fingers. He nods.

“I can schedule you in on the 3rd in the evening. Your assistant said you’ll be back by then.”

You blink, an almost smug curve to your lips at whatever is said. A pleasant shiver runs down John’s spine. Philip will just have gotten in then - a full day of travel after whatever business he’s been up to will put him at a disadvantage.

“Well, I’m afraid Mister Price’s next availability won’t be until the… 8th. So shall we schedule something for the 3rd? I can always call if he has a cancellation.”

A pause. Your eyes narrow into a mean little smile at nothing in particular. Practically glowing with satisfaction. Without your attention on him, he shifts a bit.

“Of course, Mister Graves,” you hum. “I can forward your people the details. Have a lovely day now.”

Soap and Gaz start laughing the moment you hand up. You huff at them in amusement, shaking your head, then turn to John.

“Was there anything you needed, sir?” You ask, syrupy sweet.

John snorts and finally approaches your desk, leaning his hip against the edge as he crosses his arms. You tilt your head to give him your full attention, a stray curl falling against your jaw.

“Since you seem to be on rampage,” he says, “I need you to get a reservation for Friday at Muse.”

You blink at him. “Muse? Sir, that’s… don’t they book that place out months in advance?”

He smirks. “Just use my name, luv. I’m sure you’ll have the rest under control.”

You don’t look convinced, but you slide your sticky pad over - light purple clouds, now. With a pink glitter pen.

“How many and what time, sir?”

“Six for eight o’clock.”

You hum as you scrawl it down, pretty round letters that shimmer under the office lights.

“Before you go,” you say as you set the sticky pad aside. “I have those inventory logs from the docks - as well as the incident report from security that evening.”

You pluck up a neat stack of papers, held together by a star-shaped paperclip. Already he can see pink highlighter on the first page, a little memo-note summarizing information for quick review at the top. Somewhere within, you’ve attached a pink tab to something.

“I’ve highlighted anything in the original shipment that wasn’t found in the inventory log,” you explain, tapping at one of them.

He hums, skims the summary, then starts rifling through the papers. Will never admit how much he appreciates the thoroughness, even if he’s comb through every detail himself just to be sure nothing has been missed.

“Oh, also,” you add, spinning the glitter pen between clever fingers, “I think we should maybe set up a camera near that back entrance to the warehouse.”

He pauses. The back entrance where they do the more gruesome aspects of “business.” Odd that you would suggest that.

“Why’s that?”

You hum. “Well, I’m no narc, but I heard from someone who works over there that one of the shipping guys smokes weed with his cousin in that area. Maybe someone saw them and realized that’s a good way in.”

You shrug, leaning back in your seat again. The computer dings, calling your attention. John shoots Soap a glance, who nods and quietly steps out. You don’t seem to notice, clicking your tongue at whatever you see.

“Nicely done, luv,” he says, voice warm in his chest. You beam at him, pleased as always when he recognizes your hard work. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply.

Twenty minutes later, you tap lightly at the open door to his office.

“Got the reservation!” You announce, a funny little smile on your face. “They were so nice about it too. What are you, some kind of mafia boss?”

He chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

How did he ever manage all this without you?

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Masterlist

[banj0possum]

umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?

Fish Bait

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader

CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?

🌊 You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.

🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.

🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.

🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.

🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.

🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"

🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"

🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.

🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.

🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.

🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.

🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"

🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."

🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"

🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.

🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"

🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."

🌊 "...You're not?"

🌊 "Yeah..."

🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.

🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...

🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.

🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.

🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.

🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?

🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.

🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.

🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"

🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."

🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"

🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."

🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.

🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.

🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.

🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"

🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.

🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.

🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!

🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.

🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.

🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.

🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"

🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.

🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"

🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.

🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.

🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.

🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.

🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.

🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."

🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.

🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"

this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh

[haveihitanerve]

Calling for Dad

um.. so i saw this post a while back about how the Robins all call for bruce on patrol and i unfortunately cannot find it to reblog off of, but uh yeah. i wrote it so-

this post-

Dick breathed deeply through his nose and whirled, sending his foot flying into a nearby henchman's side. The man went flying back, cursing up a storm that ended quickly as his head connected with the wall. Out cold. Dick brushed his hands off in satisfaction. They were almost done, and he could see bruce tying up and fighting a few extra henchmen only a few feet away, at the same time. Dick turned, planning on tying up the ones he had finished, when something cold and hard slammed into his cheek. Dick reeled backwards, landing hard on the ground. He looked up. A henchman was standing over him, a nasty smile on his face, brass knuckles glinting. Dick could feel tears pooling in his eyes. “Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry’ dick chanted in his head. But his lower lip was trembling. And, maybe it was just some survival instinct, maybe it was just some primal knowledge in dicks little gecko brain, but before he could stop himself, his mouth was open and he was crying. “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!!” All he spotted was the pale face of the henchman, before a black blur went flying into it. Bruce was at his side a second later, a soft hand on his cheek, a tender brush of fingers across his forehead, a gentle kiss to his head. Dick didn't even feel the injury anymore, it had been more of a shock than anything else, but Bruce didn't finish patrol that day. And dick stayed wrapped up safe and warm in his fathers cape the rest of the night. 

Jason yawned, sending his right fist into the gut in front of him. He had an exam tomorrow, and Bruce had told him to stay home, but Two Face and Penguin had decided to strike a deal in the warehouse, so they had had to show up. Jason knew B regretted bringing him. And would blame himself if jason failed, but honestly, jason just enjoyed spending time with his dad. Whether it was fighting crime or not. He would take the bruises over passing his exam any day. Jason yawned again. The gut was suddenly back on its feet in front of him. Jason startled back, but too late. He hit the ground. Hard. Boots scraped the floor in front of him and Jason could no longer see Bruce. His heartbeat started to accelerate. There was a hand on his ankle and he was being turned, dragged forward. Jason opened his mouth, and screamed. “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!” The hand on his ankle froze. Then was ripped away. Jason couldn't hold back his sniffle of fear and suddenly bruce was there, a protective hand on his back, an arm under his butt as bruce lifted him and pressed jason's face against his chest, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings into his boys ear and jason lapped them up like a starving kitten, mewling and pushing closer to his dad, safe with the knowledge his father would always have his back. 

Tim knew he shouldn't have been out alone. But he was doing some reconnaissance on the bane and it couldn't be that bad. Right? Wrong. Next thing he knew the young Drake heir was face to face with the dangerous villain, with nothing but a bo staff in his hands. “Ooh.” cooed bane. “Little robin, flown too far from your nest have you?” He snickered, and the sound sent a cold chill down tims spine. “Well well well. Lets have some funnsie shall we?” And before tim could move the bane had grabbed his staff and snapped it over his leg, tossing the remains aside. Tim stared at him open mouthed. Fear. Fear was coursing through his veins like sharp ice. Tim was scared. And there was a crack and Tim guessed it was either his ribs or skull as hot fiery pain swept through his body and he screamed, head colliding with the wall. And he couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe couldn't breathe. But he managed to gasp just enough air into his lungs to muster up one single word. “DAAAAAAAAD!” Bane was on the ground faster than tim could blink. And he started to apologize, begging for forgiveness, to stay robin, please, ‘please bruce don't send me back to the Drake estate’ but bruce lifted him gently and carried him slowly and when tim awoke he was still at the manor, not on the doorstep of the Drakes and Bruce was sitting at his side, holding his hand. And when he started to speak tim felt fear clutch him immediately. But the man wasn't telling him to leave. He wasn't kicking him out. He was telling him about the other Robins who had called dad before him. It was the first time Tim heard bruce speak about Jason so plainly. Without anger or guilt or regret. But rather with warmth. “You are my son Timmy.” bruce whispered quietly. “My son.” 

Stephanie knew she wasn't as experienced as she needed to be to be robin, but bruce had still let her on the streets with him, and she would be damned if she disappointed him. After all, it was just Black Mask. What harm could he do? “Apparently a lot.” Steph thought dryly as she leapt around the man who was swinging wildly at her. She was bleeding from a gash in her thigh, and was pretty certain she had at least two broken ribs. They were really slowing her down but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Wasn't handling. Except. Except she couldn't handle it. Black Mask swung his bat, and Steph didn't make it out of the way in time. The metal connect full force with her side and steph went flying, slamming hard into the concrete wall. She wheezed. Now there was definitely some internal bleeding. Her nose was running and before she could get up, a boot connected with her face. Now it was running with blood. Her teeth felt lose. Stephanie's mouth was so dry. Black Masks taunting face appeared above her and Steph could do nothing more than whimper as pain wracked through her body as he started to beat her. She could taste the throw up in her mouth. Could smell the overpowering stench of iron, from her own blood. Her heart was battering so loudly in her ears from fright if she hadn't heard it she might've thought she was dead. But she wasn't. Dead. She was definitely afraid. She and Bruce had never discussed what they were. She had a dad. He had kids. A daughter. They had never broached the subject of adoption, or even being anything more than slight friends. It didn't matter that she saw him as a father figure. A better one than she had ever actually had. It was this thought, above all others, that rose to the front of stephanie's mind while black mask bloodied her. And it was this thought, above all others, that made her lick her dry lips and scream, with all the air she had left in her lings. “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!!” Black Mask laughed at her. “Authur ain't gonna save you!” he sneered. Arthur Brown had never even crossed Stephanie's mind. Black Mask lifted his fist, ready to bring it crashing down on her head. But it never connected. Not with stephanie at least. But rather with a very large, very angry, Batman. She had never seen Bruce throw anyone. Much less through two walls. But here they were. Hands touched her. Warm hands. Kind hands. The same hands that had cradled her after nightmares. The same hands that had handed her snacks and wordlessly pulled her into a hug when she had shown up on his doorstep, wistful and ashed, slightly bedraggled, begging for sanctuary. The warm hands of her father. “Dad.” She choked. “Shhh.” bruce soothed softly, stroking her hair as he lifted her, like a newborn calf, into his arms and carried her home. “Its alright sweetheart. I've got you.” 

Damian had never called Bruce dad. It just wasn't done. Mother was Mother, Grandfather was Grandfather, and so naturally, Father was Father. He knew other kids didn't agree. Had heard his classmates shriek with joy and cries of “DAD!” And “papa!” when greeting their fathers. Even his siblings did so, whether Cassandra threw herself at him with a cheerful “daddy!” or jason tossed an arm around his shoulders with a heartfelt “hey pops” or tim and dick, who had no issues with plopping themselves into his lap and purring “daddio.’ when they needed something.  Even Barbara had taken to calling Bruce ‘dad 2.0’ from time to time. Damian had never even considered calling his father dad. Much less on patrol. Except. Except he had heard his brothers chatting about it. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But they hadn’t exactly tried to be quiet either. “B don’t love me!” Jason had shouted, plopping with an over dramatic sigh onto the couch. Dick didn’t even look up from whatever he was working on, just laughed. “Sure jason. Remember that time you called for him on patrol?” Tim chuckled, walking in as well and sitting on the couch opposite his brother. “Oh yeah.” He let out a high pitched scream and imitated a young Jason. “Dad!” They all laughed. Jason couldn’t contain his smile. “Yeah yeah. I know. He loves all of us. It would be nice if he showed it differently than just arriving when we need him, but it’s sweet all the same.” “Aw.” Dick cooed. Jason threw a pillow at him. Tim laughed. “Robin calling for his Dad is still the scariest thing a villain can hear.” The others chimed their agreement. Damian filed the information away carefully, planning on testing that. To see if father reacted with the same rage his brothers had described for him as he had for them. Damian had never seen his father snap. Had never seen his ruthless side. According to his siblings that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Damian huffed, throwing a quick and effortless punch to the man in front of him. He hit the dirt without even managing a sound of pain. Damian smirked in triumph, but the man was up again. Damian flinched as the foot connected with his face. He went flying back, slamming into the chimney of the roof he was on. The man stalked towards him, grinning evilly. Damian scrambled back. For the first time, fear coursed through him. “BABAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” damian screamed. His brothers hadn't been lying. The mans face paled in fear a split second before an angry bruce slammed into him, fists flying. Damian wasn't entirely certain his father had stuck with his no killing rule. But that didn't matter. Because Father was here now, holding him close, snuggling damian into bed, kissing his head. And Damian started calling Father Baba. 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie Morningstar, actual princess of hell, sitting very stiff and straight and awkward on the throne of hell during a Formal Thing, looking very Uncomfy about it... until....

Vaggie: "Are you guys all blind? She's gorgeous up there."

Angel Dust: "No surprises YOU'D like seein' her all stiff."

Vaggie: "Fuck off. She looks dignified. Formal-"

Alastor: "Tense?"

Niffty: "Like rigger mortis!"

Cherri Bomb: "Like she's sitting on TNT."

Angel Dust: "Stiffer than a porn star tryn'a pay rent."

Husk: "I can hear her fucking teeth grinding through that forced grin."

Vaggie: "Alright, she's a bit nervous sitting on the throne of hell for the first time, filling in for the absent queen mom and the shut in king dad. So what."

Alastor: "It is becoming SLIGHTLY detrimental, ha ha!"

Vaggie: "You told her to sit still up there and look pretty. Look. She's sitting. She's pretty."

Angel Dust: "You're gay."

Vaggie: "Hi gay I'm her girlfriend."

Husk: (snorts)

Alastor: "I'm SURE she is ALL those things, my dear-"

Vaggie: "Touch me and the sleeve comes off with your arm in it."

Husk: (SNIGGERS)

Alastor: "-but she IS mainly meant to be inspiring CONFIDENCE in her ability to run hell as it's de-facto ruler!"

Vaggie: "And?"

Alastor: "Well it WOULD be nice if she could make the symbolic at of sitting on the throne of hell, in full view of what is MEANT to be HER royal court, seem just a BIT more, hrmm... NATURAL~"

Vaggie: "What the fuck does that mean. She's princess of Hell. However she sits on the dumb chair is natural."

Angel Dust: "Toots, she's third in line ruler of all Pride, an' she looks..."

Niffty: "WRETCHED!"

Husk: "Fucking pitiful."

Alastor: "Once again I shall go with TENSE."

Vaggie: "You want her to relax up there?"

Alastor: "I would rather say, it is VITAL that she does so~!"

Cherri Bomb: "No sweat. Someone give me a drink and I'll slip her a chill pill."

Vaggie: "No."

Angel Dust: "NO!"

Niffty: "I could try giving her acupuncture!"

Angel Dust: "Cherri, we've TALKED about this-"

Husk: "You fucking know how?"

Cherri Bomb: "-don't be sucha stick in the mud, Angie."

Niffty: "You PUNCTURE!"

Angel Dust: "I ain't being a stick in the mud! You-"

Husk: "Unholy shit stop giggling and give me that fucking knife-"

Cherri Bomb: "Yeah, and I wasn't gonna get her royal highness high for real. Just something to take off the edge-"

Angel Dust: "She's got no history with that stuff! She'd be a KITE!"

Vaggie: "Someone hold my drink."

Husk: "-and where the fuck are YOU going?"

Vaggie: "Gonna go help my girlfriend."

Angel Dust: "Whoa whoa wait toots- ya supposed to be lying LOW here, Vagisaurus! Ex-exorcist bitch, remember? Lot's a people here who'd like to KILL ya???"

Vaggie: "If anyone's pissed enough to run up the dais steps and try murdering the princess of hell's partner right in front of her then they deserve to get at least one hit on me. You guys have fun, stick together, don't get killed."

Husk: "Take your own fucking advice-"

Angel Dust: "-aaaand she's took off, right in front of EVERYBODY oh that's just GREAT."

Niffty: "Alastor? Do you want her to die..?"

Alastor: "Right now, dearest? Well! If it helps our princess put on more of a royal bearing, then I fail to see why she shouldn't!"

Cherri Bomb: "Dude."

-

Charlie: "-eighty-three million ducks on the wall, eighty-three million duuucks... take one down.... pass it around..."

Charlie: "-don't think about how easy mom made this look don't think about her seeing you up here and wondering where she went wrong and maybe she did and that's why she left don't think about it don't think-"

Charlie: "... eighty-two million nine-hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine ducks on the waaalllll-"

Vaggie: (swoops down) "Hey."

Charlie: "-oh thank HELL Vaggie! I was just getting-"

(gets smooched)

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: ".... hhh...hi..."

Vaggie: "This armrest taken?"

Charlie: "What armrest. Oh! The THRONE right um no I mean yes you can, or- or we could get you your own chair if you want-!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe, this is good."

Charlie: "It's- it's close!"

Vaggie: "Nice being on eye level for once."

Charlie: "or kiss level."

Vaggie: "Hm?"

Charlie: "NO NOTHING. Ahem!" (using gf's thigh as armrest)

Charlie: "Sooo, how's the party going down there?"

Vaggie: "Typical. Niffty brought a knife."

Charlie: "A knife? Just one??"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "I... guess just a knife's not too bad-"

Vaggie: "Heavenly steel."

Charlie: "H- Did you confiscate-?"

Vaggie: "Husk's working on it. I had better things to do."

Charlie: "Oh." (drooping) "Better things right. Other things. Just checking in on me huh? Um, what is the other things that need doing?"

Vaggie: "Charlie."

Charlie: "Shoot did I forget something?"

Vaggie: "You didn't-"

Charlie: "Something IMPORTANT?"

Vaggie: "Sweetie, you're things."

Charlie: "My things??"

Vaggie: "The things are you."

Charlie: "I'M things? What things- OH I'M THE-"

Charlie: "-I'm the things that need doing."

Vaggie: "Do you?"

Charlie: "N-not in public!"

Vaggie: "Guess you'll have to wait, then."

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: "You know, these are the only times I ever wonder about you maybe being a liiiittle itty bit evil."

Vaggie: "Punishment to fit the sin, babe. I've been having to look at you all evening."

Charlie: "I was WONDERING why your wings were showing!"

Vaggie: "You bring it out in me."

Charlie: "HEHEHEHEH."

Vaggie: "So now we're just gonna have to suffer together for the rest of the night."

Charlie: "That phrasing isn't helping."

Vaggie: "You playing with the hem of my skirt isn't helping."

Charlie: "YOU'RE the one almost sitting on my LAP."

Vaggie: "Emphasis on almost."

Charlie: (sigh) "I wish you were sitting on my lap..."

Vaggie: "You're basically melting into mine now, so there's that."

Charlie: "Your fault." (pouts) "Evil temptress of cuddles denied."

Vaggie: "Hellishly cute seductress."

Charlie: "Distracting tease."

Vaggie: "Speaking of distracting, think the whole room's looking this way now."

Charlie: "Can't blame them. You're lovely, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Charmer."

Charlie: "Beautiful~"

Random Sinner: (charges over) "Murdering EXORCIST! You-"

(FwooOOM HELLFIRE)

Demon Charlie: (SNARLS)

Random Sinner: "...."

Random Sinner: "..... your wings are.. very pretty."

Vaggie: "Thanks."

Demon Charlie: "ANY oThER WORDS?"

Random Sinner: "C-congratulations on the girlfriend, your highness!"

Charlie: (beaming) (sparkling) "Thank you!!"

Random Sinner: (slightly charred) (eases back into the crowd)

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "I know I know..." (huffs) "That was a bit-"

Vaggie: "Hot."

Charlie: "Oh hush." (smirks) (drapes herself over gf's lap again)

-

Alastor: "...Well!"

Angel Dust: "She sure ain't stiff anymore."

Alastor: "Quite so."

Husk: "She's fucking liquefying."

Alastor: "Hrmm..."

Angel Dust: "Liquid like lighter fluid. She ROASTED that guy."

Cherri Bomb: "Are we like, SURE no one slipped anything in her drink..?"

Niffty: "Do you see any DEAD BODIES around Vaggie!?"

Cherri Bomb: "Uh, no?"

Niffty: "Awww. Then no."

Husk: "My grip hasn't gone limp though- Niffty, stop trying to take back the fucking angel knife."

Niffty: "THERE AREN'T ANY CORPSES HERE AT LEAST LET ME HAVE THIS!!!"

Husk: "Fuck no! You'll make corpses!"

Niffty: "I KNOOOOW!!!"

Angel Dust: "Not tonight, Niff."

Niffty: (hanging limply off of knife handle) (sobbing)

Alastor: "Oh dearest don't CRY~" (pats niffty) "Come now- why don't we RELISH how the crowd shies back in FEAR from our DARLING hotel founder!"

Cherri Bomb: "Uhh, they might just be cringing back from all the glittery rainbows..?"

Niffty: (sniffling) "Cr- cringing's good..."

Husk: "She sure as fuck does look full of pride now."

Alastor: "Indeed! MOST satisfactory!"

Cherri Bomb: "Gay pride."

Angel Dust: "In her fucked up battle scarred heavenly wash out murder girlfriend who's giving her big soppy I'm-so-in-love looks."

Alastor: "Ah HA...! Close enough~"

[empress-simps]

for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)

Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!

Beyond The Surface

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language

He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.

He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.

‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.

He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.

“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”

You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.

“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.

“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.

“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”

That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.

“Shall we begin?”

“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.

Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.

“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.

He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.

“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.

Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”

He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.

“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.

Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.

“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.

“It certainly would be of help to me.”

You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?

Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”

He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.

“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”

If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.

“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”

Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.

Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.

“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”

Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.

“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.

“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.

“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.

“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.

“Honey, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, amour.”

Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”

Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”

“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.

“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“

“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.

“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”

Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.

“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”

James choked, “You told her?”

“I did”

“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.

“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”

Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”

“We will, Moony.”

An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.

“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.

Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. ���Thank you.”

“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.

“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.

James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.

Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”

[houseofanticipation]

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

[jwanniie]

ik hanni's so soft, but can you make a fic like I kinda wanna see her as a fuck girl 😭 liek girlie be fuckin girls left and right

And she's like a bball/foot ball player and ur like innocent and ofc a VIRGIN

Mean gp hanni please, and also take ur time 😓

Pairings: G!p Fuck girl basketball player Hanni x fem reader!

Word count: 1,4

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), use of aphrodisiac, manipulation, corruption kink, p in v, fuck girl hanni, virgin reader, reader gets called kitty, little bit of teasing, not proofread, and just filthy smut!!

Jwans note: I managed to make this kinda soft🫣🤷‍♀️

—————————————————————————

You hated basketball, and you hated Hanni. Or maybe you hated basketball because of hanni?

Hanni was one of the most popular basketball players in your whole school, and the most arrogant one. She had girls literally flooding her house everyday or all over her in the school cafeteria.

You’ve heard some of the nastiest rumors about her, from the same girls that she has fucked dumb and threw away the next day, it got to the point that there were no more girls to fuck in your school, she had to “re-fuck” and that was one of the things that she hated. She wanted something new and different, not something she already got to have her fun with. She got bored easily and that’s just her habit.🤷‍♀️

You hated her because of her mean attitude and the way she treated the girls after she got to have her fun with them. Well hate is a big word, dislike is more like it.

You never hanged out with type of people like Hanni. She was way out of your league and you liked your own small group of friends. You guys weren’t nerd but you weren’t popular, you guys just had your grades on the top of the list. You cared for your future and career. So after the cute kindergarten crush and date you had, you never went out nor had some kind of hook up in some available room in those frat parties like most people your age did.

You heard the unnecessary rumor in your school, about your friend group being a pack of losers and virgins. You have no idea who spread that information, but there was nothing to deny except the losers part. You honestly didn’t know what was wrong with being a virgin or not having much experience. But still you had to torment the laughing of the mean girls and the laughing of the fuck girls.

Hanni found the thing, quite alluring actually. The idea of fucking a virgin pussy and virgin mouth, didn’t fail to make blood pressure in her cock and also she’d put you in the list of the girls she has already fucked, so it’s a win win situation for her.

But the real question is…How will she get you under her spell?! You were a hard person to impress or to make a move on, so if she acted nice and kind around you, that won’t impress you.She need more smart and easy way to blind you under the sheets.

The teacher has been nagging about her needing a tutor because of the constant basketball practice and the basketball games. So she have been missing out on lots. Hanni recommended you as her tutor, you were shocked that she even acknowledged you, you were gonna deny but the wide smile the teacher gave and the loud “Good choice” she muttered made you change your mind and accept being her tutor. What is the worse that could happen?

Days come and go as fast as wind, and here you are in front of her door, the first tutoring session. Bringing your hand to knock on the wooden surface. You gave two soft knocks, and not long after, a figure stood tall in front of you. She was wearing grey sweatpants and her teams basketball shirt.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel down to her crotch, the visible little bump in there. She saw how you eyed her length she gave a little dirty chuckle. “Shall we go inside?”

You gulped before meeting her lust filled eyes and nodded hurriedly. The little look she had on her face, made anticipation burn right under your belly button.

You sat down on her black leather couch crossing your legs and she stood in front of you.

“Do you want coffee, tee or juice?” She asked you heading towards her kitchen, you registered what she said. “Juice is fine!” You answered politely.

You waited for her patiently, your bag on your lap, playing with all of the cool zippers and pockets before her figure came with a tray of what you think is Orange Juice and heart chocolates. You honestly don’t know about this combo of Orange juice and chocolate, but you are here as a guest so you must be grateful for what she offers you.

You took the glass of juice from the tray and took a little sip, she offered you heart chocolates with a little smirk. Your heart told you to not take it but your brain shouted otherwise and you obviously went with your brain.

“Taste these new chocolates, I bought them from a cool shop near here!”

You mumbled a low ‘thank you’ and took a bite from the heart chocolate. “It’s good!” You said with a warm smile on your face. “I know” she smiled back at you, or not a smile, it was more like a grin.

You started the tutoring session, it was going peacefully and perfectly, before you felt your panties soaked, you were so wet that you swore that there is a probably a stain on her couch. But what confused you was,why were you aroused? There was no particular reason for you to be this wet.

You felt that your clit was ten times more sensitive and you felt like a horny rabbit, even the slightest touches of her hand on your burning form was enough to make the most sinful noises come out. She saw how you were biting your lip or stuttering when her knee brushed against yours. The drug finally did it work and she loved seeing you in this vulnerable state.

You tried rubbing your soaked pussy against the couch, but soon stopped due to the noises that threatened to fall. She wrapped her hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your heat.

She started groping and rubbing the soft flesh. And you couldn’t help yourself and you let out a moan, your hand immediately found it way on top of your mouth, your eyes wide at the sound you just let out.

She gave once again one of her dirty chuckles “if you want me to touch you this badly you could just tell me kitty!” Her index and middle finger found it way over your clothed clit and started rubbing it.

“Fuck- baby you have a waterfall down here” your breath hitched, your brain too occupied with pleasure and the feeling of wanting more that you are not processing what she said. She took off your pants and started toying with your soaked pussy, playing with your folds, thrusting her knuckles in then pulling immediately out, or pinching your sensitive pearl.

And suddenly all of her touches were gone. Her sweats were getting too uncomfortable and suffocating for her, with one swift motions her clothing was discarded on the same pile as your pants.

She aligned herself with your walls before pushing in, your virgin pussy suffocating her cock in the most delicious way ever.

“Fuck kitty, your pussy is hugging me so tight.” Her eyes were shut close and yours were too. Your sobs echoed through the room walls, you were desperate for more. Her hips started rocking against yours gently, the head of her cock discovering places nobody has ever visited. She gripped on your waist like she could just collapse any moment, the grip so tight that you are sure there is now a red or purple marks there

“I’m the first and only one who is going to run this pussy” she muttered before her face leaned against yours, her lips swallowing your high pitched moans.

Her pace started being desperate, hammering her hips against yours, sweaty skin slapping sounds echoing, moans and groans the only thing your brain processing. Her lips captured yours, the kiss messy and sloppy, exchanging saliva and her tongues sucking on yours.

Your pussy was now swallowing her length even tighter, “Hanni I-I’m close” you uttered, it was more like a moan but she could understand you.

“M-me too kitty m-me too!” She groaned. Her tips continued abuse made you clench once more around her before your orgasm washed over you, leaving you exhausted. Your first ever orgasm.

You felt your insides being flooded with warm sticky liquid and you realized that she came. She snuggled onto you, her hands wrapping around your exhausted form. And your hands around her neck. You knew that you had to take a shower soon, but you want to enjoy this moment for now.

[lionneee]

Your sworn sword

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: oral sex (male), degradation, knife play talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Part 1 -> Part 2

{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerysThanks for reading dear 💙}

Dear Jace,

I am begging you. I read your letter, and it shattered me from the inside.

Aemond’s presence scares me. My father can’t see it, but he is darkness.

He is empty inside.

I do not wish to be here any further, I want to escape. I will join your mother’s cause, I will do anything.

Please, just help me escape from him.

You Lady dear friend.

You wrote it weeks ago. During that time, you tried to avoid every possibility of being alone with Aemond.

What happened that night was something you were deeply ashamed of, and despite how good it felt, it was wrong.

You started to spend more time in the garden, you tried desperately to find some other ladies to be with, you even spent more time with your father.

You started to pay more attention to other people's approaches, you observed more, trying to understand if someone else other than you could have experienced something similar to what you did.

After the way Aemond left your room that night, after burning down Jace’s letter, you felt cold.

It wasn’t cold, but you still felt cold.

You felt alone. Unloved, unwanted.

You found yourself hoping for warm, strong arms to embrace your body, and secure you from the rest of the world.

You found yourself wishing for a different life.

Not as a Lady, but maybe as a commoner, a woman with a nice house out of the city walls, deep in nature, spending the day by taking care of the garden and the animals.

Aemond changed too after that night.

He got more violent.

You noticed the first time a couple did days later, when you were passing by the training yard, and you found him massacrating a mannequin.

He was still the cold, composed, stoic sworn sword you had always known from the outside, but there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name.

Then the day came.

Jace had answered you.

As soon as you held the letter in your hands, you flew in the garden, fidgeting expertly through the trees and flowers, trying to find a place where you knew Aemond would have never found you.

With trembling hands, you quickly broke the sigil with no house stamp on it, and opened the letter.

Dearest Lady friend,

I have tried to ignore your plea for help, for the good of my family, but I couldn’t. The weight of your words pulls on my heart, and though I am torn between duty and desire, I cannot leave you to face this peril alone. 

I am familiar with my uncle’s cruelty, and I cannot bring myself to leave you to it.

I will fly on Vermax, and we shall meet at the confines of your land the same night you’ll receive this letter, in the woods, covered by the trees, where no eyes will find us, and no ears will hear our plans.

Run south, as far as you can before nightfall. There is a hollow oak at the edge of the river, a place where time has forgotten. Hide there until I arrive. You must trust no one. The walls have ears, and shadows grow long in the presence of danger.

Bring only what you need for the journey, whatever you might need in the future you will find it at Dragon Stone. I will fly hard and fast, praying to the Gods to favor us both. We will meet again under the moonlit sky.

Your dear friend, Jace.

He was coming to get you.

He was coming to get you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the weight of Jace’s words settled over you. He was coming to get you, and your long-awaited escape from this nightmare was now within reach. But with the promise of freedom came a flood of uncertainty. You could feel it, each step from this moment would be perilous.

You pressed the letter close to your chest, its words a fragile lifeline to a future you could barely dare to imagine.

You had to act fast.

With trembling fingers, you folded Jace's letter and tucked it inside your bodice. You couldn’t risk anyone finding it, not Aemond, not your father, no one. The moments you had were fleeting, and every second counted.

You rushed back to your chambers, moving with a quiet urgency. Every footstep felt like it echoed too loudly in the silent halls, as though each beat of your heart might betray you. 

“Where were you?” Aemond snarled as he grabbed your arm, stopping you on the way back to the castle.

You turned and looked at him, swallowing with difficulty. You tried to put on a mask of indifference, trying to act as if your heart wasn’t pumping out of your breast.

“Breathing some fresh air.” You said. “In the garden.” You added to be more precise, knowing that he would have asked.

“You know you’re supposed to have me by your side. Always.” He added, his voice low and angry.

He was always so angry.

You knew you had to shake off any kind of suspect, so the best way you thought you could do, was to make him uncomfortable.

“I… I wasn’t feeling very well.” You said, earning a scoff from him, but you didn’t budge. “Ladies problem.” You added, hoping he would immediately drop the conversation. He looked down at you, silently, then he looked away, turning his head to the side.

“Don’t run again.” He growled, then he took a step back, waiting for you to start walking again. You nodded, and turned you back at him.

You were still tense. Too tense.

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your shoulders as you walked back in your room.

You held your hands tightly together on your lap, the excitement at the idea of escaping this place making your hands shake.

As soon as you reached your chambers you stopped a servant on her way out.

“Prepare me a bath, please.” The servant immediately nodded, and you slipped inside your room, leaving Aemond guarding the door.

You took a deep breath, running to your bed, taking Jace’s letter from your bodice to hide it in the pillows.

You were going to run away.

No more castle.

No more nasty looks from the ladies.

No more father.

No more Aemond.

Aemond.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Soon, nightfall would cloak the land in shadows, and that would be your chance. You stood at the window, your hands trembling slightly as you watched the sky darken. Time passed agonizingly slowly. The uncertainty tightened your chest. But you had to trust in Jace, in the bond you had shared since childhood.

In the love you held for each other.

He was your last hope.

As the final rays of light disappeared, you slipped out of your chambers and made your way to the courtyard. 

You found an old dark cloak, you changed into a simple dress, cursing yourself for not owning any form of pants, then you waited. 

You knew you couldn’t go out of the door, Aemond was there, he would have seen you and dragged you back in.

You also couldn’t crawl out of the window, it was too high.

You bit your lip, pacing back and forth.

Maybe if you made Aemond move.

You quickly walked to the door, the cloak hidden behind you and you opened the door of your room slightly.

No one.

Aemond wasn’t there.

He must have gone to grab something to eat or drink.

Perfect, it was perfect.

The moon, pale and full, began to rise, casting long shadows along the walls. The air was cool and crisp, and each breath felt like a battle against your nerves. You moved quickly, making sure not to draw the attention of any guards. You had memorized every path through the gardens, every hidden corner where you could disappear from sight.

Finally, you reached the edge of the woods. The dark canopy of trees stretched out before you, their towering forms offering both comfort and terror. You had to go. You glanced back at the castle, looming in the distance, its towers like sentinels watching over your every move.

Then, without looking back again, you ran.

The forest was thick, but you moved swiftly, guided by the faint silver light of the moon. Branches scraped at your skin, leaves whispered beneath your feet, but nothing could slow you down now. You had to reach the hollow oak, and had to find your way to safety before it was too late. 

The hollow oak. 

Jace had said it was a place where time had forgotten.

The sound of the river reached your ears before you saw it, a soft, rushing murmur that promised refuge. You followed it, breathless and trembling. Then you saw it: the ancient oak, its massive trunk gnarled and twisted by the ages. It stood like a guardian, waiting for you to step into its shelter.

“Back to the chasing, I see.” You screamed at the voice, so near your ear, and so familiar.

Aemond.

Run.

You immediately started running, hoping to leave Aemond behind.

Maybe if you tried to-

You heard a sound of metal dropping on the ground from a distance and froze.

He was dropping his armor.

To run faster.

To get to you.

You immediately started running again, trying to avoid the trees and roots to not fall, but your cloak kept getting caught in the branches.

You had to stop every time and pull it free, until at last, hearing a noise too close to you, you decided to take it off and leave it there.

You turned to start running again, hitting something and falling back on the floor.

Towering over you, with the most hateful look in the world, there was Aemond.

You crawled back, but he grabbed your ankle to pull you right where you were.

“You like running? Like a scared sheep?” He growled as he let go of your ankle, letting it drop back on the ground.

“Get-“ 

“Don’t.” He hissed. “Shut the fuck up.” He pulled off a dagger from his belt, and your body froze.

No.

“Aem-“

“I said. Shut. Up.” He repeated. 

He knelt down before you and slipped the dagger under your bodice, then cut the first inches, making your breasts more exposed.

You gasped surprised as you looked up at him, anger written all over your expression.

“You-“ This time, you stopped yourself, his single eye was threatening enough.

He twisted the dagger expertly in his hand, so the blade was pointing towards him, and the handle was right in front of your face.

“Speak up. I dare you.” There was a faint smirk in his lip, an almost imperceptible curve at the side of his mouth.

You took the challenge.

You opened your mouth to speak, but as soon as you did so, you found yourself with the handle of the dagger between your lips.

You widened your eyes as looked at him, pulling back immediately, but he quickly placed his free hand behind your head, slipping his fingers in your hair.

“Suck.” He ordered as his eye moved to your lips. You let out a growl, that after a harsh, hurtful tug he gave to your hair, turned into a whine.

You huffed, irritated and started to suck the handle of the dagger.

His eye wouldn’t leave your lips, and soon, he started moving the dagger, so the handle would get further inside your mouth, almost to the blade, then he would pull it out.

You let out a gagged choked sound every time the tip of the handle would get too far in your mouth, your head instinctively trying to pull back, but his hand never allowed you to do it.

“Such perfect lips…” He hummed as he kept watching. “Used so wrongly.” His smirk widened as he looked at your eyes, which only hardened further with anger.

He pulled the dagger out of your mouth and stood up.

“You’re always so ready to talk back to me, uh?” He shook his head, chuckling bitterly to himself. “Make my life harder, as if being here wasn’t already an enough humiliation. But take care of you.” His lips curled. “I couldn’t have fallen lower.” 

You would have never admitted it, but his words stinged. Hard.

“Then go away.” You hissed back. He looked back down at you and he undid his pants.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He breathed out a chuckle, pulling down his pants. “I just thought of teaching you another lesson.” He grabbed your hair harshly, pulling them back into a makeshift ponytail. “Stop avoiding me.” He growled, he gave a harsh tug at your hair, forcing you on your knees, pulling your face closer to his crotch.

Now you could see it.

It was long, pale and veiny.

The head was red, very red, enough to seem hurtful.

“Now open your mouth.” He ordered, looking down at you. There was a veil of darkness over his eye, but you strangely didn’t feel threatened by it.

Maybe that was the reason why you followed his instruction and opened your mouth.

Your mouth got filled with something bigger than a dagger handle.

Something that felt softer against your lips and your tongue, something salty.

You looked up at him as he put a hand over your throat, finding him already looking down at you.

“Those eyes almost make me want to do it gently.” He said softly, but his smirk said something else. “Almost.” He added in a lower tone of voice as his hips bucked forward, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth.

You immediately gagged, your eyes filled with tears as you tried to cough around him and tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Watch the teeth.” He growled as his hips moved again, this time less further, enough to not draw a bad reaction from you.

“Hollow your cheeks, my lady.” He said, his voice shifted into a mocking grunt at the last two words. “Breath through your nose.” He instructed.

He kept thrusting in your mouth until eventually, you didn’t feel the need to cough and pull away when the tip of his cock reached your throat. Aemond moved your head on his length, forcing you to always take more. His whole cock was drenched in saliva, it ran down to his stones and your chin, drooling on the ground as well, your cheeks stained with tears of effort.

“There.” He moaned, his eye never left you. “Learning something?” He chuckled as he threw his head back with a grunt, his hands moving your head faster. “It doesn’t matter if you’re not.” He added with a low chuckle. “You’ll have time to learn. Every morning, before breakfast time.”

You grunted, and hollowed your cheeks again, adding more friction to his movements.

“Fuck!” He growled and pushed you away, making you almost lose your balance and fall back. He looked down at you and grabbed your cheeks in his hand, squeezing them.

“You’re just begging to be fucked, uh?” He gave you a light slap on the face, the action leaving you more stunned than hurt.

He growled as he knelt down again, grabbing your hips and turning you on your hand and knees in a move, manhandling you at his liking.

You weren’t sure why you were letting him do everything he wanted.

Maybe because you knew he could make you feel it again.

Heaven.

He raised your skirts with urgency and grabbed the dagger from the ground to tear your underwear and thighs.

“Ladies problems, uh?” He chuckled, looking down at your core, glistening with juices. “My dearest friend.” He laughed, citing the letters between you and Jacaerys, as you felt your cheeks hot at his mocking tone, the way he made it sound like a lame, shameful way to address someone. “I’ll fuck you until you won’t be able to walk on those legs.” He said as he passed his fingers on your core, finding it drenched.

It only amused him more.

“You liked being taught a lesson?” He asked, he leaned forward, grabbing your hair to pull your head back, making you arch your back as he slipped his finger inside your mouth, making you taste the strange fluid.

“You drenched my cock enough, you had to be sure you too were wet enough? So I could fill that virgin cunt of yours?” He mocked you as your face felt hotter, shame filling your chest. You tried to mumble something, but he kept moving his finger in your mouth, making it impossible to speak a word. “What’s that?” You could hear how amused he was, and it sent another pang of shame through your body. “Right. Not so virgin anymore.” He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, straightening up to look back down at your core, grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them apart. “Not after my cock spreaded you open.”

He gritted his teeth, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you as he barely even slipped in.

You shifted on your place, biting your lower lip as you moved your hips back to meet him, to try to feel it again inside you.

Aemond obviously laughed at that.

“Not even resisting.” He hummed, pushing the angry tip of his cock past your folds, earning a sound between a moan and a whine. “Do you think you’re ready to take it all, mh?” He asked as he leaned forward, letting his length move further inside you. 

You groaned as your fingers sighed in the dirt, your eyes rolled back as you felt him filling you slowly, inch by inch.

“They say it’s supposed to be painful the first time.” He said as he pulled your head back again, so he could see your face from above. “But look at you. You look like a whore.” He smiled and let go of your hair, letting you fall back on your hands. “Do you like the pain, my dearest friend ?” He pulled back, and thrusted back in with a firm, hard movement.

“Ah!” You gasped as your body jolted forward, a small pit in your lower stomach pulsing in pain, that you welcomed with a moan as Aemond slipped a hand between your bodies to rub at that sweet pearl hidden between your legs.

Aemond thrusted again, with the same force, slowly picking up the pace as the pain you felt started to fade away, leaving space for pleasure, pleasure and pleasure.

You couldn't have controlled it even if you could have, so you just let your voice out, moaning at every movement he did, focusing only on the heavenly feeling, not even hearing the puns of wings battling in the wind.

Aemond rose his eye to the dark sky, smiling.

“Look who’s here…” He hummed as he grabbed your hair again, tugging you back until your eyes looked at the sky.

A dragon.

Jace. 

“He’s here for you, isn’t he?” He laughed in your ear. “Maybe we should invite him to watch.” He whispered.

Jace.

You thought.

I’m here. See me. 

You watched as the dragon flew in circles for a while, getting closer to the ground, but then, he rose back up, faster, flying away at high speed.

“Looks like he won’t save you.” He added. “No chance to be a princess now.” He laughed. “Not that you’ve lost much. I could make you a queen.” He added in a lower voice.

“Impossible.” You choked out after another of his punishing thrusts. “You’re a-a second son.”

Aemond pulled his hand off your pearl, grabbing your hips and moving them back back against him, making sure his cock was deep inside you before he stopped his movements completely.

“I guess you’re right.” He whispered in your ear. “You’ll have to settle as my slut then.” He pushed you back down, until the side of your face pressed against the dirt, his hand tight on the back of your neck and he resumed his movements with a newfound speed, every thrust knocking the air out of your lungs. “Mine.” He clarified, his voice strained as he grabbed the skin of your ass again, spreading it apart to see his cock slamming inside you with a wet, squelching sound. “Hear how wet you are.” He moaned as he moved his hands to your hips, his fingers digging in your skin. “It doesn’t even look like you need to be saved.” He planted his feet on the ground, raising from his knees and bringing you back with him so he wouldn’t have to pull out, he stayed down, his legs bent as he started thrusting again, the new position allowing him to get deeper, touch spots inside you you didn’t know existed, his head bullying a particular place inside you, that make your jaw fall slack and your eyes roll in the back of your skull, your sounds reaching another volume, showing another level of pleasure.

“Yeah, moan for me.” He growled. “Moan and come for me, come on my cock —“ He panted. “Fucking drench it even more -“ He snarled as he managed to move faster, inhumanly possible, and drawing you closer to heaven.

You felt your stomach clench, tense almost painfully as your walls squeezed his cock, gifting your ears of another moan from him.

“Come.” He ordered. “Come on.” He added with some urgency. 

You groaned louder, your hands closing into fists as you felt the tension snap, and you completely let go of everything.

“Aemond — !” You let out a long moan as your climax hit you, waves of pleasure crushing on your body, followed by some shivers that made you spasm lightly.

“Yes — Fuck!” He moaned as he pulled out of you, jerking himself furiously as he kept the tip of his cock pressed against your clit, his other hand on your lower back to keep you still as you tried to squirm from overstimulation as his tip rubbed against your pearl.

Aemond let out a choked moan as white strings of cum painted your core and inner thighs.

What followed was a moment of silence, except for your panting and the sounds wind and nature in the woods. You closed your eyes only for a moment, until you heard Aemond stand back up and start to walk away.

You panicked a little and lowered your skirts, raising on your hands as you tried to see his silhouette in the darkness.

Was he going to leave you like this?

In the middle of the woods?

You sat up on the ground, fixing your skirts as you looked around.

What if there were wolves around?

But then, two strong arms slipped under your knees and around your waist hoisting you up.

Aemond started walking out of the woods, where his horse was waiting.

“I would never leave you. Especially not like that.” He said calmly.

Hell the wolves.

You had a dragon.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 3: His Perfect Girl

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: After your photoshoot, President Snow prepares you a bath and you get ready for dinner. With the help of the bath, some wine, and some special chocolates, you’re feeling for him have seemingly changed…

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, choking, oral (f!receiving) , nicknames (baby, good girl), semi-rough sex, use of aphrodisiacs, dark themes, toxic themes, obsession, stalking, possesion, kidnapping

A/N: hiiiii! I’m back! i know it’s been a while and i apologize it’s been a rough August/end of July, but I’m back, I’m better than ever (hopefully…) work has been killer (I’m just a lil ole tech at a hospital y’all) and i had some personal life problems…so i hope you enjoy this, i was planning on finishing Summer Highs by the end of August but we shall see. Thanks to all who have continued to support me and this account i appreciate it greatly. Much much love ♥︎

Series Masterlist

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After you finish up the photoshoot, you’re whisked away to your bedroom. As you enter, the aroma of rose petals and chamomile fills the air. It’s hot and steamy and you peak into the bathroom as you walk in. You look around the room and on top of the bed sits a rose gold, silk robe and another letter. Only ce the maid closes the door you pick up the letter and read it.

My dear,

I was able to see the photos from today. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Absolutely stunning. You will look just as beautiful at dinner, I’m sure. Freshen up. Your bath is ready.

- C.S.

You sigh and once again remember that he can see you. You take a deep breath, the enchanting scent of the room flooding your senses. He wasn’t wrong. After sleeping on the floor all night, then modeling all day, you did feel sore in places. You take the robe and waltz into the bathroom. The porcelain tub is steaming and the water is littered with rose petals. Next to it, a small table, with a flute of champagne and three chocolates wrapped in gold foil. You test the temperature with your hand. The warmth is so inviting, you can’t resist. He’s even laid out a towel for you at the edge of the bath and had candles lit. It’s romantic in a way.

You strip off your dress, letting it fall to the ground and sink in. You submerge into the hot water and let out a soft sigh. It envelops you like a warm blanket, unwinding your knots, aches, and pains. You feel an immense wave of relaxation wash over you. You pick up the flute of champagne and sip. The bubbles dance on your lip and down your throat. It’s delicious, delicate, and lulls you further into a calm state of mind. The warmth of the tub encompasses you, melts your thoughts away. Maybe you could get used to things here for a bit.

Maybe this isn’t so bad

You think to yourself and your mind drifts off to President Snow of all people. You take another deep breath in and reflect on lunch. You’re torn. For the first time since being here, you feel like you’re noticing how handsome he is in person. You had seen him in pictures and on TV counetless times, always admiring the handsome young blonde. Before the gala, it was fair to say you were attracted to him, how could you not. He was one of the most handsome men in all of Panem and for most people completely unattainable. Yet, being his prisoner had put a slight bad taste in your mouth about him, an eerie feeling you can’t seem to shake.

The bath is helping however, and it’s hard to feel that sense of unease, when the water is so comfortable. You bite your lip, letting out a long sigh. Soon you would be with him, accompanying him at dinner. But now the thought of it doesn’t sound so bad. A nice meal, some wine, it truly sounds inviting. You take another sip of champagne and start to feel the buzz. You haven’t been this pampered in a while, despite your modeling career.

After a few more minutes soaking in the tub, you get out, take the towel, and wrap it around your body. Once you're dried off you put the robe on. When you exit your room you nearly forget he can watch you, but you seem to care as much. You had finished your champagne and was not just tipsy, but drunk off the aromas and warmth of your bath.

When you walk back into the bedroom there is a new outfit on your bed. It’s your dress. The red dress from the night of the gala. It’s an elegant red silk, with an across the shoulder cut and a slit that stops at your upper thigh. A pair of black heels lay at the foot of the bed and you recognize them as the same ones from that night as well. Along with the dress, he has given you a new accessory. A heavy, thick, silver, chain necklace. It’s intimidating, but nonetheless you take it back into the bathroom and change. You take time to also fix up your hair and makeup, despite having little tools to make your hair look nice. Once you feel you look your absolute best, you exit the bathroom and knock on the door. The maid opens it up, smiles and escorts you out of the room, along with the guards. They lead you back to the dining room this morning, where Coriolanus is looking out the window, sipping on a glass of red wine. The maid shuts the door and he turns around. He’s changed since you’ve last seen him. He now stands before you in a pair of dark, blood red slacks, and vest on top of his crisp white button up. He smiles and walks over to you, his black dress shoes creating an echo in the room.

“Hello my dear, you look incredible.”

“Thank you, President Snow.”

“Please, come sit” he gestures to the dining table.

You obey and take a seat.

“How was your bath?”

“Very nice. I haven’t felt that relaxed in a while.”

“Is that so? I would think a women in your career would have that sort of pampering in her schedule red” He remarks

“Not necessarily. That’s all things they expect me to do in my own time and that’s not always easy. Especially when the Capitol is always having a new trend to keep up with.”

“You can tell me twice, our citizens seem to change their mind about what’s popular quite often. It makes planning for the games challenging in some ways.”

“Because they want a good show?”

“Exactly, my smart girl”

Your core can’t help but burn slightly at the nickname and you bite your lower lip without meaning to. He smirks at your actions and pours you a glass of wine. You take it from him and take a sip.

“You like that don’t you. Being called my smart girl…”

“I-I don’t unwelcome it…”

“Good. I’ll keep that in mind. Tell me? Did you enjoy the photoshoot as well?”

“I did. I’ve always enjoyed modeling, despite how taxing the hours can be.”

“I’m glad. You truly did look stunning in those photos. I’ll make sure you see them tomorrow.”

You nod your head and take another sip of wine.

“You smell wonderful by the way. There’s more of that to come. Just so you know.”

“More baths?”

“More everything. Baths, clothes, pampering, and…” he holds out his hand, expecting you to take it. You do, without hesitation this time.

“Being treated like the gorgeous creature you are” he kisses your knuckles

“Can I ask you a question?”

He tilts his head and anticipates your response.

“You said you had something for me. If today went well”

“Ah! I do! I’ll show you after dinner” he kisses your knuckles again, smiling.

There is a brief moment of silence, before two avoxes come out with a charcuterie board and two plates. Coriolanus once again pays them no mind as they serve you, leaving a set of plates as well. You go to thank them, but he squeezes your hand.

“That’s not necessary, my dear” he kisses your hand one last time, before releasing it.

You nod to show you understand, then take some cheese and cured meat from the board.

“So what’s after dinner?”

“I thought a night walk would be nice. Get some fresh air then I’ll be taking you to my chambers.”

“To your bedroom?”

“Mhmm” he nods taking some cheese and crackers “and if you want, you can stay with me in my bed tonight…would you like that?”

“T-to sleep with you.”

He nods and smiles.

“Just sleep?”

“If that’s all you want…”

You nervously sip your wine, to afraid to answer. You look away for a moment then look back. He’s still anticipating your response, a curious look spread across his face.

“What do you want?”

He smiles and reaches for your hand again. You takes it and he squeezed it.

“My dear, I want whatever you want. If you want me to bed you properly, I will…”

“But my wants aside, what do you truly have in mind…”

He pauses for a moment, kisses your knuckles, before releasing your hand, taking another bite of cheese, and swallowing it with his wine. He leans back and eyes your body.

“You truly wish to know…”

You nod vigorously.

“Well a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves to be shown how beautiful you are. And not just with nice clothes and a hot bath.” He smirks

“With what then?” You ask

“Let me ask you, when’s the last time you slept with a man?”

You feel a slow heat creep up your face. How could he be so bold and brash towards you? Then again this is President Snow.

“I-well…it’s been a while.”

“Longer than a year?”

“Less than.”

“Did he make you shake, tremble? Make you forget your own name and replace it with his?”

“N-n-no, President Snow”

“Ever?”

“No. I’ve never had a man do that to me. Usually I…” you start, his inquisitive gaze stopping your thoughts.

“Go on” he encourages

“I usually don’t focus on my own pleasure and neither does the other person”

“Is that so?” He grins

You nod anxiously, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“Would you like that? If a man made sure you felt satisfied?”

You shift in your seat. The heat starts to rise from in between your legs and the handsome young face of the president is now ever more apparent. A gentle smirk lays across his face, as if he’s back to being a school boy who answered the professor’s question right over everyone else. The type of look that puts you right in your place. You bite your lip and glance down for a moment. You shift in your seat again, hiding your emotions behind your wine glass.

“Look at you. You do, don’t you? You’ve never been properly touched by a man. They take from you and never give. I don’t like to take things without giving back. Especially when it comes to my need to please a woman such as yourself.”

“I-I just always felt like that’s how it goes.” You admit

“Maybe for the boys you’ve been with. Most men want to make sure their women are good and satisfied. A man like myself, that’s what I love most. I crave it to a degree.” He explains

“So I take it you’ve satisfied many women in Panem?”

“I’ve been known to. Part of why my staff wants me to find a wife. And I’ll admit, I would like to find someone to have as my own. Have you ever been in love?”

You’re once again taken back by his boldness, sipping your wine before answering.

“Once, a few years ago…” you whisper tentatively.

“And not even he treated you how you deserve?”

“No, that’s why we broke up. Because I felt neglected and he didn’t see a problem.”

You look directly at the handsome blonde, and he peers at you, mouth slightly agape, as if he had been horribly offended. His breath hitches as he downs the last of his wine furiously. He sets the glass down and pours himself another.

“I promise, as long as you’re in my care, I won’t neglect you like that. You’ll never feel like that if you become my First Lady. Ever. Do you understand?”

“Yes, President Snow”

You and him move past the topic and into polite conversation. He asks you about how you got into modeling, what you like about it, what you hate. He seems interested in you and your life, nodding along and continuing to sip his wine. Eventually, dinner is served and it once again looks amazing. It looks like a white sauce pasta at first, but on closer examination there are elements to it you don’t immediately recognize.

“I see you’re making a face. It’s a truffle pasta. You can’t even get this in any restaurant in the capital. That’s how rare they are now. I only have chef make it for specific occasions.”

“And what’s the occasion tonight?”

“You. To our first dinner together.” He raises his glass and smiles.

You nod and tentatively smile back, raising your glass and clinking it against your own. You take a bite and immediately let out a soft moan. It’s so savory and rich. The sauce is so flavorful, and creamy. It has a garlic like taste to it, savory with a hint of umami to it.

“It’s delicious.” You utter

“Glad you think so.”

You both eat and enjoy the meal in front of you, talking little and focusing on the flavors. It truly is one of the best dishes you’ve had and you’re not sure how’ll his chef continue to outdo himself. You take your time to eat, the young president occasionally tossing you a glance and smirking to himself. He’s all too amused by your satisfaction with the meal. He loves how pleased you look and is tempted to now see you pleased in a different light. You notice his reaction, and try not to feel so small. You hate how he watches you and try to focus on your food.

Eventually, you both finish and there is an awkward moment of silence as the avoxes clear away the plates.

“Would you care to join me in the garden?

You nod and he smiles. He stands up, taking his wine glass, and you follow suit. He takes your hand and guides you out of the room. You slowly walk out to the garden, holding his hand the entire way. He continues to look back at you, giving you a devious smile each time. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your bare legs and chest. He can’t help but imagine how the rest of your beautiful figure looks and he intends to find out soon.

As he leads you away, you look out onto the garden, which is now lit up by various lights on the pavement and in the rose bushes.

“It’s beautiful out here at night too.”

“Isn’t it?” He squeezed your hand.

He guides you down the stairs and surrounds you in the green and white lush of the rose bushes. He leads you around, walking back to where you and him hand lunch.

“I’d like to see more of the garden this evening if possible?” You request sounding innocent, but you keep your goals of escaping in the back of your mind.

“Of course. But I have something for you here.”

He guides you to the spot where you had lunch, the chairs and table gone and replaced by a single, tall standing iron table with a box on it and a small silver tray covered up next to it. You look at it curiously and he momentarily drops your hand and picks up the box.

“Turn around.” He instructs softly

You obey

“Close your eyes and push your hair back.” You nod and follow his instructions once again.

You hear the box open and then the sound of something metal clinging slightly. You have a good idea of what it is now. He approaches you with careful footsteps. Coriolanus stands confidently behind you, clutching the jewelry in his hand. Slowly, your chin is tilted up by his fingers, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear. He unhooks the chain from around your neck and slides it into his pocket.

“You can keep that one of you want, but I have something far more beautiful.” He whispers

You shutter as he wraps a new necklace around your neck, followed by his hand under your jaw, kissing behind your earlobe.

“Turn around. Open your eyes, beautiful.”

You do as he says. You touch the new necklace and look down at it. It’s a golden rose, and it lays horizontally against your chest. You look at him doe eyed, speechless. Coriolanus grips your chin, forcing your face to look at his. He smirks. Coriolanus wants desperately to kiss you, but he knows now is not the moment. He strokes your face gently, then turns behind and uncovers the platter next to the box. Two chocolate truffles sit on the plate and he takes it, putting it in front of you.

“It’s the finest chocolate I have at the palace. Chef wants you to test out his new recipe. It’s different from the ones you had with your bath.”

He holds the chocolate to you and you part your lips and bite, as he slides the piece into your mouth. He trails his thumb across your bottom lip and to the corner of your mouth. He then licks the excess chocolate from his thumb, his tongue trailing a long, broad stripe.

“Mmm” the blonde moans “you can taste the hints of orange.” He remarks, taking the other piece.

“It is very good.”

“I should tell you this chocolate contains a few interesting ingredients.” He remarks

“Like what?”

“Nothing unusual or man made, just some natural elements. Since chocolate is already…a boost to…” he starts “certain needs…and desires” he says, popping the other truffle into his mouth.

“Will I feel…different”

“Not like a drug no, but you may feel more inclined to want to do something about how you feel.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“You look so pretty out in the moonlight.”

“Thank you Mr. President.”

He smiles at you and you continue to follow him through the garden. He walks you down a path leading to more greenery and bushes. Then the path opens up into a cleared out area with a grand marble fountain. On top of the fountain was a sculpture of a woman, the symbol of Panem. Water flows from the top of her head and back into the fountain

“I’ve always liked this part of the garden. The fountain. What it represents.”

You look at the fountain and walk to it. You look inside and look at images of all the symbols engraved into the base. Coal, lumber, grains, all the resources from the districts. You look at it and realize that the same water flowing out is the same as the water in the base. You slowly put the pieces together of what it means.

“The Flow of Panem. It was built for the last president. In all honesty I want to move it so it’s more front and center.”

“Explain it to me.” You ask, even though you got the idea. You know it will fuel his ego, make him trust you more so hopefully he’ll show you around and then you can really plan an escape.

He smiles and looks at it, tilting his head.

“The base flows into the statue and the statue spits the water back out on the base. The base provides for the statue and the statue gives back.”

You nod and he holds out his hand again and you take it. As he continues to guide you around, you admire how the flowers look under the glow of the lights and moonlight. He finally takes you back inside and at this point you’re holding onto this arm. He loves how you cling to him and by now you’re both feeling the effects of the chocolate. You look up at him and give a soft smile. As you step into the palace he leads you to his bedroom, and a new feeling washes over you.

His bedroom is similar to the rest of the aesthetic of the palace. There is a small area for guests to sit in front of a fireplace. Off to the side, in front of the large window looking out, sits a small desk. You glance around at the many portraits of his family and depictions of younger versions of him. Next to the desk is a spiraling staircase that must lead to his bedroom. In the sitting area, a table stands with another chilled bottle of red wine. Coriolanus invites you to join him by the fire and you do, following him. You lean against the mantel and he gets some more wine, picking up the bottle. He walks towards you, refilling your glass and you thank him. He puts the bottle on the mantle and looks at you with great interest.

“You’re welcome” he whispers, brushing your cheek with his forefinger. “Your skin is so warm here by the fire.”

“So are your fingers” you breathe

You look at him, eyes connected to his own and a small wave of lust washes over you. He trails his touch down to your jaw, holding your chin delicately. He smirks and tilts his head.

“It makes me wonder, where else are you hot?”

He sets his glass next to the bottle and places his other hand on your waist. You set your glass down as well, as his touch begins to light up your body. His thumb brushes your hip and thighs, grazing under the slit of your dress. You gasp at his actions and lightly grip his bicep. He trails his thumb across your bottom lip, then tilts your face to fully look at him. Coriolanus sighs, his blue eyes beckoning for your full attention. You can see how full of need he is. How badly he wants to kiss you, but is waiting for your permission. You flutter your lashes at him slowly, looking at his tempting lips. Your body is begging for you to give in and finally you do. You can’t help it. He’s so handsome, the light from the fire shadowing his features perfectly, causing your head to stir. You kiss him, slowly, carefully.

His breath hitches and he moves his hand to cup your face. He continues to kiss you, moving his mouth with your own slow pace. He doesn’t want to frighten you. In fact, the exact opposite. He finally has you how he wants to and now he’s desperate for more. His lips are so unexpectedly soft and tender, a complete opposite in comparison to his normal demeanor. You continue to kiss him, finding yourself wanting more. Your body continues to betray you as a slow heat creeps up your skin, starting in between your legs.

You pull back with a gasp, almost taken aback but own actions. A greedy smile curls up on his lips. He cups your face and strokes it carefully with his thumb.

“So perfect. Makes me want more of you, my angel”

He leans in to kiss your cheek, then trails it down to your jawline, and then your neck.

“Can I mark you?” He growls

You nod breathlessly and he sucks on your soft flesh. He’s starting to become more and more animalistic with his actions, finding it hard to restrain himself. He pushes your neck further against his mouth and tilts your head back. The heat in between your legs is now becoming sensitive as your core is now throbbing for him. You bet you’ll be soaked by the time he finally takes you. His lips leave another mark on the other side of your neck and he pulls back to admire his work. Satisfied, he traces the marks with his fingertips and looks into your eyes.

“Would you like to continue this in my bed?”

You nod, almost surprised at your reaction. He guides you and picks up his wine glass.

“Take your wine.” He insists

You nod and follow him up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Once up and inside, you briefly look around. It’s clear he likes to keep the aesthetic of the palace consistent and his bedroom reflects that. It’s a relatively plain room. A single king bed, with white sheets, lays against the right side of the room. It has a delicate, hand carved wooden canopy that sits above it, making the bed look cozy and inviting.

He turns to look at you and sips his wine. He once again touches your neck and smirks.

“Finish your glass. It will help the chocolate work better.”

“Why is that?” You ask

“Wine can have a similar effect as those chocolates. They can both help you feel…like you want to give into your needs.”

You take a sip as instructed and look at him straight in his eyes as you do.

“So that’s what the chocolates were then. A boost for…”

“One’s natural desires, yes.” He sips his wine finishing it.

You finish yours as well and he guides you to his bed. You sit and he takes your glass, along with his own, from you, putting them on his nightstand. He returns back to you, sitting next to you. He cups your face again, letting his other hand part your legs slightly.

“I have a feeling you didn’t even need the chocolate though. Hmm?”

“I-I won’t lie, before I came here, I did always admire you.” You admit, despite your need to escape, you once again feel torn, especially now that he’s about to take you fully.

“Yes, tell me more”

“I mean, when I would see you on TV or in the papers, I had thoughts.”

“Mhmm, where I’m doing what I’m doing to you.”

His hands trail more slowly, continuing to part your legs, fingers dancing on your bare thigh.

“Yes, Mr. President”

“Mmm” he hums “have I ever told you how pretty you sound talking to me like that. I love how right it sounds.”

“It’s your title is it not?”

“It is. But you are careful and respectful about using it. You have no idea how different you are. How special. How much it means to hear you say my name like that.”

You watch him as he now gropes your thigh. He turns your chin and kisses you again. He sighs against you, slowly lowering you onto his bed. He doesn’t crawl on top of you however, yet he simply lays by your side, strokes your hair and continues to kiss you. He revels in having you on his bed like this, a sight he’s waited for ever since he first took you to his home. Time and patience had proved him right once again. You spread your legs some more and he moans against your mouth. He pulls back, resting his lips against yours

“Getting needy?”

You nod, and he bites and pulls at your bottom lip causing you to moan.

“Do you like getting eaten out?”

You nod vigorously and he slides his hand under your dress through the slit, grabbing your panties and sliding them down. He chuckles as he goes back to feel your wetness.

“You’re dripping.” He rubs your core slowly, gently “I need to taste you.”

“Please…” you beg

He lets out a low, sinister chuckle as he starts to kiss down your body. Your dress is still on, yet you can still feel the pressure of his lips through the fabric. He finally reaches your thigh, inching down to nestle himself in between them. He drags your dress up past your hips and admires your exposed slit. He looks at you as he rubs it again. You can’t help but moan and clutch the bed sheets. He watches you beginning to writhe under his touch and he truly loves the sight before him. Then he dives in, his tongue giving your core a curious kiss, then a long, broad lick. You shutter and buck your hips. He holds them down, going back in with more conviction. His mouth is so soft and wet against you and you can tell he’s quite experienced in this area. You're not sure how many girls he’s taken home or went to bed with, but he sure knows how to make you feel like the most special woman in the world. Like a man starved, he eats you like it’s his last meal. His mouth envelops your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit with great attention. You can tell he loves it too. Loves to taste women like this. Get all up in it and devour them. Especially you and your perfect pussy. And you taste so divine.

As he continues to lap at you, you continue to struggle against his touch, hips wanting to still buck and legs beginning to shake. You moan over and over and over again. You can’t help but also moan out his name, telling him how good it feels. His hands hook under your thighs as he pushes his face in further to your folds. You’re so sensitive, so needy, dripping and throbbing from your heat. He pokes his tongue through your slit and fucks you with his mouth. Despite his best efforts, your hips buck up over and over again. You squirm at his touch, you’ve never had a man do that to you before. The sensation is incredible and you feel completely lost under the spell of his mouth.

Coriolanus is reveling in your lust. Your whimpers and moans are so sweet rolling past your lips. He wants you to be loud. He wants you to enjoy yourself. He wants to know how much you want him. Let the whole palace hear it too.

“That's it beautiful, let it all out. Let me hear those pretty little noises”

He goes back to your core practically drowning in your wetness and he gives you a few last swipes with his tongue. He kisses your slit then pulls back. He gets greedy, letting his fingers pick up the work from his tongue. He’s so passive, almost experimental, as he plays with your clit. Then, he slides a finger in and then another. You moan and watch him. He sits up on his knees, placing his hands on your pelvis. He curls them up and pushes them in and out of your core. He finds a good rhythm and speeds up. You gasp in pleasure, his fingers working you up so much you feel like you might explode. He speeds up again, changing his hand from a curling motion to a rapid up and down pace. You clench his forearm and flop your head back onto the mattress. He can tell you’re close, your slick, gummy walls wrapping around his fingers like a vice. He watches you, your expression, your pretty face scrunching up. He pulls back just as you know you’re going to finish, he pulls his hand away. You whine at the loss, but your attention is won over by his actions. Coriolanus smirks as he undoes his belt.

“Take that dress off sweet thing.”

You nod and shimmy out of it. He pulls it down and off your body. He gasps at your naked figure, taking in the sight laid across his bed. He sighs, palming himself through his pants as he simultaneously palms your breast with one hand. He pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on. He rubs himself slowly, gawking at you and admiring how gorgeous you are.

“Look at you, so beautiful like this.”

He leans down and kisses your jawline sloppily. He rocks his hips against your pelvis.

“I really, really want you…” he growls

“Then take me” you moan back, your whiny voice sounding oh so desperate.

He smirks to himself, pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, hard and ready. He strokes it in his hand, watching you and occasionally glancing down at it.

“Touch yourself.” He commands

You nod, biting your lip and gently rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in between your legs. You rub slowly and watch him as he pumps his length. A satisfied smile sets in on his lips and he moves his hips closer. He leans down, kisses you and then, slowly pushes in. You moan against his mouth, pull away, and gasp as he bottoms out. He feels so big and full inside you. He slowly moves, grunts falling from his lips as he picks up the pace. Your hand falls away and finds his biceps. His hot breath fans your face as he rocks into you and he eventually captures your lips with his own. Cupping your face and keeping his movements consistent, you feel a slow wave of pleasure beginning to build. He pushes your leg up towards your chest, giving him better access to you. You look down at where he’s entered you and whimper. Watching his cock move in you like this has you drowning in ecstasy. He notices how mesmerized you are and wraps his hand around your neck.

“You’re hypnotized by it aren’t you? Tell me do you want more?”

You nod fervently and he chokes you tighter.

“Let me hear you. Tell me.”

“I need more. Please sir.” You croak

“Good girl.”

He speeds up, his hips getting faster and faster. Coriolanus slams into you, your body moving in sync with his rough rhythm. Your whimpers fill the room and the young president revels in your satisfaction, committing your sweet sounds and noises to memory. He continues to have a tight grip on your throat, almost cutting off your air, but you can still breathe. He stares into your eyes, his lust flooding your soul. He kisses you harshly, lips wasting no time to taste you. He prods his tongue in, swirling it with your own. You can’t help but moan, his hand moving to clench your jaw. He pulls back to look at you again. He looks down in between your legs, then back at you. He snakes his hand down to swirl your clit. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buck.

“That’s it. Show me how much you enjoy this. Just let go baby. Allow yourself to enjoy this pleasure I’m giving you.”

“Yes sir, thank you Mr. President”

“You’re so welcome my dear.” He kisses you again “My good” he groans “obedient…” he thrusts into you “girl.”

He ruts into you, lips still sealed on your own. Your own hands have settled on his back, holding onto him like a bear gripping a tree. The more he moves, you can feel you’re about to explode. Coriolanus picks up on it too, and gives you several purposeful thrusts to trigger your high. And he does. You clench around his cock, letting out a desperate cry of relief. Your legs shake and quiver, and you a series of cuss words flow from your mouth.

“That’s it.. Let it out. Dirty girl, it feels so good doesn’t it.”

He can feel himself getting close too, riding off the wave of your own climax.

“I’m going to cum too baby.” He warns “It’s ok, don't worry about taking it..”

You whine in protest at first, but then you feel it. His white, hot, cum shooting into you, hitting your cervix. Coriolanus slowly rests his hips, letting all of himself spill into you. He feels so satisfied, loving how fucked out you look as he pulls out. He watches the cum roll past your folds, down your ass and leg. He licks the pad of his thumb and trails it up your legs. He shoves it back at you then holds his thumb to your lips. You part them and he nods. You suck on his thumb and he moans, appreciating the sight in front of him.

“You’re so perfect. So gorgeous. You’ll stay with me tonight .”

You nod. It wasn’t an ask, but rather a command. You lick your bottom lip and then bite it.

“I’ll get you a towel and your nightwear. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry I’ll come hold you so you can fall asleep.” He whispers, kissing your cheek.

He crawls off the bed and heads to his bathroom to get you a towel. You lay back, wanting to cover yourself since you’re suddenly more cold. You spot a throw blanket at the edge of the bed and reach for it. You wrap up in it and wait for him to return. You rest your eyes and fold your hands under your head for support. You feel calm, relaxed, and truly satisfied as well. It’s like he’s put a spell on you, not drugging you per se, but you can feel that after tonight, your feelings about this situation have shifted.

When he returns, he cleans you up, then helps change you into a pink, satin sleepwear set, with a lacy top and bottoms to match.

“So sexy. Here.” he holds them out to you and you also see he’s holding a small silver tray with a pill on it.

“This will keep you from getting pregnant. I’ll get you a water”

He walks off, taking your empty wine glass with him. He comes back shortly, the glass now filled with water. He hands it to you, watching you closely as you swallow the contraceptive. You hand him the glass and he sets it down. You just now notice he’s shirtless and in just a pair of boxers as he crawls into bed. You move under the sheets as he lays the comforter over your body.

“Are you comfortable, too warm, too cold?” He asks

“I’m comfortable…” you murmur, slowly lulling into sleep.

Coriolanus settles in next to you, his hips slightly grinding into your ass as he pulls you closer to him, flush against his chest. He places small delicate kisses behind your ear and sighs into you.

“You realize how perfect you are. How perfect tonight has been?”

“Thank you Mr. President. It has been fantastic.” You agree

He turns your chin, kissing you firmly on the mouth.

“You can call me Coriolanus right now. Say it. Tell me what I want to hear.”

“It was perfect Coriolanus.”

꧁🝮꧂

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[mcflymemes]

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you must know... surely, you must know it was all for you.

you are too generous to trifle with me.

if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once.

my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.

you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love... i love you.

i never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

i have struggled in vein and i can bear it no longer.

these past months have been a torment.

i came to [location name] with the single object of seeing you. i had to see you.

are you too proud, [name]? and would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

we're doing our best to find a fault in you.

i have fought against my better judgement, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance.

you really do love him, don't you?

please, do be seated.

this is a charming house.

all these things i am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.

how are you this evening, my dear?

may i have the next dance, [name]?

my brother gave it to me. he shouldn't have.

i wish you would not call me "my dear."

what endearments am i allowed?

what should i call you when i am cross?

i cannot believe that anyone can deserve you... but it appears i am overruled.

are you out of your senses? i thought you hated the man.

have you no objection other than your belief in my indifference?

i do like him. i love him.

only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony, which is why i will end up an old maid.

i love you. most ardently.

please do me the honor of accepting my hand.

i appreciate the struggle you have been through, and i am very sorry to have caused you pain.

believe me, it was unconsciously done.

are you... laughing at me?

i wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?

i thought that poetry was the food of love.

what do you recommend to encourage affection?

i'm very fond of walking.

i do not have the talent of conversing easily with people i have never met before.

perhaps you should take your aunt's advice and practice?

so this is your opinion of me. thank you for explaining it so fully.

those are the words of a gentleman.

from the first moment i met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you were the last man in the world i could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

forgive me for taking up so much of your time.

maybe it's that i find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me.

my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

i cannot tease you about that. what a shame, for i dearly love to laugh.

i will not and i certainly never shall.

you have insulted me in every possible way, and can now have nothing further to say.

i must ask you to leave immediately.

i have never been thus treated in my entire life.

i can admire you much better from here.

do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?

i prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.

i dare say you will find him amiable.

it would be most inconvenient since i have sworn to loathe him for all eternity.

no one would suspect your manners to be rehearsed.

i've come to tell you the news.

not all of us can afford to be romantic.

i've been so blind.

they are far too easy to judge.

i was wrong. i was entirely wrong about him.

i am well aquainted with you, [name], to know that i cannot alarm you, even should i wish it.

your skills in the art of matchmaking are positively occult.

i've never seen so many pretty girls in my life!

i do not deny it.

has the pig escaped again?

we are all fools in love.

[fan-fantasies]

Do You Jest?

A/N: surprise!! I’ve been feeling really down lately so I figured maybe writing might help. This kinda sucks and sounded better in my head but oh well. Enjoy!

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Warnings: Aegon being a shit, salacious language, making out and mild breeding kink if you squint, heavy use of wife and husband

Summary: you’ve known the royal family for most of your life, but never would you have guessed Aemond’s reaction to your own betrothal.

Part Two

“You’re drooling again, brother,” Aegon chuckled. Aemond shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to you.

“Don’t you have some handmaid to go fondle?” The prince scoffed.

“Maybe later. I’d much rather join you in ogling our lady.”

“She most certainly is not your lady and I was not ogling!”

Aemond was becoming more annoyed with his older brother by the minute. He couldn’t help it if his eye was drawn to you- your brilliant dress dazzling under candlelight as you stood on the edge of the dance floor.

A few suitors had asked for a dance but you declined each one, feigning an upset stomach preventing you from twirling about.

“You know her betrothal is being announced in a few days,” Aegon whispered. Aemond’s eye widened at his brother’s words.

“To whom is she betrothed?”

“How should I know?” Aegon scoffed. “Some fortunate bastard that will be between her thighs night after night-“

Aemond grabbed Aegon by his collar and pulled him closer.

“Do not speak of her that way ever again,” he growled. Aegon grinned at him before pulling his hand from his shirt.

The elder brother got up from the table and made his way over to you as Aemond watched in panic. He could see Aegon whispering something to you and your eyes flicker over to where he was seated. You nodded and said something back before heading in his direction.

Aemond thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He had known you since you were both children, your family being close acquaintances with his own. You wouldn’t say you were friends- Aemond always being too shy to approach you, but he had watched from afar as you grew into an amazing young woman.

He often found himself having sinful thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything else when you were around.

You were everything he wished for in a woman; kind, intelligent, beautiful, and gentle. You cared for his family as if they were your own and he was eternally grateful for that. Others often found it easy to judge them, but you never did.

He had secretly hoped that his mother might betroth you to him at some point but when Aegon told him your betrothal was to be announced, all hopes of that disappeared.

“My prince, I was told you wished to speak to me?” You asked, appearing in front of him. He could see Aegon snickering behind you.

“No, I didn’t want to speak with you,” he said without thinking, his tone harsher than he intended.

“Oh…I’m sorry for bothering you then,” your eyes dropped to the floor and Aemond felt horrible. He didn’t mean to come across so rude; this is why he kept his distance from you. He would get so nervous that he always said the wrong thing.

“No! I mean, I didn’t request to speak with you but I should like to- speak with you, that is. You are never a bother, lady,” he rushed out.

“It’s quite alright, Prince Aemond. I see now that Aegon was jesting with me. Please, excuse me,” you mumbled before rushing off. He watched as you left the great hall completely and he wished nothing more than to follow you. But first, he needed to do something about Aegon.

Before he could leave the table, his mother called his name.

“Aemond, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Alicent said softly.

“I’m not in the mood, mother,” he sighed. He looked around for Aegon, but found him nowhere.

“It is quite important.”

“Tomorrow, then. We shall break fast together and we can discuss it,” he said before bowing and excusing himself. His mother sighed as she watched her son stalk from the party.

Aemond wandered the halls until he stopped in his tracks. He saw a figure on the balcony facing away from him but he easily recognized your dress. He wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, but he wanted to make up for earlier.

“My lady, please excuse this disturbance,” he said, slowly coming up behind you.

You didn’t turn to face him or even acknowledge he was there.

“I would like to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“T’is Aegon who has offended me, my prince. For jesting that you wished to speak to me, for getting my hopes up,” you said quietly.

“I shall deal with him once I can find him, I promise you,” Aemond nearly snarled. He hates that Aegon has upset you, but even more so that he somehow contributed to it.

“Please don’t, I do hate it when you two fight,” you sighed.

“As you wish, lady. Just know you needn’t an excuse to come speak to me. It is never a bother to be in your presence.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, my prince,” you bowed slightly and Aemond’s heart sank a little.

“Please, just call me Aemond,” he begged. “Should you not find that too inappropriate. We’ve known each other so long, I hardly think titles are necessary.”

“Titles are everything these days,” you sighed. Aemond had a feeling he knew what you were talking about and his breath caught in his throat.

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard the news. I do wish you every happiness,” he said through gritted teeth. You finally turned to look at him.

“You do?”

“Of course. That is the least you deserve.”

“And what is it that you think I deserve?” You asked. Aemond was hesitant to answer. He didn’t want to reveal his true feeling, both for you and about your betrothal.

“You deserve kindness, loyalty, and honesty. You deserve someone who loves you and only you. Someone handsome and brave,” he trailed off while looking at his hands entwined before him.

“I’ve often found you to be all of those things,” you told him. His eye shot up to your face, only to find you looking at him curiously.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Are you, too, jesting with me, my prince?” You asked, becoming irritated.

“I would never, sweet girl. I just don’t know why you’d grace me with such kind words.”

“Should I not be kind to my husband to be? I do not wish for a stale, loveless marriage. So if that is where we are headed please just tell me now,” you pleaded. Aemond found no hint of deceit in your face and he allowed himself for a moment to feel a sliver of hope.

“My lady, who are you betrothed to?”

“You really don’t know?” You asked.

“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“Aemond, we are to be married,” you said, reaching out to touch his hands. You hesitated slightly but before you could pull back he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him.

“We are to be married?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes, my prince,” you finally smiled at him and he swore he had never been graced with the sight of anything more beautiful.

“Not your prince, your husband,” he said before crashing his lips to yours. You were stunned to say the least, not knowing Aemond harbored such feelings for you.

He held your body flush to his and the rest of the world melted away as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away but you chased him, reconnecting your lips once again. He chuckled and indulged you once more before breaking the kiss.

“How inappropriate of you, my sweet wife,” he smirked.

“You started it!” You gasped playfully. “You know, I feared that you were disappointed when you heard of our betrothal. When Aegon told me you wished to speak to me I hoped for a moment that maybe you were okay with it. But then you dismissed the idea of speaking to me so easily I knew the idea of marrying me would only repulse you more- but now I’m not so sure.”

“I swear to you I didn’t know. I believe my mother wished to tell me at the banquet but after Aegon’s little joke and how I feared I wounded you, I wouldn’t hear her. Aegon knows how I feel for you and he knows how nervous I am around you which he used to his advantage.”

“You have no need to be nervous around me, it is I who has always been nervous around you. You’re so handsome and intimidating, I feared gaining your affection to be nearly impossible,” you sighed.

“Fear no more, wife. My affections have always been yours and they will always be yours alone.”

“You keep calling me ‘wife’ yet I am only just barely your betrothed,” you chuckled. His gaze darkened and he leaned in to kiss you again.

“The title matters not to me; I am yours and you are mine,” he promised before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hands grasped at your ass beneath your gown and your legs grew weak.

“Aemond…” you whimpered.

“Keep that up and I won’t be able to wait until our wedding night to fuck my seed into you,” he growled in your ear.

“Do not tease me, husband,” you whined.

“That’s what you think teasing is, little wife?” He chuckled. “You have no idea what lies ahead then.”

Part Two