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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

hi lovely I was wondering if you could do a fic about a touch starved reader where she’s just really needy and wants to be held but is nervous to ask? and it’s just very fluffy and sweet, thank you so much!!

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Sirius is cozied up between James’ legs on the couch, tuned into his phone while James watches the football match on TV, and you’re oozing a jealousy so tender it hurts.

It’s silly, but you can’t help thinking about how warm they must both be. James has one of his forearms draped over Sirius’ chest, their hands linked casually. Sirius’ bony, pale fingers intertwined with James’ thicker ones. They look comfortable and at ease with each other in a way that feels so out of reach. You wish you could join them, but they look too happy like this. You couldn’t ask them to move.

“Dove?”

You blink, focussing back on Remus. “Sorry?”

“I asked how your meeting went.” A bit of concern digs into the space between his brows as he continues stirring the pot of soup on the stove. You give him a little smile, and it melts away.

“Oh, not bad at all.” Today you had your first team meeting at your new job. You’d been nervous leading up to it, worried your boss would ask you to introduce yourself or present something, but it had blown over smoothly. “I was stressed for nothing, I didn’t even have to talk.”

“Mm, good for you.” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, well aware that your shyness can sometimes get in the way of you sharing your ideas. “I’m glad it went well. I hope you start to feel comfortable enough to talk soon, though.”

“Maybe,” you say agreeably, moving closer to him so you can rest the side of your head on his bicep. It’s an awkward sort of lean, but the most you’ll allow yourself.

You can sense Remus’ confusion even without him making a sound. You know that if you pulled back to look, you’d find a familiar little indent hovering above his nose. “Tired?” he asks.

Your heart gives a pitiful throb. Remus isn’t the most tactile of your boyfriends, but it would take so little for him to reach up with his free hand, wrap it around your shoulders. That’s all you want.

“No,” you reply, though you do sound tired, voice soft and breathy, “just love you.”

“Sweetheart.” His voice is sticky with affection, and your heart balloons with hope. You feel his arm shift underneath you. His hand comes up to hold your cheek, keeping you steady while he presses a brief kiss to the top of your head. The hand falls away. “I love you too.”

It feels ungrateful and a bit traitorous to feel so dejected after hearing those words, but you do. You leave your head where it is, heavy with a loneliness that’s completely invalid, while Remus continues stirring the soup, humming now.

“Look at them.” Sirius’ voice gets your attention from the living room, dripping with faux rancor. He’s glowering at you over the top of the couch. James begrudgingly turns from the match to look at him, half curious what he’s on about. “They’re being all ooey gooey in the kitchen without us, can you believe it?”

You sort of want to laugh at the irony.

“You were given the opportunity to join,” Remus reminds him mildly. “I said I needed help chopping, and only y/n came to my aid.”

“Yes, well I didn’t know there’d be declarations of love involved,” says Sirius, never one to be made to feel guilty.

James, on the other hand, looks a tad penitent.

“I didn’t hear you,” he says helplessly, climbing out from under Sirius. “Do you still need an extra pair of hands?”

“No, almost done now,” Remus says, but James comes anyway. He peers over Remus’ other shoulder, pecking him apologetically on the cheek.

“Smells great,” he notes appreciatively. He leans across Remus to see your face, grinning in that way of his that makes it seem like someone’s brought the sun inside. “Thanks for taking up the mantle.”

You make a quiet sound of amusement, and James’ smile fades. You hate yourself for doing it to him, even though it wasn’t intentional.

“You alright, lovie?” He scrutinizes your expression. You’re reminded that James is often more perceptive than you give him credit for. “You look a bit sad.”

“No, I’m good.” You give him a smile. Remus’ shoulder shifts under your head as he looks down, trying to see you.

James appears unconvinced. He moves behind Remus, over to where you stand. “Hug?” he offers.

God, you feel like you could cry. That wouldn’t be good.

“Sure,” you say, as if it isn’t the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart.

You turn into his arms, and he wastes no time in enveloping you. James gives the best hugs. Somehow, intuitively, he always knows just the amount of pressure you need, when to squeeze your back and when to rub it, exactly the right time to let go. It feels like he’s pouring love into you through his touch. He sets his chin on top of your head, and you swallow a happy sigh.

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” he says quietly. He sweeps a hand up and down your spine, and you shiver, pressing your palms into his back. He does it again. “Talk to me, angel.”

“I’m good,” you promise him. It’s a lot more truthful now.

Still, you can feel James’ dissatisfaction. He cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the baby hairs at your nape. “Anything I can do?”

You clutch him to you, the fabric of his sweatshirt bunching in your hands. It smells like laundry detergent. “Just this, please.”

“Aww,” Sirius croons, and it’s not until then that you realize the other two boys have been silent. Probably worried about you. You feel instantly sheepish. “I get it. You just wanted some love, didn’t you babydoll?” You look at him over James' shoulder, and predictably, he’s insufferably smug. He sees you watching and pats the top of the couch invitingly. “Come here, sweet thing, let me fix you up.”

“I think I’m doing just fine,” James teases, but his grip loosens, one hand remaining on the small of your back as he walks you over to the couch.

“Yeah, but we can share.” Sirius rolls his eyes. He grabs for you the second you’re close enough, hauling you up against him while James flops down on your other side. “What game are you playing, standing over there and looking all forlorn?” he asks you, peppering your cheek with kisses. A startled giggle spurts out of you, but he remains completely serious. “If you wanted a cuddle, all you had to do was ask.”

“It seemed dramatic,” you admit, though now that Sirius has got your face squished in his hand and James’ arm is draped around your shoulder, your silence feels a bit dramatic too. “And kind of needy.”

“Babe.” Sirius is heartbroken, pulling back to give you a horrified look. “Being needy is my thing. I hardly think asking for a hug could challenge my hard-earned reputation.”

“You’re not needy,” you say warmly, but Sirius only rolls his eyes as if you’re being difficult.

“Anyway, wanting a hug is hardly needy,” James chimes in. “I’m always happy to give you one.”

“Same here,” Remus says from the kitchen, sounding a bit apologetic. “Though I wish you would have asked, dove. I can’t read minds like Jamie can.”

Your chest tightens guiltily. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says easily. “Listen, dinner’s almost done, but want to put on a film to watch while we eat? I could make it up to you with a cuddle.”

“That sounds great,” you reply thankfully, and James grabs the remote to begin going through the movies while Sirius gets comfy against the side of the couch. He lifts your legs to drape them over his.

“Good luck getting you away from me,” he murmurs conspiratorially. James chuckles, arm a welcome weight around your shoulders. “I’m not giving you up.”

It seems like there was room for you after all.

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dystopicjumpsuit · 2 months

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Hi DJ! If you’re still doing the ficlet requests, can I get 24 (cuddles of reassurance) with Wolffe? Maybe fem!reader is having a hard time with sex and feels embarrassed/overwhelmed? (If that’s too explicit/uncomy feel free to ignore :))

Just a Little Bit More

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, Alli! I’ve actually been wanting to write a fic like this for a while. I feel like so much of the smut we see in fanfiction AND in published fiction/media in general is so idealized that even when it has elements of realism, it can present a distorted idea of what sex and intimacy can really be like. I’m certainly guilty of writing somewhat idealized smut, though I do try to maintain at least some semblance of realism (unless Sev is involved; all bets are off with that man). While there’s nothing wrong with having that fantasy, I think it’s healthy and important to also show the reality that it isn’t always easy or flawless, even with a caring, experienced partner who takes our pleasure seriously and does everything “right.”

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader (Fem; has hair)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.3K of straight smut with some cuddles

Warnings and tags: cuddles; hurt comfort; language; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; nipple play; light/playful spanking; body worship; sex toys; fingering; exhibitionism; voyeurism; creampie; difficulty with orgasm. AKA, the return of SMUTKEA.

Summary: Wolffe is the best you’ve ever had. That doesn’t mean it’s always perfect.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Fruit de La Créativité by Grès (raspberry & leather)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Wolffe gazed up into your eyes as you rolled your hips slowly, searching for the perfect angle. You knew you could find it: you’d done it before, countless times. His strong, warm hands glided up your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer, thrusting deeper, guiding you closer and closer to your pleasure. You could feel it building inside you, the tension gathering slowly.

Too slowly.

He smoothed one hand up your side, grazing along your rib cage until he cupped your breast, circling your nipple with his thumb. He knew exactly how much pressure you liked, and the way he touched you was perfect.

God, he’s so hot. Just focus on how hot he is.

Sweat glistened on your skin. The room hadn’t been this hot when he’d pulled you into bed, but after an hour and a half of vigorous activity, you were both slick with perspiration, saliva, arousal, and lube. He’d mapped your body with kisses, gliding his lips and tongue across your skin as he devoured you, bringing you right to the edge until you begged him to fuck you.

You’d wrapped your legs around his waist as he eased into you, a tormented groan rumbling from his lips as he felt your heat envelope him. Gods, he felt amazing, and when he started to move, you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before you came.

It took longer than you expected, and after a while, you realized something needed to change.

“Take me from behind,” you’d murmured, knowing how much he loved the way your ass pressed into his hips in that position.

“God, yes,” he’d replied, pulling out and rolling you over with enthusiasm.

You loved the way he handled you in bed. He was so fucking strong. He could toss you around so easily—it was hot as hell, but the best thing about it was the care he took to make sure you were comfortable and he didn’t accidentally hurt you. He lifted your hips up and positioned you exactly the way he wanted you. You heard a small click as he closed the bottle of lube, and then you felt his slickened fingers glide over your cunt as he ensured you were ready to take him from the new angle.

“Maker, that ass is gorgeous,” he said, squeezing your cheeks before giving you a playful smack.

Your mischievous giggle turned into a breathless moan as he sank into you, reaching deeper, stretching you wider, as his hand slid down your body to tease your clit. You loved the way he touched you, the way he caged you in with his body, making you feel incredibly safe and protected. And of course, you loved his cock. He knew exactly how to use it to ensure he gave you as much pleasure as he took—or more.

And still, your orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. He shifted, and for a moment, his body rested heavily on you before he resumed his rhythm.

He’s getting tired. Fuck. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up. I need to give him a break.

“Want me to be on top?” you offered, hoping that yet another angle would be the one that finally pushed you past whatever mental block was keeping you from your release.

He paused, his hands resting on your hips. “Is that what you want?”

“Sure,” you replied. “If you do?”

He trailed his fingers down your spine before slowly withdrawing from your body. You turned to watch as he rolled onto his back and kicked the blankets off the bed. He reached for you with that sexy smirk that you loved so much, and you knew without question that he still wanted you.

He’s such a good man. Gods, he deserves the world.

“Hop on, darlin’,” he invited.

You crawled toward him with a smile, pausing a moment to kneel between his thighs. You traced your fingertips up his legs and over his balls, then ghosted a line up the underside of his cock. You glanced up to see his eyes fixed on you with an intense expression. Holding his gaze, you dropped lower and flicked your tongue over his tip, then slid his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over him. You could taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, unspeakably erotic. His hips flexed beneath you, and you heard his breath grow ragged.

He caressed your head gently, stroking his hand over your hair and jaw before coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he said quietly. “Come up here.”

You gave him one last defiant, flirtatious little suck before you released him, then you began to crawl up to him, kissing a trail up his abdomen and chest. You straddled his hips, kissing and licking your way up his throat, and as you reached his lips, you whispered, “You taste like pussy.”

“Then I must be delicious,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

His tongue slid into your mouth as his cock thrust into your cunt, and for a moment you were overwhelmed with the sensations of him filling you. A fresh wave of arousal had flooded you as you’d pleasured him with your mouth, and he slipped into you easily, rocking into you with his powerful thighs. You braced your fists against the mattress on either side of his head, pressing down to meet his thrusts as you rode him hard and fast, chasing your pleasure with a desperation that started to border on frantic as release continued to elude you.

“Gonna make you come so hard,” he whispered. “And then I’m gonna fill you up. You feel so goddamn good. Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.”

I’m trying, damn it!

“You feel incredible,” you replied breathlessly, and it was true, so why was this so kriffing difficult?

Your hips were starting to get sore from how long you’d been at it, so you shifted positions, bringing your knees higher and setting a slower pace to try to buy yourself enough time that you’d have the energy to make it to the finish line. Wolffe adjusted instantly, not even needing a verbal cue to understand the message your body sent. You found the angle that pressed his cock against the perfect place inside you, and you focused on trying to get as much stimulation there as you possibly could, cutting out all extraneous movement.

The longer it took, the more anxious and desperate you became. You tried to shut down the voice in your head that whispered, “He’s getting bored,” because you knew it was a lie. All you had to do was look into his beautiful, mismatched eyes to see how much he wanted you. And you were so close. So fucking close, if you could just get out of your own head long enough to let go.

You traced your fingertips across his cheekbone and along his jaw, grazing your thumb across his lips. You pressed gently, parting his lips to brush your thumb against his tongue, and then you leaned down and kissed him deeply, trying to lose yourself in the sensation of his lips and tongue against your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as you broke from the kiss and returned your hand to brace against the mattress. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

Please stop talking. You couldn’t say it out loud; what kind of an asshole says something like that in response to a compliment?

“You’re so sexy,” you whispered instead. “You’re amazing at this.”

It was true; he was amazing. Unquestionably the best you’d ever had. In the time you’d been together, he’d learned your body completely, identifying every spot that made you shiver, testing different approaches until he knew exactly how and where you liked to be touched, kissed, caressed. He knew where to use his teeth, and where to use his breath; he knew when you wanted him to be tender, and when you craved roughness.

He knew you.

He knew you better than anyone ever had, and that made your current predicament even more maddening. Because sometimes it was easy. Sometimes you came so fast that your orgasm surprised both of you. But most of the time, it took more work. A lot more. And sometimes, like this one, you would get so close to the edge that you were only seconds away, only to feel the wave of pleasure ebb and be replaced with frustration and exhaustion.

Please, please, please. Just a little bit more.

Your wrists ached. Your knuckles were raw from grinding them into the sheets. You shifted your weight and lifted one hand off the mattress, stretching your fingers and trying to get the blood flowing to them. He glanced at your hand, then back up into your eyes.

“What can I do?” he asked softly.

“Just… keep going,” you said desperately. “I’m so close—I’m so fucking close, and I just can’t—I can’t—”

Abrupt tears stung your eyes, and you buried your face against his neck to hide them, kissing his chest to try to distract him from your distress.

He wrapped his arms around your body, still rocking into you at the pace you’d set. “Do you want to take a break?”

“No, I want you to come,” you snapped, disappointment sharpening your tone more than you intended.

He stilled immediately. You felt his hand slide up your back to stroke your hair softly.

“Hey,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Look at me.”

You shook your head and burrowed your face obstinately into the nook where his neck met his shoulder.

“Talk to me, little one,” he urged. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The dam cracked and then burst.

“I’m so fucking tired,” you sobbed. “And I can tell you’re getting tired, and I just want it to be good for you, and every time I think I’m getting there, I lose it!”

Mortification swept through you that you were making a scene during such an intimate moment, and you tried to stifle your sobs, but it was too late. You felt him go soft inside you, and then he slipped from your body.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”

His arms tightened around you, and he rolled the both of you onto your sides, pulling you close against his body. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Holding you tightly with one arm, he began to run his hand lightly over your back, comforting you with his touch as he kissed your forehead.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated. “You just got tired. It’s all right, love. It happens.”

“It’s so frustrating,” you confessed. “So many times, I thought I was there, and then something would distract me, and it was just gone.”

“Was it something I did?” he asked.

“No, of course not. It was just… I don’t know. A noise? Or a weird thought that popped into my head at a bad time?” You paused, feeling a little guilty as you remembered that, in fact, you had gotten annoyed at an ill-timed remark from him. “And then the longer it took, the more it stressed me out about how long it was taking, until I was stressing so much about it that that’s all I could think about.”

He moved his hand to your shoulder and began to glide it up and down your arm in long, languid strokes. “Why were you worried about taking too long?”

You paused, unaccountably hesitant to admit the truth. He waited patiently, still caressing your arm, until at last you replied, “I was worried you were getting tired. Or bored. Or—I don’t know…”

His hand stilled in its progress, then slid around your back as he pulled you even closer to him. “I would never get bored with you.”

“But—”

“I love you,” he cut you off firmly. “I love being with you. I love fuckin’ you. You’re gorgeous, and sexy, and kriffin’ amazing in the sack. Do you have any idea how lucky I am? Most men only dream of finding a girl like you, but I got you for real. How the hell would I ever be stupid enough to get bored with someone as goddamn perfect as you?”

You didn’t know what to say. You lay in his arms, clinging tightly to him as the tears finally stopped trickling from your eyes. You shuddered quietly.

“Yeah?” you asked in a tiny whisper.

He rolled you onto your back and moved to lie on top of you so he could look into your eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied.

You swallowed. “I love you, too, you know.”

“I know,” he said with a charming smirk.

He pressed his lips to your sternum as his hand slid lazily up your body to play with your breast. The weight of his body pressed you down into the soft mattress as you cradled his chest between your thighs. You took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing the guilt and stress and self-recrimination you’d built up in your body.

He kissed you again, and again, then he began to work his way across your chest until he drew your nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue over your skin as he sucked gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You felt a spark of renewed arousal, but with it came a surge of anxiety that rose insistently in your mind.

“Wolffe,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can. I really am exhausted.”

He looked up at you as he continued to tease your breast. At last, he released your nipple from his lips, giving you a devilish smile.

“What if we tried something else?”

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into an answering smile when he looked at you like that. “What did you have in mind?”

He pushed himself up off of you and leaned over to rummage through your nightstand until he retrieved a vibrator—the one you’d once jokingly called “Old Faithful” for its uncanny ability to get you off like clockwork.

“I want you to fuck yourself with this,” he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

Your breath stuttered to a halt, your eyes widening and your heart beginning to pound at the idea. Your gaze flicked from the toy to his eyes and back again.

“Wh—what about you?” you stammered.

“Don’t you worry about me,” he replied. He switched on the vibrator and traced it down your abdomen, making you twitch as its buzz tickled your skin. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, taking the toy from him. “How do you want me?”

“Whatever way works best for you.”

You thought about trying to pose for him, to put on a show, but you knew instinctively that wasn’t what he was after. If he’d wanted to watch a counterfeit, staged orgasm, he would have just found a holoporn. No. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to see your genuine pleasure.

“All right,” you whispered.

You took the toy from him, and he moved off of your body to lie next to you, observing you closely. You adjusted the settings to your preferred speed and pattern, then took a deep breath and began.

The instant you touched the vibrator to your clit, your entire body tensed, and you gasped quietly. You glanced at Wolffe and found his gaze riveted to your pussy, his one good pupil dilated so wide you could barely see the amber ring of his iris around its inky depths. You felt a little self-conscious until you saw the way his lips parted slightly as his breath became heavy.

You pushed yourself back into the pillow and closed your eyes as you adjusted the angle of the toy, pressing it exactly as you needed it. With your free hand, you began to play with your breast, caressing and squeezing and rolling your nipple between your fingertips. You felt the warmth of his hand as it settled onto your leg and then slid up your thigh. Your opposite leg curled up to brace your foot against the bed, opening your stance wider as you moved the vibrator exactly the way you needed it.

“Fuck,” he rasped hoarsely, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. His fingers grazed lightly over your pussy, but quickly withdrew.

“You can touch me,” you gasped.

He didn’t move immediately, and you continued to work yourself closer and closer to your orgasm, feeling the tension gather in your body and begin to tighten in on your center. Then his fingertips brushed over your cunt again, and you felt his lips and tongue descend on your hip. He didn’t try to take control, just touched you softly, kissing and licking and watching as you played with yourself.

You adjusted your position again, bringing your leg against his body, and you felt his slick, rigid cock press hard against you. You whimpered, so turned on you couldn’t even form words, and in response, he ground his erection against you. He kissed across your pelvis until he reached your belly, pressing his face into you.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

“Kriff, me too,” he growled.

His fingertip grazed into you, and your body jerked as you gasped sharply. He froze, and without thinking, you moved your hand away from your breast to grab his wrist and push him deeper. With an urgent grunt, he began to move his finger, stroking exactly where he knew you needed him.

Abruptly, your hips arched off the bed, and you let out an inhuman wail. If your brain had been functioning, you might have also heard Wolffe’s rough groan, but at the moment, you were aware of nothing but blinding, shattering pleasure as your body finally found the release it had been denied for so many hours. You jerked the vibrator away as the intensity suddenly became too much, and your body convulsed again and again until at last you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent.

Wolffe covered you with frantic kisses, crawling up your body until he reached your face. His body hovered over you as his tongue brushed between your lips and flooded your mouth with his taste. Your arms wrapped around his torso as your legs tightened around his hips, and you pulled him into you. His cock slid easily, and he thrust hard and fast, fucking you through the last tremors of your orgasm.

He came within seconds, flooding you with heat as he thrust hard, one last time, burying his cock as deep as he could inside your body. He stayed there, his entire body taut, until at last he exhaled a hard breath and relaxed onto you. His lips broke away from yours, and he rested his forehead against the pillow next to your head.

“Fuck,” he panted, the word hot against your ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

You stroked your hands up and down his back, digging your nails lightly into his skin. He groaned and slumped heavily against your body. You loved the weight of him on top of you, but before long, you began to wheeze quietly as you struggled to draw breath. He heard the shift and immediately rolled off of you, pulling you against himself as he came to rest on the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his chest.

He laughed quietly. “Thank you. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Worth the wait?” you asked.

“Worth everything,” he murmured, drawing you even closer. “Everything, and more. You always have been.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!Want more Wolffe? Here’s a tiny little fluffy ficlet.

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@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

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#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars #the clone wars #fem reader #x reader #dystopicjumpsuit writes #flashing gif

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Note

"you came so fast, I barely even touched you" holy shit.

I have no idea where the original list of prompts is but I love your request and here I present you a smut fic about Astarion and Tiriel!

Shadows

Synopsis: Astarion dissociates during sex, believing he "owes" sex to Tiriel.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, handjob, NSFW, trauma talk

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel has completely lost herself.

There is nothing in this world but her and Astarion. He’s pinned her to the bed, shut her mouth with his kisses and Tiriel thinks her legs, currently tightly wrapped around his torso, won’t close ever again.

Tiriel grabs a fistful of his curls, making him groan. Astarion pulls away a bit and then pierces her neck with his fangs, causing her to whimper with pain and pleasure.

With every gulp, his thrusts become rougher and harder. He releases her neck and Tiriel smells the iron scent of her own blood.

“Such a delicious little thing,” he growls. “So warm for me.”

Tiriel tries to make eye contact but Astarion turns away. His mind is a thousand miles away.

“Astarion,” she meowls.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he squeezes her wrists harder and rolls his hips.

“Astarion, please,” Tiriel says, but he doesn’t pay attention.

Now it’s not lovemaking, not sex.

Just a mindless fucking, perfect in its performance.

And Tiriel hates every second of this.

“Astarion, let me go!”

He places his palm over her mouth and hushes something pointless in her ear. He speaks of love, passion… He may not mean a word he says.

Tiriel has had enough.

She manages to set her leg free and punches Astarion forcing him to release her at once.

He gasps and moves to the other side of the bed. His cock is still hard and it glistens in the dim light, still coated in precum and her own wetness.

“Did I—Gods!” Astarion covers his face in shame. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s ok, you didn’t hurt me,” She takes his hand in hers. “What happened? You were dissociating again.”He looks at her and then takes a blanket to cover his lower parts, as if embarrassed by his own erection.

Tiriel studies his perfect face and notices he’s avoiding looking at her.

They spent the last two days apart. Tiriel was offered a job—to help a group of adventurers deal with a banshee, and it was clear they wouldn’t tolerate a vampire. So, Astarion agreed to stay in the Inn with his books—and Tiriel promised to return as soon as possible.

Be it the consequences of the fight or something else, Tiriel was coming back to the Inn with only one desire.

She wanted to fuck.

Astarion quickly caught the scent of her arousal and, while joking about her overall appearance (bruises, sweat, a ripped shirt), he undressed her and gave her what she desired most.

“Astarion,” she caresses his knuckles. “You could have just said you weren’t in the mood.”

Now he looks at her. A bitter smile twists his face.

“It’s difficult to say ‘no’ to you, darling” He chuckles. “Didn’t want to disappoint you”

Tiriel grabs his shoulders. “Astarion, don’t be stupid! Do you think I like forcing you to do things you don’t want? You think I… Gods, Astarion, you aren’t an object to be used, not a means to an end. You don’t owe me sex or intimacy or anything! We’ve talked about it!”

Astarion turns his head away. “I had a very bad reverie while you were absent, '' he admits. “Really bad one. I will spare you the details and I don't want to talk about it. I didn’t want you to notice and tried to pretend everything was normal. When it wasn’t.”

Tiriel puts her head on his shoulder.

“Astarion, tell me what you want. But be honest. Please.”

He exhales. “Well… I… definitely can’t finish what we started but my body disagrees.”

Tiriel pulls away the blanket. Astarion’s manhood looks painfully hard. She feels a tugging sensation between her legs but she manages to suppress it. Whatever they are going to do won’t be about her.

“Can you just… Sit in front of me?” he asks.

Tiriel nods. She adjusts herself on a pillow so Astarion can see all of her. She spreads her legs a bit and smiles.

“Come for me, love,” she murmurs watching as he strokes himself.

Astarion maintains eye contact fucking his own hand. Tiriel suspects she doesn’t look seductive or particularly appealing, but she’s learned to love herself as she is. If Astarion finds her attractive and desires her, she shouldn’t care about anything else.

Then, he turns away again. The movements become mechanical—he bites his lower lip and tries to keep performing but Tiriel has known him for too long not to notice.

“Astarion?”

“Fuck!” he unclenches his hand.”I can’t.”

“Do you want me to help?” Tiriel leans to him.

He hesitates but then nods.

Tiriel tugs Astarion to her chest making sure he is comfortable between her legs. She kisses his shoulder and then touches his nipples—his body reacts to her fingers, forcing him to squirm.

“I don’t want to hurt you, I don't want you to feel used. I want you to be loved, to be cared for,” she strokes his cock and Astarion moans.

She has never done it before. Astarion often pleasures her in more than one way; his fingers have been inside her not less than his cock. Meanwhile, her role is almost always a passive one.

Well, unless she rides him—but that’s another story to tell.

She touches the sensitive tip and then proceeds to stroke the shaft, enjoying the sensation of silk-like skin under her fingers.

Astarion squirms, he digs his fingernails into the sheet. Tiriel uses her second hand to caress his balls. She squeezes them a bit and the moment she does it thick strings of cum coat Tiriel’s fingers.

“Fuck!” he gasps.

Tiriel pays little to no attention to the mess he’s made and adores his face. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is half open. There is nothing left from his usual smirk and a composed smile—Astarion is just a mindless vampire right now, drowned in his own pleasure.

“I barely even touched you,” Tiriel playfully says. “And you’ve come so fast.”

His cock is still hard and Tiriel kisses her lover’s lips.

“Please…” he mutters. “Do this… again.”

“Anything for you, love.”

This time Tiriel squeezes him tighter, her movements rough and passionate. Astarion moans and hisses uncontrollably.

“Hells…”

“I love you so much,” Tiriel whispers in his ear. “I am so lucky to have you. Don’t hold yourself. ”

Astarion rolls his hips fucking her hand. By this moment she doesn’t even have to move— she just holds Astarion the same way she holds a sword handle.

“Come for me, love.” She licks the tip of his ear and then carefully bites it. As she feels his skin on her tongue, he clutches at the fabric of the sheets with such force that he tears it.

Then he opens his eyes wide and cums again.

If he was alive, he would pant loudly and his heart would beat like after climbing up the stairs in a tower.

But his body is silent and Tiriel moves a bit to see his face better.

The image doesn’t disappoint her—Astarion is completely flustered, all in her power, vulnerable, and mindless.

Finally, he looks at her. She smiles and puts her coated fingers to her lips and licks the cum.

“Wild girl,” he murmurs and kisses Tiriel, tasting himself.

“Do you want to cuddle?” she asks.

“Do you really have to ask?” Astarion is back to his common self. “Darling, I thought we'd been cuddling longer than we’ve been having sex.”

“Then how do you want to do it?”

Astarion hesitates, then pushes her onto the bed, forcing Tiriel to lie on her back. He then settles his head on her bare lap, hugging her thigh like a pillow.

“I had a reverie about a woman,” he finally says. “She knew I was a vampire and I was her ‘reward” for doing some… job for him. She was a nobility, a rich girl who always got what she wanted—and she wanted me to be her fucktoy for a month. I should have been grateful because for once I didn’t have to flinch at any unexpected sound or be afraid of torture. Instead of rats, I fed on horses and dogs which was much better than my usual diet. I even could read books in her library and, gods, I spent every spare minute there.”

“But the price was to sleep with her?” Tiriel asks.

“Well, the bitch had very interesting views on sex, and any regular intercourse was too boring for her. Besides, she deluded herself that she asked for permission—but I was ordered to agree to anything she suggested. And the bitch was as inventive as perverted.”

Tiriel caresses his scalp waiting for the story to continue. Astarion’s mind is like a hangman’s archive—Tiriel can never guess which disgusting fact she will learn next, but it is always worse than the previous one.

“I was in her bedroom and… she was forcing herself on me. I wanted to strangle her, to rip her throat. Her touches were acid-like. It was… a deep reverie when I wasn’t aware it was a memory. I was sure I was still there. And then… it all faded away. And then you returned with your arousal and your passion.”

Guilt knots in Tiriel’s stomach.

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t. I should have just told you I wasn’t in the mood. You would have stopped, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. Without a doubt.”

He turns around so he can see Tiriel’s face but still uses her thighs as a pillow.

“You are warm,” he mutters.

“And you resemble a big cat.”

“Is it a compliment?”

“Yes.”

Tiriel feels like falling asleep. The last thing she sees is Astarion’s crimson eyes that look at her with awe and tenderness.

Tag list

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dhampling · 4 months

Note

Your fics/headcanons give me the feeling of eating freshly baked cookies with warm milk while wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer. Just so sweet and comforting. Your post the other day about the number of kiddos he'd want got me wondering: how would astarion handle his partner being in labor? I feel like he would be freaking out so badly internally but trying so hard to keep it together for them. Does it get easier with each baby? Does he cry each time? Also, I had this image in my mind of him introducing the older girls to their new baby sister each time and just being sweet and cute with his growing family and I'm dyinngggg. Thank you again so much for all the wonderful fics sorry this message was kinda all over the place I LOVE YOU. ❤️

hello my sweet angel!!! firstly - you inspired me. I'm inspired. i wrote something based on the introducing the siblings idea. see below!

He’s not sure he’ll ever tire of it.

Feign exasperation, absolutely. Roll his eyes in jest, move things along with the smallest ‘away, away’ of his free hand at the faces pressed against the inside of the kitchen window as you both approach the house in a beleaguered stumble - snout noses and wide grins, breath fogging the glass trying to gain a glimpse. Incredulously sigh at the fact that it’s just a baby.

It looks like a baby. Sounds like a baby. Smells like a baby. The house tends to have at least one kicking about at any given time, gods; there’s absolutely nothing unfamiliar nor noteworthy about a baby dhampir in Baldur’s Gate at this point. If anything, he’d be surprised if the townsfolk weren’t banging down his door come morning with a council-endorsed petition to encourage him to stop breeding the little shits.

Frenetic. He’s still practically vibrating with adrenaline from the birth still. Shaky hands stilled under the weight of the baby basket. Legs flying.

Another girl, obviously. Another ‘A’ name conjured from the recesses of his ancient wisdom. Some variation of a label he saw in an apothecary a week ago - you’re past the point of putting too much thought into their names, a fact that becomes obvious to anyone who lends it too much of a thought.

Apothecary. He ponders the viability of that one. Apothecaria? Apothe. Antiseptic. Asbestos. Arugula.

Fuzzy as the door swings open into the night and the stew-warmth of the kitchen bleeds outside. He holds the door, the carrier containing the baby; hospital bags strapped to his back, the weight of another little thing on his conscience. A pack mule. He pulls a face.

The eldest steps from the sitting room through the parted gaggle of waiting Ancuníns and takes a look at the new addition.

A brief moment passes.

Then she smiles as anticipated, nodding her approval - a time-honoured tradition in your household ever since the second was unleashed unto her sister - before falling to the back of the crowd, pulling out a chair for an exhausted you; and resigning from her primary carer duties for the evening.

It’s bittersweet. At this point, Astarion can never be sure if this time, the whole bustling through the doorway in the middle of the night with a newborn thing; will be the last.

But as each previous youngling steps in line to greet the newest addition to their chaotic sisterhood, he finds himself looking over to you fondly. The way your hand still rests atop the round of your belly, the other supporting your head as your elbow rests firm on the table. Cheeks aflush, lids drooping closed with each breath; and yet you sit there instead of retiring straight to bed to watch them.

Their eager faces, hushed whispers; fingers poking and prodding the small exhausted thing presented to them once more. Rolling her name around their mouths to get used to the sound. You watch each movement with a warm heart and dopey grin.

Obviously you want this again. He wants this again. This moment of soft whispers and unfettered love amongst siblings.

No, he resolves;-

this won’t be the end.

i LOVED THAT SO MUCH. THANK YOU.

with regard to the labour:

astarion cries with the first two babies.

after that, he realises it's probably more important to be supportive to his partner at this moment in time.

he can compartmentalise any emotions he's having with the logic that they can wait, honestly.

none of his worst fears are going to materialise, he knows this now. he's done it before.

with the later babies he's a pro.

he even has the nerve to sit there and exclaim at points that he's bored, and that you need to hurry home as he has a client coming to the shop later.

despite both knowing it's a jest, this always earns him a pillow to the face.

THANK YOU NONNIE!!! I LOVE YOU!

#answered #my writing #dadstarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate

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venus616 · 2 years

Note

I- OKAY, THE STREETS FIC DESTROYED ME😭😭😭! Sooo i had this idea where both peter compete who'd get her pregnant.....but ofc there's no way to know cuz they're identical but it's just very very exciting iykwim

(this is first time me requesting it lol, I'm sorry if it's awkward)

Feel free to ignore if you're not comfortable with this tho <3

not awkward at all!! i had fun playing around with this :) i just can’t believe how much y’all are feeling this double peter parker shit omg djjfnfjnjd

the bet (streets ?.?); {tasm!peter parker}

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader (you can interpret this as any peter parker if you so please)

Summary: in addition to this oneshot, this ask and in response to this even hornier ask

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, still dubcon (dubious consent) bc reader is unaware of their intentions, breeding kink, unprotected sex, squirting, oral sex, 18+, NSFW, can this count as kinktober?

Word Count: 4.2k (only smut (LOL))

A/N: okay let's pretend that they decided to live together and that logistically it makes sense… then this is my take on the request

ALSO just to make reading this easy: multiverse!peter is past tense + the shower; husband!peter is present tense + the kitchen counter

previously: streets | the aftermath

Living with two Peter Parkers was not necessarily the dream you’d thought it’d be. Sure, it was really convenient when you needed help around the house and one was busy patrolling, but it seemed like it was of more use to them when they got to have you to themselves a s individuals.

Through this living agreement, your husband didn’t mind you sleeping with his inter-dimensional self, which was only right since he practically begged you to let him stay despite knowing the feelings he had harbored for you.

But what you didn’t realize was how intentional every single time they came in you was, since it was something you never minded, in fact preferred or encouraged.

“But I’m so tired,” Is what you whine out when you turn off the stove, knowing that Peter wouldn’t be able to leave you alone unless he fucked you senseless at least once, or five times, tonight.

You noted to order takeout later instead of cooking since he was so adamant.

You could feel his hardon from behind and his large hands were engulfing your sides. You arch your backside onto his crotch and hear a soft moan escape his lips and know it’s your husband. He was a little more submissive than his counterpart.

Especially compared to how he treated you earlier today, it could only be your Peter peppering your jaw and neck in kisses, rubbing your ass through your sleeping shorts and grinding up against you.

Almost in juxtaposition to how the other Peter had your back pressed against the cold wall of your shower, thrusting hastily inside of you while your legs remained wrapped around his hips and his hands carrying you by your ass. You almost feel bad for how loud you were being from his brute force, only muffled by how your head would dip into his shoulders while your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your body gets hot thinking about it, especially reminiscing the steam of the shower dizzying you first thing in the morning. You were initially alone until you looked through the screen door, seeing a figure of Peter, not knowing which one even when the towel dropped.

You made space for him to get in and stepped back closer to the shower head, faced towards where he’d enter, picking up the soap to lather him in. Once he stepped in, you knew it wasn’t your husband for the lack of tattoo, thankful he didn’t end up getting it after all.

The water began to hit him, and it was a delicious sight that you focused on as the bubbles began to pile up on your hands. Instead of asking for the soap you were about to offer him, Peter got on his knees and pulled your leg to rest on one of his shoulders. Your lips parted, feeling the hot water begin to hit your back from the new position and feeling his mouth ghost your pubic area.

You throw your head back at how his mouth latches onto your core, lapping up your folds while rubbing onto your clit with his other hand. His tongue had already memorized you, running up and down your entrance while your clit rolled underneath his thumb. You reached down to run your fingers through his hair but ended up pulling at it when the pressure on your clit increased.

You’re brought out of your memories when you feel the current Peter trail his hand down your shorts to examine your wetness and play with your clit at the same pace. You’re breathy when you shake out of your distraction and feel his hand play with you.

“Did you hear me?” He asks. You shake your head, turning your head slightly to look at him hanging his head in the crook of your shoulder, still kissing your collar.

“I said,” He chuckles lowly, almost as if he knew what you were thinking about, “but I miss my wife,” He’s high pitched and breathy when he repeats himself, inserting his large fingers, both the index and middle into you making your body curl into him.

Your hand clutches onto his much larger forearm that remains on your stomach, clutching at your flesh to keep you in place and your shirt above the seam of your shorts for easy access. You feel his wedding band and lace your fingers with his all while shuddering at his quick and skilled movements. You bite your lip embarrassed at how quick your pants are.

“I thought you like sharing me,” You rasp out, feeling Peter’s fingers thrust and scissor into you effortlessly. Your wetness coats his fingers easily from the attention he was giving you and the memories of how you started your day.

Peter nibbles on your ear before lowering your shorts further on your hips with his free hand. “Sometimes,” He reminds you.

You let out a soft sigh, liking the honesty.

The possessiveness.

“Other times,” He starts while curling his fingers further into your pussy, the wetness dripping out onto his palms. “I just want you filled up with my cum,” He reminds you, before inserting another finger. You become almost too sensitive and recoil in his grasp, almost tightening your legs around his hands before he stops you.

“And only mine,” He continues, growling in your ear knowing you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him. You struggle to hold it, feeling the familiar tension in the pit of your stomach while Peter’s cock flexes against your back.

“Mhm,” You nod in understanding, being held against his body for dear life only to get you to stop squirming under his touch.

“Cum for me baby,” He exhaled, getting just as impatient as you. You held tightly onto his arms for leverage and clenched around his fingers, feeling more than stretched out for whatever he had in store for you tonight. You feel yourself continuing to pulsate around nothing when he removes his hands and pulls your shorts down, pooling around your ankles.

You step out of them and remove your shirt, revealing yourself to be entirely bare. You arch your back over the counter, feeling especially bold when you lift your knee over the granite to make it easier for him to enter. (Not that he ever had an issue before)

He grins before lowering the waistband of his sweats and raising his t-shirt to reveal his aching cock to line up to your core. He slips in with ease and you moan immediately, encouraging him to go deeper when you lean forward. “Fuck me Peter,” You breath out, with your hands clutching at your counter top.

“Such a filthy mouth,” Peter taunts. You scoff out a humorless laugh when you remember how the other version of himself said the exact thing earlier, it almost felt like deja-vu.

When you recall it, it was when he had first slammed your back against the wall, causing you to curse out in pain and impatience. But in Peter’s defense, at the moment you had the mouth of a sailor. It didn’t help that he entered into you while you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, caused by him eating you out like you were his breakfast.

“You’re so mean to me,” is what you responded with that morning. You shook your head when you said it, pouting a little hoping it would make him feel inclined to go a little softer on you.

Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck desperately, while he rocked his hips from beneath you, still causing your back to grind against the tiles behind you.

Peter leaned into your ear, arms fully flexed from hiking you up to fuck you like there was no tomorrow. You couldn’t help the quick moans escaping your lips at the sight of his body underneath the water. Feeling his cock hit the depths of your pussy each time he thrusted felt like torture, knowing you couldn’t do much in return while in this position.

He continued to moan in your ear before meeting your forehead with his own, making you keep eye contact with him. He smiles before he says it, the shower water turning lukewarm when it hits your sides.

“Only because you make it so easy,” He grunted out before thrusting particularly hard into you. You whimpered, feeling your body jolt from his strength.

The water dripped down both your faces, and you admired his dark glare into yours while the droplets streaked down his hair. You went in for a passionate kiss, clashing onto his face and holding onto his shoulders while he almost bruised your thighs.

You ignored how uncomfortable it was being held against this wall because of the pleasure that came with Peter practically splitting you open. He repeatedly hit your cervix making it harder for you to bite back the screams that would surely be heard by your husband.

“You look so good bouncing on my cock like this,” He praised, detaching himself from your desperate kisses. You nodded, locking eyes with him and ran your hands through his wet chocolate locks.

“Gonna look even better with my cum inside you,” He added before going back in for a kiss, getting sloppier with his thrusts. One of his hands latched onto your breasts, rolling your nipple in between his fingers.

You didn’t pay any mind to it until your husband echos the same thing the other Peter did earlier.

Peter pulls your neck back to his chest while you’re still clutching on the kitchen counter and whispers into your ear, “Gonna have my babies,” he continues.

You’re brought back to reality when your breathing is compromised under his touch. When you inhale a large gasp he lets go so you can lean forward to arch your back, laying your hands flat against the counter.

Peter then holds onto your hips to maneuver you to repeatedly slam onto his pelvis, the loud smacks echoing in the kitchen. If you thought better of it you’d be embarrassed at the idea of his other half walking in on this scene but you then realized that’s probably part of the thrill for Peter at the moment.

“Babies,” You repeat, barely of a sound mind still not understanding why they sound identical today.

“You’re taking me so fucking well,” He grunts out, “I wanna knock you up,” He adds right before sending a sharp smack to your ass. The ring left an imprint on your ass that you’d never get used to. You yelp out a whimper from how it shot sensitivity right up your spine and into your abused core from all the orgasms throughout the day. You swore these boys were fucking with your tolerance at this point.

“Knock me up?” Peter doesn’t miss that it comes out as a question and drags your body to come back up at its previous position by your breasts, massaging the both of them while your back is pressed up his chest again.

Your hands are over his hands, playing, almost teasing your boobs while he questions you in your ears. “Do you wanna have babies with me?”

You’re caught off guard by this. Obviously it was one of the many things you spoke with Peter about before you two got married where you agreed that if the time was right, it would happen. But in the greater scheme of things, it just seemed a little abrupt to bring up. Still, you were so intoxicated off of him all you could do was nod, turning around to meet his eyes lustfully.

“Yeah?” Peter’s eyes lit up, his thrusts getting sloppier when you moan out what is barely a ‘yes’ through a heavy “Uh-huh.”

When you turn back around and close your eyes, all you can see in your head is earlier today when you watched Peter fuck you from the angle he held you in the shower and the string of curses that escaped both your lips when you were close.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, I’m gonna get you pregnant in no time,” Peter muttered so low you almost missed it. You were too distracted to say anything though, mostly because you weren’t necessarily opposed to it when you were being fucked so well.

All you remember is that your breasts felt like putty in his hands, similar to now, and he took advantage of it in this position as they were practically begging for his attention.

He raised you a little higher from his cock and lifted you up from the wall, knowing he didn’t need the support. Peter then slammed you onto his hips, making you throw caution to the wind and yelp out.

“Peter,” You tried moaning out for him to slow down but he doesn’t listen as his teeth latched onto your chest now. You sensitivity was at an all time high now, feeling sharp shots of pain sent through your nervous system when your nipples were being suckled on top of being fucked senseless.

“Let go, let it go for me,” He begged you when he felt the frequency of your clenching pick up. He relished the feeling and started to slow down as your movements stuttered throughout your body on top of him. When you felt his cum shoot into you shortly after, he fucked it into you until you started to feel his cock soften.

Peter eventually relaxed on your tits and looked back up at you inbetween the valley of your breasts apologetically, as if to say that he couldn’t help himself.

He finally let you step back down on your own feet but you could barely stand. He supported you by holding onto your lower back but his fingers found his way to your folds and fingered you. You instinctively flinched from the overstimulation but he forced your legs to stay open.

The cum that ran down your thighs, he managed to fuck back into you through his fingers, but you didn’t note it as he engulfed you in a kiss as soon as you were able to stand up on your own. It was cute to Peter really, you sounded so desperate for him to be gentle, clueless to the entire ploy he and his other self cooked up.

Still unaware while your husband’s pacing starts to get sloppy, the smacks filling the air while your lower stomach feels tense.

“Peter,” You cry. You’ve lost track of the amount of times you’ve been getting fucked in the last week alone, it almost felt like you were in more pain than pleasure.

“I know, just hold on a little,” Peter grunts before thrusting even harder a few more times, “longer,” His voice is getting unsteady, you know he’s close. You try to fuck back again knowing it’s one of his bigger weaknesses, seeing how your ass bounces onto him. Peter felt the force of your ass meeting his hips and looked down, knowing he was a goner.

Seeing the skin of your cheeks ripple off of his and onto his cock so perfectly, while feeling your desperate cunt clench onto him was more than enough. His deep moans praise you while he couldn’t form coherent words, obviously drunk off of your movements.

“Cum in me baby, give it to me,” You rasp out and turn back around to meet his eyes, knowing that would really send him over the edge.

“Fuck,” He says it repeatedly, while he thrusts a few more final times. You can feel his hot cum shoot inside you, cock pulsating in your sensitive core which just makes your knees shake but you remain still, or rather, Peter makes you remain still. He moves himself only slightly, trying not to let too much cum seep out and you shake your head mostly out of exhaustion, but also out of disbelief.

When he fully slips out of you, he repeats Peter’s earlier motions to keep the cum inside of you. You barely have the energy to lift yourself up from the counter and just crave the warmth of your husband.

Eventually you manage, and then you kiss him gently, while he smirks. You pull away, tiredness written all over your confused expression.

“What is it?” You ask, fully turned around to face him.

Peter shakes his head, but what you didn’t know was that he was thinking back to a conversation he had with his other half the other week.

Peter thinks you read his mind, but it’s really because you finally had enough reason to ask as they lack subtlety: “Care to tell me why you and the other Parker have baby fever all of a sudden?”

He only grabs your smaller hand in his, before leading it to your stomach and rubbing it. “Why, you don’t wanna have my baby?” He pouts, obviously deflecting the bigger question.

“Of course I do,” you roll your eyes at the accusation before removing both your hands from your stomach.

“I just want to know why now,” You clarify before sitting at the counter. You feel how sore you are when your hands find their way to your cunt again.

Looking down at how your fingers trace your wet folds, mixed with your cum and his, you ignore how Peter is watching you, cock twitching at the sight of your spread legs and left over sweat trickling on your boobs.

His eyes flickered from the sight of his cum seeping out of your pussy back to your eyes, still figuring out how he should answer.

Peter watches your middle finger graze your clit and how your body reacts to the feeling. He loves how sensitive you are. His cock is already half hard watching how your fingers collected the cum that seeped out of you.

You eventually look up at him and you catch his eyes darken. Round two is about to happen.

“We have a bet,” He lets the words run together on his tongue, before moving the heels of your feet to the edge of the counter.

There’s a couple of things that go through your mind when he says that while he continues to readjust your body.

One being that you’d definitely have to disinfect this counter before you go to bed tonight. Second is the conclusion that you really can’t leave two Peter Parker's alone together for more than 24 hours.

“A bet?”

You know you shouldn’t be as calm as you’re being about this. At least from a rational standpoint. However, none of the decisions made up to this point were rational.

“We love you so much,”

Here he goes, you think,

“We just wanted to see who could get you pregnant first.”

Oh.

When Peter closes the distance between your bodies and kisses your neck you know he has easy access to fuck you. Once his cock is standing against his stomach again he readjusts your legs, one around his waist and another over his shoulder.

It would’ve been more of a pain if you weren’t used to being put in less than comfortable positions for him by now.

You inhale sharply, trying to be mad at him. “Peter,” You try to say as his hands remain on your hips. One of them snakes back down to his cock to realign with your entrance, and he shoots back up an apologetic look to you, reminding you that you were no match for his brown eyes.

Either of them really.

You both hiss when he re-enters you effortlessly but you repeat yourself.

“Peter, you can’t be,” You moan, but try to keep your voice steady. You failed but you weren’t backing down now. “Fucking serious,” You stutter when the curse leaves your mouth, mostly because of having to readjust to his size at this position.

He has a guttural groan that shoots arousal down to your core the moment it hits your ears. “Ungh, I, fuck,” He quickens up his pace, obviously not listening to you. “I know but hear us out,” Peter dips his head into your shoulders, kissing the sensitive spots of your neck as if it would make the situation better.

“Regardless of what happens, we'll take care of you,” He whimpers. His thrusts get sharper when he picks back up his head and your jaws are both slacked at the new pace.

You’re looking at where your bodies meet while Peter is focusing on your flushed out face, motivating him to go faster.

You shut your eyes out of the pain mixing in with pleasure, also frustrated by his attention, biting your bottom lip to stop the flow of curses from flowing out.

Peter studies your reaction and almost feels bad.

Almost.

“You feel so fucking good around me, I can’t help myself,” Peter adds, cooing into your face when his forehead rests yours. You pinch your eyebrows together and shake your head as if to disagree but he only shakes his head with you.

“We can’t help ourselves,” He corrects, panting along with you.

“Pete,” You whine, arms wrapped around his neck as he fucks you on the edge of the counter, and you can feel him reaching so deep into your cervix repeatedly it makes you want to scream.

He notices it and starts pulling out far enough to tease you, just to slam back into you. If he wasn’t careful enough you’d definitely hit your head on the cabinets.

You cry out from his increasing speed and feel your thighs burning up from the snapping of his hips against yours from this angle.

“You’re so fucking good to me,” Peter says, he almost sounds like he’s about to cry when he thrusts into you.

“Good to us,” He adds, still slamming against your sensitive, sopping pussy.

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes when you feel how deep he’s going inside of you, feeling his balls smack against your cunt.

Peter notes how you tighten around him when he says it, and decides to use it against you. He brushes stray hairs behind your ear before continuing.

“You’re our good girl,” His hands find his way to your throat, gently holding it while you try to stay still as his movements only stretch your leg further. He uses his free hand to hold onto one side of your hips

You whimper and nod, knowing he already won.

“I’m your good girl,” You repeat, hardly audible from your lips from how hard it is to speak.

“So fucking good,” He reaffirms and matches his thrust to every syllabus in that statement and you feel like you could almost pass out. You don’t even warn him, immediately cumming around him and mewling out at how abrupt the tension snapped in your stomach.

You look down and realize there was more than cum being released and that a viscous, clear liquid was trickling down the counter and all over his t-shirt, the liquid glistening over his lower abdomen and still hard cock.

“‘M sorry,” You gasp out, “I couldn’t help it,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your chest is heaving from how much energy that took out of you, but Peter was just surprised to see that you were so overstimulated you squirted.

His eyes only light up with mischief before he goes back and inhales you into a kiss. He holds his cock to enter your pussy and his hips stutter at the wet, hot feeling before slowing down. He removes himself off of your lips to grunt into your shoulder, telling you he was close. He quickly shoots a smaller load than before into you.

Seeing you surrender to him, feeling your heat suction around him with no warning, added onto how how fucking hot it was for him to see you squirt onto him? It’s no wonder he came immediately.

He leans in to kiss you again, this time you’re too exhausted to return it with the same passion. Only gently kissing back while his tongue begs for entrance.

Peter reaches down to rub your clit to garner a reaction and you part your lips out of over stimulation, but you immediately reach for him to stop. Your hands lace when you do, before you meet his eyes again.

“Too much.” You shake your head, knowing you didn’t have it in you to say more at the moment.

He grins and chuckles at your fear before listening to your objections.

You pout and furrow your eyebrows before your hands reach down to cover your cunt, closing your legs to tease him.

“Don’t be mean,” You remind him.

“Sorry, baby.” He leans in to kiss you again, without the foreplay and this time you let him in. Only caressing your scalp, to help you lean into the kiss.

Soon after, he swoops you up over the threshold to take you into your bedroom for the night. You yelp out but he covers it up by smothering your face in kisses. You giggle your protests all the way through before you bounce on the shared bed he threw you on.

And while you struggle to believe that either of them thought this bet through, you let Peter cum into you as many times as he wanted to that night.

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inawearyworld · 6 months

Text

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv

shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

god, i love musicals.

(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)

once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship

but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!

part three fic masterlist part five

While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.

Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.

Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.

The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.

We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.

Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)

My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.

He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.

As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.

Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.

Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.

So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.

If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.

So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.

The same could not be said for her.

Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.

With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.

This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.

Did they plan something?

She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.

He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.

All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.

Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.

If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.

Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.

When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.

The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.

Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.

“How did you-”

But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.

“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.

This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.

“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.

“A world of your own-”

“-where you can be free!”

“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”

“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.

“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.

What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.

She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.

The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.

She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.

“Terrible shame what-”

“Florence?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.

Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”

“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.

“Hi, Felix.”

Silence.

Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.

“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.

For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.

“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t move.

She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.

Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.

The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.

“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”

“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”

“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.

Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.

“...My family?”

“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”

…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.

They haven’t-

“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”

“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s the same way for me!”

This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.

“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.

“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”

“I…”

Tears blurred her vision.

“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”

For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.

Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.

She’d lost him.

She’d never truly had him to lose.

But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.

After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.

“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”

What?

Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.

“Wait-wait, no, I-”

“Wren-”

She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-

“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”

“Wren-”

“Let me-”

“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”

“WREN!”

The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.

All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.

They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.

Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.

This is not over.

#fiytwtb #wonka movie #wonka 2023 #wonka #willy wonka x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet #wonka x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader

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perfinn · 7 months

Text

make my wish come true

simon 'ghost' riley x reader (sort of)

wc: 1.9k

summary: you're not certain simon is going to make it home in time for christmas, but a surprise shows up at your door

cw: NSFW, please be aware that while this is x reader, the reader is isa so she has a name and a few descriptions. it doesnt change the fic much, but if this doesn't vibe with u feel free to keep scrolling and dont complain to me about it. anyway, they have sex

this fic is my secret santa (organised by my love @bunnyreaper ) gift for the very lovely isa @alwaysshallow 💛 i hope you love it!!

read on ao3, divider by saradika

A really rational part of you knows that it isn’t easy for Simon to get leave over the holidays. War and terror doesn’t stop for the sake of Christmas, and your boyfriend's work won't stop for your sake, though sometimes the both of you wish it would.

Still, he’s promised you that if he can't make it home, he’ll find time for a facetime, or at the very least a phone call. It’s never quite the same as having him there with you, but you tell yourself it’s better than nothing. If he can't find the time, he’ll force it. Nothing’s gonna keep him from his girl, especially if he can't be right beside you. It's just that… he hasn't responded to any of your texts in the last few hours.

Realistically, it shouldn't worry you. Simon goes out of range all the time, and he can't always warn you. But he does tell you when he’s heading out for missions, whenever he’s able. Sometimes it's classified, but rarely are they so classified he can't tell you it's happening at all. Especially over Christmas.

You chew anxiously on a hangnail as you stare at the unopened message you last sent him. It hasn't even been delivered, infact. He must be really out of range if it hasn't even gone through. Simon always demands you not worry about him, and you try, but you think the season is probably making it harder. All the festive traditions you liked to do with him had been done alone. Decorating the tree and the house, wrapping the presents– which you preferred to do with him since his military precision made him the perfect gift wrapper – all had been done without him by your side. He’d want you not to mope, but he’s not exactly here to stop you.

A knock at the door startles you from your silent lamentations, and you bite back a groan. Carollers? At this hour? Do they seriously have nothing better to do than bother you while you’re mourning for the fact you'll be spending Christmas without your boyfriend?

You lift yourself from the sofa and grab the spray bottle you’d prepared for this exact situation. You storm toward the door with the intent to give them an unwitting shower and a verbal ass-whooping, opening the door and not giving them a second to start singing.

��It’s almost 11 at night! Do you seriously have nothing better–”

“Isa–”

“–to do than bother me?!”

“Isa.”

“I’ll spray you- don't think I won’t–” You cut yourself off when you finally lower the spray bottle and catch sight of who it is at your door.

Christ, it's not carollers. It's him.

“Simon?” You say, taking him in like he might be some sort of sad hallucination you’ve made for yourself. But no, he doesn't disappear when you blink, and he really is wearing that ridiculous santa hat over his balaclava. You don't waste another second staring at him before you're throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him.

He envelops you in his arms, tucking his face in your neck as he holds you just as tightly as you hold him.

“Sorry I wasn't responding to your messages, love,” he mumbles, inhaling deeply like he’s trying to memorise your scent. “No service on the plane.”

You dare to pull away and look up at him, giving him the opportunity to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His eyes crinkle with a smile, and the lines only deepen when your gaze travels up to the santa hat on his head.

“Johnny’s idea,” he says before you can ask. “It’s bloody ridiculous.”

“And yet you’re wearing it,” you say with a fond smile, reaching up to play with the little white pompom on the end. You take his hands and drag him inside, needing to take your reunion inside where it’s warm and private, without the prying eyes of your incurably nosy neighbours.

He closes the door behind himself, reaching up to take the hat off. “He thought you’d find it funny. Very convincing.”

You take the hat from him as he tugs off the balaclava. You’ve found he’s more comfortable with it off, but only around you. He never wants to be Ghost here. Just Simon.

(Except for the times you ask Ghost to fuck you, but those aren’t on his mind right now, or on yours. You only want Simon, and Simon only wants you.)

Once the balaclava is off and Simon is leaning down to kiss, you put the hat back on. He falters, a confused smile tugging at his lips. “You want it on?”

You hum your affirmation, kissing him softly before tugging him toward the couch. “Johnny didn’t suggest mistletoe?”

“He did,” Simon says, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. “Told him I won’t be needing it.”

You grin, laughing softly as you press your lips to his. Simon adjusts you in his lap, warm hands settling on your hips. Sometimes, with Simon, it's hard and fast. Full of heated passion and desperation. But on these days, when he gets home from what can sometimes be months of deployment, it's like this.

Soft, and loving, and slow enough that the both of you can feel every moment of it. One of Simon’s hands trails up your back, tangling itself in the hair at the nape of your neck and urging you closer, deeper, so that he can ease his tongue into your mouth. You part your lips with little prompting, knowing him and his body perfectly by now, knowing what he wants without a word spoken.

He keeps his hand firmly on your nape as he lays you down, refusing to part from your lips until he begins to trail his kisses downward, across your jaw and to the column of your neck.

“You really want me to keep the hat on?”

You suppress a giggle, already shimmying out of your festive themed sweats for him. “Yes,” you say. “Least I deserve after being made to think I’d be spending Christmas alone.”

Simon snorts, trailing his nose down the fabric of your sweater before adjusting himself so he’s situated between your thighs, legs over his shoulders. You’ve truly got him wrapped around your finger– to have Lieutenant Simon Riley be willing to do stupid shit for you, like wear a santa hat while he fucks you, isn't something many people can say they have. Or any people.

Simon tugs off your panties, trailing kisses down your inner thighs and taking you in.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, love,” he murmurs, pressing his tongue to your pussy and licking a long, languid stripe over it. Your mouth drops open with the feeling, your eyes slipping shut before you force them back open– you don't want to miss a second of taking Simon in. God knows how long he’ll be gone the next time.

(You’re lying to yourself if you think you’ll have any control over your body once Simon has you coming on his tongue.)

He turns his attention right to your clit, lapping at it and scraping his teeth gently over it. Every bit of it has you shivering and arching, struggling to keep your eyes on him with every passing second.

Simon, however, is making no attempts to take in the sight of you. He’s lost in the taste of your pussy, and it's evident how much he missed you by how deeply he worships you. He dips down to lap at your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit as he pushes into you, a soft groan rumbling against you.

It's clear how very much you’ve missed him by how you’re squirming, and how you barely have a second to feel your release creeping up on you. Your eyes squeeze shut as you gasp, coming on his tongue like it was punched out of you. Simon groans again, lapping at you until your body un-tenses, leaving you staring up at the ceiling. You feel his mouth leave your pussy with a soft kiss before his face appears in your vision, looking all too smug.

“Miss me, did you?” He teases, pressing a heated kiss to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue, making you moan softly.

“Shut up,” you murmur against his lips. “Course I did.”

He chuckles, pressing a contrastingly chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. “Perfect girl. Okay to keep going?”

You hum your affirmation. Though you’re a bit sensitive still, you don't think you can go another second without the heavy weight of Simon’s cock inside you. He smiles – god, he looks beautiful in the dim light of the tree – and pulls away from your lips, one hand trailing up your body to shove your sweater up over your tits while the other undoes his pants.

You catch the glint in his eyes when he realises you hadn't been wearing a bra, but you don't have a moment to appreciate it before you feel his tip pressing into you. You exhale in a deep moan as he splits you slowly on his cock, your body still accustomed to taking his size even as long as you’ve been apart.

Simon leans down again, pressing his forehead to yours as he buries himself to the hilt, a slow exhale fanning over your face. “Perfect girl,” he says again, voice a strained murmur. You can tell he’s holding back, letting you adjust– but you can't wait any longer.

“Simon, c’mon,” you urge, admittedly sounding pathetic in your desperation. Simon only chuckles, and obliges you.

To be fucked by him again is a dream, the slow and appreciative stroke of his cock inside you better than any holiday gift you’ve ever gotten. He fills you so perfectly, so fully, like the two of you were made for one another.

The hat falls off. It goes tumbling to the floor, and you don't have the sense to care. Your brain is just as full of Simon as your body is. The two of you are so lost in one another as he fucks into you, nothing seems to exist outside of you.

He curses, elbows planted beside your head. “Missed this pussy,” he mumbled. “Thought of her every day.”

Your cheeks warm as he grows a bit faster, more erratic– but Simon has nothing if not self control. So he holds back on his own release, instead reaching down to toy with your clit. You moan, breath pulled from your lungs as your oversensitive nerves bring you right to the edge of another orgasm.

Simon draws it out of you nice and slow this time, though, so you feel it wash over you in slow waves, rather than it hitting you like a tonne of bricks. He presses wet kisses to your throat as he does, his breath faltering at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around his cock.

He fucks you through it, and only when you fall still and get a bit whiney from the overstimulation does he come himself. He groans low and heavy, burying himself in you and pressing his body close to yours. He spills inside you, catching your lips in an admittedly sloppy kiss. When he finally stops coming– christ, did he not come his entire deployment? – he settles himself on top of you, cock softening inside of you.

You both pants, bask in one another. Your hand finds Simon’s cropped hair, fingers carding through it as his hands find your dark strands.

“How long are you home for?” You ask, hoping you haven't ruined the mood with the question.

“Until January,” he tells you, and you smile. You press a kiss to his hair, sighing in content and letting your eyes wander to the twinkling tree in the corner.

#wrote most of this in a midnight haze #enjoy #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #my work #smut #simon ghost riley #cod

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regalbootie · 2 years

Note

Ok first thing first, I die each time you upload! Your a great writer, like damn it’s god send! I truly wanted to ask for this. (Smut) Larissa and the reader have been married for some years, and for the first time Larissa wanted to try something new in their sex life! Staying in her true form and only changing her female sex for male genitalia. The reader allows it and Larissa shapeshifts her form and basically pounds the reader on the bed, while cumming inside her women one after another and groaning and moaning because of the pleasure. At the end Larissa is being a tired lump on top of reader, tells a joke about how she can see the appeal in having a cock and claiming her women.

Trying something new in the bedroom

THIS IS 18+ MINORS GO AWAY.

I love this request, ngl did struggle to write it cos I ain't got a peen so unsure of what it all feels like so I tried my best!

There will be a part 2 as I wanted to post this cos I got too excited, lol.

Lariss weems x reader fic

WARNING: Shapeshifter penis, dominance

You were so thankful it was finally the Christmas holidays, all the students were home or with friends for the holidays which meant all the staff could do whatever they pleased for the holiday break.

You and Larissa planned a short getaway to a little secluded cabin in the wilderness so you both could relax and have some privacy. No phones, no laptops and no work.

That was the promise you both made so you both could focus on one another. Work had been hectic, with Larissa running Nevermore and yourself getting students ready for exam season, you both had not had much time for each other.

So there you were watching the snow slowly fall to the ground as you took in the winter wonderland around the car. The radio playing soft music as Larissa’s hand that rested on your thigh tapped to the rhythm of the song.

You bit your lip smiling as she sang along to the god awful Christmas song while focusing on the road. Smiling to yourself at how lucky you were to have her and to love everyday.

It wasn’t much longer till the cabin was in sight, it was small but that’s all you and Larissa needed. Grabbing the bags and rushing in from the cold you were quick to get the fire rolling. It didn’t take long for the cabin to heat up with the roaring fire seeping warmth into the cold cabin.

Admiring your fire you started, you felt two hands wrap around you from behind and you hummed with happiness at her touch. A glass of wine was presented to you which was gladly accepted. Taking a small sip and swaying your body as you held this moment in your mind to remember forever.

You and Larissa finally at peace with no disruptions or distractions. You both stayed there for a while, content being in one another’s arms, until you turned so you could face her.

Small smiles gracing both of your faces, with your free hand you cupped her cheek, “I love you so much, my darling wife”

“I love you too, my darling wife” The wedding was 2 months ago, but the honeymoon was delayed with work getting in the way. Larissa leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. You could taste the wine of her and moan.

Knowing what this did to her it was no surprise when Larissa’s grip tightened on your body and swiped her tongue against your bottom lip asking for entry.

How could you deny her she had you in a puddle of mess just with a kiss. Opening your mouth for her, the kiss deepened, her tongue mixing with yours in a dance you knew well.

Larissa’s hands gripped tight on your hips and started to guide you to the bedroom, she couldn’t wait she had this idea of something new to bring to the bedroom something that she had never tried before.

Pushing you onto the bed a giggle escaped “oh what will you do to me, mistress?” you purred as you moved back farther onto the bed.

“I’m going to fuck you senses, my pet. Now strip” doing as you were told as fast as you could throwing your top and jeans over your shoulder. You start taking your underwear off but feel a strong warm had stop you.

“not just yet little one” you were so focused on undressing that you didn’t notice Larissa stripping down to just her panties, biting your lip she moved to lay over you laying kisses over your body making you squirm and gasp when she left a nip. “God you are so beautiful” she worshiped your body giving into the tender moment for just a little bit.

“Yesssssss” You hissed as she sucked on your pulse point, hearing you it turned into a lust filled bite. She pulled back looking you in the eyes “are you ready for this?” arching a eyebrow.

All you could do was nod and that was all it took.

Pushing your bra down roughly she took an exposed nipple into her mouth nipping and then soothing it with a lick. Your legs come to wrap around her pulling her closer. “please mistress” moaning loudly now that you had no student neighbours in the halls of nevermore nearby.

Growling Larissa ripped the bra off and was much more ferocious making your eyes roll back and moaning louder, her hands held you down by the hip and she grinded against your core your wetness already soaking making you ready for her so quickly. You would be embarrassed by this if it wasn’t for the attention she was giving your nipples, pinching them and nipping. She grinded again against you.

Your body stiffened when you felt something different and pulled back a little bit. “what was that?”

Grinning Larissa moved off your body to stand before you, she had a bulge in her panties and you gasped, you had never asked about this. You were 100% sure on the ins and outs of shapeshifters but shifting genitalia was not something you had thought of before.

“I wanted to try something new, why should mistress not get to feel her little slut cum over her cock, I want to feel you cum around more than just my fingers”

Slipping her panties off you could see her stand to attention already. Where there should be a wet dripping pussy there was a long, big and thick shaft.

You did not like guys or their penises but Larissa’s was beautiful. She grabbed you by your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to fill you up and fill every inch of you, pet. I know you’ll like it. Your panties have gotten 5 shades darker since you’ve seen it”

She slid her tip through your folds making your head fall back with a gasp. Larissa couldn’t hold back a moan at the sensation, it was amazing just to feel your wet pussy on her tip.

Making sure she was well coated she looked to you for confirmation to continue, knowing this was new and that you were ready for it.

Leaning up you captured her lips in a kiss a hand trailing down to take her in your hand and line her to your entrance. “fuck me mistress” whispering into her ear as you pulled her back into a deep and passionate kiss.

Hips moving slowly forward the kiss broke and whimpers escaped both of you at the same time. Larissa felt like she could already burst as she felt the tight warmth wrap around her and all you could do was fall back onto the bed arching.

Larissa started slowly, nervous if she let go she would hurt you. You needed her right now though, you needed it hard and fast filling you up every inch.

Grinning you wrapped your legs around her hips pulling her harshly forward making you take the full length of her. “fuck me hard and fuck me fast”

“Anything for my good girl” smirking Larissa drew all the way back and slammed back in. Making you cry out and grip the bed sheets.

Her pace was hard and fast the feeling of you around her was intoxicating. “good girl, good girl” she chanted, her free hand moving to hold your throat and the other to play with your clit.

Your pussy clenched and it only spurred Larissa further “you like my big cock don’t you, you will beg to let me fuck you like this won’t you”

“YES MISTRESS YES! I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME LIKE THIS FOREVER” you were so close already and the sensations were overwhelming.

“Im so close mistress please let me cum on your cock” begging like the good girl you were for your mistress. Larissa knew she wasn’t going to last much longer and she wanted to cum with you to feel it.

“cum for me darling” her breath was laboured and gasping but her gasps where cut short when you came screaming her name as you clenched around her and all Larissa could was keep pounding as the orgasm hit her.

“oh my fucking god oh my fucking god, I’m going to cum in you my little slut” Larissa screamed with you as she thrusted deeper.

“please mistress cum in me” the dam broke and Larissa bit down hard on your shoulder as her whole body convulsed as she came hard making you orgasm a second time. You and her didn't expect anything to come out but were surprised when she felt the rush of a hot liquid fill you up, and all you could do was love the feeling.

Her pace was relentless and rougher as she drew out both her own orgasm and yours. Sweat dripping off both your bodies.

Slowing down she slowly pulled out and you hissed a little from the sensation, you knew you were barely going to be able to walk tomorrow but you didn’t care because Larissa threw your body around and slapped your ass hard.

“I’m not done with you yet, get on all fours” being the ever obedient lover you did so without hesitation. Feeling the bed dip and the new familiar feeling of her tip at your entrance you rocked your hips back to have her slide back into you.

This only earned you a hard spank to the ass, “did I say you could move slut”

you grinned and made a loud moaning and whimpering noise. “ But you feel so good mistress”

#larissa weems x reader #larissa x you #fanfic #larissa weems #principal weems #larrisa weems #smut #fanfiction

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janovavalen · 7 months

Text

—goddamn! ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

aegon II targaryen x niece!reader

ㆍ୨୧ㆍshort story au

—part one — two — three — coming soon

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ summary: the two of aegon and y/n never got along. never—all until aegon catches the oh so wonderful, sweetheart y/n targaryen at a club.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍword count! 4138

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ warnings! drugs (cocaine, alcohol, weed) typical targaryen incest, small obsessive/obsession if you squint, smut, arranged marriage

fix idea from this tt edit <3

this fic will not follow the story line/plot of HOD! although i made up this au, i do not own house of dragon nor do i own the series, books, and characters! all rights go to HBO.

the night was brisk, dark and foggy. but the club was warm, stuffy and loud. aegon and aemond who had been dragged along to a environment he would have never stepped foot into was crowded by the large crowd of drunk and high dancers.

this, this was aegons environment. the fact nobody gave a fuck about what they did and who saw. openly doing drugs, openly fucking in the darkened corners of the room.

drug dealers and their buyers trading in the dance floor or even at the bar itself which wa not shunned upon. here, everyone was who they wanted to be from their shitty roles and life and jobs. free to be openly horny, high and drunk.

‘i wish to leave…desperately.’ aemond tightens his hands around each other as he looked at the the people as he groaned in disgust.

‘loosen up little brother we’ve just arrived. go fuck a whore maybe you’ll loosen up a bit in the body and mind’ aegon smirked while he walked to the bar and made his eyes dance over the females who smiled and blushed at him. flattering their way not only to his pockets but what’s behind his pants.

licking his bottom lips as he perched his forearms along the dark black counter of the bar. the bartender behind it was a woman who wore a skintight red dress and dark makeup with blonde hair that's curly and messy.

‘hi darling what would you like?’ she asked. her voice is smooth and sweet.

‘give me the strongest you got baby, make it cold, okay?’ he tilted his head a bit with a pinned up eyebrow and a small smile. she smiled back and nodded slowly while turning around, making sure she pressed her butt.

he noticed of course. he was a man who noticed any and everything a female tried and would offer him. their body, their mind, their purity. he wasn’t one to ask for it more of received it when they put forth into it. giving up everything they believed to fulfill the overbearing lust.

he did the same. with lust, alcohol, sometimes drugs even but he never gave a second thought about it because who really would when they’re happy with what they’re doing.

happy, to get away from possibilities, family, emotions that they don’t even understand.

a little later, the woman placed down the drink, the coldness of it dripping from her hands that extracted from the cup being gripped behind her pale hands and colorful fingernails painted the rainbow.

‘thanks love—what’s your name by the way?’ he asked as she blushed and pushed herself against the bar she stood behind with a smile.

‘amy, what about yours handsome?’

‘aegon…what you doing working in a place like this, huh? a beautiful woman like you should be in the most fine establishment, taking the orders of high class woman and men and getting tipped fabulously not by lowlifes who only seem to have money for drugs and beer’

her smile started to show more prominent as the brush on her face rose. tucking the hair behind her pierced ear—‘is that what you are then? huh?’

he simple shrugged before going jack to his brother who was suffering the sweet talks of a drunken woman with dark hair.

‘ah look my brother is growing up, speaking to your first woman huh?’ aegon wrapped his arm around aemond’s shoulder who stiffened his stature and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes in our torture.

‘i’m leaving—‘

‘no no no! don’t leave, stay here. be present, have fun. get drunk—forget about the family for a while—‘

‘if that’s what you do and if my outcome of this will lead to how you are now i don’t want that. sorry but i want to leave with or without you.’

aegon felt his jaw clutch at the fact aemond wasn’t giving up at all. his grip on his brothers neck tightened—‘shut the fuck up and sit here like a little pussy then. leave and you’ll regret it terribly.’ aegon let go of aemond who looked at his brother with frowned eyebrows.

aegon felt slight anger take over him and he rolled his eyes before taking a long sip of his cold drink that began to melt from the heat of the room.

the song of the night changed as his danced his eyes to focus on the dancing crowd of the room who held people freely dancing rather it was shirtless, pantless or even naked—the very moment the music got louder was the exact moment he saw the pure white hair in the crowd.

the white hair only shared in his family—her hair could have been dyed but…nobody would want the hair color of a targaryen.

his eyes stayed glued to the female who let her arms rise just above her head as if she were touching the clouds above, her waist moving slowly as he looked up and down her frame.

the back of her was slowly turning to reveal herself and her face to him. she was wearing a short black skirt with torn stockings, heeled boots and white bottom down work shirt that a man would wear that was dressed over with a long oversized leather jacket.

when her face, he immediately recognized her. the daughter of his eldest sister. y/n targaryen.

almost letting his jaw drop to the dusted floor he slowly walked over to aemond who was sitting there against his will—‘isn’t that our niece? y/n targaryen?’ aegon pointed with his pointer finger that held a thick gold ring around it as he let half of his face hide behind the glass cup.

aemond immediately looked up and went to search for the self claimed y/n. nonetheless he found her and was immediately transfixed. how could she even be here? why was she here? especially dressed like that. if their sister saw her like this she would have a heart attack.

aemond nodded his head and aegon laughed as if the most ground breaking joke had been told in the history of forever.

‘but how? how is she even here right now? i thought daemon had the house guarded and locked down just for her to stay in and never leave’ aegon asked once he was able to or speak properly.

‘i’ve…heard they let her have a home for herself since she requested more privacy. more guards but not as many lock devices as they thought. she must have been able to break some.’ aemond still watched her as she smoked the center of the dance floor with the smoke coming from her glossy, plumped lips.

aegon felt his pants harden. he was never going to admit this fact as of right now but he was going to go over. there was no way in hell he would get cover this image of y/n over in his mind like he did with the whores he fucked recklessly.

sipping the rest of his drink with a large gulp and slapping it down onto the table next to aemond who was shaken out of his trance, aegon ruffled his hair with his thin fingers and fixed himself up.

aemond seeing him as he did this looked him up and down in pure fright—‘what…where are you going? what are you doing?’

‘making my way over to the lady. what else am i to do?’

aemond stood up and made sure his height peeked now.

‘you can’t. deamon and rhaenyra have permanently permitted and even mother have forbid you to ever speak to her…if you talk to her and anything happens you could ruin everything—‘

‘that’s why it’s exciting. and that’s exactly why i’m going to do it right now.’ pushing his shoulder against aemond who closed his eye and inhaled sharply he was readying himself for the future as he turned around to watch the scene itself unfold.

as argon made his way over to y/n who was completely on a different planet in her mind, he took a long drag of someone’s blunt as they didn’t mind. holding it in then breathing out he finally spelled into her world.

her eyes were softly shut. the black makeup around her eyes being prominent and her scent of weed, booz and perfume filled his lungs.

looking down at her body as she turned around she felt the hard chest of a man and opened her eyes to see aegon looking down at her with darkened eyes.

though they were blue, she was still able to see the darkness they held behind them.

her eyebrows frowned as if the her in her mind was leaving the planet she was once on and back to earth. aegon softly smiled at this and she let her jaw slightly open after slightly gulping.

‘my beautiful, beautiful, niece. what a surprise’ he joked as she looked up at him in sheer fright.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

walking into the bathroom as she stumbled over the invisible strings in front of her, y/n forced her way around the woman who were hurryingly getting ready, smoking and taking up their last drugs of the night. she pushed open the stall door and gripped the walls as her breath quickened.

she felt her head pounding at the image of aegon even being here at the same time as she was. this wouldn’t mean anything but to her this was so dangerous. her uncle—her moms brother seeing her here of all places on earth, especially somewhere she wasn’t even supposed to know about.

her stomach started to bubble as she felt her spit grow warm. groaning and throwing her head back to calm herself down with deep breaths she felt the feeling slowly subtracting and drafting away. the acid in her stomach going back calm.

‘fuck…fuck! anybody got a fucking cigarette?’ she yelled as a girl next to her in the stall swiftly slid her hand under the wall—‘here baby!’ she yelled.

looking down, y/n grabbed it in a hurry and took a long drag of it. the feeling rushing over the anxiety and pressure she was once feeling with calmness. breathing it out she smiled a bit with closed eyes as she lowered her legs to give it back.

‘thank you’ she said while the girl voiced back—‘no problem. hey you okay? i heard you cursing at the toilet’ she joked while smoking the cigarette she was given back.

‘uh, kinda. someone who isn’t supposed too even know im here just fucking made himself known. my parents are going to strip me of my hair and skin and hang it on the wall…fuck.’ y/n felt the nervousness wash back over.

y/n was now sitting on the bathroom floor with her legs pulled against her chest as she gripped her head from the headache that was building up.

as if the woman knew what she needed she passed the cigarette back over from under the stall as y/n took it.

‘ah that’s why i always move from place to place. i know how that feels. i moved a while ago. trust me honey, the best decision i've ever made, my parents don’t tell me what to do anymore.’ she explained while y/n took a drag of the cigarette and passed it back.

‘damn…how’d you even leave? i’m so scared of leaving i don’t even know anymore.’ looking up at the colorful ceiling, y/n thought of her parents the the life she was born into.

‘just…up and left i guess. stole a couple of bucks, packed what i had in my closet in one suitcase and a bag on my shoulder and made my way here. grew up on the streets but got money from working here.’ she told while y/n listened.

humming back the girl finished the cigarette and looked over at the stall all then down at the floor to see y/n’s half body sitting down.

‘hey come out i might have something you need, to loosen up’

y/n looked over and heard the heels of the girl walking out of the stall. getting up herself and opening the door to see a brown haired girl with red lipstick, black crop top and glittery skirt with black heels.

y/n nervously looked down before smiling a bit.

the girl moved over to y/n and soothed her hair as y/n looked herself in the mirror.

‘your a targaryen huh?’ the woman asked. y/n grew nervous at the fact she new what last name she shared be the woman eased her tension with a simple smile.

reaching into her bag and pulling out bag that held white powder, y/n immediately knew what it was and walked next to the woman who evened it out on the counter with her card.

‘it’ll make you see shit, laugh and get a little horny but it’s so worth it i promise’ she told while leaving y/n face to face with three evened out lines of powder in her face.

‘okay…okay fuck it’ y/n shook her hands and immediately grabbed the rolled dollar from the woman who went with the line on her finger.

closing her eyes and sniffing the line straight—first, second then third.

whipping herself back up with closed eyes she breathed out—‘i said goddamn!…goddamn.’ she sniffed as the substance went further up into her mind. breathing out a bit as she reached forward to press on the water a bit, she placed some on her finger and whipped the remnant off her nose.

sniffing once more before rubbing her nose with her hand she looked herself into the mirror and smiled a bit at the pure fact that she didn’t recognize herself.

fixing her hair and tossing it behind her back. the woman looked at her with admiration before giving her a kiss on the cheek—‘good luck babe, see you soon i hope?’ she said, while walking out.

y/n smiled and looked back into the mirror to let the drug itself take over.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

just outside the bathroom stood aegon who was looking all over the club for y/n who had stumbled her way through the crowd and away from him before he could even stop her.

finally her white hair peeked through the crowd that huddled near the bathroom. fixing his once hunched stature he straightened as she walked to him. her face looked much more different than before. more, pleasured. not as horrified.

when’s she made toe to toe with him through their shoes, she looked him up with her eyes but not her full face, giving the white part of her eyes more room than its actual color.

‘why are you here?’ she simple asked, pushing the conversation to its start. the forwardness definitely coming from daemon.

‘same as you just want to run and forgetting’ he simply and truthfully answered. a little taken back at her boldness but nevertheless replied.

‘hm. so you weren’t sent by one of my parents nor one of your own?’

‘fuck no. if i were to you think id be holding this drink whilst talking to you? i’d be cut in half before i would be able to speak hello as before’ aegon told as she looked him up and down.

‘if your so as lying to me i will have you killed in your sleep—‘

‘oh i know princess…don’t let my presence ruin your night of fun. i just hoped to be able to enjoy it with you’

to put it simply he wanted to stay by her side the whole time. even if she weren’t to speak to him or so even look at him he would be satisfied enough to stand in her atmosphere.

‘oh so you want to follow me around like a lost puppy with your tail between your legs, huh? is that it?’ she asked while pushing her body against his own.

his jeans becoming more tight around his practically choking cock. he grinned down at her while letting his hand travel up her face and to her jaw. his fingers then inching it to her bottom lip and letting his thumb press its way into her mouth which she allowed.

he let himself groan a bit as she suckled it like a babe on its mothers tit. his hips now flushed against her own she rubbed herself against him as he closed his eyes. she knew the fact that his lust was overcoming him.

which was why it prompted her to push herself away and let her lips slowly retract from his thumb. he opens his eyes in a slight haze as she smiled up at him.

he finger going over his lips—‘you a bad little boy huh? letting your niece, the daughter of your sister…betrothed to another, suckle your thumb in the middle of a club surrounded by drugs, sex and drunks. how would your mother think of you as of now—‘

‘i don’t give a fuck how she thinks of me…how about you be a good niece and let your uncle fuck you behind this club and take you come to force my cock into your pussy…how dose that sound? huh?’ he forced his hand around her neck while their lips were inches apart from touching each other as she let them slowly open.

her heat below becoming wet and practically soaking her panties.

‘fuck…’ she whispered as he smiled against her lips. she looked between his eyes and lips before pressing her own against his. the lust controlling her every fiber in her body.

aegon grabbed the sides of her face as her own half his wrists. his lips hungrily kissed her own as she moaned into his mouth. he’s kissed plenty of women, but never has any of them held just as much hunger in their kisses as he did and been able to match and mold against his own.

he groaned and sloppily kissed her as she let her body press against his once more before he forced himself to pull away.

‘we have to go—we go to my house, where i’ll fuck you’

‘yes…please’ she begged as he kissed her once more.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived into his large home—they were complete strangers keeping their hands off one another. his hands roamed over her body, face, waist and ass as her own pushed themselves against his stomach, neck and chest.

she moaned and he did too as she ripped his silk shirt open and let it down to the floor, the buttons on it clicking against the marble floors. he let her slip off her own shirt as

he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as she was holding his shoulders and neck with her arms that were completely bare.

his hands placed under her thighs as he gripped them. walking the both of them over to his bedroom and kicking the door open.

he slowly placed her onto the bed where her back touched the top of his dark green silk sheets her legs stayed wrapped around his own.

lucky for him this was his home where aemond definitely did not want to share. aemond stated the fact he didn’t want whores in the house every other night and or a party going on. he stayed with their parents and sister, helaena.

y/n thrusted her hips up into aegons growing cock as he groaned into her mouth and stuck his tongue into her mouth to flush against her own. when he slowly retracted she suckled down onto his bottom lip letting it slowly stretch before she let go.

‘you know how to please a man…my sweet, innocent y/n’ he whispered as she whined. her hips moving to his to try and ease the pressure that was threatening to spill from her.

‘sh…don’t worry—i’ll give you exactly what you need. what you thirst for.’ kissing her lips as he then kissed her chip, breast and slowly making his way down to her heat she watched him as his eyes kept trace to her own.

‘soaking’ he was in sheer awe as we was face to her pussy that clutched around nothing.

placing his lips upon it, he kissed her pearl before letting his mouth completely consume her.

‘ah—fuck’ y/n moaned as he stuck his tounge into her. making her hands down to grip his white messy hair, he moaned as she pulled it, his eyes watched her and threatening to close of pleasure.

he hated to admit the fact that only this would be able to make him soak his pants with cum without even being touched. her body, taste and noises were enough to get him off. her hands that gripped his hair and would occasionally sooth it.

y/n’s thighs were now wrapped around his head as he let his eyes roll back along with her own as she felt her peak rising to the surface.

‘i’m cumming…i’m going to cum all over your fucking face’ she mumbled while thrusting her hips into him.

he let one of his fingers enter her body as she moaned out loudly, causing him to almost cum right then and there.

‘cum for me baby…cum for me please’ he practically was dying for it. she gave him what he wished for and her legs shook as they released his head.

‘fuck!’ she yelled while he let his mouth suckle her throbbing pussy.

‘shit—you soaked me’ he smiled as he looked up at her as he looked back down at him and weakly smiled. he kissed her sensitive bud making her jump a bit as he kissed his way back to her lips.

she completely enclosed his moths and kissed him hungrily, tasting herself on his lips.

‘i want you to fuck me—please? please…i need it’ she begged. her legs wrapping back around his waist to push him forward to where his hard cock was pushed against her.

‘you really want that?’

‘yes—‘

‘are you able to keep up?’

‘fuck yes’ she smiled as he kissed her. she kissed him back and let him work his way down to his pants to unbuckle himself and let his aching cock pull out of its enclosure.

‘i’m going to go slow…okay?’ she nodded her head as she looked down at his cock that he lined up to her entrance.

the slowness was killing the both of them but was needed for the comfort of the moment. once it was in, y/n closed her eyes and let her upper body press itself against his chest. husband making its way under her to hold it there as he kept his eyes trained in her face.

his eyebrows frowning from pure pleasure as she opened her eyes and focused on him.

he moved painfully slow. but the more he molded his way around her walls the rougher and harder he got.

‘shit’ he groaned while she frowned her own eyebrows.

‘faster…go faster—‘ as she said this; he did just that.

his hips becoming in contact with her own as he becomes more messy and sloppy in his movements. her nails scratching at his back to create her own mark. he loved this. he loved the fact he could practically feel blood dripping down his back from her sharpened nails digging into his back.

he loved that her hair was messily stuck to her face as it’s long locks spread around his bed.

he loved her legs that crossed around his back as her ankles locked to make sure that she wouldn’t lose grip.

his arms almost giving out as he feels himself coming to his release, he let his thrust become harder as aegon placed his head against her shoulder and neck, biting down onto her shoulder.

‘i’m cumming—where do you—‘

‘in me! fuck…fucking come in me—treat me like a whore you find the street and breed me with your children’

his mouth opened as he felt pure euphoria with her words—‘you want my babies? to be swol and filled with my seed, as you grow—‘

‘yes! yes! please—‘ he then gave one last thrust before spilling into her with his body falling against her own as she held him tightly, the both of them finishing their moments.

she soothed her nails up and down his back as he felt himself grow drowsy.

after a bit he finally pushed himself off and and layed next to her as she turned her body, placing a leg over his lower second and massaging her hand up and down his chest.

the both of them forgetting the fact that this every moment could cause either war, or new blood for their family and themselves.

lost in the moment and completely forgetting who they are and what their families can and will do.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house of dragons #short story au ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

134 notes · View notes

satans-helper · 9 months

Text

Scream for Me

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Jake Kiszka

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: smut!! [kind of a variation of a fear kink? Praise, dirty talking, non-penetrative sex] 18+ only!

A/N: In honor of continuing my Halloween season slash fics, I present to you Danny getting turned on when Jake gets scared. Hope you enjoy ;)

P.S. I'm posting this quite early in the month since I'm very much in the spirit AND I have a Danny x Josh fic and a Danny x Sam fic coming later, both Halloween-themed <3

---

Danny couldn’t believe the theme of the haunted hayride, which Jake had neglected to tell him about prior to buying tickets. Not that knowing it would have stopped him, it was just, as he relayed to Jake, “so 2016.” “The Year of the Clown” was long gone as far as he was concerned, and the thought of being preyed upon by guys dressed up in rainbow suits and copious amounts of makeup just sounded like a variation of playing a show. Jake, on the other hand, was brimming with nervous energy as he made the decision to knowingly torment himself.

“Aw, Jakey,” Danny said with genuine concern, wrapping his arm around him. They were stuck waiting in line for what felt like ages already, the night air feeling exceptionally chilly while being trapped in such a wide open space. It was nice to see the stars so vividly, Danny thought as he looked up, and the moon, which was a shockingly bright globe in the obsidian sky. The perfect kind of spooky October night.

“I’m just cold,” Jake replied, but Danny knew the slight tremors his body kept going through were more than from just the autumnal chill. He leaned into Danny’s touch all the same, snuggling against the denim jacket that was keeping Danny perfectly comfortable.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Danny assured him, his gaze wandering over to the few stands of treats, the scent of fryer oil and popcorn wafting through the air. “Clowns are scary. You want a funnel cake?”

“You said clowns are outdated,” Jake reminded him, looking up at Danny with flushed cheeks. “I think you also said ‘boring.’”

“They’re not my thing,” Danny said with a sigh, foregoing the idea of funnel cakes. Jake hadn’t even wanted to smoke before this event, too worried he’d become paranoid and freak out even more. For a while, Danny didn’t understand why Jake wanted to do these scary things every Halloween season. Their time in the haunted cabin had been enough for him to believe that Jake wanted to avoid ghosts, ghouls, goblins and whatever else, real or not. But the more they went to haunted hayrides and haunted houses, walked along ghost tours, sat through spooky stories and horror movies with Josh and Sam, Danny realized that when Jake got scared, Danny got turned on. He didn’t know why, nor did he want to know why. He accepted that, no matter how tortuous it seemed, Jake loved being scared and Danny loved seeing him scared.

He hadn’t told Jake that though. This was their first Halloween together. He was still nervous about it. Way more nervous about that than about some silly clowns.

“Like they’re my thing?” Jake said with a scoff, burrowing further into Danny’s side. “I still remember that one from the haunted house last year. You know, the one that came at us with a hatchet?”

“Hey, Jake,” Danny began, speaking the words softly against the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Do you also remember that the hatchet was plastic?”

Jake groaned. “Okay, yeah, sure, it’s all fake. But it feels real.”

“That’s the point. Besides, I know you like it.”

Jake looked up again, dark eyes even darker in the night. “What else do I like, Danny?”

Danny chuckled, rubbing his hand over Jake’s shoulder. He definitely knew what he liked–seeing Jake all flustered and red-faced, hearing him gasp and pant, feeling the squeeze of his hand when things got intense. He thought about opening up about that, actually, revealing how much it turned him on to see Jake so vulnerable and feral, but then the line was moving.

“We’re up,” Danny said, freeing Jake from his hold, but Jake immediately latched onto his arm as they approached the wagon.

Even their guide along the ride spooked Jake when he hopped onto the wagon–not a clown, but a huge–in both width and height–man dressed in bloody rags with fake scars and cuts all over his face. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the man boomed, and Jake squished himself into Danny’s side even more. With that, the wagon started to roll shakily over the grass, and the guide began his formal introduction into, yes, what was still, apparently, the year of the clown.

There wasn’t much happening during the first couple minutes of meandering through the field, but whenever a distant shout, grunt or scream could be heard, Jake trembled. Danny held him close and watched–he wouldn’t get as scared as Jake would, but he could still get spooked, and he had to admit that the atmosphere was pretty chilling.

“We must beware the apple orchard,” the guide said, his voice unnaturally low but quieter as he addressed the crowd huddled together on the edges of the cart. “What was once an innocent field of fruit now bears something insidious. Something demonic.” At that, Danny felt Jake stiffen beside him. “Unnatural creatures have made this place their home. If we move swiftly, we might just–”

A girl sitting nearby shrieked as something–a clown, of course–charged through the trees, swinging a bloody machete. Danny felt himself stiffen with anticipation while Jake hooked his arm around his middle, both of them silent. The clown that had terrorized the girl was making his rounds, bobbing around the edges of the cart and pretending to slash people with his blade.

“Oh god, no!” Jake yelped when the clown thrust himself toward him and Danny, and Danny fought the instinct to kick the clown away. If it were a real threat, he thought to himself, he’d do anything possible to protect Jake. He hoped that his boyfriend knew that.

What was just a few seconds must have felt like an eon for Jake, who was still shaking with adrenaline after the clown simmered and was left behind, waving the machete as the wagon moved onward. Danny let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his eyes roaming the apple trees as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” Jake said, bringing one hand to his chest. “But I might not be by the end of this.”

But Jake persevered through the apple orchard. He survived the small flurry of clowns that attacked with various weapons, shrieking and cackling and making the entire wagon shriek in response; Danny, meanwhile, found that he was paying far more attention to Jake than anything else. It was hard not to. He was so in tune with him–how tightly he was holding his breath and the sound of his voice, how it changed when he got scared, becoming a little higher and rougher. He was also very aware of how snugly Jake was impressed upon him, like he was permanently glued to him and Danny liked it that way.

Even Danny felt a little uneasy though when the wagon came to a complete stop inside of a barn. It was completely dark except for intermittent splashes of red and white light, allowing him to see the fake blood on the walls, the bones and fake severed limbs, the eerie clown paintings. Everything was complete with a huge fake corpse hanging overhead.

“A mechanical problem,” the guide announced. “Unfortunate to stop here, but I’m sure we’ll be moving again shortly.”

“Danny…” Jake said quietly, squeezing his hand around Danny’s wrist so hard it actually hurt.

Of course, as soon as Jake said that, demonic laughter echoed from all around. Jake squeezed even tighter but Danny didn’t move. Jake needed him in that moment and there was nothing hotter than that, and not even the sudden onslaught of grating music and the laughter growing louder as an impressively large clown shot out from the darkness could take away his own thrills. Jake began clawing desperately at Danny’s arm with one hand and gripping his thigh with the other, squeaking and whimpering right next to his ear, but the clown decided to terrify the group of people on the opposite side.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Jake said with a hard exhale when the wagon abruptly started to roll again. But the huge clown ran toward it and Danny was shocked that the clown zeroed in on them next, trying to fake-slash at both of their legs. Jake squealed and really did try to kick the clown away, which made Danny laugh. Jake yelped again and begged, “Danny, help!”

The clown grinned wildly, teeth covered in fake blood, but the wagon sped up; Danny watched as the clown finally stayed motionless, which was actually more ominous to him than the man moving, giving Jake some room to breathe. Danny wrapped his arm around him once more. “It’s over, Jake,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that was the big finale.”

Indeed it was. All that was left were lingering screams and maniacal laughter, which kept Jake’s hands all over Danny until they were back to the beginning. Those hands and that tight little body so close to his during their short night of terror had elicited a different sort of adrenaline rush within Danny, so intense by the time they were getting off the wagon that he knew he needed to finally do something about it. But now Jake actually wanted a funnel cake, and patience was a virtue Danny proudly possessed.

Jake was frantically munching on the fried dough, powdered sugar sticking to his fingers, while they sat on the hood of Danny’s car. Danny couldn’t keep one thing to himself much longer. “You’re so cute,” he said. It was ordinary, something any boyfriend would say, but when Jake looked up at him, he added, “Even cuter when you’re scared.”

Jake’s eyes widened and he paused chewing for a moment, looking perplexed. When he resumed finishing that bite, he shook his head before meeting Danny’s gaze again. “Cute when I’m scared?” he repeated with suspicion, narrowing his eyes.

Danny reached over and stole a piece of funnel cake for himself. “Yeah. You are.” Jake just kept looking at him, so Danny shrugged. “What? I can’t be the first person to point that out.”

“Uh, yeah you are, Danny.”

That sort of pleased him, actually. Danny looped his arm around Jake’s waist. “It kinda turns me on, honestly.”

Jake coughed into his arm, powdered sugar dotting the sleeve. “Really?”

“Yeah. You get all flustered. You hold onto me all tight,” Danny told him, still feeling the ghost of Jake’s hand wrapped painfully around his wrist. “It makes me feel like you need me.”

“I do need you.” Jake hopped off to toss the paper plate into a nearby trash can. He put his hands on his hips when he turned back around to face him. “But you didn’t save me from that last clown.”

Danny slid off the hood and went to him, circling Jake into a loose hug. “If a real psychotic clown were after you, I’d save you. I’d do anything for you.” One part of their relationship he was still getting used to because it scared him more than clowns or ghosts or demons ever could–PDA. He lifted Jake’s face to his and kissed him; Jake’s hands gripped the open body of Danny’s jacket, showing that, yes, he really did need him. When Danny pulled back, Jake looked calm again. “You really do turn me on when you get scared, Jake,” Danny told him, holding the sides of his face. “I guess that makes me weird. But, whatever. I’m glad you’re so into the spooky shit since it pays off for me.”

Jake pursed his lips a little, a quizzical look on his pretty face. “How come I never get to see you scared?”

“There’s only one thing that scares me.”

“Which is?”

Danny moved his hands to Jake’s shoulders. “Losing you. Losing Josh and Sam.”

Jake’s hands gently squeezed Danny’s waist. “Oh come on, Danny. That’ll never happen. We’re way more likely to get attacked by a psycho clown.”

Danny laughed and began to steer Jake to the car. That reassurance meant everything to him. Sometimes he worried, felt that dreadful fear, that someday it would all be gone and nothing truly scared him like that thought. And now, still feeling residual arousal from Jake’s terror and the swell of love in his heart, he needed to finally get his own kicks tonight.

“You’re brave,” Danny said softly while he walked behind Jake, reaching in front of him to get the back passenger door open. “You keep doing these things even though you know they scare you.”

“I think that’s called ‘stupidity,’ Danny,” Jake replied, then looked back over his shoulder. “Why are we going back here?”

“You got to feel such a rush tonight,” Danny told him, urging him to get in the backseat. With a curious look, Jake did, tucking his legs in, and Danny followed. “Can I get mine?” He kept moving forward, pushing Jake onto his back, and didn’t wait for a reply. He just kissed his beautiful, valiant boyfriend, gripping Jake’s sides to start feeling for the warmth of his skin beneath the layers of clothing.

Jake kissed him back, bringing his hands to Danny’s hair, tugging lightly. Danny took that invitation and ran with it, the rush of his own lust and love churning to life again; he kissed deep and slow, how his instincts often guided him when it came to Jake. He was so precious–the thought of ever losing him really did terrify Danny. Danny wanted to keep him safe forever, to make Jake feel nothing but completely adored.

When Danny’s hand made it down to the fly of Jake’s jeans, Jake said, “Someone might see.”

Danny pressed his lips to his neck. “I’m not afraid of that.” Those soft kisses elicited the quiet little moans he was after; Jake was so responsive to him even if he was a little worried about catching a glimpse of what they were doing in the dark. Jake clutched to him fiercely when Danny got his fly undone and slipped his hand past the denim and cotton boxers, wiggling against the seat.

“You deserve to feel good after all that shit out there,” Danny said, lifting himself up enough to spit into his hand. Jake squirmed even more when that hand was brought down to his cock, growing harder with each stroke Danny offered.

“What about you?” Jake asked between another exchange of lips and tongue; Danny was back to kissing him all that he could. It was all he ever needed sometimes, Danny felt–anything else was a bonus.

“This is what I need. To make you feel good. To show you that I’m here,” Danny told him as Jake’s fingers raked through his hair. Jake moaned a little louder at that, arching into his touch. Danny’s urgency revved up at the enthusiastic response, and he wished for more of this, for Jake to be so vividly his all the time. They’d get there, he knew, and he was ultimately absolutely fine with taking things slowly. There was a beauty in that. And right now, he might not have been able to see much of Jake as he wanted, but he could feel him–the rapid flutter of his pulse, the rising and falling of his chest, the warmth of his skin which became even warmer after every press of Danny’s lips.

Jake reached down, feeling more for himself, and Danny’s breath tightened at the slight squeeze around his own cock, still so stiff and wanting, trapped underneath his pants. “I wanna make you feel good too, Danny.”

Danny couldn’t say no to that. He hastily got his dick out with one hand, sat back, feet on the floor, and brought Jake to a sitting position in his lap. “You make me feel good all the time,” he said, bringing his hands to Jake’s hips, urging him to ride as if they were actually fucking. Jake did, working into a steady sequence of shallow humps that rubbed their cocks together. Danny groaned softly, blinking through the dark, small space to see as much as he could. “Oh my god, Jake–my brave boy, so fucking hot.” The words were unconscious, instinctive–with Jake, Danny struggled to have a filter. He realized Jake actually liked it that way. “Love seeing you tremble. Love hearing you gasp. I love when you do it for me.”

“Who knew,” Jake began with a harsh roll of his hips. “That you were such a freak.” The sentence ended with a huff and he dove forward to smother Danny with wet, hurried kisses. He stuffed a hand between them, too small to wrap all the way around both of their leaking erections but Danny moaned with appreciation at the effort and the added friction. Jake touching him anywhere in anyway drove him crazy.

The sudden glow of yellow headlights behind them allowed Danny to see him more completely, and the sight of him with his pink cheeks, soft gaze from his dark eyes and crumpled collar just fueled his inner frenzy. “Fuck, you’re so fucking cute, so pretty,” he breathed out raggedly, fumbling with that disshelved shirt to get it unbuttoned. When he did, he cupped Jake’s hip with one hand and felt along his chest with the other, tweaking a nipple and making Jake shudder just like he wanted. “My brave boy is so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot riding me.” The headlights disappeared and Danny pulled him forward, latching onto his neck with his teeth as he shot between them, a trail of sticky wetness on his shirt and Jake’s bare stomach.

He’d fully intended for Jake to finish first. He grabbed Jake’s ass and started doing the work, grinding up into him and thrusting them together even harder despite his spent dick feeling a little just over the edge of being too sensitive. Jake’s increasingly loud moans and curses were music to Danny’s ears; those hands on his shoulder and in his hair were the grounding pull he needed to always feel.

“So strong,” Jake noted quietly while Danny kept him in motion. He pressed his face to the side of Danny’s neck, the soft whimpers trickling through Danny’s ear. “You’d really do anything for me?”

Danny nodded, squeezing his ass. “Anything, baby. Right now, I wanna make you come.” He found the space between them and took Jake’s cock in his hand, stroking as Jake kept grinding on top of his thighs. “One of these days, I’m gonna make you scream for me.”

Just as Danny lifted Jake’s mouth to his again, he stifled what Danny knew would have been a sharper, louder sound if they were somewhere private. Instead, a whimper escaped his lips and he stiffened, tightening up severely before he quickly went slack, body loose and heavy atop Danny’s own.

Not dissimilar to how it had been earlier in the night, Jake snuggled into him, resting his face in the crook of Danny’s neck with a sigh. “I’ve known you how many years, Danny?” he began, and Danny could feel him smiling. “Yet you continue to surprise me.”

Danny held him, stroking his hands along Jake’s back. “Hopefully in a good way and not like those clowns tearing out of the woods.”

Jake planted a big kiss to Danny’s forehead before sliding off to the side, tucking himself back into his jeans. “You continue to surprise me in the best way.” He sighed, resting his head in his hand, leaning against the seat, and smiled a little. “I know you’d do anything for me. For any of us. Same goes for us, to you, you know.”

Danny reached out, taking Jake’s other hand to hold between them. “I know.”

The smile grew, turning a little salacious. “So does this mean you’ll take me to that haunted house next weekend?”

Danny lifted Jake’s hand to kiss his knuckles. “Anything you want. But does that mean we get to fuck around again after?”

Jake laughed, head thrown back. “Yeah, sure, as long as you protect me from all the monsters.”

---

Tagging: @mackalah @kissingthegoat @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

#greta van fleet #gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #gvf fic #gvf slash #danny wagner x jake kiszka #janny #gvf fanfiction #HAPPY HALLOWEEN GVF GIRLIES

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wri0thesley · 1 year

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I just adore Kaveh, but after your last fic, the petty in me wants to see him suffer.

I really love the idea that darling ignores Kaveh completely after his betrayal. I understand they are romantic and loving, but romanticism as an art movement was all about passion, and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

But imagine a darling now 100% obedient to Althaitham, because at least his expectations are easy to understand and he doesn’t rip your heart from your chest with every new trinket or treat from a place you will never get to see. Althaitham is easy to please if you follow the rules, and seeing Kaveh suddenly finding himself on the outs is more satisfying than any reward.

And maybe, just maybe, Alhaitham finds himself softening just slightly. He knows what darling is doing, and it gives him a little thrill each time darling stares blankly at Kaveh and then buries her face in the scribe’s chest instead. In a way, they almost have a silent agreement. Darling is good for him, and he allows these small bratty acts of pettiness. After all, he never wanted you to be spoiled by Kaveh anyway.

It’s even better when darling begins seeking Alhaitham out for more intimate matters, when the craving to be held and praised outweighs pride, but darling refuses to let go of their stubborn streak and find Kaveh, who is surely more gentle. But that determination is one of the things Alhaitham found most endearing in the beginning, so he rewards darling by being gentler, telling her that she’s being good, and showing more affection by allowing darling to stay in his bed, loving how she clings to him in her sleep because he’s the only one she has now.

And just maybe…darling starts to rationalize her situation. She’s never getting free, so it would be best to make the most of it. And Alhaitham had been more bearable lately. More importantly, while they are hard-won, the slight affection he shows, like cupping her cheeks before he leaves for work, or allowing her to see the genuine fondness in his eyes when she curls into his side on that awful couch…those are REAL. She’s EARNED that affection, and Alhaitham wouldn’t lie, he’s always been honest with his intentions and desires of her. It feels more comfortable, knowing that she’s earned a reward versus having her needs and desires manipulated.

Oh, and Kaveh is just MISERABLE. He’s being completely ignored, his gifts thrown away right in front of him, his darling now seeking out Alhaitham, ALHAITHAM!! Over him. And he does everything, begging for darling to look at him with the wide loving eyes he’s used to, not this cold indifference. It’s almost like darling has become more like Alhaitham.

It comes to a head the next time Alhaitham is gone overnight, when Kaveh is hovering with treats and presents, thinking darling will finally fall back into his arms if he begs for forgiveness.

Cue him on his knees, tears in his eyes and his arms wrapped around darling’s legs, looking up and spouting the most heartfelt confession and apology.

And darling just staring down at him with rage and hurt, not saying a word until finally:

“I gave you a chance to have me all to yourself, to live a life with me. But you chose an easy life with Alhaitham instead. Is it so strange that I’d do the same?”

Just uuuuuugh! I want Kaveh to be the most miserable thing on the planet, until he’s fantasizing over what would have happened had he escaped with darling, desperately wishing he’d taken that option instead. Because now, with the suffocating pressure of a roommate who barely tolerates him and a darling who loathes him, now he truly feels like a prisoner, locked away from any and all affection.

anon i don't actually have anything to add to this but i love it so so much and it's absolutely one of the ways i imagine the scenario unfolds after the events of canicular. i love kaveh, and he suffers plenty in canon, but this yan kaveh specifically deserves to suffer.

oh! the pain of 'i gave you a chance'. kaveh realising it's slipped through his fingers. kaveh having to confront that he liked having that power over reader. just like alhaitham. he says he's not like alhaitham but oh, maybe he is--

#nat.txt #yandere for ts #genshin impact posting

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thedanniannie · 4 months

Text

Fully Enamored - Itachi Uchiha POV fic

You're getting ready for a date night with Itachi. You saved your nicest outfit for tonight, and let's just say Itachi is OBSESSED...

✨️fluff/praise GALORE✨️

Gender neutral reader

(This is written as a POV from Itachi, so while I imagined him, feel free to replace your mental image with any introverted fictional character who has big feelings but can't communicate them to save their life)

Also itachi putting his hand over his mouth is purely an idea from my friend, Ezra. She told me she saw him doing that so you wouldn't see him smile or biting his lip, and it was do hot I had to include it.

"I'm almost done!" they project from the hidden space of their bathroom.

"Don't feel rushed my love. I can wait."

I take my place on the freshly fluffed couch. Examining the usually cluttered coffee table, I can tell they must have lost track of time from cleaning their apartment. It must have been entertaining, to be present to watch them fumble with the unfolded laudry, to watch their eyebrows scrunch together when they organize their belongings, and to look over at them as they curse to themselves for letting their space become so hectic yet again. They did well, the home is spotless. It doesn't bother me to wait for them in the living room, their choice of decor was like a museum. The walls a collage of photos and paintings from family and friends. The coat rack was tipping with more jackets than a single person could need. The shelves filled with trinkets, and I could recognize some of the items from second hand shops and art fairs we had visited together.

Perfect, it was so perfectly them. I could gaze at these walls for days. They were generous with their personality, to me, to their friends, and to their home. But no matter how generous they were, no amount of them could satiate my need for them. Maybe there was a slight lie in what I said earlier, I can't wait. I need to see them now.

Their feet begin to move and I hear the light switch click. I wrap two fingers to cover the corners of my already upturning lips before cocking my head to meet their eyes.

The three seconds that I got to look at them felt like an eternity. An eternity that I was happy to be prisoner in. Their beauty caged my heart, my soul, and never did I wish more than in this moment for a key that could unlock this cage to never exist. Their walls were a gallery, and they were the Louvre. They deserved to be seen by the world, for everyone to know how it feels to be drunk on their ethereal grace, and to be lost in thought by meeting them. But at the same time the world doesn't deserve them. I don't even deserve them. A being so beautiful, even a divine creator from above is in shock and awe. A drug that no parental figure ever warned me about. I look at their eyes, their fly away hairs, their lips, fingertips, the dips in their skin, they way they're fumbling with their belongings right now and the energy I feel shoots up my veins, and it makes me feel dizzy and idiotic. They're excruciating, and it scares me enough to want to run away. It's torturous to sit here and not let myself slip into an uncontrollable and maddening love sickness, that is if I wasn't already. I fear I am all consumed.

"Do I look fine?" They ask me with that insecure and inquisitive tone. Such an aching tone to hear.

But I'm no better. Every time I finally form the words to remind them of their beauty, eventually I find the words are not enough. They're beyond words, but my stomach turns sour when I bring myself out of their trance and the only pathetic sentence that can come out of my mouth is...

"Yes... you look wonderful darling..."

#itachi naruto #itachi fanfic #itachi x reader #itachi pov #itachi uchiha #uchiha fic #uchiha #itachi #praise

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

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Part 7!! No more teasers after this one because I'm wrapping up the fic and I want you guys to have some parts to look forward to!!:

You didn’t sleep very well at all.

Along with the aches and random pains in weird places in your body- a tugging in your lower abdomen that also has a random stabbing along with it, back pain, an almost constant headache, and just a general discomfort and ache in your body- you also had this constant metal taste that was like having a mouthful of rusty change in your mouth at all times.

You were constantly waking up throughout the night from the discomfort, the violent urge to brush your teeth to purge your mouth of the vile metallic tang plaguing you. This, compounded with your incessant gagging, had you growing nauseous with the mere thought of your toothbrush starting to make you want to dry-heave.

You were presently standing over the sink, tears in your eyes as you tried to prepare yourself to gargle some mouthwash after having thrown up for about the fifth time since you woke up in the middle of the night.

Sevika, ever the stony sleeper, had no idea until she rolled over, finding your cold spot in the bed next to her. She groaned, calling out in a sleep-filled voice, “Baby, what’re you doin’? Come back so we can cuddle...”

You huffed, gripping onto the counter, fighting the urge to dry-heave again, “I’ll be back in a second....”

You could hear her trudging footsteps coming closer to the bathroom until she was coming up behind you, rubbing your back and pulling hair out of your face, concern and sleep both written on her features, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I just.... I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” you shook your head, pushing her hand away before grabbing the capful of mouthwash.

“You can’t lie to me, dream girl. You’re crying, you’re pale... you look like shit and you’re supposed to be asleep right now. Talk to me.”

“I’m in pain, gagging now has nausea with it, I just threw up, so now I gotta wash that out of my mouth, but that’s still not going to get rid of this fucking taste in my mouth and I just-”

“Hey,” she moved to stand right in front of you, hands on your arms as she rubbed them to try and calm you back down, “Avalanche, you’re spiraling, dreamy. Take a deep breath with me and we’ll go sit down and talk, okay?”

You nodded as you looked up at her, taking a shaky but somewhat deep breath along with her as she nodded along, continuing to rub your arms with her thumbs tracing circles.

You let out a hiccup when you went to exhale and the second the tears started to brew again, she shook her head, “No, no, eyes on me... You’re safe... you’re okay, I promise. I’m here. You are okay, you’re doing so well, my love. Let’s try again, okay? Deep breaths.”

It took a few more tries before you finally relaxed in her hold, wrapping your arms around her. She brought one hand up to play in your hair, the pads of her fingers rubbing your scalp as her claws on her mech hand trailed lightly up and down your back.

She ended up taking you to the kitchen, sitting you down as she made you a glass of water with two and a half ice cubes- just the way you liked it after an episode like that, holding your free hand and kissing your knuckles and fingertips as you drank with your other hand.

When you sat the glass down, she stepped between your legs, still stroking her thumb over the back of your knuckles, “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll talk. If you don’t wanna talk, we can go back to sleep. If you want a distraction, we can watch something, or I could read you something. Just let me know, okay?”

You nodded, reaching up with your other arm for her to come closer. She pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaning into the embrace, wrapping you up in her arms. The two of you remained that way for a few quiet moments until you looked up at her with a sniffle, your chin on her chest, “Sev?”

“Yes, dreamy?”

“Can you read to me in bed?”

“Absolutely, baby. Do you wanna stay with me while I grab a book or go get comfy?” You held onto her tighter and she nodded, stroking your hair, “Alright, I got you.” She moved so that she could give you a piggyback while she grabbed a book. She ran her finger over the titles, moving on to the next one when you let out a little ‘mh-mh’ sound at each one until giving a nod when she got to a book you wanted to hear.

Once you were both back in bed, Sevika sat up against the headboard with you lying on your stomach between her legs curled up into her chest, she started reading the book, her voice still rather raspy from sleep. She held the book in one hand, her other one up at your face, stroking your cheek with the back of her fingers and only moving to flip the page.

Eventually, you closed your eyes, enjoying the vibrations of her voice in her chest and the feel of her fingers on your face. Unconsciously, you took hold of her hand, fiddling with her fingers. She paused in her reading to check in, “You okay?”

“My mouth feels empty,” you lamented softly, the traces of whining laced in your voice.

She kissed your temple, “You’ve got my fingers, mama. Do you want me to keep reading?”

Sevika was no stranger to your occasional bouts like this. You hadn’t had a panic attack like that in a while, but usually when you did, you came out of them feeling very subby, not saying much, and your oral fixation would kick up, usually leading you to say things like ‘my mouth feels empty’.

You nodded in response to her question as you closed your eyes again, softly sucking and gnawing on her index finger. She smiled as your breathing evened out, setting the book aside as she pulled the covers over you both, allowing you to keep her finger before she picked the book back up.

A little groan left you as you took one more finger into your mouth, shifting atop her with your right arm wrapped around her. She shushed you softly, pressing a kiss to your hair, “I’m right here, dream girl... I’ll never let you go... promise...”

🥺🥹🥰

#incredible amazing brilliant #sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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weedinfusedoatmeal · 1 year

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Choked Up ; Josh Kiszka x reader

tw: not technically smut but sexual situations, descriptions of rape

a/n: i would love some honest feedback but plz don't be mean this is my first fic and i'm nervous!!! i also wrote this in like 5 hours so this probably won't be super great

After what felt like an eternity, you faintly heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of your door. Josh had texted a few hours prior saying that he’d be late, that they were working on some thing or another - you always skimmed over the explanations. Too many words you didn’t feel like piecing together, but you knew he was hard at work, so it never bothered you.

He opened the door and barely pushed it closed before walking to you, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss.

It felt like minutes before he pulled away. “Hi, sunshine.”

You blushed. “Hi Joshy.” You booped his nose playfully, and he giggled before blushing himself.

The mood quickly turned, though - he grabbed your waist and pulled you flush to him, leaning in to leave a purple mark behind your ear. “Been thinking about you all day.”

“Mm,” you let out a low moan as he walked you into the bedroom, only pausing to lay you carefully on the bed while undoing his belt with his free hand.

His fingers trailed up your legs and pulled the band of your sweatpants and underwear down, hastily yanking them from your ankles and throwing them haphazardly across the room before shoving his own pants off. He crawled in between your legs and met you for another kiss, grinding his body down against yours, prompting a groan to jump from your throat. He folded the shirt over your breasts, not wanting to break the kiss to remove it completely, and began grappling and fondling with the flesh of your chest.

One of his hands trailed up, resting slightly at your collarbone before moving up again, holding his hand lightly but firmly around your throat. He pushed your chin up gently with his palm and began kissing your neck, sucking and biting lightly while he held your head up.

Your eyes popped open, and before you could stop yourself, your hand flung to his wrist and shoved his hand away. Even though he hadn’t been squeezing in the slightest, you let out a strangled breath as soon as his fingers were off. You were hoping he hadn’t noticed, and that you could just move on and get back in the moment, but the unexpected act sent a rush of panic through your veins that you couldn’t shake.

You wanted to tell him to stop, to bang your fists on his chest to get him off of you, to get him off of you, but a rush of guilt accompanied the panic. He had a long day, and he’d been waiting for this, and you shouldn’t feel unsafe with him. You knew logically if you told him to stop, he would. But your brain wasn’t reaching logic, and all you could think about was the last time you’d been under somebody in this way, and under somebody who was doing these things, and what had happened when you’d said no.

It all occurred so quickly that by the time he’d looked over to you, you were already tensed and confused, not fully present in your body or in the moment with him. Your face was scrunched, eyes shut tightly, taking shallow breaths and tears threatening to fall behind your closed lids. His brows furrowed and he paused his movement, bringing his elbow down beside you to balance himself.

He knew that your change in state was caused by his actions, but mistook your panic as anger or resentment at his lack of asking first.

“I should’ve asked, I’m so sorry. I just thought- I- are you okay?” He stuttered with a soft voice, and it brought you back down to earth slightly. It was just Josh, and he was worried, and he wouldn’t be upset if you asked him to stop.

But your panic hadn’t gone away, so the request came out more rushed and abrupt than you meant it to. “Get off, please get off, just- I can’t- please.” You pleaded with him, and his nose stung with the idea that he’d hurt you. He pulled away from you and crawled beside you, reaching to brush your hair gently, but he flinched back when you sat up and took a gasping breath.

“I just- I need a minute, can I please just go sit in the bathroom for a little?” You weren’t looking at him, rather at the comforter below your legs, and the first tear fell from his eyes as he computed your request.

“You don’t- of course you can. You don’t need to ask me. Can I do anything-”

“I’m sorry.” You spat out before you stood up and blindly grabbed a pair of pants from the dresser before walking to your destination, closing the door quietly behind you and leaning onto the marble countertop.

You turned the water on as cold as it could get, splashing it onto your face and leaning under the tap to take a quick drink. You gave yourself the time to get yourself grounded, getting your breath under control and your eyes dried before you walked back out.

You paused before the bedroom door to take another breath before opening it. Josh was sat on the bed with his head in his hands, moving up to look at you when he heard the door open. It was clear he had been crying as well, and it took everything in you to keep yourself from crying again.

You walked slowly to him, sitting beside his frame and directing your eyes to the fabric under you. You paused for a moment to give him an opportunity to say something, but when he didn’t, you took your chance.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Do not apologize-”

“Just- let me talk, please. I’m… I need to say some things.” You interrupted, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

He nodded and fixed his posture, sitting straight up and directing all of his attention to you.

“I’m just sorry that you had to see that. It’s not- it’s never happened before with other people and it’s not something I want people to see so I’m sorry that you did. And I’m sorry that you were thinking about this all day and it didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to.” You hashed out your apologies and finally met your timid eyes with his, signaling to him that a response was available to be put out.

“You don’t need to be sorry about anything, sweetheart. It obviously wasn’t intentional and you’re not to blame for whatever happened. And you really don’t need to be sorry if you think you ruined my night. This is only something that I want if you want it, and I hope you know that I’ll never expect you to do something if you aren’t comfortable or if you want to do something else. I love spending time with you no matter what we do. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way-”

“No, no! It’s not that,” you interrupted, “it’s just, um… I don’t really know how to say this.”

His brows furrowed and he leaned forward slightly, grabbing your hands in his and rubbing the backs of your palms with his thumbs. “Can I ask you some questions?”

You debated the request for a moment, because on one hand, you didn’t want him to end up playing a guessing game all night. But on the other, you knew he was smart, and by his demeanor and concern, he would probably ask the right questions.

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He parroted with a softer tone. “I just want to say first that I should have asked you if it was okay before I did something like that, and that will never ever happen again. I can promise you that right now.” He said sternly, and you nodded once again.

“Was it just that? I’d understand if you were upset with me for it.”

You shook your head profusely. “No, not at all. I’m not upset with you. I mean, I wasn’t expecting it, and it did upset me, but not because of that.”

He took a deep breath and looked down. “I’m really scared to get the answer for what I’m about to ask.”

Your chest tightened and you let out a heavy sigh. “Something happened. To me. That you don’t know about.”

He nodded slightly. “That’s what I was going to ask.”

You nodded back, and a tear rolled down his cheek. It took him a minute to respond.

“Do you want to talk about it?” It was barely above a whisper; he wanted to know, but his heart was also breaking at the mere thought. He was hoping that he had misunderstood your words, and that what he thought you were referring to wasn’t the case.

You paused before shaking your head and separating yourself from his grasp by rubbing your face with your hands. “It’s- I’ve never told anyone before. And I really don’t think it’s something you want to know.”

His head shot up at that, reaching for your hands again. “If you need to talk, I’m here, honey. This sounds like something that you might need to get off of your chest so you’re not carrying it around alone. I love you and I want to know you, even the things that weigh on your mind. Even the bad parts. But if it’s something you’re not ready to talk about, I’m not going to push you.” He concluded with a gentle smile, easing your nerves and filling your eyes with tears.

A few minutes of silence went by. He sat patiently with you, watching the gears turn in your mind, waiting for your answer. When it finally came, he squeezed your hands slightly as a reassurance.

“I’m just gonna… I need to just spit this out in one go. If I try and say it in pieces it’s not gonna come out.” He mumbled a quiet, ‘mhm’, but your nerves were still running wild.

“I was- hmph. It’s just… I-” He didn’t interrupt as you struggled for the words and stuttered over yourself, instead giving you reassuring touches and smiles.

You inhaled a big breath, and then before you could convince yourself to stop, you vomited the words out. “I was raped when I was 17.”

You saw and felt him physically flinch, face falling into a saddened expression. He knew what was coming, and his inference was right, but hearing the words still broke his heart more than any thought could.

“It was an older guy- it’s a long story as to how I knew him. But he had me alone at one point, and it happened. And it just- he had me tied down and before he actually… did anything, he pushed my head up so he could kiss my neck.” The pieces finally settled into place in his head, and he could physically feel his heart crack in two. “It took me a really long time to be able to be intimate with people again, even just, like, hugging. But I got over it as best I could. I haven’t had anyone do that to me since and it took me back.” You sniffled to try and stop the tears from coming, but the angle of your face toward the mattress prompted one to fall as you blinked. He rushed to wipe it away, leaning in to give the top of your head a loving kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you-“

He was cut off by a choked sob that you desperately tried to hold back, but under his attentive gaze and heartfelt words, you couldn’t help it anymore.

“Can I hug you, sweetheart?”

You all but leapt into his arms, scooting yourself forward and holding him so tight you were surprised he wasn’t struggling to breathe. As best as he could in the position, he rocked you back and forth while you cried into his shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me, I’m so proud of you.” He spoke when your cries diminished, peeling off of you to look into your eyes. He opened his mouth to say more, but closed it quickly, huffing slightly. “I don’t know what to say.”

Now that you had gotten it off your chest, your mind didn’t feel as heavy, so you jested back. “Josh Kiszka, speechless? Unheard of.”

He chuckled halfheartedly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. “I love you so much.” He said tearfully.

“I love you too.” You pulled the covers over your legs and laid down, grabbing his arms and pulling him down with you. He rested his head on your chest, and you raked your fingers through his hair.

“M’ tired.” He mumbled.

“Tell me about it.” You joked, and he laughed and reached for your hand, locking his fingers with yours. He squeezed it tightly for the hundredth time that night, nestling his curls into you, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm.

“You’re so amazing.”

You let the smile burst onto your face, giggling quietly at the sound of him softly snoring mere seconds after he spoke. You felt your eyes filling with tears again when you looked down at him, astonished at the amount of love you felt seeping from the warm and soft skin that laid atop your body.

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astrodances · 6 months

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This fic started with the idea I've had for a while of Raine giving Eda wrist kisses after she got her sigil, and it just evolved into this whole scene which I basically wrote all of last night. 🥺🥹

(And yay!! Managed to write, finish, and post something in 2023!! And yay for my first (published) TOH fic!)

Happy, healthy, lovely New Year to everyone, and thank you for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting! 🥳💜

_____

A Brave Face

It stings. Titan, it stings and it burns and it hurts it hurts it hurts-

Steve utters an “I’m sorry” laced with so much regret to an unhearing Eda, hiding the offending sigil glove as he backs away from her unseeing eyes, still tightly wound shut against the reality of what just happened.

Raine’s quick to take over, ushering Eda to the stern of the Bard Coven airship (in this moment, they want to curse every string they ever plucked, every note ever played under the coven’s banner). Everyone else pointedly stays near the bow, giving them the space they need. Lilith stays near the edge of the group, closest to the middle, on standby in case a sisterly shoulder is called for.

Eda’s breaths are heavy, shaky in the silence they wrap themselves in. The wind, free and cold at this altitude, flows by to tickle their hair and clothing, but otherwise, she stays braced against the pain, clutching her branded arm to her chest.

“Eda...?” Raine prods gently. “Eda? Hey, can you hear me?” Every syllable is softer than a whisper (they should know), and one hand stays on Eda’s shoulder to help ground her to the present, their thumb rubbing comforting circles.

Eyes still closed, Eda’s willpower catches in her throat, and she sniffs in warning before the tears begin to flow as freely as the wind. She shakes her head, not at Raine’s question, but at everything she’s feeling. Against the ability to speak. At the unfairness of it all.

Raine immediately covers Eda in an embrace, angling her away from everyone to give her more privacy. Mindful of her arm, they cradle her head and bring her close to them. Her mane of hair absorbs most of the vibrations she emits with each audible sob, each one deepening the grimace across their face and crushing their heart more and more.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you...” they say, refusing to lie with any false platitudes or even mention the sigil right now. Still, they hope their words and their presence are enough to soothe her, to just let her know that she isn’t alone.

Eda merely snuggles further into the crook of Raine’s neck, letting-needing-them to support her as she lets her guard down.

They let a few more long moments pass, giving Eda time to let the brunt of the storm pass. Raine, meanwhile, begins to regulate their breathing, and finally says, “Try to focus on my voice, okay? I’m gonna count you through a breathing exercise.”

Without waiting for an answer, they begin, demonstrating as they go.

“In, two, three, four...”

Eda shudders against them as they hold for a moment.

“...and out, two, three, four.”

In less-dire circumstances, Eda would make a joke here about Raine being a walking time-signature or something to that effect, and Titan, Raine wishes it were so. They’d take any form of teasing right now just to see a shadow of a smile grace her face.

“In, two, three, four...”

“Out, two, three, four...”

They keep the rhythm, not caring how long they have to stand there breathing and counting to get through, imbuing as much calm as they can into the other witch. Other airships go by, quiet murmurs make their way from the front of their own, but Raine’s focus remains undeterred.

Eventually, after several minutes, Eda stills, her own breathing still strong but steadier. Raine pulls themself back just enough to see her face and catches her wincing.

“Are you okay?” they ask. They know the answer is no, but it’s instinctual.

Her eyes are still closed and she’s still holding the outside of her arm, but for the first time since before the branding, Eda speaks. “It hurts, Raine,” she hisses.

“What do you mean?”

“The si- my wrist, it hurts. Like it’s burning.”

She offers her arm out partway, and Raine takes the invitation to hold onto her hand, gently coaxing her wrist into view. They try to reign in a gasp at the sight of Edalyn Clawthorne with a sigil - it’s still hard to believe this happened at all.

Sigils usually don’t hurt for this long though, if at all; Raine’s tingled for maybe half a minute. And the eclipse hasn’t started yet.

“Maybe it’s because of the curse?” they speculate, fingers itching to run over the branded skin.

“Maybe,” Eda whispers.

There’s something so broken in the way she says that one word that causes Raine to whip their head back up to her, only for them to furrow their brow in utter despair. They feel like they’ve been sucker-punched in the gut.

Eda’s finally opened her eyes, still wet and gleaming with tears, and Raine can see just how vulnerable she is through them.

They’ve never seen her this vulnerable. Not when they first approached her in that corner at the I.F.W.O.T., or when they caught her alone at the lunch table on their first day at Hexside. Not when she first told them about her curse, or even when she begged them to protect her kids.

The Day of Unity, saving the world, everything else fades away. For the moment, those things don’t exist.

Raine can see what she’s mourning -- thirty-plus years of freedom, of playing by her own rules, of being the “Wild Witch of Bonesborough,” of standing up for what’s right and winning the good fight for herself.

Tonight, she lost. She lost the battle, the final blow there on her wrist, and she deserves to honor and mourn that sacrifice.

The Head of the Titan is still a ways off. They have time.

Raine trails their gaze back down to her wrist, this time intentionally tracing their thumb over the sigil before they raise Eda’s arm up and start planting the most tender kisses they can manage across it. They hear Eda choke back another quivering sob.

“I want...you to know...” they begin between kisses, “...that you...are...the bravest...person...I know.”

Once they’re sure they’ve covered every inch of skin and sigil with love and affection, Raine looks up again and gives a kiss to Eda’s nose, her forehead, and finally to her lips. It surprises them both, if they’re being honest--there’s an unspoken agreement between them that they’ll discuss their relationship after the Day of Unity, to avoid distractions, naturally (though they both know there’s very little to actually discuss at this point)--but Raine sees it if nothing else, at the very least, than as admiration and a promise, the same promise they made to Luz.

“T-there. Does that help a little?” Raine asks. They’re both blushing messes now and Eda is crying waterfalls, but the question does make her laugh despite herself, and Raine will gladly count that as a victory.

Eda nods a couple times, then leans her forehead against theirs. “Yeah, y-yeah it does, Rainestorm. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

They stay close together for a few moments more, Raine now holding Eda’s hand to their chest, sharing the rhythm of their heart.

Eventually, they guide Eda to sit on the floor of the airship with them to rest and let them wipe her tears away and just talk and think. They share worries; they share hopes.

And when Eda starts to let herself acknowledge the sigil more, turning it this way and that in the sunlight, Raine holds her a little tighter and hums their rhapsody-requiem into her hair.

Eda lost a battle to help win a war, and Raine will do anything, anything, to support her and honor that.

Anything for the bravest witch of all time.

#The Owl House #TOH #Eda Clawthorne #Raine Whispers #raeda #my fanfics #writing this was mostly spurred on by drawing an Eda from pre-sigil branding on Christmas Eve - I'll post that in the new year :)

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