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#let me be clear a quite a few feel excited to have her but not as excited as dylduke
dropsnectar · 2 days
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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader
PART TWO
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Some fluff and a little spice. Don't know if ill do the smut in part three or four, we will see how things develop. Either way it gets hot so! You were warned!
You woke up the next morning with a huge headache. Not a great start to a day where you were scheduled to do large batches of magic.
You swore as you got up, swore as you made your coffee, swore as you did some last minute rereading of the soil testing spell you already knew by heart.
You tried to nap, but couldn't get your sore muscles to relax, so Lyith found you in quite a disgruntled mood. He frowned.
“We can do this tomorrow if you are not feeling well. You smell like you are about to throw a fit.”
You shook your head and took a long, cleansing breath.
“I'm really fine. Im excited about meeting your friend though. Its not everyday you meet a Bee-man.” You cracked a small smile.
Lyith gave you one last appraising look before sighing and beckoning you out of the house. Once you were on the porch step he held out his arms. You stared at him, eyes raised.
“Uh, do you want another hug? For support or something?”
His nose flared and he seemed to be failing to keep a straight face.
“It'll be faster to fly you to the hive. Its a good five mile walk for you if we don't. And with so much to do, I doubt my friend is going to be patient with us.”
You blinked.
“Oh. Um. Okay.” Your heart tightened. You started to feel a little sick.
“If you are scared of heights, I will stay close to the ground. It is faster that way anyway.”
He reached forward and patted your head affectionately. “I don't have to dodge branches that way, so it is a… “win win”? That's how the saying goes, right?”
His hand stayed on your head and you had to admit it made you feel a little braver. His smile was so gentle, it sent a wave of calm through you. 
“Yeah I can do that.” You swallow and force the ends of your lips upwards. 
Lyith holds his arms out again, and you walk into them, letting him hoist you up, and take off. The sound of his wings were particularly loud now and you noticed it had a habit of spreading his lemony scent around. 
You quickly diverted your attention to the feeling of the wind stretching back your skin. Which only made you realize that Lyith had nuzzled his neck close to your own face. You had to admit that the warmth felt nice against the cold spring air. It may have been Lyiths own way of making sure you didn't freeze too much. Your mind lingered on his touch, which was acting like a scarf, in the face of rollercoaster-like winds. Your stomach turned.
It was only 6 minutes until Lyith dropped you off in a small glade. The clearings floor was covered in grasses and large orange flowers. The flowers themselves were funnel shaped with purple star like splotches in the middle. The air was fragrant. 
Lyith grabbed your arm gently. Out from the other side of the clearing came what could only be another bee-man. Lyiths face lit up and he floated upwards, making a few excitable jerking motions. The other Bee-men copied his motions and let out a lovely hum sound, which Lyith harmonized. The two both looked at you and Lyith started the introductions.
“This is the witch I was talking about. And this-” he gestured to the bee-man by giving them a clingy hug. “-is Rena. She is a scholar, and also looks after a quarter of these… gardens, is the term you use. She has given you permission to use magic in her garden.”
“Only if you show me you can help, that is. Witches are so rare these days. I have to measure your…” she seemed to be chewing the word, “Qual-it-ications?”
“Qualifications.” Corrected Lyith, adjust some Rena's long strawberry blond hair. She had the same big black eyes as Lyith, but her form was shorter. Sturdier. But just as fluffy. Unlike Lyith, she had a second pair of hands, which she had crossed over her chest. Her gaze was curious, but her nose was slightly wrinkled in concern.
“Lyith speaks human the best of us. You are lucky to have met such a good orator. Now. What is it that you exactly plan to do?” her voice was deep and textured, as she jutted out her jaw.
You paused for a moment and held up a hand. You rummaged through your bag and pulled out some twine and popsicle sticks.
Lyith bit his lip like he was trying not to smile. Rena laughed openly. “You wish to do an art project?”
“No. If we are going to do this right, we need to be careful. I want to do experiments. First, we section three groups of flowers far away from each other so as not to contaminate eachotger. We use the twine and sticks to section those area off. Then, we do one group for the quick-grow powder, one group for the fertility spell, and one group of both. We will then keep track of them, and you guys will see which one keeps the most magic. You guys can tell magic quality by taste right?”
Rena nodded back at you, her expression a bit surprised. You continue.
“Ideally, we would have four different glens of these same flowers to compare. I'm not sure if the magic will be affected by rainwater. But I feel like it's a solid idea. Whichever works better for nectar quality, is what I'll use in case of emergency. If the fertility spell works properly, I can then help you guys grow your fields. But we wanna make sure that my magic is compatible with the flowers and your guyses nectar. I don't wanna accidentally poison you guys or something.” You scratch the back of your head awkwardly.
Lyith smiled over at Rena, who was nodding as she seemed to be thinking.
“Tell you what, ill give you two glens. One for your powder, one for the fertility spell. At one end of the both the glens you can do both. Sound good?”
You smiled. “Fantastic.”
From their, the three of you got to work sectioning off the ends of the glade. Rena herself flew off and sectioned the other glade herself, while you tested the soil. After the third time of getting the same reading, you calculated your powder amount. It was very important to get the amounts right. If you got it wrong, they would get one huge flower, and a comatose witch all at once. 
You did your spell, and it seemed to work, a more potent smell sweeping through the clearing. You continued your work, taking your time to channel your power as not to stress yourself out and mess with results. You were flown to the other glen, and did your thing. 
When you were finished, one clearings wildflowers had grown their reach twice as far, and the other flowers had grown to be the size of a human head. But it was the combination spell that really seemed to excite Rena. The flower's hue had changed from mostly orange, to mostly purple, and the scent had shifted to something headier.
“These more closely resemble the flowers of old! And they smell perfectly nutritious!”
Lyith chirped in. “The real test is to see how they will age. We don't know how long the magic will last. If the soil will breed more.”
You smile. “Thats what the experiments for. We wait, and each week you tell me if the magic quality has gone down.” 
Admiring the flowers, Rena grabbed one and flew towards you. She put the flower in your hands, then motioned to you as if it was a teacup. “Drink.”
Experimentally you tipped the flower to your mouth. A hint of nectar trickled in. It was sweet, but unlike your normal honeysuckle, their seemed to be a kick to it. Your gaze went back to Rena. She gave you a knowing smile. “Thats what your magic tastes like. It will make such good honey. Thank you.”
With that she leapt forward and gave you a huge hug. She smelled citrusy too, but in a different way, almost tropical. Her hair tickled your neck and ears, as she purred in contentment. She stayed there for a minute longer, seemingly giving you a warm nuzzle before pulling away. It wasn't until she did so that you were able to register how tired and sore your body was. You were shivering. The cold was getting to you now.
Lyith noticed immediately and drew himself close to you. “Is it too cold? I knew we should have waited a day. You've overdone it.” He then threw his arms around you, and started rubbing your arms, your back. He was using the friction and closeness to bring you warmth. It was innocent, but your cheeks warmed just a little too quickly. 
Rena watched and grabbed onto your free arm. “You'll get manasick at this rate. I've got a shelter nearby. Its no hive, but the heat will do you some good.” It seemed that Rena had decided she liked you, because she kissed your cheek twice before motioning the three of you onward.
Lyiath took you up in his arms again, the pressure of his touch much more intense. 
Its just to maintain heat. You tried to convince yourself. 
You had spent a lot more time spellcasting then you thought, as you noticed the sun was starting to set behind the trees. You tried to get Lyiths attention, perhaps you should be heading home instead, but it was very hard to do as you guys were hurtling through the air at 20mph. 
You passed through a few more fields of flowers then made it to a small structure. It was an off-white, sort of oblong shed. It truly looked like some human sized animal cocoon. There was a ridge, which Rena pulled away using her glowing light magic. 
When you all went inside, you were glad to find the structure warm. Light radiated from the ceiling, as if their was a glowing cloud above. In the middle of the room was a yellow orb that radiated heat. There wasn't much else in the room except for… a beanbag chair? 
Rena saw you staring and gushed, “I saw it in a shop window on one of our grocery trips! You humans make the silliest things sometimes!! Look!!” She maneuvered you over and onto it with relative ease. The cushion was heaven to your aching limbs. That, coupled with the radiating heat from the orb, started to make you relax. Sleepy even.
Lyith and Rena took their seats on the floor next to you, seeming comfortable. The room was full of light that made their black eyes shine. Lyith, looked at you with concern, and started fussing over you, pulling your sleeves over your wrists and inching you closer to the orb. 
“You haven't eaten since lunch! Its already dusk.” he tutted, pulling your hair over onto one shoulder. He always had this habit of touching you whenever he could. It must be a Bee-man trait.
You looked over at Rena, who had decided to pass the time by examining your fingers; Then lacing them with hers. Her antennas were twitching about in an adorable way, meaning she must have been pleased. You let her touch you, happy for the companionship. If a human had touched you as much as Rena and Lyith did, you would be beyond flustered, but for some reason, the two of them made you feel safe. Comfortable. 
“I might have an old granola bar in my bag.” You volunteered groggily. Lyith took the bag from your lap and started going through it carefully. You spent that time marveling over just how cute he was. His fluff, more pronounced around the neck and chest, seemed even more fluffy after all the high speed flying. A part of you just wanted to go over and hug him like a big teddy bear. Affection filled your heart.
“No, I don't see anything.” He frowned, rearranging everything back into your bag.
Rena clasped your hand harder, you looked over and saw her smile at you.
“Oh thats fine, I still have some nectar I collected from earlier. Do you want some?” She batted her eyelashes.
Lyith quirked an eyebrow, before staring “ Rena-”
Without waiting for an answer, Rena moved forward and brought her lips to yours, locking in a tight kiss. Too shocked to move, you felt her tongue on yours, then a sudden rush of sweetness. It kept coming, filling your mouth until you were forced to swallow it down. You sputtered, whole body now hot.
“I-wah?” 
Lyith looked like he was trying to contain his laughter. “Rena doesn't spend much time with humans, please forgive her. But just know that sharing nectar this way is very normal for us.” Despite this, a glint of mischief started to twinkle in his eyes, a smirk on his lips.
“ Oooh um really?” You sputter.
He nodded. “You didn't get a lot to drink though. I took some nectar from your garden before I picked you up. Would you like to try it? The magic will refortify you.”
He bent over until he was eye level with you. His eyes went to your lips, then back up to your gaze. You swallowed quickly, opening your mouth to say… something? But Lyith took this as an invitation, pushing his lips to yours. His mouth tasted sweet even before the nectar came. And this somehow was better. Just like the nectar from the flower earlier, there was a small tartness, a bite.
Lyith held you close to himself, the pressure of his body pleasant. A warmth started to curl in your stomach as he pulled you even closer, tipping you back into Rena, who embraced you from behind as you drank. You somehow managed to swallow as he pushed your lips together even tighter, his tongue teasing yours as he fed you. 
You were not sure how long this went on. But you knew you were full, and you were dizzy when he finally pulled away, his eyes glassy. His gaze was heated as he stared you down. It was as if he might change his mind and eat you up himself. You gasped for breath, eyes fixed on him. The room was filled with purring noises from both of them. You could feel the vibrations through both of their chests. You swallowed thickly.
After what felt like an eternity, Lyith straightened himself up and his expression changed to one of laughter. He giggled then bumped his forehead against yours affectionately. Rena gave a little giggle herself then a hum behind you.
“If you're feeling better now, can we fly you home?” Lyith offered. You nodded dumbly, still shaking off the heavy atmosphere which had now turned light. You mumbled your goodbye to Rena, and explained you'd be back in a week to check on the progress of the flowers. She beamed and gave you another hug. Whatever reservations she had had about you in the beginning seemed to be gone now. You gave her one last wave before letting Lyith scoop you up again for the third time today. 
The ride home went by in a flash. The moon shone light onto your porch as he dropped you off. 
“I'll be back tomorrow for your garden.” He breathed, his face the same happy calm it usually was. His antennas twitched as you nodded at him. He leaned foreward and kissed your cheek.
“Get some rest. You did good today.” He didn't wait for an answer before he flew off into the night. 
You knew he had probably been referring to all the magic you had been working today, but a part of you hoped that maybe he had been referring to something else. You slapped your cheeks. 
“Hes a Bee-man.” You tried to remind yourself. You repeated it a few more times that night, as if it would help with your stupid warming cheeks, and pooling gut.
***
Part Three
Hi everybody! This part was a bit longer than the others but I hope you enjoy! So it turns out that bees do kiss! They share food and information this way through a process called trophallaxis. Hope that doesn't ruin the mood for you. Anywho, thanks for reading!
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cerealbishh · 1 year
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"It's like I can have every part of you except what I really want." "Which is?" "Your heart."
🎥: @starcuffedjeans
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lqvesoph · 21 days
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Brother’s best friend || LN4
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gif by @princemick
summary: you’re carlos’ sister and know lando from your brothers time at mclaren but now a few years later feelings might change
a/n: this is literally just a small piece i wrote a few weeks ago
warnings: bit of suggestive talk, alcohol
taglist | masterlist
"When did he get so fine?", you whispered to Rebecca who nipped at her cocktail. "Hmm?", she asked, not having paid attention.
You nodded over to Lando who stood behind the DJ desk, white shirt and headphones on.
Rebecca smirked. "Go over", she said, pinching your side softly. You shook your head. "I can't, you know I can't. If Carlos finds out- and besides I don't think Lando would-", you stopped when you saw Rebecca looking at you with her brows furrowed and a be-fucking-for-real look.
"What??", you defended yourself. "That boy has been crushing on you since 2019, Carlos scared him away back then but I doubt he'll still listen now. He's not 19 anymore", Rebecca told you.
Your heart skipped a beat when she told you but you tried to ignore it. "He's still Carlos' best mate, he won't just betray his trust like that", you shook your head and took another sip from your straw while glancing over to Lando.
"Just get the fuck up and talk to him, it's exhausting watching you two admire each other from afar", Rebecca laughed and pushed you a little.
"Wait he's looking at me as well?", you asked, getting a little excited. She nodded. "Yes, as soon as you're not looking- now for example", she explained.
You turned your head to meet Lando's green eyes piercing into yours through the dark room of people.
You nodded, gripped your drink a little tighter and stood up.
"Hey", you called over the loud music, leaning over next to the DJ desk. Lando smirked and wriggled his brows as a way to greet you.
He asked you something but you couldn't quite make it out and only looked at him with a head shake and a lost expression.
Lando leaned over the desk so his lips were close to your ear. His necklace, hanging down from his neck, being the only thing you could focus on.
"What's in your drink?", he asked, his hot breath meeting your ear. "Vodka Lemon", you called into his ear. Lando leaned back a little and held out his hand, signaling you that he wanted to try a sip.
You knew 2019 Lando never liked alcohol, in fact you couldn't recall a time where you've ever seen him drink. But you wordlessly handed him your glass and let the boy take a sip.
To your surprise he didn't grimace in disgust but took another sip. You reached out for your glass again. "Heyy, get yourself your own", you joked.
Lando laughed and carefully handed you the glass once again, his fingers lightly touching yours.
"You ever stood behind a DJ desk?", he asked, pointing to the mess of buttons next to him. You shook your head.
He held one hand out and wriggled his fingers. "Come on then", he demanded with a smirk and led you to the side where you could enter the private space.
"It's okay, I know her", he told the guy standing next to the small entrance before pushing the hip-high door open and let you in.
"Mi amor", he joked and took your hand. You chuckled and followed him.
"It's so many buttons!", you called into his ear, gracing his cheek slightly with the tip of your nose. His arm draped around your shoulders.
From the close distance you saw his slightly flushed cheeks and glaced eyes, along with the messy curls better than before.
"Come on I'll show you", Lando laughed and handed you the pair of headphones from his head.
He carefully put them over one of your ears, leaving the other free so he could still talk to you. Then Lando grabbed your hand and placed one finger on one of the buttons.
A loud remix-like sound arised and you flinched a little because you could hear it much louder and more clear through the headphones.
"That's so cool!", you called and pushed the button again.
Lando's left arm was still wrapped around your shoulders, his right hand was holding yours and guiding you to press the right buttons in the right moments.
You didn't notice but from across the room your brother starred Lando down with his glares.
"Why is he standing so close to her? He's way too close", he grumbled, taking a sip from his straw. "Let loose, they're not kids anymore", Rebecca smiles, wrapping one arm around Carlos' waist.
"She's 20", he defended you. "Exactly, she's not a child anymore", Rebecca talked to him in a smooth voice.
Carlos nodded but a frown was still visible on his face.
"Why is he touching her like this?", he asked after a few seconds of silence, pointing to Lando's hand that was wandering lower on your back. "Carlos, stop it", Rebecca chuckled and pulled him down on the couch, next to her.
A shiver went down your back when you felt Lando's fingers pushing themselves slightly under your crop top. You leaned into him a little further.
"What are you doing?", Lando softly mumbled in your ear, his hot breath hitting my skin. "What do you mean?", you asked, acting oblivious but pushing yourself further into him.
Lando closed his eyes for a second and his grip tightened around your waist. "Darling-", he hissed. "Lando", you whispered back. "Your brother is watching us really carefully right now", he mumbled against your neck.
"Then let's leave", you suggested, your heart beating because you didn't know if you went to far but Lando's low groan gave you confirmation that he was more than okay to leave.
You quickly put down the headphones that Lando had previously placed on your head. You grabbed his hand and he immediately linked your fingers, his hand feeling warm in your own.
"Cabrón!", you heard a voice yell behind you, immediately recognizing it as your brothers.
"Run!", you whispered but reacted too late as Carlos had already grabbed Lando’s shoulder. "Where do you think you’re going?", he asked, a stern impression on his face.
"Barbados, so we can get married in secret", you replied, rolling your eyes at your older brother. Lando suppressed a giggle and raised his arms when Carlos eyes landed on him again.
"Just taking her out for a spin, I promise I’ll get her back in one piece", the curly headed driver said, standing his ground under the watchful eyes of Carlos Sainz.
Your brother kept mustering the boy until you snapped your fingers in front of his face. "Cut it off, I’m not a kid", you scolded your brother before grabbing Lando’s hand.
"We’re leaving, I’ll see you tomorrow", you yelled back towards your brother and dragged Lando out behind you.
As soon as the fresh air hit your face you turned around to face Lando, still having his hand in yours. "I heard you’re taking me for a ride?", you grinned.
"You know that was an excuse", he laughed but moved towards his car. "Figured, but I won’t pass up on the opportunity to take a ride in your Mclaren", you giggled, turning around and leaning your back against the car. "I might just use you for your car", you smiled innocently.
Lando smirked and came closer, his knee pushing between your legs and his lips almost touching yours.
"Careful, I said I’ll bring you back in one piece, I never said anything about your ability to walk", he muttered, grabbing your waist firmer and pressing his lips on yours.
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arabellasleopardcoat · 4 months
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To Conquer (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.
Warnings: Mentions of sex. Cursing. Arranged marriage. Periods. Daddy issues. Religious guilt. One death aside from canon ones (Daemon murders a man)
A/N: In which I rewrite the scene of my first encounter with incest in a book. If you get it, you get it.
YOU NEVER dared call Alicent mother out loud. But in your mind, she was.
The woman who had birthed you had passed away the same day you had been born. Out of her womb you had been pulled, alongside your twin. He had not survived the day.
Queen Aemma Arryn was a mere name to you, a woman who existed in paintings and shadows, a ghost that lurked on the Red Keep. Your father never once spoke of her too you, too consumed by guilt and grief. In fact, he did his best to never speak to you at all.
You were an uncomfortable reminder of the crime he had committed. Robbing a woman of life so a man may live. It hadn’t even worked in the end. Your brother had faded from this world, nothing of him remaining.
Against all odds, you had. You had clung to life, the Maesters would later say. Fought tooth and nail to stay in this world. And somehow, it hadn’t been enough. Your father avoided you like the plague, but Alicent, guilty, scared, lonely Alicent, did not. She was all you had.
You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Despite your dramatic entrance to the world, and your eventful first few months of life, your life had turned out to be quite lackluster. There were no exciting adventures or claiming of dragons, much less a moniker attached to your name like there was to Rhaenyra or Daemon. You wondered why this, out of all things, had to be different.
The robes looked graceful enough on you, you supposed. Your father had called you a true Valyrian beauty, the very image of your mother. You knew it wasn’t true. King Viserys didn’t remember her. How could he, if he had done his best attempts to erase her? He had replaced her at once, and he never once spoke of her again. At least, not with you.
His presence in your life could be defined with one word: Absence. But he had thought it fair to reappear when he needs you to do something for him. The least he could have done would have been asking for your input about the wedding.
If you had been asked, you would have chosen a traditional wedding ceremony, with a Septon and a hand fasting. You would have worn a Targaryen cloak… To be exchanged for another Targaryen cloak. No. Perhaps it had been for the best, not to desecrate such a beautiful ritual with this nonsense.
Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of not being really married. You didn’t like it. And you liked the man who was waiting for you on the other side of the door much less.
“Are you done, niece?” The knock on the door forced you into action, once again. You reached into the basin, watching the cool water shift under your fingers. There was something about the cold that cleared your head, helped you think. You took a deep breath, and tried to focus.
Alicent had told you that you should obey him in all things. That you had to do your duty, just as she had done hers. But you had seen the fear in her eyes when you were getting ready for the ceremony, and how her hands had grasped at you desperately during the feast. It had taken Ser Otto’s intervention to make her let go of you.
Your bedtime stories had not prepared either of you for this. When you were a young girl, plagued by night terrors, she would sit at the foot of your bed and pretend to read your destiny.
“One day, you will fly to the moon wearing spiderwebs as wings.” She would squint at your hand, making a show of reading the lines there.
“Tell me more!” You would squeal, fears forgotten. Despite not being the motherly type, she would always indulge you. Perhaps, because she saw herself in you. Another little girl, her mother dead, her father defined by his lack of presence.
“It says here…” Alicent would tickle your palm. “That you will grow up into a beautiful, beautiful princess who will marry a handsome lord. He will love you very much.”
Out of all the lies you had been told, it was your favorite. Each night, you would ask to hear it again and again, and think, tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I will be all grown, and the lady of a great castle. My father will love me then.
It had been a consolation you had clung on through all your childhood. You were a princess, worthy of being appreciated by your future husband. He would love you, you knew. You would build something together, something only yours. You would raise your children to be better than you, following Alicent’s example. You would be happy.
You had never realized how much she had clung to that thought too. Her frustrated dreams for herself had been turned into hope for your future. Alicent had spoken them into the night like an enchantment, as if she could bring them to life by repeating the words over and over. So you could have what she hadn’t had. Like all parents wished.
What both of you had imagined wasn't this. You wanted to scream from rage.
“Just a bit more.” You said, your resolve hardening. The faith of the Seven dictated that laying with a relative was a sin, the same for laying with a man who was not your husband. They barely recognized Valyrian wedding ceremonies.
Had you really married him? Your High Valyrian was sloppy. Your mother had not taught you much, and your lessons had often been interrupted because of Aegon. Out of all your siblings, Aemond had been the most proficient one. He had not been present at the ceremony, being judged too young to attend.
It had been your parents, Daemon, Aegon. An intimate ceremony, just as they liked. Could your father betray you so? Give you away as a whore to appease his brother?
You opened the table’s drawers. Daemon’s bathing room was unfamiliar to you, but he must have used something to shave and you would find it. You riffled through various oils and soaps before finding the blade you were seeking.
With your non-dominant hand, you bunched the robes up. Bracing yourself, you used your other hand to slit your upper thigh. At first, you didn’t draw blood, despite feeling the sting of the blade. Your grip was too shaky. But your determination didn’t waver. Your father had asked too much of you already, there was no power in the world that could force you to share your Uncle’s bed.
Your second attempt was much more successful. Despite having tensed the muscles of your thigh anticipating pain, it didn’t hurt as much as you expected. Blood rushed out. You grabbed a rag and rubbed it on it. You examined it, coldly. No matter how Valyrian, you bled red, like any Andal.
You schooled yourself into faux embarrassment before you spoke.
“Could you… Husband…. Could you fetch my mother?”
Despite your calculations, you make the mistake regardless. The noun slips from your tongue, unprompted. A slip. The first of many to come. The temperature dropped in the room, Daemon’s anger a near palpable thing.
“Your mother is dead, niece.” He stressed the last word in a way you didn’t like. Despite the door separating the two of you, you could tell his mood had shifted from bad to something much worse. You feared what he might do to you, were you to backtrack in your plan. “Whatever Alicent has been teaching you, you should know you are not hers.”
“Queen Alicent.” You corrected, annoyed. How did he dare criticize the way she had raised you, when there had been literally no one else around up to the task. How did he dare speak down to you, as if you were a simpleton? You fought to keep your tone steady and stomped on the anger bubbling up. “I have… lady troubles.”
“Lady troubles?” Daemon asked, sounding puzzled.
You pondered the merits of skirting around the issue. You weren’t in the mood to enter a euphemism’s discussion, and so, decided to be more graphic.
The bloody rag was held gently between your fingers when you opened the door. No more words were needed. Daemon cursed and went to get your mother.
HE DOESN’T dare ask at first. Daemon understands that women’s bodies work different from his own. He has never bedded one in her moonblood, and doesn’t intend to start with you.
Despite your beauty, Daemon felt oddly disappointed. He had hoped, with you being fully Rhaenyra’s sister and not half, like his younger nephews, that you would be similar to her.
You weren’t. You lacked her fierceness and the respect for your heritage. The only thing Valyrian about you was your looks. You didn’t even have a dragon of your own, and were so damn timid, he might confuse you with a mouse rather than a Princess.
Because of that same reason, he let you be during your moonblood. While Daemon didn’t object to some blood, he doubted you would be the same. Bedding unwilling maidens wasn’t his thing. He preferred his girls willing, be it from the promise of coin or delirious from their own lust.
Somehow, he was getting the feeling you weren’t going to be the second type anytime soon. Every time he attempted to kiss you, you squirmed away, as if he were initiating something sinful and not simply trying to kiss his wife.
“Seven Hells, would it kill you to remain still?” He asked as you nervously avoided his grip on your waist. “I am not trying to initiate anything. I know you are still on your courses. Stand still. I command it.”
“I… I…” You had looked at him, all hesitant eyes. Alicent had done scarcely any things right when raising you, but at least she had instilled you obedience. But blood couldn’t be denied, and every so often your Valyrian nature reared its head. Mostly, playing against Daemon rather than in his favor. Little dragon that you were, you weren’t keen on following orders.
Ah, but bring you a Septa. Then you were jumping out of your seat to offer the damn woman your chair and observing her earnestly for non-verbal cues, tending to her every need like a commoner. Ridiculous.
“The Mother obeys the Father, from what I understand.” Daemon kept his tone matter of fact. He wasn’t certain that the Seven Pointed Star said that, but it sounded right, and it suited him, so he spoke the words with as much conviction as he could muster. In truth, Daemon had never opened the damn book in his life. A waste of time. The Septons he knew were a bunch of cunts and their followers weren’t any better.
“Maidens are supposed to be demure.” You protested. “Not indulge on indecent displays.”
“You are not meant to be a maiden any longer.” He grabbed you by the waist regardless, coaxing you to stroll next to him. “And wives obey their husbands.”
While you remained unconvinced, you allowed him to lead you around the Red Keep’s gardens. He kept a constant stream of chatter, using all his best lines, but you answered in monosyllables. Not only did Daemon wish to cultivate a better relationship with you, but he also wanted to flaunt his new bride. It was only fair that the other cunts here got a look at Targaryen superiority. Kept them from being too uppity.
Like everything else in this marriage, though, that too proved elusive. Soon, whispers began to circulate about his virility. One of your maids had a loose tongue, it seemed. The whole castle was snickering about it not even a week later. You, like usual, were oblivious.
In a fit of anger Daemon would later not be proud of, he got all the little chits whipped. But their attitudes about your moonblood made him begin to suspect something was amiss. A fortnight of bleeding seemed… Strange. While he was never particularly interested in women’s bodies beyond fucking them, something had to be wrong. An inquiry with the Maester proved him right. Apparently, over a week was unusual, a fortnight near impossible.
That night, he sat on the foot of your shared bed, watching you fret around the room. Daemon had asked for shared chambers, thinking it would bring the two of you closer. With his constant exiles and marriages, and the fact that Alicent had coddled you during your whole existence, you were a stranger with a familiar face. He had hoped to entice you by appealing to your curiosity about marital duties. Safe to say, it didn’t work.
You had put up barriers. Both metaphorical and physical ones. Right now, you were at it again. Laying down a towel on your side of the bed and a pillow in the middle of it. As he watched you, he found himself struck by the beauty of your hands. They were firm and precise in their movements, fixing down the towel and then neatly delimiting your side of the bed with the pillow.
You were wearing the most hideous nightshirt know to man, more adequate for a Septa than a newlywed. Slightly bent over, fluffing up your pillows, Daemon noticed that it was as white as fresh snow. Now that he thought of it, all your shifts were. And yet, none of them had ever been stained. Nor had the towel you placed on the bed and loudly proclaimed it was to avoid leakages. An effort to make yourself more unappealing, perhaps?
Somehow, the realization didn’t anger him. Instead, it made him more curious. Was this your way of rebelling? Were you scared? What went on behind your eyes, inside that skull of yours?
“Wife.” Daemon finally spoke, when you were starting to kneel for your nightly prayers. You paused, kneeling gracefully. You looked up at him, all curious eyes and nervous smile. “Have your courses always been this long?”
This time, he watches your reaction closely. During these past days, Daemon has not pressured you about it. But now, he waits on bated breath.
Your eyes widen. The hands you have clasped in prayer get even tighter pressed together.
“Oh, you shouldn’t… These are womanly concerns.” You are a terrible liar. He would laugh, were it not such a cruel thing to do when in the face of a little fool.
“I insist.” Daemon arches an eyebrow at you. You squirm on your knees like there are ants on your shift. You are visibly distraught. Does it pain you, pious girl that you are, to be committing a sin?
“Yes, they are.”
Another lie. He had asked some of the fools in Viserys’ employment. Yours didn’t last more than a week. But Daemon finds all the twitching you are doing entertaining, and so, decides to give you more rope to hang yourself.
“And yet, your father promised that you were fertile.” He drawls, cruel amusement almost leaking into his tone. He can’t help the way his lips twitch. This is too entertaining. It’s like toying with a mouse before eating it.
“I… I am.” You weakly defend yourself. Your face is looking more distressed by the second. And is that..? Oh, wonderful, you are starting to sweat a little.
“No, you are not. You are either lying about that, or about your moonblood.”
“I am not!” You protest, finally getting up from your kneeling position. A shame. You looked positively delicious in your predicament.
“Yes, you are! But I am giving you a chance to tell me the truth. Which one are you lying about?”
“I am not.” You look about to flee the room, so Daemon gets up and places himself on your path. You flinch a bit, but stubbornly refuse to admit the truth. His amusement at your attitude is starting to turn sour. Not only it is unflattering that you are making up excuses to avoid bedding him, but they are so stupid half the court is laughing at him behind his back about it. And you, absolute fool, can’t admit it.
“Wrong answer, niece.” He steps closer, trying to intimidate you. “I know the truth.”
“You do?” You startle. You take a step back, nearly tripping on the hem of that ugly nightgown. Daemon reaches to steady you, his grip on your arms punishingly. You twitch, as if sensing that you are caught in the maws of a hungry beast that could pounce at any moment.
“You are not on your moonblood. You can't be every single day of the moon!” He shakes you a little, making you yelp. But then, the most astounding thing happens. Because instead of going very still, as the frightened bird that you are, you shove him hard.
“What would you know!” You scream at him, pointing one finger at his face. Daemon wishes to say he is unbothered by your hysterics, but instead, he grabs your accusing hand and tugs it. The delicate bones shift inside his hand, threatening to snap, and you're left with no choice but go towards him or break your finger.
Wisely, you choose the second. You are breathing hard, and looking up at him in righteous indignation.
“Brute!”
“I asked your maids.” Daemon smirks at you, something ugly appearing on his face. In truth, whatever you see spooks you because you deflate a little. “So? Shall you tell me the truth? Or must I find it myself?”
He makes it as if to lift your shift. You bat his hand away, hard. Interesting enough, you harden then.
“What else is there to know? Beyond that I am not on my moonblood?”
“We can start with why you lied. Or why you don’t wish to lay with me.” Daemon suggests, gripping you tightly so you cannot escape. He brings his face closer to yours.
Your eyes are wide. Your face is frozen into a terrified expression, like you are realizing all your lies are catching up to you.
“I didn’t want you to force me.” You say, voice barely a whisper. Who do you think he is? Some sort of monster? Your depraved half brother, perhaps? Daemon had already heard the exploits that one was up to. Jerking off in a window, of all things.
“Force you! If I wanted to force you, I could already have.” Daemon rolls his eyes. You were not trained in any sort of combat, and you were the kind who had her head in the clouds more often than not. You were not a match for him. If Daemon wanted to force you, he just had to pin you down or pull out Dark Sister.
You stay quiet, perhaps coming to the same realization. You have gone to bed next to him for nearly two weeks, only in thin shifts. Every day, you have woken up untouched. Doubt starts to cloud up your face, as if you are noticing how vulnerable you truly have been and how well Daemon has behaved.
As if he were going to be deterred by a little blood. He was a true Targaryen. It was in his house’s words. Plenty of maidens bled when being split open on his cock. Your moonblood would not be very different.
Daemon decides to appeal to your more… Hightower side. Perhaps that would get you to yield to him. He uses his more Otto-like tone, trying to sound as cunty as possible.
“It’s your duty.”
You shake your head, frantically.
“We can’t. It's not right. You are my uncle.”
Your words are spoken with such conviction, he has to fight the urge to scream. That was your problem? You? A daughter of the house of the dragon, complaining about incest?
“It is not unprecedented. Our whole line begins because Aegon the conqueror had his sister wives. And then, Maegor married his niece, too.” Daemon’s words are sharp. He lets go of you and starts to pace the room. Good Gods, what had Alicent done to you? Had she twisted your mind so, you now thought marrying him was wrong because you were related?
“And their marriage was cursed. No child was born out of their union.” You reply, with an ugly smile. He wants to slap it out of your little face. Smug little girl, thinking she knows everything about the world.
“Jaehaerys married his sister, the Good Queen Alyssane. They had plenty of children.” He insists, trying to get you to notice the flaws in your argument. Everyone knew that the only way to preserve the Valyrian bloodline was by marrying other Valyrians. Otherwise, the magic in their blood would dilute, and they would no longer be able to claim dragons. It was common sense.
“All of them turned out very… queer.”
“My parents..!” But you interrupt him before he can finish.
“Exceptionally queer, too.”
Daemon feels his face heating up. No one before has managed to infuriate him so. He wants to shake some sense into you. His hands itch for something to punish you with. Impudent little thing, daring to suggest his parents had been queer!
Queer! The queer one here was you! A Targaryen who opposed incest!
“Listen here, you awful little…”
“Stop that. Stop insulting me, by the Seven. You won’t change my mind.” You raise one of your hands, in the universal halt sign. “I will never share your bed.”
At that, Daemon thinks actual steam must be coming out of his ears. Never. As if. You would change your mind, he knows it. No one can resist him for long. He is experienced, charming, and handsome. A prince and a true dragon. What more could anyone want?
He would make you regret your words. He would show you. Under all your repressed, Hightower ways, you were a dragon. Targaryen blood ran thick. Daemon would have you eating out of the palm of his hand before you could realize. Before, he hadn’t really been trying. But now? He was ready for war.
“Come here.” He orders. You stare at him, and do not move. “You will disobey me in this, too?”
You step closer, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I wish to make a deal.” Daemon says. You cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to bed me if you don’t want to. But you will have to give me something in exchange.”
“What?” You tap your foot against the floor, impatiently. Yet your face, as always, betrays you. His offer has made you lower your guard, interested in what he has to say. Probably because you are seeing a way out of this whole issue.
“I want you to let me be as affectionate as I wish with you.”
“Fine.” You snarl at him, trying to look fierce. But you are too new to this game of pretending for Daemon to not see through your mask. You are confused.
He steps closer. He gathers you into his arms, and hugs you.
At first, you tense. Your arms remain glued to your sides, body stiff in his arms. Daemon enjoys the feel of it regardless. You smell like innocence, sweet and young. Your body is soft and feminine, nothing like the hard muscles of his first wife. He allows himself to relax into you.
Eventually, your body sags a bit. You relax into the hug.
“I wish… I wish….” You start speaking, face hidden in his shoulder. Daemon doesn’t let go. His gut tells him that whatever you are going to say, it is important. “I wish I wasn’t ashamed. And that… In our wedding ceremony, I would have liked to know what was being said.”
Daemon’s heart aches. His poor little Hightower, denied of her birthright. And then, a giant grin spreads on his face. Here it was. The opportunity he needed.
“I will teach you.” Daemon whispers, against your hair. He kisses it. It’s a lovely thing, an icy blonde that doesn’t fit your warm personality. Now that you are not fighting him, he is starting to notice you are very sweet natured. “I promise.”
“You will?” You look up at him, wary. “And what will the price be?”
Daemon chuckles.
“No price.” He caresses the bridge of your nose, tracing your features. You seem bashful at the attention, and it is so adorable, he can’t help but kiss you.
You startle. All coltish, you nearly elbow him in your haste to move away.
“What are you doing? We said no bedding!”
“I know.” Daemon smiles at you, indulgently. Now is the time to tread carefully, less you spook, and he ends up losing all his progress. “I just want to kiss my wife. Affection, for the sake of it. Kissing doesn’t need to lead to anything.”
You nod. You don’t seem convinced. But he soon discovers your hesitance comes from something else.
“I have never kissed anyone.” You whisper, almost ashamed.
“Then let me teach you that too.” And he is leaning in, and capturing your mouth with his.
“I GOT you something.” Daemon suddenly says, one morning. You lift your gaze from your book, an historic account about the doom of old Valyria, and watch him with curious eyes.
Your husband is carrying a bundle of cloth on his arms. He is back from his usual shenanigans in the city. Betting and drinking, but no longer any whoring, he assures you. The Lord of Flea Bottom is no more, or so he says.
It is quite early. You have just broke your fast with your mother, after the two of you did your morning prayers together. It is a ritual you find great comfort in, despite Daemon doing his best to discourage you. He doesn’t like that you worship the Faith of the Seven.
He has grown slightly more tolerant of Alicent as time goes by. You cannot say the same for her. Despite the fact that Daemon treats you well, she still can’t seem to get over the fact that he is Daemon Targaryen, the same man who had terrorized her father, courted her best friend and possibly murdered his last wife.
The bundle of clothes moves in Daemon’s arms. You place your book down, and creep closer, wondering about its contents. It’s then that you hear it. A soft, quiet mewl.
A grin spreads across your face. You cross the distance between the two of you, and watch as a small paw reaches out from the cloth, flexing its tiny claws. It is covered in white fur, the cushions on the bottom of it a soft pink.
“A kitten!” You say, delighted. You take it from Daemon and cradle it against you. The kitten can’t be older than a few weeks. His eyes are already open, a cloudy gray that takes your breath away. It’s love at first sight. “Oh, husband, thank you!”
“I saw it when I was coming back this morning. Thought you would like the damn thing.” Daemon says, gruffly. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I will name him… Quicksilver!” You say, cheerily. It makes his lips twitch a bit, unable to hide his amusement. This week, Daemon has been helping you practice your High Valyrian by reading a more recent text, accounting the times of King Aerys.
The language practice has brought the two of you closer. You are no longer as resentful or scared of him as you once were. You spend nearly all your evenings with him, pouring over gigantic tomes written in the language of your ancestors. Daemon patiently corrects your pronunciation, teaching you the right way of rolling the vocals, and how to accentuate your consonants.
You would have never thought you would enjoy learning so much. He is a very compelling teacher, clearly passionate about the subject yet stern enough to make you do all your assignments before their due date. Daemon is patient and encouraging, willing to explain things to you over and over again until you understand them fully.
The kitten yawns, showing a row of tiny white teeth and a pink tongue. You coo.
“Tiny but fierce.” Daemon smirks. “The Seven preserve us all.”
“How pious.” You tease, and Daemon steps closer. He grabs your waist and pulls you in for a kiss, Quicksilver still in your arms.
Despite having kissed him many times before now, you feel as weak to his advances as you had felt the first time he had kissed you. Daemon kisses like he is conquering, nipping at your lower lip until you open for him, and taking complete ownership of your mouth. His hands grasp at your nape, holding you against him. There is no escape from his kisses, and it fills you with a thrill you had never expected to feel before. Daemon wants you. He desires you, as a man desires a woman. There is no headier feeling than that.
At first, you had thought he was lonely. Why else would he ask for affection, when he was able to ask for anything else from you? That night, when he had found out you had been lying to him, Daemon could have asked for anything, done anything to you. Not a man in the realm would have judged him for it.
His behavior after that only seemed to confirm it. When the two of you were in public, his hands would linger on you, as if fearing you would leave his side. When someone told a funny joke, his eyes would seek yours before laughing, making sure you were still there.
It was an urge you understood too well. Abandonment was something you had learned to fear as well. Your mother had left you unwillingly. Your father and sister had both been eager to wash their hands from you. You guessed Daemon’s life had been a bit like that, too. From what you had heard, his mother had passed when he was a child. Your father had grown tired of him. And your sister… Well. That had been his fault.
When you grew up like that, you clung to every kindness, to every slice of warmth you could get. It was no wonder Daemon clung to you as hard as he did. It was difficult to live like that, not knowing what kindness feels like, grasping desperately to any scraps of it until you can almost piece together what the real thing feels like.
Despite having all reasons not to, Daemon’s attention never turned suffocating. Perhaps, you too, were starved for affection. You had gone your whole life with no positive male attention, being overshadowed by your sister and forced into almost a Septa-like life by your mother. His touches were never beyond the proper attention a man would show his wife in public. It felt almost… fatherly.
As a child, your father had never sat with you, or listened to anything you said. Daemon, instead, seemed to pay close attention to everything you did or told him. He sat for hours with you, pouring over myths and historical accounts, correcting your pronunciation of High Valyrian, teaching you the meaning behind old rituals.
It was as if a door had been opened for you. One you could use to glimpse inside his mind, and your father’s and even Rhaenyra’s. You understood now much more about how they behaved, and why they did. You didn’t necessarily agree, but you understood.
Some confusing feelings had begun to arise with all this new information stuffed into your head. You liked Daemon’s attention. He was charming, and it made you feel good about yourself, being able to keep someone as worldly and cultured as him interested in you. It made you wish, sometimes, to have been his daughter instead of King Viserys’. But at the same time, the way you felt and the things you did with him weren’t the kind of things you imagined daughters feeling for their parents.
When Daemon kissed you, as he did now, you felt your stomach swoop. His skilled mouth made your skin tingle, and all your hairs stand up on edge. It made you feel ashamed of yourself. You weren’t supposed to feel such things for your uncle. No matter how Valyrian, it was just not right.
What made you feel even more ashamed was the fact that sometimes, when he kissed you for too long, the place between your legs would get slick with arousal. You wanted him too, you realized, with the utmost horror. You wanted him like a woman desires a man. A wife desires her husband.
It is then the game starts. Daemon kisses you, and you kiss back, eagerly exploring his mouth and learning how to play his game. You make out with him for what feels like hours, until you feel drunk from his kisses and become as pliant and soft as clay being molded in his hands. It is then that you let him touch you a bit more, push the boundaries your previous truce has set. His hands grasp at your hips, his lips mouth at your neck. And when the edge of your shift starts to ride up, or his lips trail too close to the neckline of it, you jolt out of your stupor.
Shame licks at your spine, grabs tightly at the back of your head. Makes you stiffen under him, body set into a hard line. How can you be so wanton? Why do you behave in such whorish ways? You struggle then, overcome by the embarrassment you feel at your own behavior.
Daemon tries to subdue you. Sometimes, you fold, other times you spend the night tossing and turning on the bed, trying to get the upper hand. Sometimes, he wins, and pins you down on the mattress. But instead of forcing you, he kisses you again and the game begins anew.
You spend the nights like this. Kissing and struggling with anxious violence, until it has begun to replace the act of love. You can tell Daemon enjoys your struggles, the feel of your buttocks against his clothed crotch. You can feel the weight of him against your hip, burning hot and hard.
Eventually, he tires and heads out. You don’t know if he pleasures himself then, or if he just ignores his arousal until it goes away. You prefer the second when it comes to yourself. For hours, you stare at the ceiling, willing the heat in your blood to go away. Sleeps evades you, yet when it does not, it feels even more torturous. You dream of him, of the act, conjuring lewd positions and thoughts, until morning comes, and you feel like you have not slept at all.
This precarious balance could never last. You are not good at the court’s games, having been a wallflower most of your life. You are a stranger to waging tongues, and malicious comments, but Daemon is not. He is doomed to always be the center of attention, this husband of yours.
Someone notices that almost three moons after marriage, you are still a maiden And someone remembers Daemon’s lack of children with his first wife. One plus one makes two.
He comes to find you in the Royal Sept, as you are lighting candles with your mother. He grabs you briskly by the arm and drags you away, the match still alight between your fingers.
“Have you heard?” Daemon asks, breathless. It is clear that he has rushed to you. “What they are saying about me?”
You shake your head.
“How would I?” You are, after all, as isolated as you were before the wedding. Your only companions are Quicksilver, Daemon, your mother, and your siblings. And Aegon is at that terrible age, where he behaves like a little deviant. The others are too young to provide true companionship, Helaena stuck on her imaginary worlds and Aemond not quite a boy, not yet a man.
“They say I am impotent. That your womb has not quickened because I have not taken you. Because I am unable to.” The crude words Daemon speaks make your eyes widen. You have grown protected from the nastier side of court life, forgotten as you were. You cannot believe how someone would dare comment on a married couple’s bedroom activities, which are meant to be one of the more sacred things to happen between man and wife according to the Seven. Much less, how someone would dare to utter such poisonous slander.
“We know it’s not the truth.” You place your hand on his arm, trying to soothe his wounded pride. Daemon is, above all, impulsive. You fear he is about to do something rash, even if you do not imagine yet what.
Isn’t it enough that the two of you know the courtiers are in the wrong? You have felt the press of his member, hard against your hip, in the nights the two of you struggle. You have felt his hips rutting against yours, as his kisses mapped unknown constellations on your shoulders. What does it matter if Daemon hasn’t taken you? How can these people dare interfere, or even mention what the two of you do or do not do?
Shame, once again, grips you in its clutches. You feel your face warm at the thought of how these strangers must view you. Queer. Twisted. You wonder if they blame his inability to perform on your blood ties. If they think the Seven are cursing your marriage, just as they had with the ones of King Maegor.
“It isn’t.” Daemon says, coldly. He walks away, a tense line on his shoulders, and you walk back inside the Sept.
Alicent is still lighting candles. You sense that there are not enough of them to make a difference for what is about to happen.
That night, a disgruntled looking Harwin Strong wakes you up. He tells you how he is there to supervise your packing. You are leaving the city, he explains, to your bewilderment. Effective immediately.
As you place your dresses inside some linens, and ready Quicksilver, you manage to coax the story out of him.
Daemon had been at his usual haunt in Flea Bottom, betting on some cockfights. You could picture the scene clearly. Daemon, lazily counting his winnings with that infuriating smug look he got when he was proud of himself. An angry patron, getting up and on his face after losing to him.
“Maybe that cock will work for your wife!”
The whole establishment erupting into laughter. Daemon, cold smile on his lips.
“Go to your manse, and arm yourself. Because I am going to kill you tonight.”
After that, there was little he could say in his own defense to King Viserys. It had been a premeditated act, in front of multiple witnesses. No way of denying it, or trying to shift the blame.
You stood outside the city gates, observing Caraxes. He looked as done with Daemon’s antics as you felt. In front of you, stood the world.
Daemon strode by, being dragged by Ser Harwin. He was chained, but managed to look as carefree as any free man.
“You know the rules.” Ser Harwin said, unchaining him, before turning towards you. There was a bit of sorrow in his brown eyes, perhaps feeling pity for you. “Farewell, Princess.”
“Where to, Lady Wife?” Daemon asked, cheekily. There was no hint of remorse on his face. It seemed exile reinvigorated him like nothing else.
Your lips pursed into a thin line. You didn’t want to leave. It was scary, the thought of being away from home. The times you had been outside the Red Keep could be counted with the fingers of your hands alone. And what were you to do, friendless in the big world that opened in front of you?
You wanted to punish him. If he was giving you a choice, you were going to give him a lesson.
“To the North. Perhaps that hot blood of yours will fare better there.”
“ARE YOU sure?” You ask him, all pleading eyes. Daemon nods, already sitting inside the hot spring. You are strangely fearful of the warm water, perhaps, having already grown used to the cold of the North.
“If this scalds me alive, I will come back to haunt you.” You warn, turning to face away before beginning to undress. Daemon can’t help but let his eyes linger on your body, despite knowing how indignant it would get you were you to notice. He has promised to avert his eyes, after all.
Naive as you are, you never check to see that he actually does.
He watches as you remove your furs, and unlace your dress. It has taken him quite some effort to get you to feel comfortable enough to be naked in his presence. There might come a day when you are desensitized to nakedness, but Daemon guesses you are still far away from it. He has to keep trying.
You are worth the effort, though. His precious niece, sweet as the Maiden herself and twice as pretty.
“Dragons don’t burn.” He answers, absentmindedly. You are only wearing your chemise and your hoses, and as you lean down to remove those, he gets a perfect view of your cute rear.
“Perhaps. But I am no dragon.” You pull the chemise over your head, unaware of the fact that you are being watched. Daemon drinks in the sight of your naked legs, strong yet delicate, leading up to beautiful hips and a soft back. As you pull your hair up, he notices how the muscles of your arms and back move in a graceful combination that can’t be anything more but a natural gift. He spends a few seconds mesmerized by you, before you start to turn around and Daemon remembers he is supposed to be averting his eyes.
He fixes them politely on the other side of the hot spring, careful to not let you catch him looking out of the corner of his eyes. You are becoming sloppy in your old age, he scolds himself. Daemon can't help it. Lately, he feels more like the boy he once was than the man he is. His attempts at seduction are fumbled, he gets carried away by his passion, a single one of your smiles can render him tongue twisted.
Everything that you do is charming. The slight sway of your hips as you walk, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, but most of all, your personality. Freed from the cage of Alicent’s judgmental stares, you seem to be growing into yourself. Life on the road seems to suit you, despite your fearful nature. Surrounded by strangers, you no longer feel the weight of being judged for imaginary sins.
“You are. Just one with a more…. Fragile constitution.” How he wishes to be able to turn back time, sometimes. Gather the girl you once were into his arms and soothe all the old hurts. Raise you the right way, give you all the attention you had desperately needed and watch you bloom into an impressive woman. You were already a creature of impossible beauty. How much better could you have been, if they hadn’t stunted your growth?
You were too much of a Hightower, Daemon himself had thought once. But Alicent had thought you not Hightower enough, and she had tried to mold you into one, keeping you well away from what she thought of as queer customs.
Who had told you weren't a dragon? And how had they made that awful lesson stick, until you felt adrift, and belonged nowhere?
The sudden sound of water shifting, and you hissing makes him jolt out of his contemplation. Daemon turns his head the barest bit, managing to catch sight of your hips sinking into the water, and the shape of one of your breasts. There is one puffy nipple crowning it, hard and proud and begging to be bitten. He fights the urge to pounce on you, and instead remains sitting on his side of the natural pool and tries to relax into the warm water. Patience is of the essence in seduction, after all. You need to come to him convinced it is your idea.
“Ready.” You say, sounding a bit too close. He turns and there you are, right in front of him. You sit on the shallower end, water covering you to nearly your collarbones. Daemon playfully reaches out with his foot and touches your leg, making you jump. He laughs.
“It isn’t so bad, is it?” Daemon’s voice still carries a bit of mirth. He can’t help it, you have such cute reactions.
“No. Almost like a warm bath.” You fan your face with your hands. Seeing you lose your composure a little, Daemon feels a bit guilty about pressuring you to enter the pool. It’s true you are not as used to extreme heat as he is. He rushes to your side, uncaring of his own nakedness.
“Too hot?” He asks you, wiping away a stray drop of sweat before it can get into your eyes. You mumble something incoherent, so he presses a hand to your forehead. He doesn’t want you to swoon from heat exhaustion, out of all things. But your temperature is normal. It is then he realizes your eyes are fixated on his chest.
Ah. Poor thing. Daemon can feel his lips stretching into a proud smile. Finally, succumbing to your lust. He should press his advantage, but he finds himself hesitating to do so. Despite how appealing he finds you, he understands that you are different. A being that walks the world of the divine and the mundane that skirts the two but was not made for the more carnal things.
Instead, he commits the sight to memory, for when he decides to touch himself. Perhaps tonight, even. It is something he has been doing more and more often. Daemon has found intercourse with whores is nowhere near as fun as laying on the bed, with you by his side, and tugging at his cock until completion.
He is never quiet about what he is doing. Soft grunts and moans fill your chambers each time he does. You pretend to be asleep, but Daemon can tell you are listening. The next day, you turn fevered with lust. It is you who kisses him, who rakes her claws along his back.
There is no consummation yet. But it is becoming clearer than once fully freed from the judgment of your family, there will be.
You sway slightly. Daemon opens his arms, and lets you curl into him. He guides the two of you into a sitting position, placing you firmly on his lap. Your hair falls into a mess of curls thanks to the humidity, up do barely resisting. He fixes it for you, tightening the ribbon keeping it up. Then, he starts massaging your neck and shoulders.
The pleasure of your bare skin under his hands is undescribable. It’s a luxury he has worked hard to get, and for that, tastes even sweeter. Your sweet little face is scrunched up, in a rare show of pain and pleasure. Daemon wonders if it is the face you would make when he spears you open on his cock.
An annoying hardness begins to make itself known in his groin. He feels like a mere boy, getting excited about the smallest touch. You are driving him mad. And Daemon is enjoying every second of it.
Almost as if listening to his inner monologue, you shift on his lap. Something seems to be bothering you. You can’t get comfortable, and you squirm on his lap more than a seasoned whore. Daemon can pinpoint the exact moment you notice what you are squirming on. Your eyes go wide and you freeze. An embarrassed look takes over your face.
He fights the urge to laugh, wrapping his arms more firmly around you and encouraging to rest against his chest. Daemon could spend years like this. Denial is a fun game. Months have passed, and he has yet to grow tired of it, of taking away your innocence little by little.
You lean in. You give him a playful little smile, and you bite, hard. The pain from your teeth blooms on his shoulder, making his cock throb.
“Impudent little thing.” He chastises, softly. “I should spank the defiance out of you.”
You laugh. You have come to realize that he is not as much of a brute as everyone painted him to be, and that he is too soft to make good on his threat. Ever since your argument, Daemon has never hurt you. He likes you too much for it. He wouldn’t force you to bed him, nor would he willingly do anything to upset you. Not even if you announced you didn’t want him touching you ever again.
Was this what love felt like, he wondered? Being happy with just sharing the same air you did, watching you play with your cat, being honored that he was trusted enough to feed the damn thing?
It probably was. But hell, if he was going to let it stop this corruption of your innocence. No. Instead, Daemon grabbed you by the shoulders and bit down on the hollow of your throat, playfully. You made a small sound, like a caught animal. He could tell you were getting ready to succumb to pleasure once more. His hedonist little wife, always ready to be put in a kiss drunk state. You turned liquid in his arms when it happened, going lax over him.
Daemon could tease you some more. Or… He leans in, breathing in your scent, before blowing a giant raspberry by the side of your neck. You shriek in laughter, squirming on his lap. Water is sent flying everywhere. He peppers your face and neck in kisses as you do, laughing st your squeals and squirming.
“Daemon.” You say, after a while, when the both of you have calmed down. Your head rests on his shoulder, expression hidden.
“Little niece.” He whispers, and you tremble at the endearment.
“I have decided something.” You whisper back. Somehow, your voice feels loud in the cave of the hot spring, nothing but the soft murmur of water being heard.
“You have?” Daemon asks, heart thumping in his chest as if he has just taken to the skies in Caraxes. He pulls you out of hiding, lifting your head towards him.
“I want to marry you right.” You say, shyly. You look deeply embarrassed. “Under my faith. So we can…” You trail off, averting your eyes.
“So we can..?” Daemon asks, feeling a triumphant grin spread over his face.
“Have a child.”
And oh, it is the most wonderful thing he has even heard. He will buy you a cloak, and a couple of ribbons for the hand fasting. He will find the two of you a home. Daemon says all this, as he presses his forehead against yours. Not even his conquest of the Stepstones felt as sweet.
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san8ny · 5 months
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'HOLD IT DOWN, DARE!,
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"You've got to press it on you, you've just been thinking!"
WARNINGS: mutual consent to recording, kissing, nervousness on Ellie’s part, size kink, dacryphilia, a bit of pretentiousness on readers end, tribbing/scissoring, strapping, lots of foreplay in the beginning, barely plot, slapping (both on face and..elsewhere), Ellie quite literally gets feelings fucked into her, hair-pulling, praise, cum-eating, spit-play, Reader collects donations while Ellie goes dumb on a machine at one point, JUST a buncha whores tbh..lmk what i miss k?
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“so..” you murmur, picking up your phone and going through the settings, apps—anything to make this moment a bit bareable,
“so!” She chirps back, green eyes sheening over with excitement, trying to not let the scenery of the dingy denny’s you were both in distract you from all the comments that led up to this very moment.
The girl across from you clears her throat, cracking a small smile as she places her own phone facedown, “I..uh, have never, like..—like, done this ever so it’s..”She trails off, nervously scratching her neck
You feign faux shock at this, picking up a small fry inbetween your own acrylic nails from her tray with a small ‘no? ..really?’ as you pop it into your mouth, chewing as you stare her down, “never?”
“Never.” She gulps, hoping you don’t catch the way she rubs her thighs together pathetically at the sarcastic pout you had on, she had it bad.
You hum a bit as you nod your head, “Hm..that’ll bring in more views. You’re not like..you’re not like a virgin..right?”
Silence.
“No..” She chuckles, “Funny story, I lost it at—“
“Don’t care. Anyways, your place or mine?” You swiftly cut her off, smiling as you tilt your pretty little head up at her, almost as if you didn’t rudely interrupt her,
“W-we can do min—“
“Mine it is.” You interrupt her once more, digging into your purse and taking out a compact mirror before snapping it close when you decide you look presentable to leave,
“Tomorrow at 7?” You reiterate as you lift yourself out of the booth chair,
“Yeah..yeah, 7 AM?”
..
“No, in the PM, who makes porn in the morning?”
“I-it was a joke..” Ellie nervously coughs, clasping her palms
“Oh. Ohhhh..good joke. Bye Nellie!” You wave as you pat her shoulder on the way out,
“it’s..Ellie.” The auburnette sighs, evidently star-struck and dazed as she caresses the shoulder you’d just given her the glory as to graze, her eyes fixed on the way heads turn as you make your way out of the door, some dudes going out of there way to open it for you,
“Guess Nellie is a good name too.” She shrugs, jerking back some more fries.
That following week, Ellie sits comfortably on your bed, though a bit stiff when you begin to roll the cameras.
“Nervous?” You whisper, walking on over to where she sat, nodding softly when you run your fingers up and down her calves.
“That’s okay, sweetgirl, ‘just focus on me..” You utter under your breath, beginning to kiss down her neck ever so gently like she were to break; to say Ellie was calm was an understatement, she was absolutely about to break her composure each time she felt your lips on her skin.
Like that, the donations start pinging.
“Why don’t you read some of the comments out f’me?” Ellie groans, cocking her neck back as your palms begin massaging her breasts under the t-shirt she had on, nonetheless, she obliges, with reading a few of the earlier ones out.
“T-they’re calling me a whore..” She says breathlessly, her chest heaving as you begin to push her onto your bed.
“And are you?”
She hesitates before nodding her head.
It’s minutes before your entire demeanor with her switches, cruely making her sit inbetween your legs infront of the camera as you laugh in her face, “God..look how wet she’s got already?’ This is who you wanted over Anderson? You guys amuse me..”
Ellie’s head rests on your shoulder as you play with her messy folds, hooking a finger on the elastic band and letting it go with a snap, she looks already so out of it by the time you lay her back down, spreading her thighs as you align your face with her mound,
“She’s actually such a slut..” You croon your head to the side, leaning in to read the comments,
“Slap her?” You laugh at the suggestion, turning back to Ellie, “I don’t think my dirty girl minds, no?” Ellie whines, shaking her head as you harshly slap her cunt with 2 fingers, giggling when she raises her hips up to meet the impact in sheer desperation, “Send like, a hundred and maybe i’ll eat her out, deal?”
Just like that, 500 hundred dollars is directly sent as the text-to-speech automator blares off,
“Ooh, 500? Guess i’ll have to give you really good head, baby.” You fake-pout as you pull her panties off, “She’s so swollen..” You sigh, leaning back and taking some aloe-gel out of your cubby, returning to lay on your own tummy inbetween her legs as you slather the cooling ointment across her slit.
“P-please just get— ah..” Ellie trails off, eyes slightly fluttering shut when she feels your wet muscle prod at her cunt, messily swiping around like a credit card as your nose meets her hidden clit,
“Mm, tastes so good..”
You reach your arms forward, bunching up her shirt and pulling it up as you knead her small tits, nipples cold from the sudden air hitting them,
Ellie feels like she’s going to orgasm already when she gently raises her upperbody with her elbows, head feeling heavy when she makes direct eye-contact you.
It’s a messy scene, really, from the way you dart your tongue in and out of her sopping pussy to the way the girl rubs her cunt all over your face, she hasn’t felt this good since..well, ever
and here she was, sharing this moment with the hottest girl ever and her 200k followers.
“Y’wu still twhere?” you slur your words, face buried inbetween the chub of Ellie’s thighs with no escape as you snap your fingers, Ellie nods, crying out when you slam your said fingers into her unsuspecting hole with no ease,
You quickly sit up, digits still buried as you wrap an arm around her waist to secure her— your fingers pistoning into her pussy at a rate Ellie would equate to light-speed, “G—gonna! G’na!” Her eyes widen, feeling a hot burning sensation churn like molting lava in her stomach, hitting her fast when she begins to see white
You ignore her, shutting her up with a kiss as she absolutely drenches the bed, cum spurting out in twitches; you don’t let up on the prompted assault, simply holding her down firmer as she babbles uncontrollably,
Once it rides out, you take some deep breaths and drag a finger down your wet face, soiled with none other than Ellie’s fingers as you hold them to her. “Say ‘ahh’, doll.’ You say, humming when Ellie opens her mouth graciously, pressing them on her tongue as she threatens to moan, tasting herself.
“gooood girl...” You preen sitting up, untying your robe, “I’m feeling a bit jealous here, ellie. I made you feel good, only fair I get some in return.”
1,000USD SENT: lol scissor.
Ellie feels a moan errupt deep in her throat, thanking the gods at whatever subscriber requested that, finally about to feel your own swollen clit on hers,
excitement paints her face as you straddle her, her leg tossed on your shoulder as your pussies meet, kissing as both of your breaths hitch,
“Ah! Mm, god, feels so good..” You moan, arching your back slightly as Ellie’s lips form an O, gasping at just how warm and wet you were;
“Uh! Uh! Uh!— B-baby! Ohmygod ohmygod?!—“ She finds you shoving her leg off and instead pressing both of them to her chest as you rut into her,
This would be a long stream.
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Ping!
“Another one thank you.”
Ping!
“Another one thank you.”
Ping!
“Another— gosh guys, I’m getting tired of thanking you all.” You chuckle, lips glistening with the sucker’s syrup as it’s wrapped around your lips, the noises of machinery in the back clear as day, “Oh Ellie? Yeah, she’s fineeee, ‘arentcha babe!” you spin in your swivel chair to face her,
she was flat on her stomach, arch backed up as the machine fucks a gorgeous silicone cock into her— drool pooling at the pillow her face was buried into as she hums shakingly, cum cascading down her thighs and onto your ruined sheets in a waterfall like motion,
You shake your head as you lean down to kiss her wet lips, petting her hair as you both sloppily makeout, exchanging saliva, “My pretty girl..you’ve had enough, yeah? So so so pretty when you cry..” to which Ellie nods, tired with her cheeks stained with unshed tears straining her dry-eyes,
“She’s cameeee…er, how many times now?” You ask the viewers,
@e11ie0: 10!
@Dickmaxxer: 8!
@Notmyrodrick5: just joined, hot tho
After some minutes and Ellie becoming increasingly overstimulated, you decide it’s enough money for one day,
Giving your followers a warm goodbye, you end the stream— shortly, also turning off the machine.
“D-did I do good? Did we meet the goal? Was I better than her?“ She whispers, almost afraid of her own raspy voice as you pull her off the machine and onto your lap, “Huh? Better tha— Oh..Abby? Fuck, so much better..” You soothe, kissing the crown of her head,
Sitting in silence with your warm plush arms around her, she meets your gaze with a certain softness,
“You’re really pretty you know..” She heaves, still catching her breath,
“so i’ve been told..”
“and I think I like you..alot..” She manages to let slip out, before shutting her eyes— this, this was why she’d never collabed with anyone. She falls too hard, and now you were going to push her away and hate her and shit-talk her and—
“Do you now?” you softly murmur, tracing along ellie’s forearm tattoo.
She peers up at you with teary eyes, “Can I stay over? I-i know it’s weird because collabs are—“
“Ellie, I wasn’t planning to kick you out.” You say, carrying her over to your bathroom for some well-needed aftercare and a good sleep.
"..You know my name," she finally says to herself in a hushed tonebbefore knocking out.
Safe to say your streams incorporated Ellie alot more now.
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TAGLIST:
@macaroni676 , @mystellenia , @seraphicsentences , @sleepy-sheep-things @tohoko , @bearomanoff18 , @ellieswife4ever , @elliezlils11utt , @love4lyn , @sleepy-sheep-things @cattjull @strangepuppywerewolf, @emst4rr
931 notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 3 months
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Crowded
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: reader gets nervous in the crowd, but luke is right there to help her out of it
notes: i’m once again throwing a luke fic out into the world. i saw this request in my inbox and immediately thought of the zach bryan concert the boys just went to. i would literally give anything to attend a concert with them. i just KNOW they’re great concert buddies. sorry it’s kinda short, i just didn’t know how to drag it out any longer. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼
request: from my 400 follower celly - Character A can tell Character B is getting nervous in a big crowd, so A slips their hand into theirs to help them calm down.
[2.8k]
You had been looking forward to tonight for months. From the second Luke surprised you with the tickets for your birthday, you immediately started planning an outfit, making a playlist, and anticipating the trip.
When he told you his brothers and a few friends were tagging along, it only made you more excited, enjoying every moment you got to spend with your boyfriend’s brothers and their hockey friends.
After the concert, everyone was driving over to stay at the lake house for a few weeks, enjoying as much of the summer together as they can before pre-season training starts. You couldn’t wait to have a few weeks of fun on the water, but also wanted tonight to last as long as it could.
Your excitement grew even more when you found the perfect outfit for the occasion, even buying a matching light-up cowboy hat off of Etsy. You were especially excited for the chance to wear your boots again, not having many excuses to wear them in Jersey.
Luke had his hand planted firmly on the small of your back, making sure not to lose you as you weave through the crowd. You had bought Luke a new shirt for tonight, the orange t-shirt matching the burnt orange color of your dress.
He leads you over to the crowded merchandise stand, telling you to pick whatever you wanted. You struggled, loving every item tacked onto the display board. When you told him you couldn’t decided between a t-shirt and a hoodie, he bought you both before you could even open your mouth to protest, buying himself a hat and t-shirt as well.
“Luke, you just spent over $300 without even batting an eye,” you barked at him, crossing your arms to try and look menacing.
You know Luke could’ve afforded to buy you the entire stand and still not make a dent in his bank account, but you don’t like when he spends large amounts on you for no reason.
“Yeah, so?” he shrugs, taking your elbow and leading you away from the cloth covered table, slinging the clear bag of merchandise over his shoulder.
You roll your eyes and huff at him, unfolding your arms and taking his hand, letting him lead you through the sea of bodies.
“’So?’”, you mimicked his response. “You didn’t have to buy half of the merch stand just because it took me more than three seconds to choose which shirt I wanted.”
He glances back at you over his shoulder. “The fact that you didn’t have your mind made up the second you saw the options means you clearly wanted both, so I bought you both.”
You reach over and pinch his side, mildly annoyed with how well he understands the way your brain works.
“Quit pinching me you little gremlin,” Luke hisses out, the nickname being one he uses when you’re being stubborn or annoying.
“Quit spending all of your money on me, you giraffe-man,” you fire back.
You can see his shoulder’s shake, your impromptu nickname for him amusing him.
He doesn’t respond right away, the two of you having made it to the entrance to your seats, walking up to the worker standing under the numbered sign.
The usher instructs you to show your tickets to one of the workers at the bottom of the set of stairs.
When you walk into the arena, you notice how large the space feels, the open floor and mostly empty seats creating the illusion of size.
Luke has to nudge you a bit, reminding you to keep walking, too in awe of the fact you’re actually here.
“Not so unhappy with me spending my money on you now, huh?” he leans down to whisper into your ear, making sure you can hear him over the roaring chatter.
You hit him lightly in the chest, a smirk on his face as the two of you walk down, showing your tickets to the usher once you reach the bottom of the stairs, a bright colored wristband with bold letters spelling out VIP FLOOR printed on each one.
You make your way over to a small, sectioned off area near the main stage, seeing the rest of your group already waiting for the two of you.
Jack is the first one to notice you approaching, his eyes lighting up and arms being slung into the air.
“It’s about time! We were starting to worry the two of you got lost!” he calls out, causing the rest of the group to turn their heads and call out greetings.
You smile, having missed those in the group that didn’t live in New Jersey.
Walking over to Quinn first, you give him a long hug, the last time you saw him being when he played his brothers in Jersey months ago. The frequent facetime calls the two of you share not being enough to scratch your Quinn itch.
“Quinnifer! I missed you!” you squeal as you squeeze him as tight as you can.
You can feel his chuckle as he squeezes you back. “I missed you too, Munchkin” he leans back, ruffling your hair.
Although you see Jack nearly every day back home in Jersey, Quinn is the brother you’re closest to. You and Jack are literally two peas in a pod, but there’s something about Quinn that made you feel comfortable with him from the moment Luke introduced the two of you.
He’s like the big brother you never had, always calling him when you need advice or need to complain to someone about Luke.
Anytime you have a particularly nasty argument with Luke, Quinn is the one you call. He always allows you say whatever you need to get out of your system before breaking the problem down and agreeing that his brother is an idiot, but that he also loves you with everything he has in him.
At first you tried to go to Jack with problems surrounding your relationship with Luke, but he clearly didn’t know how to help you. He either told Luke about your conversations, causing the argument to grow worse because Luke claimed Jack had no business knowing about what’s happening in your relationship, or he would shrug his shoulders and say “just don’t yell at him when I’m trying to sleep. I need my beauty rest.”
You swat Quinn’s hand away, trying to smooth down your now tousled hair.
“I see you dressed the goon, tonight,” he points out Luke’s orange shirt.
You turn your head to see him talking with Cole.
“Believe it or not, it was his idea,” you think back to after you bought your dress, trying it on for Luke once you came home from shopping with your girls. He loved the way you looked in it, his eyes widening the second you emerged from your walk-in closet.
He swallowed thickly, his gravelly voice choking out a “Did they happen to have a matching shirt? Because if you’re wearing that, I’m going to need something to match so everyone knows you’re there with me, not up for grabs.”
You blush at the memory, looking back over to Quinn.
“I always knew he was whipped, but damn you’ve got him down bad, huh?” he shakes his head, smiling in amusement.
“Wrapped around my little finger,” you hold up your pinky, wiggling it at Quinn with a giggle.
You feel a pair of arms snake their way around your waist, a heavy object resting itself on top of your head.
“What’s wrapped around your little finger?” Luke asks, his chin bumping against your scalp as he talks.
“You, duh,” you reply, moving your head forward and craning your neck to look up at him.
He looks between you and his older brother before uttering out a “Oh one hundred percent. Couldn’t unravel myself if I even wanted to,” he lets go of you, stepping up to stand beside you.
Quinn just laughs, bringing Luke in for a hug.
After you make your way around to greet everyone, the lights are dimming and the atmosphere inside of the arena changes.
You love the hum of excitement in the air, finding Luke and standing in front of him. You hear the first notes of Overtime as Zach Bryan comes onto the stage, screaming as loud as you possibly can.
Luke has a content, amused smile on his face as you scream out the lyrics, jumping and dancing around as the beat allows.
As the concert goes on, you make the switch from dancing with Luke to dancing with Jack, attempt to get on Quinn’s shoulders to get Zach’s attention, and slinging your arm over Cole’s shoulder to sway back and forth with him during one of the slower songs.
When it comes time for Zach to sing Revival, your favorite song of his, you beg Luke to leave your secluded area to get closer to the stage, wanting to experience being in the crowd for this one particular song.
He looks at you apprehensively, eyeing the large sea of people on top of one another, barely any room between the bodies pressed together. He worries about losing you in the crowd, your small frame allowing you to get swept away easily.
You tug on his arm like a little kid, repeating “please, please, please,” over and over again, assuring him you’ll be fine.
Luke eventually gives in, letting his brothers know where you two are going, claiming you’ll meet back up with them after the concert.
Grabbing your hand, Luke leads you off of the small platform and into the crowd, pushing his way as far up to the front as his large body will allow him.
You stop just a row or two of people away from the stage where Zach had just climbed onto, adjusting his guitar and microphone before starting the song.
As the song rang out around you, you sang along to every word, joining the rowdy crowd as the chorus starts.
You start to jump around in the small space you have, enjoying every second, until Zach walks his way over to the small portion of stage in front of where you stand.
As soon as his figure stands over the crowd around you, bodies start pushing against one another, everyone trying to get as close to him as they can. You feel yourself being shifted towards the metal barricade, not being able to fight against the rush of people.
You start panicking, whipping your head from side to side to find Luke. All you can see around you are strangers, not being able to move your body to look behind you. You have absolutely no control over your own body anymore, being stuck in-between a girl slightly taller than you and a man that has at least a hundred pounds on you.
Squeaking out a “excuse me,” and “can you let me out please?” you try to make your exit from the suffocating situation. Your eyes turn frantic when you realize that no one can hear you or cares to hear you. Your breath picks up, heart pounding in your chest.
You can feel the tears pricking in your eyes, not being able to regulate your breathing anymore, gasping hot air into your lungs as fast as you can.
You’re about to let out a scream, begging someone to pay attention to you and let you out of the mess you’re in, when you feel a familiar hand slip its way into yours.
Whipping your head around, you catch a glimpse of curly hair behind you, not realizing that the body pressed against your back has been Luke this entire time. You figured you had lost him when you were surged forward, unable to see him anywhere around you.
Your breath starts to slow slightly, knowing you’re not alone in this crowd easing some of your nerves. The feeling of your heart pounding is still present, not wanting to be in this situation one second longer.
Luke attempts to tug your body back towards him, but the impenetrable wall of people around you prevents him from doing so.
You manage to wiggle your way in a circle somehow, now facing Luke.
He takes one look at your frightened face and knows he has to get you out of here, now.
Pulling you towards him, he cages you in with is arms, your cheek pressed to his chest. He starts walking backwards, his hockey roots coming in handy as he all but body checks people out of his way. The two of you finally make it to the back of the large crowd, Luke not letting go of you until you were back over in your original section.
Quinn was watching the whole thing from the small platform he was stood on, about to walk over and fish you out himself before he noticed Luke’s head slowly moving backwards, away from the stage.
He can see you’re still shaken, walking over to meet the two of you at the top of the ramp.
“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Quinn asks, concerned about how frightened even Luke’s face looks right now.
“No, she’s fine. Just shaken up, I think. She got trapped between a random girl and some dude at least triple her size,” he tells Quinn, running his hand down your hair in soothing motions. Your hands were still clutching his t-shirt, not wanting to let go of him just yet.
Quinn stares at your trembling figure the whole time, knowing you don’t want to leave Luke’s embrace but wishing he could do something to help you.
“Let’s get her out of here and to the car, yeah?” Quinn suggests, picking up yours and Luke’s bag of merchandise off of the floor of the platform.
Luke just nods, leading you back down the ramp.
Quinn steps over and let’s everyone know to just meet them in the parking garage before following yours and Luke’s intertwined bodies towards the nearest exist.
Luke manages to get you up the stairs and out into the outer ring of the arena without letting you go. Both pairs of your feet moving in tandem, not once risking tripping over one another.
He leads you out of the doors and into the cool night air.
You finally allow yourself to leave his embrace, instantly feeling better in the openness of the outdoors. Never letting go of his hand, you continue to let him lead you to the large garage.
Luke’s BMW sits right where he parked it, the loud beep echoing in the dark garage as he unlocks it.
He opens the passenger door, lifting you slightly to sit you down on the leather seat. His hands come up to your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the stray hairs that were sticking to the damp skin under your eyes.
“All good now?” he asks you, the frantic look of your eyes now gone.
You nod, looking into his concerned eyes. “M’alright. Just got scared. Too many people,” you mumble out, leaning into Luke’s palm slightly. “Sorry I made us go out there. Just wanted to have fun.”
Luke leans his forehead against yours, shaking it back and forth slightly. “No, it’s not your fault. Just bad timing is all,” he assures you, knowing how upset you’re going to be when you realized you missed most of the last song.
He pulls his head back, standing back to his full height outside of the SUV.
You notice Quinn standing a few feet away, letting you and Luke have your space.
Frowning, you call out to the eldest Hughes. “You didn’t have to leave early too, Quinny.”
Quinn looks over when he hears you address him, walking closer to the vehicle.
“Ehh, show was almost over anyways,” he waves you off. “Had to make sure my favorite little munchkin was okay,” he shrugs, telling you its no big deal.
You smile at him, thankful you not only have your boyfriend to look out for you, but Quinn as well.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Both of you,” you look between the two brothers, only ever seeing how alike they look when they’re standing in front of you.
They both tell you it’s not necessary, the main priority being that you’re safe and sound outside of the arena.
“Fine, I guess that means neither of you want to stop for post-concert pancakes on the way to the lake, then?” you tease, watching both of their heads snap up. All three brothers’ secret love of sweets is something you use to your advantage, only ever having to mention how good ice creams sounds before Luke and Jack are ushering you out of the door and driving you to the nearest ice-cream shop.
“Well, I guess if you really just feel the need to do something nice for us…” Quinn trails off, making a smile break out on your face, unable to hide the laugh at the sudden switch up.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you continue to laugh at the pair, Luke leaning in to buckle your seatbelt for you as Quinn climbs in the backseat, sending a quick text to the rest of your group, telling them if they want to join in on the pancake outing, they need to be making their way out of the arena, and fast.
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 10 months
Text
Fake Boyfriend - p1
Pairing - soft!rafe Cameron x virgin!femreader
Summary - you lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.
Warnings - please note there will be individual ratings on each part. But I’d like to keep it 18+ because there will be smut eventually.
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The party was in full swing, you could hear the music from the Uber two streets away. Combing your fingers through your curls, taking a quick glance at yourself through the rearview mirror. Giving the driver an awkward smile when he shamelessly checks you out.
“Seriously y/n, you can’t keep dodging the questions around why you still haven’t had a boyfriend” your best friend pipes up from next to you, your cheeks blushing when the driver's eyes widen. “Shut up!” You exclaimed, taking a sigh of relief when the car came to a stop outside the house.
You wasted no time and darted out of the vehicle, fixing up your shorts. You opted for a chic but casual look of a tight black strapless top and red linen shorts. You didn’t look back to see if Kelsie followed behind you because not even 5 steps later she’s pulling on your bicep, annoyance floods your veins as you stared at her in silence. “Come on babe, I’m not trying to make you feel bad I just genuinely don’t know how the hottest girl in the outerbanks has never been fucked”.
Once again your best friend has embarrassed you in front of an audience, running your hands down your face in anger. You could already hear the whispers, you stormed away from her in silence. You were rounding the corner of the kitchen within moments, slinging back shot after shot. Trying to dull the embarrassment that sat low in your stomach, Kelsie stood beside you in silence. She knew she had crossed a line then by blurting out you were a virgin, so she didn’t stop you when you poured yourself a large cup of cherry vodka.
“Actually Kelsie” you slurred, jabbing your finger into her shoulder. Her forehead creased in the middle, slightly excited to hear what her best friend was about to admit to. “I do have a boyfriend”.
You're not sure why you're lying, but it just slipped off the tip of your tongue. It was easy to lie to her, she lived on the opposite sides of the country. She had no idea who any of the people were on the island unless you introduced her to them.
You watched the corner of her lips turn up into a smile, her hands shaking beside her as though she’s about to squeal out in delight. Your eyes quickly roam your surroundings searching for a suitable male. Your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron who was standing with his usual posse, beers in hand and laughing at whatever they found funny. “Yeah, I have a boyfriend and his name is- Rafe” you state, you catch a few people turn your way at his name and raise their brows.
Rafe wasn’t one for girlfriends, he was more of a one and done kind of guy. So really you should have thought of someone better, Topper was a better option. He was always chasing after some poor girl and being let down constantly.
“Introduce me then” she edges, her eyebrow arches you in question. She nudges you out of the kitchen, your feet are walking towards where Rafe stood. Throwing back your drink in a hurry, hoping the alcohol would numb your brain from this horrible situation that was about to unfold.
“Go on” Kelsie states, crossing her arms in front of her small chest. You know she thinks you're lying and you were, but no way are you going to let her find out.
You clear the back of your throat and step into the group in front of you, they all look at you but don’t say a word. Looking you up and down in question and then looking behind you at your friend.
Rafe’s eyes meet yours and you step in front of him. “Please play along” you beg, he doesn’t move away from you. Your cupping his face and pressing your lips to his, the alcohol had definitely number the anxious butterflies which had now been replaced with something different, you couldn’t quite explain the feeling.
Rafes arm wraps around your waist and his fingers wrap around the nape of your neck, you're unsure why you let his tongue slip into your mouth. You were actually quite enjoying the kiss before your best friend tapped you on the shoulder breaking the kiss up.
“So this is the boyfriend? Damn y/n didn’t take you for the PDA kind of gal” she joked, she dropped her hand out for Rafe to shake. Before you could even say anything he was shaking her hand and giving her a soft smile.
Your eyes wander around the room. The only people looking were his friends, they looked confused but kept their mouths shut and sipped on their beers in amusement.
“Nice to meet you” he said, you had never actually heard his voice before and it was sending shivers down your spine or was that his hand causing the shivers? You hadn’t realized his hand held you by the small of your back. You couldn’t believe you were getting away with the lie. It all felt too easy but that came crashing down instantly when your best friend decided to ask questions, you really hadn’t thought this through.
“So why did you wait all night to tell me you had a boyfriend? I’m your best friend!” Kelsie questioned, you could see the hesitation behind her eyes. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t believe but she also just wanted to know why you’d keep it from her.
“Well my dearest best friend Kelsie, you wouldn’t shut up about it and honestly I wanted to drag it out as long as possible so I could see your face when you saw how gorgeous he is” you state, grabbing Rafe by the jaw and pecking him on the lips. His fingers dug into your hips pulling you closer to him, your own arm wrapping around his waist.
“Well shit! You got a boyfriend! Fucking finally! Hallelujah!” She shouts, jumping up and down on the spot in pure delight. You're not sure why she’s always been obsessed with finding you a boyfriend, or why she really wanted you to get laid. “Honestly 22 and never had a boyfriend shocking!”.
You just about died on the spot, the redness creeped up your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. How many times was she going to embarrass you tonight?
You could hear his friends chuckling under their breaths and whispering but Rafe didn’t budge, you couldn’t bear to look at his face.
“So how did you two meet?”
You're about to tell her we can do proper introductions another day and that we should enjoy the party because she goes back home soon but to your surprise Rafe leans down and kisses your cheek.
“This one got stuck in a lift in my fathers building. I watched her through the security footage and had to get the fire brigade in because the poor thing was hyperventilating”.
Your brows crease in confusion, that has actually happened to you recently but he wasn’t around and you were sure his dad didn’t own the building.
“Anyway I was there when it opened and comforted her and we just clicked” he says, looking down at you with a smirk. He sends you a quick wink and looks back at your best friend who looks like she is about to burst out of excitement.
“How could you keep that from me!! Omg y/n you have a lot of explaining to do!” She exclaimed, pulling you away from Rafe. “I need to steal her away, nice meeting you!”.
You let her drag you away but not before turning around and mouthing thank you to Rafe who nods his head in acknowledgment.
You spend the next two hours making up lies and throwing back more shots, your head feels heavy now and you stabilize yourself by leaning against the fridge. Kelsie has run off to dance to some song with another one of your friends who showed up, you couldn’t stand straight so opted to stay back.
You were so deep in thought you didn’t feel the person moving you away from the fridge and into a seat, your eyes looking around to find Rafe sat next you.
“Oh hey boyfriend!” You laughed, patting his solid chest and ogling him shamelessly. “Hey girlfriend”.
The words send goosebumps all over your skin, tingles running down your legs. You give him a soft smile and accept the bottle of water he hands you.
“So I’m going to take you to a room upstairs because I don’t trust any of these guys especially as you're just about floating off that chair, we can talk in the morning”.
You're nodding your head and letting him scoop you from the chair, your head nuzzles into the crook of his neck and the moment his foot hits the first step your out like a light.
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sturniholo · 7 months
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the only exception - matt sturniolo
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in which matt shows the reader what love should look like
matt x fem reader !
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The sound of my mother’s screams ricocheted off the walls as I lay in bed. This was a sound I was all too familiar with, as it happened almost every night. My dad would do or say something to upset my mom, which resulted in a big argument.
However, tonight was worse than it had ever been. The sound of my parents' bedroom door slamming made me shoot up from my bed. Loud steps could be heard going down the stairs. I could hear cries in the hallway, making me get out of bed.
My mom stood at the top of the stairs, mascara running down her face. My heart broke as I heard her sobs. She always held herself together, putting on a tough front for her kids, but tonight she just couldn’t.
Instinctively, I made my way over to her, making her immediately wipe her tears. She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me into her side. She sniffled loudly, occasionally letting out a soft cry.
My dad on the other hand packed a bag and made his way down the road. He was too angry to be at home and needed to get away. He had done this before, so it wasn’t shocking. He was never gone for long, and would usually come back the next day. But this was the final straw.
It had been a whole week and he still didn’t come home. I then learned that my parents had split up that night. Ever since then, I could finally sleep at night, with no interruptions from either of them.
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I stared off at the wall as my older sister leaned on my shoulder, letting out gut-wrenching sobs. Her boyfriend of two years had cheated on her, which obviously made her upset.
My hand rested on her back, rubbing soothing circles on her skin. Her tears rapidly fell on my shirt, creating a wet patch, but I didn’t mind. She needed a shoulder to cry on, so of course I was there for her.
In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what led to this. They had seemed like the perfect couple. He was always at the house, cuddled up on the couch with her. The picture of her waltzing around the house, waiting for him to pick her up for their date entered my mind.
But there she sat, crying her eyes out over him. Letting tears fall from her eyes and snot drip from her nose as she let it all out.
From that point on, I didn’t allow myself to get into a relationship. I pushed away any feelings I developed for anyone if I even allowed myself to develop those feelings. And I was quite content with that, as other things in life brought me happiness.
I stuck to this philosophy for years, until something changed. During my senior year, I met a guy. His name was Matt. We sat beside each other in history class, which we both found boring. However, we quickly became good friends, which made history class something to look forward to.
As the school year progressed, I found myself developing feelings for him. I tried my absolute best to push them away, but as soon as he flashed me a smile, they all came rushing back.
Soon, prom season came around. All of my friends were excited. They couldn’t wait to dress up, go out to eat, and slow dance with their date. But on the other hand, I couldn’t care less. I thought prom was a waste of time, especially if you went with a date.
However, Matt convinced me to go to prom with him. And safe to say, it was the most fun I have had in a long time. We danced all night, occasionally sneaking off to steal food from the snack table or take pictures in the photo booth.
A few months later, I came to a terrifying realization. I liked Matt. A scary amount. Due to these feelings, I began to distance myself. I would decline hangouts or leave him on read for a few days.
Eventually, this caught up with me. One day he came to my house, quite aggravated. I remember it as clear as day.
I quickly jogged down the stairs, making my way to the front door. I pulled it open, revealing Matt. He wore a slightly aggravated expression, making me knit my brows. “Matt, what are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? You haven’t answered me in three days and you wonder why I’m here?” He pushes past me, leaving me dumbfounded. I close the door and follow him into my living room.
He’s sitting on the couch, leaning forward. I sit on the other end of the couch, keeping a good distance between us. “You can’t even sit near me. Seriously, what’s going on with you?” He looks over at me with a hurt expression, making me feel awful.
“I’m scared,” my voice breaks as I speak.
“Why?”
I look away from him, turning my attention towards my lap. “Because I like you so much it scares me.” I felt a hand on my thigh, causing me to look over to him.
“You shouldn’t be afraid because I like you too. It’s been killing me that you’ve been ignoring me, y/n.” As his words sunk in, my heart couldn’t help but pound. To hear those words took a huge weight off my shoulders.
A few weeks later, Matt asked me out on a date. To say I was excited was an understatement, but I still had my worries. What if it all went wrong? What if I never spoke to him again after tonight? Those thoughts ran through my mind as I got ready.
As our date came to an end, I couldn’t help but smile. I had the best time tonight. Matt picked me up and took me to my favorite restaurant. He paid and even ordered me a dessert.
Now here we were, back at his car. I was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window when I felt a hand on my leg. I turned to look at Matt, a blush creeping onto my cheeks.
“I had a great time tonight.” His hand moved up my leg, resting on my thigh. As he began to caress the skin, I couldn’t help but ease into his touch.
I gazed into his eyes, allowing myself to get lost in them. “Me too.” My eyes flickered down to his lips, making him smirk.
Before I knew it, he was leaning in. He placed his lips on mine, his hand gripping my thigh. My hand found his jaw, my lips moving on his. As we kissed, I couldn’t help but smile.
He pulled away, a big grin on his face. “Be my girlfriend,” he blurted. My eyes widened at his words. “Please,” he breathed out.
I thought for a moment, my mind racing. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Matt.”
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That night changed my life for the better. It’s exactly why I’m in the position I am now.
My eyes slowly fluttered open as the sun peaked in through the curtain. I stirred around in bed before slowly sitting up. My movements were constrained as I felt Matt’s tight grip around me. His arm was wrapped around my waist, keeping me close to him.
I couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at him. He was peacefully sleeping, his mouth slightly open, allowing soft snores to escape. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He stirred beneath me, his eyes slowly opening. A yawn left his lips as he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. “Good morning, baby,” he said as he pulled me into his side.
“Good morning, babe.” He placed a kiss on my forehead, making me smile. I watched as he sat up, pulling the covers off of his body.
“I’m gonna make us some breakfast. Pancakes sound good?” I gave him a nod. I watched as he left the room, a smile on my face.
Simple things like that remind me how lucky I am to have Matt. Had I let my fears get the best of me, I would have missed out on love others spend their whole life searching for.
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a/n: shoutout to all the girlies with divorced parents and a fear of intimacy…😭 ily
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copper-16 · 4 months
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Mascot
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Elena's first time getting to be Alexia's mascot.
(a/n: I feel like I'm on such a roll with these lol. Hope you all enjoy! Feel free to send more requests if you have more of Elena you want to see before I settle in to work on my next bigger project I have planned :)
Alexia had gone into the gym to do a few extra exercises after training, just to get a few reps in before the important game the next week. It was El Clásico in Barcelona once again, the day before her birthday in fact. She wanted to be prepared, she wanted to be sharp and focused. She was still coming back from her ACL, she was still yet to get back to the form everyone expected from her. 
The mental load was beginning to take a toll on her, and her birthday wasn’t really helping anything. Yet another reminder that she was getting older, that everything would get more complicated as tried to play whilst she aged. 
She was so focused on her reps that she doesn’t realize that Elena is standing in front of her until there is a tiny tap on her thigh, and she looks down from the weights she is holding to see that the three year old is peering up at her rather shyly. 
“Pequeña! What are you doing here my little love?” Alexia said sweetly, carefully setting the weight down before she sat down, scooping the baby into her arms and smothering her with kisses. The little giggles and laughs that Elena let out relaxed her whole body, and she felt herself smiling more genuinely than she had in days. 
“I…um…uh…I had a….a question!” The little girl explained, leaning back slightly as she reached up to shove some of her hair away from her face. It was sort of braided back, but a lot of the baby hairs that framed her face had gotten free, and now flowed freely in the slight breeze through the gym. Alexia followed her little hand with her larger ones, running it soothingly over the little girl’s forehead. 
Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter seemed nervous for some reason, and the midfielder furrowed her eyebrows a little bit, wondering what was making the usually outgoing and bubbly little girl so anxious. She looked quite concerned for someone who was only three years old.
“What is it Elena? It is okay, you can tell me,” she promised, her voice gentle. This seemed to settle the green eyed girl for a moment, enough for her to ask her question. 
“Walk out with you?” She asked carefully, her words clearly well thought out. Alexia’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline with surprise. Mapi or Ingrid usually never let their daughter walk out with anyone else, and she wasn’t sure if she could say yes. 
She hesitated for a moment, knowing what her heart wanted, while also wanting to respect her friends' boundaries. 
“PSSSST!”
The blonde turned her head to see that Mapi and Ingrid were peering around the corner, the Norwegian’s head over her wife’s as they leaned into the gym while not wanting to go into the room completely. 
Both of the defenders reached their hands up to give thumbs up, citing their clear agreement with the situation. Alexia felt her smile grow as she turned back to Elena, who was looking at her hopefully. 
“Yes! I would love for you to walk out with me!” She agreed easily, picking up the little girl and twirling her around, inciting another round of laughter and squeals as she hugged the toddler. 
Suddenly the game seemed a little bit more exciting, and a little bit less overwhelming. At the very least, she had something to look forward to. 
“Where is my baby!” Alexia announced as she all but ran into the changing room, throwing her bag down when she caught sight of Elena. 
“Tia!” She cried, running over on her little legs and running directly into the midfielder. The laugh that came out of the Barcelona captain’s mouth was more natural than anything, as she bent down to peel the toddler off of her legs and to lift her up into her arms, dancing her back and forth. 
Elena clapped along with the bopping the midfielder was doing, horribly out of rhythm but still joyful all the same. 
“Tía, Tía, look at my shirt!” She announced, pulling at the little Barcelona jersey she was wearing. Alexia assumed that it was one of Mapi or Ingrid’s shirts, but when she turned the little girl around it was her name and number plastered on the back. 
“You have my shirt! What, do you love me or something?” She teased in an overly exaggerated attempt to hide the emotion that bubbled up inside of her, and when Elena nodded enthusiastically, she tucked the girl into her to give her a big hug. Little arms wrapped their way around her and held her tightly, and she found that her nerves had dissipated for the most part, at least for now. 
Elena was passed back to Mapi for a while so that Alexia could get ready, and before she knew it they were getting ready to head out. 
Elena was passed back to Alexia, who held her hand very securely as they walked out into the tunnel, preparing to go out onto the field. The little girl was oblivious entirely to Alexia’s nerves, and she babbled about everything and nothing at all to her Tía. 
When Elena looked over at the Real Madrid team, she quickly noticed a familiar face in line, and before anyone could stop her she had turned her body entirely, calling out with a force that was rather surprising from a three year old. 
“HOLA TÍA MISA!” Elena called out as though Misa was not ten meters from her. Mapi and Ingrid were standing further back in the line, and the Norwegian had to hide her laughter in a cough while the Spaniard smacked her forehead with her palm. 
The goalkeeper was known for her focus before matches, and for her stony expressions when she was in the zone, so Alexia looked over almost in panic when Elena called out to her. She wasn’t sure if Misa not responding would make Elena sad or not, and what she was supposed to do with an upset toddler when they walked out for the match. 
But to her surprise, Misa’s expression broke at the sound of her name, and her whole body softened as she turned slightly, offering a small wave to Elena, her gloves strapped securely onto her hands. 
Elena’s whole face lit up in excitement that Misa remembered her, and she turned back to Alexia with a bright smile on her face. 
“That’s Misa!” She explained cheerfully, and Alexia pretended to be surprised, looking up at the Real Madrid goalkeeper, following Elena’s instructions. 
The toddler managed to keep them preoccupied until they were ready to walk out, and Alexia held her hand carefully as they made their way out. She had been sure to inform any photographer she could find that she really wanted pictures of walking out with Elena, and she could hear the snap of the shutter as they walked out to get ready. 
The crowd roared around them, and as Elena took it in while they lined up, she found herself hiding behind Alexia’s leg a little bit. She was clearly a touch nervous, and found safety in the Barcelona captain. 
It was one thing to know her goddaughter and love her, but it felt like another for the little girl to find safety in the midfielder. It had this ability to make her feel such warmth inside, and like suddenly football mattered just a tiny bit less. 
The blonde looked down at the little girl, her forehead creasing in concern. 
“Are you okay pequeña? It is okay to be scared, I know they are loud. But they are just excited for the game!” Alexia whispered loudly, pretending that she was telling the curly haired little girl a big secret. Elena looked up at her, seemingly holding onto every word she said as she watched her godmother, nodding slightly. 
She reached her hands up as soon as Alexia stopped talking, and the Spaniard easily picked her up, popping her onto her hip and adjusting her little jersey down over her stomach with a practiced ease. 
“Do you want to wave to the crowd?” The captain asked, and Elena’s smile spread as she reached her hand out, waving at everyone in the stands. 
There will be a picture for Alexia to frame, of the toddler with a big smile on her face as she waved at the crowd, while the midfielder laughed at her, gazing down at the little one adoringly. 
It’s only after the coin toss, which Elena helps with, that the little girl has to part from Alexia, so that they can play the game. The green eyed girl is passed to Patri, who begins to take her from her fellow midfielder before Elena calls out, causing Alexia’s steps to falter. 
“Tía Ale! Tía come back!” Elena all but wails, and for a second the game becomes obsolete to the Spaniard, who instantly turns back at the sound of the little girl’s clear discontent. 
“What? What is it?” She replies as she jogs over, and the curly haired girl reaches her hand up to her mouth before she runs over to Alexia, exaggerating a kissing motion off of her mouth and then pressing her hand to the Spaniard’s knee. 
“Good luck kiss! Score a goal!” Elena nods her little head at Alexia before she runs after Patri, who scoops her up and jogs them both to the bench so they can start the game. 
The Barcelona captain looks down at her knee for a second. The one the toddler had tapped was her bad knee, and even though Elena couldn’t know that, it felt a little symbolic. Her resolve to win strengthens as she sets up to play the match. 
Elena squirmed in Mapi’s hold as the game wound down, the Spaniard’s daughter knowing full well that it was nearly over. She had been subbed off about twenty minutes prior, and had collected her daughter from Patri to sit together on the bench, but all the little girl wanted today was Alexia it seemed. 
“Just one more minute!” Mapi laughed as the little girl let out a big huff, clearly displeased with that answer. She continued to twist and turn until the final whistle blew, and finally the center back released her, allowing the green eyed girl to take off as fast as her little legs would allow it. 
Ingrid was standing in between her and Alexia, and she bent down to receive her daughter, only for the little girl to drive by her completely, clearly not in search of her. Mapi, who had been trailing after her, laughed easily at the semi-annoyed look on her wife’s face. 
“Gosh, when did we become old news?” The Norwegian shook her head with a slight frown on her lips, but the brunette could tell her wife wasn’t really annoyed, not when they turned to see where their daughter was headed. 
Alexia was headed for the little girl just as much as Elena was running to her, and she bent down just as Elena made it to her, so that she could feel the toddler bury herself in her arms as she wound them around her in exchange. 
“You did it!” Elena announced happily, because the captain truly had. 
Alexia had scored a goal in the 79th minute of the game, and with the very leg where she had received a good luck kiss from the curly haired girl right before the match. 
“I did! And it was all thanks to you and your magic kisses, thank you so much!” Alexia gushed happily, pecking kiss after kiss to Elena’s little cheek as she held her tightly. The squeals and giggles released in response were well worth it, and she found herself leaning into the kisses that the curly haired girl offered in response, pressing wet little kisses to her cheek before she nestled herself further into Alexia. 
“Love you Tía,” Elena announced as she fisted one of her little hands in Alexia’s kit, and the midfielder was absolutely positive that her heart doubled in size at the words. 
“I love you too pequeña, always,” she promised as she pressed another kiss to the top of her head, holding the little girl securely to herself, rocking her back and forth.
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empress-simps · 6 months
Text
Uncle Padfoot’s Motorcycle
Pairing: Dad! Remus x Mom! Reader CW: Language and Remus who’s gonna face the wrath of his wife. Summary: Uncle Sirius takes baby Moony out for a ride on his motorcycle and you aren't happy about it.
Note: I’ve literally enjoyed writing this, and dad! Marauders literally make me hdiskskssjska ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS YOU GUYS🫨🥹 I LOVE Y’ALL
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"Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin!"
Sirius could feel his soul practically leave his body as he saw you, in your ever angry form, march to where he is handing your year old daughter to Remus' awaiting arms.
This is it, this is how Sirius thinks he’s going to leave the face of the Earth.
"Erm, I have to go! See you next week yeah?" Sirius clambers onto his motorcycle, praying to any deity that he would fly faster than you hexing him with your wandless magic.
"Bye pah foo!" Lyra grins, her four teeth in clear display as Sirius looked back and waved, "See you soon, baby moony! Have to go before mummy hexes me to no end!"
Remus watched his friend blankly, deep down wishing he too was in the back of the motorcycle with Lyra so he could escape the imminent wrath his wife that was to rain down on him.
“Remus. John. Lupin.”
Each word you uttered was like a nail on his coffin. He tried his best not to wince as he heard how utterly cold and sharp you spat his name out. So, gathering up his remaining courage, he faced you with a smile- and he definitely didn’t place your squealing baby girl in front of him, making her somewhat his shield. He hoped the cuteness of Lyra would soften the blow quite a bit.
“Hi, darling! You’re back early- “
“Tell me I did just not see our one-year-old baby land in front of our house riding Sirius’ flying motorcycle or so merlin help me I will strangle you.” You warned, taking Lyra from his hands, who happily snuggled in your arms.
Well, shit.
There goes his only chance of living.
He offered a wry smile, ignoring how sweaty his hands had become. “Alrighty, I won’t tell you- “
“Remus! You seriously thought it was a good idea to let our child ride a flying motorcycle? She just turned a year-old last week for Merlin’s sake!” You scolded, poor Remus. Call him a seer because he can already see himself sleeping on the couch for the entire week, a few days if he’s lucky.
“Darling, Sirius and I made sure it was completely safe.” He tried to explain, “Lyra doesn’t even have a helmet! What were you guys thinking?!” You hugged your baby closer to your chest.
“Well, Padfoot said it’s unnecessary since they’re technically flying.” You scoffed in disbelief as you comforted Lyra who started to fuss. “Remind me to make Sirius fall next time I set his eyes on him on that darn vehicle of his.”
Remus could only let out a nervous chuckle. "Erm, I will."
“Why was Padfoot even here the first place?” You raised an eyebrow, going back inside the house to place Lyra in her playpen as Remus followed you like a servant who’s trying to regain your favor. “He also took Harry out for a ride. After that, he went here and told me Lyra should also experience it.”
You turned around and faced him, a hand on your hips. “I’m guessing Lily isn’t aware- because there is no way in her right mind that she would let her two-year-old son ride a flying motorcycle.”
His silence was the only thing you needed to hear from him.
“Where even were you when he took Lyra out for a ride?”
He blinks stupidly, “Outside, watching them.”
“You better choose your next words carefully Lupin.”
“I was supposed to ride with them, darling! But Sirius already took off when I was about to get onto the motorcycle!” He explains, hoping it’ll be enough to save him as he recalled the events from earlier.
“Pah foo!” Lyra grinned as she clapped her hands excitedly, her sandy brown hair that was tied in pigtails was swaying with every move she made. Sirius returned her excitement, bypassing Remus who answered the door and made a beeline to the squealing baby.
“There’s my baby Moony!” He lifts Lyra up from her playpen and peppers her face with kisses while Remus smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m starting to think you’re just visiting so you can hang out with my daughter, Padfoot.”
Sirius turned to look at him, smiling playfully as Lyra tugged on his curls. “I’m afraid so, Moony.” He then turned his attention to the child. “Now, who wants to go on an adventure with uncle Padfoot?”
Sirius’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he held Lyra aloft, her giggles filling the room. “We’ll soar over the treetops, chase the clouds, and maybe even race a few owls, eh?” He bounced her gently, eliciting more delighted squeals.
Remus watched them, a fond smile on his face, thinking that his best mate wouldn’t seriously do it. “Just make sure you keep her within sight, Padfoot. No loops or dives,” he added with a mock sternness that fooled neither Sirius nor Lyra.
Sirius mock saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Moony!” He turned to Lyra, whispering conspiratorially, “Your dad’s just worried we’ll have too much fun without him.”
Remus didn’t even know how it happened, he just suddenly became aware of the situation when Sirius and Lyra were off, the flying motorcycle roaring to life as they took to the skies, leaving a trail of laughter, the faint smell of engine oil in their wake, and a faint ‘I fly, dada!’ from Lyra.
You sighed, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. “At least Lyra’s safe, I know Sirius wouldn’t endanger his god daughter.”
You watched as Remus’s eyes softened; the worry lines smoothed out from his forehead. “Yes, Lyra is safe, and Sirius might be reckless, but he’s also fiercely protective,” he agreed, his voice carrying a note of gratitude. You hummed in agreement.
Remus tested the waters, “So… I won’t be sleeping in the couch, right?”
You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, the tension from earlier dissipating like morning fog in the sunlight. “No, Remmy, you won’t be sleeping on the couch,” you said, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. “But let’s agree that any future flights require both parents’ approval, alright?”
Remus let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Agreed, and I promise, no more surprises,” he said earnestly, reaching out to take your hand.
Just then, Lyra’s babbling caught your attention, and you both turned to see her playing with a small, plush fox, looking eerily similar to your animagus form that Sirius must have sneaked into her playpen.
“Maybe we can’t protect her from everything, but we can make sure she knows she’s loved and safe,” you mused aloud, watching Lyra.
Remus nodded, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. “That’s all we can do,” he agreed. “And maybe teach her a few tricks so she can outfly Sirius one day,” he added with a wink.
You glared at him playfully, then laughed, imagining a future where Lyra, with her inherited Marauder’s cunning, would indeed give Sirius a run for his money. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind,” you said with a smile.
As the night drew on, the house filled with the soft sounds of a family at peace. The day’s adventures were recounted with laughter and gentle teasing, and plans for a grounded tomorrow were made. And in that moment, all was well in the world of magic and mischief.
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watsittoyah · 3 months
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The Devils Playpen
A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC
NEXT
This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.
That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.
You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…
Chapter 1) When The Predator Becomes Prey…
(Song: Obsession By Exo)
Warning: Mentions of suicide. Stalking, choking of non sexual nature. Oral sex, shibari, threats of r*pe, Light Saber play (don’t be dumb you know what that last tag means)
I walk past a woman with long and short locks but she brings no excitement to my inner beast.
How lucky she is.
I hiss internally as I walk inside of the apothecary. Once I’m inside I inhale deeply, letting the poison I desire call to my senses.
However I smell something else. Something sweet? Sticky? I let my eyes fall onto a man hunched over in a corner. I don’t bother with manners of averting my eyes.
My curiosity has a scratch and I want it itched.
“Hello?” I call out to him in a soft voice. The man appears to be sleeping and I walk closer but keep my distance. His scent still smells sticky and sweet. Like those man eating plants over on Plexart.
“Hello, sir? I’m here to buy some supplies.” I say as I stare at his sleeping form. I flick an empty bottle over and it shatters causing him to finally stir from his slumber.
“Oh, sorry.” He stretches and does a big yawn before he looks over at me. When our eyes meet, he runs his fingers through his mop like hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Oh, hello. And you are?” He asks as he stands fully.
I take note that we have a significant size difference. He looks to be 5’11 while I stand at 5’4.
“I’m here to buy supplies, unless you aren’t the owner of this shop.” I ask in a gentle yet bored tone. He clears his throat and nods. “I am, I am. So what can I get for you? Ah, pick your poison.” He jokes. I however don’t laugh or crack a smile.
“I just needs a few things on this list. Whatever you don’t have, I’m sure I can find on my travels.” I hand him a piece of paper and our fingers brush against each other. He feels cold to the touch.
Interesting…
“Hm, this is quite the list. Might I ask what are all of these for?” He asks as he looks at me.
No, he’s studying me. Which makes my inner beast stir.
“Just some tools on helping me hunt. Nothing major. I don’t mean to be rude but I do need to be on my way.”
“Right, I will get on this for you now.” He starts on my list and I decide to look around and figure out if I’m going to kill him or let him live since he brings a spark of something out of me.
“Can I ask you a question?” The man asks, which causes me to give an internal sigh. “What is your question sir?”
“Qimir, you can call me Qimir. Anyways my question for you is, what methods do you take to hunt your prey?” This question peaks my interest because the way he says prey I think he knows I hunt a different kind of species.
“There’s many ways to do that. Poisons, bare hands, even a simple isolation tactic. But the best method…is simply a mental attack. That works on any kind of prey.” I say with a hint of a smile on my lips. I look up and see Qimir staring at my lips.
I bite my plump bottom lip, which makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.
“Forgive me for prying, but the items on your list, they are interesting. Bunta Root? That grows-”
“In one specific place I know, but I figured this place would have it here..” I look away from him and glance out the window.
In a matter of days, I will be at her door and I’ll she can’t escape me. I can’t wait to see her eyes widen by surprise. She’ll think how did a beast like me, hunt her down to the very last of her days.
Will she beg for her life?
Will she plead that I do it quickly?
The possibilities will be endless when I finally get my hands on Zen.
Zen…
She was once a great ally to my people at least until she got them killed.
Genocide, her and those moral less Jedi committed genocide to my people and I need to make sure they pay. She’s the final one and I just know, she knows I’m coming for her. Especially when the word went around on how her partner’s body was discovered.
I’ll never forget how his eyes had ballooned in his skull after I cracked his head open. I can almost picture his head hitting the concrete over and over and over. His brain matter was all over my hands, staining my nails with his blood.
If I close my eyes tonight will his ghost haunt me?
Will his soul ask me why I took him from his lover so soon?
I blink and I’m no longer in that glorious gruesome memory.
I turn and Qimir is standing close to me, almost making me flinch. “Excuse you.” I snap at him. He looks me up and down and cocks his head to the side.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…you remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is just uncanny. You look…exactly like her.” He whispers softly as he takes in my entire appearance.
Instead of stepping back, his scent makes my stomach grumble which makes me flick my split tongue against my inner cheek.
“Trust me Qi, if you knew me…you wouldn’t be standing so close.” I say to him letting my split tongue slither past my full lips. I notice his eyes darken from my movement for a split second.
“Why is that? I find you quite the interesting creature.” He says as he reaches out to touch my coiled curl. I jerk my head back not from his attempt to touch me, but from his scent.
I want to split my jaw open and take a chunk out of him. His scent had changed somehow. He smells like spiced sweet fruit.
I see a smirk on his lips and I want to bite him. I want to bite his flesh and rip i-
“Excuse me?” We break eye contact and I see a woman, she looks exactly like the woman I had passed when I came in here but her hair…it’s short. And she smells… sour.
I grow bored with her and move away from Qimir. But as I move away he grabs my wrist. I look down at his hand and then at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to finish this.” He lets my hand go and he moved away from me swiftly.
I narrow my eyes at his back as he talks to the woman. As I glance at her with boredom I can smell that she’s anxious? Scared?
Oh, maybe I can have some fun with her after all.
As Qimir talks to her, which tells me something is going on, I run my hand along the counter and ‘accidentally’ bump into her, causing her things to clatter to the floor.
“Oh I’m so sorry, Miss. Do forgive me I am not myself.” We lock eyes and in that moment, she’s frozen in place. Her pupils dilate. I can hear her pulse quicken. “I..it’s okay.” She stutters as I hand her her things.
“You are so pretty.” I say as I take in her whole face. I see her blink a few times and I study her presence.
She’s nervous, hmm her body is smart to be nervous, but is her brain?
“Oh! I’m sorry, I give compliments before I even give my name. I’m Akasha. And you are?” I see the apple of her cheeks deepen in color after I compliment her.
“I’m-” She looks away from me and at Qimir but I clear my throat and she looks back at me, trapped in my spell. “I’m Osha.” She whispers with a small smile. “Such a pretty name. I don’t mean to over step, but would you like some company on your travels?” Before she answers me, Qimir clears his throat.
I cut my eyes at him and he’s staring at me, in a way that makes me want to challenge him. “I thought you wanted your things in a hurry, Akasha.” He says my name as if he’s accusing me of something .
“Suddenly I am in no rush, especially when it comes to making new friends.” I stand as well as Osha and I step towards her. Inhaling her fear.
Her scent is starting to ripen, oh I need to sink my teeth into her, before she spoils. Before she-
“Mae, if you don’t mind. I’m just handling this customer and then I can get back to you.”
Mae?
I look back at the woman and she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with them.
“Okay, Qimir.” She says with hesitation in her voice. She looks at me and I wink at her. “So, pretty one, might I ask, what brings you to an apothecary?” I ask as I lean against the counter, looking her up and down.
I wonder how her teeth taste.
“I’m just here to thank Qimir for the item he gave me. It helped me greatly.” I listen to her pulse and it quickens.
Oh you little liar.
Now I’m excited to know why she’s lying so much.
“You’re welcome. I hope I can help anyway I can to help you please your Master.” Qimir says as I feel him behind me. I look back and he was leaning forward, playing with one of my curls.
How did I not notice him this close to me?
I flick my hair from his touch and he sniffs his finger tips.
Did he just sniff his fingers?
“Akasha, since you’re making friends, how about being my friend?” Qimir asks as he stares me deep into my eyes.
Hmmm…
“I like being friends with girls, Qimir. They’re are nice and sweet….” I look at his lips and I can imagine biting them.
“But with boys? I tend to be a bit too rough with them. And you?” I look him over his slim athletic build. “You look like you break easily.”
I see him lick his bottom lip and I swear I hear a slight groan in his throat. He then lowers his voice so only I can hear.
“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Akasha. I tend to play rough with my things. Sometimes they break and sometimes they…turn to ash in my clutch.”
Excitement licks my veins as I inhale his scent.
Mmm it’s mixed with sweet, spice and arousal.
“Sounds like a threat, and a fun time. Maybe…” I lean in close to his ear, as he leans in to hear me. “…I can teach you how to play with your toys nicely by making you my new toy. Would you like that, Qi?” I flick my tongue against his ear and I hear a deep groan vibrate from his chest.
He’s about to answer me but Osha/Mae clears her throat and I feel both Qi and myself glare at her.
I look away and take a deep breath. “How about you talk to her and I’ll be back for my things. I have something to grab on that list that I know you don’t have here.” Before he can stop me I leave the shop and place my hood back upon my head.
••••
“I need Daroon moss for my special powder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can find some on the outer banks of this place.” I mutter as I continue to walk further into a crowd but my muscles tense as I feel I’m being followed.
Who would be stupid enough to follow me?
I decide to cut the chase short and duck further into the crowd.
They continue to follow me and that’s when I notice his scent.
The sweet spicy arousal.
I slip into an alleyway and I stand there counting as his scent get closer. That smell. If I were an addict, I would beg for a hit of that scent on a daily.
As soon as he is in arms reach I snatch him in close then push him to the ground. I then quickly take my boot and press it firmly against his throat.
“I don’t know about your other customers but I don’t like to be followed around stores or crowds.” I press down with a bit more pressure, just so he can answer me.
He winces in pain. “S….sorry. But I did…tell you I wanted…to finish this.” I go to step down harder but he grabs my ankle and twists, causing me to lose my footing.
He then pins me under him and I feel his full weight on top of me. “Get off of me.” I hiss. “Not until we finish this, conversation.”
“This conversation is over!“ I scream at him. He looks deep into my eyes and he gives me a wicked grin. “I’m sorry, but you seem to still think you have control of this situation. When clearly I’m the one on top. But I’ll be nice. The conversation will end after I tell you this…I’ve decided that I want you to be my new toy. And when I want something I take it.” I see a flash of something wild in his eyes as I feel his hands go for my throat.
His strength takes me by surprise as he starts cutting off my air supply. “Let…me…go!” I scream knowing it’ll cause at least someone to come find out why I’m screaming.
But…
No one comes.
Not even a curious onlooker.
He squeezes tighter and I try my best to fight him off. But it’s like an animal is wearing his skin and attacking me. I can feel him clearly aroused as he chokes me out on the ground.
Wait no, it can’t end this way.
I can’t die this way underneath this sick son of a bitch.
My vision starts to blacken around the corners. Qimir slowly starts to fog up into darkness, and just when I’m about to pass out, I hear him say these haunting words to me.
“You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, Akasha, why would I ever let you go?”
•••••
I jerk awake and cough to clear my throat. I go to move except my body is tied up. But in a way that makes me look spread out like some attraction.
I glance around and see I’m somewhere unknown. And I’m completely naked. The panic starts to set in but it stops as soon as I smell his scent.
“QIMIR!” I scream his name as my eyes try to look for him. “I know you’re near! I can smell you! Show yourself!” I scream, in hopes that someone will hear me.
Someone did…
He did…
“I see you’re awake. Good.” Qimir says with a soft smile on his face. “What the fuck is going on! Where am I? Why and I here!” I shout at him, ignoring the cutting sensation from the ropes.
He pulls up a chair and sits down right in front of me. He stares at me as if I didn’t just ask him a barrage of questions. “You know you are a heavy sleeper. It was like I was dragging a dead body in here. Oh! This is my place by the way. It’s on a remote island so no one can disturb us.” He smiles big as if kidnapping me was something to be proud of.
“Why am I here?” I spat at him. Qimir looks at me as if I’m a piece of art to be gawked at. The way the ropes bite into my skin, I know they’ll leave marks and burns.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re here because I want you here.” He brushes his thumb against his bottom lip and continues to stare…study me. I begin to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.
“Why am I tied up like this? I’m not some prized piece of meat!” He leans forward and strokes his hand against the fatty flesh of my thigh. “Because you look pretty….You are a female Venus Fly. Rare even when your people were alive and thriving. What was the ratio? For every fifteen boys, only three girls would be born. And I do like to collect rare things. But you? You, Akasha not only are you rare but you’re deadly. I have great use for you.”
I give him a bewildered look. “You’re fucking craz-” He gets up knocking the chair over and he had his hand gripping my jaw. “Don’t call me that, I’m not crazy. I see we have to start some lessons on teaching you how to have manners and respect for others.”
“GET OFF OF ME YOU BASTARD!” I scream at him, but all he does is smile. “You know now you’re screaming and yelling but soon you’ll worship me like a God. And I’ll be sure to reward you.” He takes his other hand and he trails his three fingers down my bare flesh, slowly getting closer to my exposed pussy.
“Stop.” I say as I feel him near my pubic hairs. “Do you know how much restraint I had to have, tying you up like this? The temptation I had to open this pretty little thing and slide anything it in just to watch your reaction?” He parts my wet lips and I feel my clit spasm.
“You wanted to sodomize me? You’re no better than-“ He makes me eat my words when he slides his middle finger inside of me while he uses his other two fingers to rub my lips.
My body responds to his touch which makes me angry. “S…stop.” I stutter to him. He leans in close to my ear. “Your lips are telling me to stop but these sets of lips seem to be telling me another story. As a matter of fact, how about her and I get better acquainted.”
Qimir slides his finger out of me and my pussy misses the violation. I see him get on his knees for me and he looks up at me, as if I’m a deity of some sort and he’s is there to worship.
I watch him lean in close to inhale my sex and I want to shrink back from him but in my attempts the ropes dig deeper into my skin.
“You smell so sweet, I wonder if the taste is the same.” He leans in and I feel his tongue flicking across my clit.
I clamp my lips shut to keep from moaning but he makes it a challenge as he grips my roped hips and buries his face deep into my pussy.
My eyes roll back as I feel his tongue twirl and flick across my clit. He presses his tongue flat against my pussy and my body tries to rock to find more friction.
“Careful, one false move and you could cause more rope burn, Akasha. But you like a little pain and pleasure don’t you?” Qimir asks as he opens my lips wider and slides his tongue deep inside of me.
This time I let the moan slip out. I feel him smiling against my sex and I don’t care. I need a release. I need to use his face.
“P…please.” I moan out as I look down at him, eating me out. He shakes his head and now he’s only using the tip of his tongue. “If…you…want something…then…say…Master.” He says lazily twirling his tongue.
“Please Master.” I whine. “I need to come.” He gives a deep guttural chuckle. “Look at you, moaning like a bitch in heat. I won’t forgive you for calling me crazy. But I’m not that cruel of a master.” He gives a hard suck to my clit causing me to groan and then he gets up off of his knees.
I was breathing heavy as I watch him grab something from his table.
A light saber.
My body tenses from the memories in my past of how much damage something like that can cause.
He lights it and the hue is blood red. He brings it close to me and I fight the urge to flinch. The heat from the saber could melt even the finest hairs on a person or animals skin.
“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’ll never use this part on you…just this part.” He turns the saber off and flips it so the handle it near me.
“Tell me, will you let me be your master? Will you let me teach you how to be the perfect predator?” As he asks me, I feel him rub the handle of the saber against my swollen clit and I shudder as I stupidly nod.
I don’t say a word from the fear and in his eyes I can tell he knows I’m afraid of the saber. “Akasha…you had a lot to say earlier. Why aren’t you being so colorful with your words now?” He slides the handle in slowly causing my eyes to roll back but my body stiffens again.
“Does this scare you? Does this give you pleasure?” He strokes the handle against my entrance and I let a nod go. “Pl-”
“Ah, what do you say?”
“Master…please. Don’t do that.” I moan out as he slides the handle in slowly. “Don’t do what? Slide the handle of my saber inside of the needy plump pussy? You don’t want me to make you feel good?” He whispers against my ear as his hand finds my throat.
The fear I have gets clouded when starts to slowly fuck me with the saber. I feel the build up in my lower stomach as I moan.
“See? Your body likes to feel good. It likes when I do this, but imagine how it’s going to feel when I use the real thing. When my cock is penetrating deep into your walls.”
He goes faster and my moans become more lose my from lips. My thighs burn from the rope and from the tension I have in them.
You can hear the wet noises coming from my soaking wet slit and I don’t care. I want a release.
“You’re taking it so well, my little flower. I bet you want to come don’t you?” I nod quickly as he slows down the pace. I try to buck my hips but I can’t from my restricting position. He raises a brow at me then. “Yes! Yes I do Master. Please!” I beg and plead.
He loosens his grip on my throat and he fucks me harder with the saber making my climax about to hit the tipping point.
“I’m gonna come.” I breathe out as I feel the anticipated tingle. But he stops, he yanks the saber out and tosses it across the room and I give out a shriek of frustration.
“Now would a crazy person deny a creature such as yourself the pleasure of coming? Don’t answer that, you might tell me the wrong answer and piss me off-” He grabs me by my tangled curls and yanks my head back, causing the rope around my shoulders and shoulder blades to tighten.
“You belong to me now, Akasha. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence is mine. And when I see fit to let you come, it will be on my cock, my mouth, or my fingers. Do you understand? You can speak.” He orders as he looks me in my eyes.
“Yes.” I say through clenched teeth. “Yes what?” He asks with a raised brow. “Yes master…”
“Good girl.” He lets me go and kisses my temple. “Get some rest, we have some training to do tomorrow.” He lets me go and simply walks away, leaving me strung up like some prize that’s been won.
The very second I get the chance, I’m going to kill Qimir. I should’ve known that his scent would lead me to the devils playpen…
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chibieggplant · 6 months
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~ Baby bump ~
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Sanji, talking to your baby bump while you’re asleep, Just pure fluff tbh
Sanji walks faster to his room desperate to see you after he finished cooking up dinner. When he gets to the room where he had left you in, he immediately walks through the door, where he sees you sleeping soundly on the bed. His face instantly lights up, he goes over to you and smiles as he sits down on the bed careful not to wake you up. He gently places a hand on your stomach leaning closer as he begins to speak softly…
“Hi my little one…” He leans a little bit closer, his smile remaining on his face.
“I missed you…I missed both of you” He looks up lovingly at your sleeping face.
“Mommy is right here, she’s going to keep you healthy, and I’m also going to be there to protect and take care of you as well.”
“I’m so excited to see what you will look like when you’re born. Will you look like mommy? Or will you look like me?…”
He chuckles softly “Mommy is really beautiful…so I hope you look like her…she’s on a whole new level…”
He looks away from your stomach and back down at you sleeping soundly. He smiles as he speaks again.
“Mommy is really lovely. I really love her…I love….”
He stops speaking as he blushes slightly. After letting out a small chuckle he shakes his head and clears his throat as he continues to speak.
“Sorry. I just…love her so much.”
He shakes his head again as he tries to stop himself from smiling any further. He rubs his cheeks as he realises he’s blushing and how much he’s been praising you.
“Yeah…I…love her so much.”
He leans down once again to your stomach once more and places his hand on it. He’s in awe as he feels the baby moving around inside of you as he feels how strong the baby is already.
“Mommy said that the way you move and kick makes you look really strong…i’m glad…i’m happy…”
He stays quiet as he feels the baby move around again, this time feeling a kick that was quite prominent on his hand. He chuckles softly to himself.
“That kick is pretty strong already…maybe you’ll take more after me…”
He continues to himself chuckle a little bit. The baby kept moving around and kicking as he kept his hand against your stomach. His whole face is filled with happiness right now as he feels how strong and lively his child already is.
“Just don’t give her too much of a hard time, okay? She’s precious so you need to be careful.”
After a moment he smiles again feeling another kick. It was a gentle feeling but he feels like it was intentional, like as if the baby was listening to him.
“You heard what I just said…so you better not be too much of a trouble in there, you hear me?”
The kicks die down and he can’t help but feel a bit sad but he assumes that the baby might be going back to sleep. He continues to keep his hand on her stomach, not wanting to remove it just yet.
He starts humming a soft tune as he waits for any movement to start once more. After a few moments he speaks up, hoping to talk to the baby as he keeps his hand there.
“You okay in there little one?…are you just relaxing?”
You stir in your sleep a little bit and wake up to hear Sanji talking to you belly.
He sighs a little as it’s been quiet for a while. Leaning his head in closely to your stomach and whispers a bit more…
“C’mon. Come back…I want to talk with you…”
“Are you having a conversation with the baby?”
Sanji hears you awakening and looks up from your stomach immediately. He quickly clears his throat as he looks up at you.
“Uh…n-no…I was...I was just checking on the baby...you know…I….I was just talking to him”
“Oh it’s a him is it?”
He blushes at your teasing and he nods his head as he speaks. “Yeah…I have a feeling that a he’s a strong and good boy…he’s going to be just like his dad….”
“Well If he’s anything like his dad then I’ll be more than happy”
He nods slowly still blushing slightly. “I feel like he will be though. I mean he can already kick very hard…he almost kicked my hand off….”
“Yeah I know, he doesn’t stop” You grumble.
Sanji chuckles a little “I mean I guess I can see where he gets that from…”
He lays down next to you wrapping his arms around you and laying his head down on your chest. He closes his eyes relaxing into and he swears this is the happiest he’s ever felt.
“I love him already…I love both of you”
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veneerslipstick · 10 months
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⋆.ೃwe’ll live forever࿔*:・
veneer x GN!reader
one shot
fluff
you are helping veneer get ready for his next show. you both have had crushes on each other since you were kids, and all you two wanted to do was confess your undying love for each other, and the only thing stopping you was velvets disapproval and judgment.
but, that doesn’t stop the tension between you two when you’re alone…
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“y/n, get in here.”
you hear Velvet speaking from the radio that was
attached to your chest, which helped the twins
communicate with you easily whenever they needed
you. currently, you were in your own “ office “ (not
really privileged to you, but it’s where you got your
work done ) getting contracts ready for Velvet and
Veneer to sign. you weren’t very sure either of them
were even going to sign, but you were just doing your
job. you fumbled your hands to hold the speak
button of the radio and stood up rapidly from your
chair.
“yes, Violet. on my way,”
you gathered your papers and tapped them upright
on the table a few times to make them even, then
you dashed out the door and to their dressing room.
you didn’t like to admit it, but every time that Violet
called you to their room, you couldn’t help but feel
excited to see her brother, Veneer. whenever she was
being uptight or just plain rude, Veneers little jokes or
just the sound of his voice made the room feel a lot
less tiny. you’re anxious quite a bit , and perhaps he
picked up on it, because even just a softened gaze
from him helps you ease up.
you were a little like him, in a way. both of you thrive
to find approval from those higher than you, and in
your case it was both of them and HR.
it didn’t really take much for Veneer to like you,
though.
you arrived to their door, and knocked gently but
hard enough to have them hear you. oftentimes you
were scared of knocking too loud, since Violet
doesn’t like to be interrupted by obnoxiously loud
sounds…that’s really the only thing you can relate to
her with.
the door opened, and you saw Veneer standing there
with a warming smile on his face, and his hair looking
a little…eccentric. gel clearly wasn’t put in the right
way, strands falling out, and it was tilted to the side?
the sight made you blush, and you couldn’t help but
smile back, gripping the papers a little more tightly in
your hands.
“hello, Ven-“
“Y/N!”
you and Veneer jolted from velvets snappy tone, and
the door was whipped all the way open, tearing it
away from Veneers grip.
you are greeted with a
moderately-infuriated Velvet who looked upset but
also stressed. she then grabbed Veneers wrist and
pulled him towards a dresser chair, forcing him down
and pointing at him, one hand on her hip.
“okay, i CANNOT get his hair to cooperate. or
ANYTHING!”
she exclaimed, throwing her hands in
the air as if she was trying to strangle her own brain.
she pointed to the closet and stomped her foot
down.
“i had to put crimp in there because even SHE couldn’t do it ! i- just-“
she was obviously stressed out, and you showed her
a small smile.
“i understand. here,” you handed her the papers. “if
you can just throw a few signatures on here, i’ll fix
him up for you. i used to do a bit of hair dressing in
university, i’m sure i’ll be able to do something.”
her gaze softened for a moment, like she was
relaxed, but it was instantly back to a stubborn look,
and she snatched the papers from you.
“fine.” she sneered, and grabbed a pen from the
vanity. “i’ll be back, i have to go see a couple of
snobby interviewers before the show.” she notified,
approaching and opening the door. her back towards
you, she stopped.
“..thank you.”
she slammed the door, you and Veneer jolting again.
it was silence for a moment, until you cleared your
throat. “okay, let me figure this out.” you start
grabbing scissors, gel, hairspray, a comb, and bobby
pins to prepare yourself. Veneer watches you as you
speak to yourself and collect your train of thought.
he stares a little longer than he should.
you then turn him around in the chair and step
closer, your chest almost pressed against the back of
him. you clench your jaw and are instantly flooded
with the scent of 100 toxins from his hair, which you
found sort of nice. you start to drag your fingers
through his crunchy hair, easily getting knots out so
you don’t hurt him.
“you didn’t have to do this,” he says quietly, watching
you in the mirror as you comb through his hair.
you smile at him without making eye contact.
“oh, i know. i want to. it’s fun.” you say in an almost
monotone voice since you were concentrating. he
doesn’t respond , only admires you. you start to work
your magic, pinning up chunks of hair and letting
some fall, costing your hands with gel and infesting
his nest with hairspray. it was time to move to the
front, but a strand you had in your hand had to
stretch to that direction.
you walk around Veneer, your arms basically
wrapped around him, and stand in front of him whilst
pinning up that strand of hair you had in your hand.
this position seemed to last a little longer than it
should have, as you were shaking from nervousness.
you held your breath , anxious that he would feel it on
him.
you back away for a second, looking at your progress
so far, and he looked up at you with his big beady
eyes , as if he was just waiting for you to do
something. you tried to shake off the tension, but it
didn’t help when you had to get up in his face to fix
the obnoxiously huge wave in hair.
and there you were, your hands all up in his hair, your
faces inches apart, and all you could think about was
if his green lipstick tasted like lime.
you were nearly done, you would be able to breathe
in 10 seconds, when you two locked eyes. you didn’t
notice how flushed in the face he was until now. his
lips were slightly parted, his eyes gleamed as he
searched your eyes.
he shifted in his seat, and you backed away, letting
out a shaky exhale.
“o-okay, your hair is done. i’ll re touch your makeup.”
you said nervously , picking up his stick of lipstick
that was next to his sisters. you leaned close to him
once more, held his chin like you would your
favourite book, and swiped his bottom lip very
carefully. then, he had jerked his head oh so slightly
to the side, causing a smudge. you just stood there
thinking ‘shit , i need to wipe that off,’.
if only that’s what you were really thinking.
before you could comprehend your next action, he
muttered your name in a whisper and reached his
head forward, pressing his stained lips to your tinted
ones. you dropped the stick of lipstick, your hand
still in the air , and let yourself melt into the feeling.
your heads simultaneously titled as a natural flow of
kissing started, and Veneers fingers danced on the
skin of your forearms. you could feel the energy
coming off of him, how he desired more passion of
your slow, sweet kisses, but he was already drunk off
of what you were giving him now.
then he stood, leaning you gently against the vanity,
putting one hand on the platform and the other
snaked around your waist to support you. you kept
yours on his shoulders, not wanting to mess up his
hair, but he couldn’t care less.
he wanted you.
pulling away from each other, you both caught your
breaths, your eyes still closed to capture what just
happened. you felt his right hand take yours, your
fingers intertwining as he left a trail of kisses down
your jaw and rested his forehead on the crook of your
neck, smiling against you.
“Veneer…” you whisper, nudging your shoulder to
make him lift his head. he hummed in response and
looked at you, a sly smile on his face. you felt
flustered , trying to turn your head away but he used
his cheek to guide your face back towards him,
giving you a soft kiss in return. you then feel alarmed
and pushed him back slightly.
“ shit ! you have to GO, Velvet is going to kill you,
fuck, your makeup isn’t done, i-“
Veneer cut you off with a finger to your lips, waiting
for you to be quiet before backing away, putting his
shoulder pads on.
“I don’t care , dear. it’s a look, some fan will love it.”
he winked at you and opened the door, turning his
head to look at you.
“doesn’t it tell them that i’m off limits anyway?” he
clearly teased and your mouth parted slightly in awe.
he chuckled, his eyes falling half open.
“meet me backstage after the show , y/n. maybe we
can ruin the lipstick a little more.”
you stood there in disbelief.
˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .
i hope u guys enjoyed this, my writing isn’t terrific 😞 if u have any suggestions about making Veneers character more realistic or just ideas for more one shots pls lmk !!! p.s im open to doing all genders for Veneer , i just wanted to stay neutral for my first fic <33
829 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Whimsical! reader with remus where they were previously doing long distance but then reader moves in with remus and sees snow for the first time? She's all :O at the snow and he's all :D at her like he's just mesmerized and thinking of how much he loves her and how cute and perfect she looks to him and how much he wants a home with her<3😩
(If you write this, can you add a bit of their ldr! Before moving in And the other boys?)
Ily! You're an actual saint<3
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! I couldn’t quite figure out how to work in the other boys without it feeling forced (at least to me) but I hope the rest is alright <3
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.1k words
It had taken a lot of coaxing to get you to go to sleep the night before. You’d been glued to the window, watching with wide, awestruck eyes as little crystals drifted down to the earth, glowing under the streetlights and crisp white against the dark sky. Remus isn’t sure if he’d ever felt so peaceful, watching you watch the snow, your cheek resting on your folded hands as the darkness outside grew deeper and the fire in the grate smoldered down to nothing. You’d spent a few minutes out in it earlier, before Remus convinced you it’d be way more fun in the morning, once the snow had a chance to pile up. Even so, you’d been reluctant to let it out of your sight. 
So he can’t say he’s surprised that he’d woken up this morning to see your side of the bed already empty. 
He finds you in the same place you’d been last night, perched on the edge of the couch, looking out at the pristine layer of snow that glitters in the sunlight. You’re already dressed. 
“I thought you’d be outside,” he admits. 
You turn around, looking even happier than usual to see him. “I wanted to wait for you,” you say. “Are you ready to go out?”
Remus’ heart swells. He presses his lips together, feeling his mouth curve anyway. “Yeah, I can be ready. You should’ve woken me, dove.”
He goes to the coat closet, pulling out his jacket and a spare for you. He grabs some too-small boots, too. Neither of you had thought about the fact that you don’t own any real winter wear until the snow came in last night, so his things will have to do for now. He finds a pair of gloves Lily forgot last spring that should fit you. 
“I didn’t mind waiting,” you tell him, stepping into the boots. “It’s fun just to look at. So pretty.” 
“Mhm.” Remus can think of something else that’s pretty, but it’s too early in the morning for flirting. 
You keep glancing out the window while you tug on gloves, a jacket. He’s never seen you this excited. It’s so adorable Remus isn’t sure his heart can stand it. He plops a hat on your head and spots your hands trembling slightly, just enough to give you trouble with the buttons on your coat. Remus pushes them aside gently, doing the buttons himself. 
When you step out into the crisp air, the first thing you do is put a boot in the snow. It sinks in nearly up to your knee. You look back at Remus, wonderstruck. Then you turn around and tip back, waving your arms this way and that to make an angel in the fresh powder. He has to help you out of it once you’re done. 
He shows you how to pat the snow between your mitts to make a snowball, and you throw one right at the front of his jacket. Your laughter rings out, as crisp and clear as a silver bell. Remus makes a mental note to never let you enter into a snowball fight with James and Sirius; they go right for the face, and you’re too kind to retaliate. 
When you make a snowman, you insist upon going inside to grab some of your rocks and things to make his face. He ends up with dried flowers for a smile and heterochromia. 
It’s only once Remus realizes how much snow has ended up in your boots that he makes you go inside. He makes hot chocolate while you lay your clothes out in front of the fire and barrage him with questions. 
“Do you ever see those little white foxes when it snows like this?” 
“Arctic foxes? No, not really. I think they mostly stay in the arctic.” 
“What about white owls?” 
“I think I’ve seen some lighter ones before, but not completely white. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” 
“Will we have a fire every night that it’s snowy?” 
“If you want.” Remus sets your hot chocolate in front of you, the mug heaping with marshmallows. “Careful, dove, it’s hot.” 
You take it and smile at him. “Thanks.” You look back out the window, blowing on it gently. 
Remus grins as he watches you. Your cheeks are still flushed from the cold and your eyelashes are wet, the flakes that had been caught in them melting. The air between you smells like hot chocolate, woodsmoke, and hominess. He wants to do this with you every day. 
It’s impossible not to think about how much has changed since you moved in. Just a couple of weeks ago, he would’ve woken up thinking about how long it would be until he could call you. He would’ve complained about the cold over the phone and you would’ve hmm-ed sympathetically in that gentle way of yours before admitting that the cold actually sounds pretty nice to you. Remus would have been sitting right where he is now, looking out the window by himself and describing the snow to you, hearing your voice in his ear rather than watching the rise and fall of your shoulders in front of him. 
Today, he got to wake up knowing that if you weren’t next to him, you were nearby. He got to see the delight on your face, button your coat for you, bury your hot chocolate in marshmallows. He gets to watch your damp lashes twitch, pretty eyes moving from the window to his face.
“What’re you thinking of?” you ask, turning in your seat to face him. 
It’s still too early for flirting, but not perhaps for earnestness. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he tells you. 
Your lips curve, and you take your hot chocolate in one hand, using the other to intertwine Remus’ fingers with your own. Your palm is warm from the mug.
“I’m glad, too,” you say, leaning forward to peck him on his chin.
Remus sets his mug aside to chase you down for more, grasping the side of your face as he sets his lips to yours. Fuck, you’re lovely. So lovely his chest is aching with it. Lovely inherently, and also for letting him do this, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Your lips curve against each other, a mirror image. Remus’ heart feels full to bursting. 
“Do you think we can stay here today?” you ask him, index finger rubbing against his and chin bumping into his own. “We could watch a movie, and I’d like to collect some pine cones if I can.” 
Remus presses another gentle kiss to your lips. “That sounds perfect.” His voice is raspy with want and tenderness, and you rub his finger again in understanding. 
You push your nose into his. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” you repeat.
515 notes · View notes
joelmillerisapunk · 8 months
Text
I'll never stop makin' you feel this good
bfd!joel miller x f!reader
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masterlist
↳ wordcount: 3,795
↳ summary: After returning to your hometown, you reconnect with your childhood friend Sarah and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. As you spend time with him, you can't deny the spark between you, and soon you find yourself on a date with Joel, where things quickly heat up and the chemistry between you becomes impossible to ignore.
~or~
↳ a dom!daddy date
↳ warnings: 18+, dom!Joel, implied age gap, light spanking, fingering, light male masterbation, public stuff? But nothing too wild.
↳ notes: my favorite line became the title since I couldn't find a song I liked. Ty @saradika-graphics as always for the dividers 💓 and tysm for the love and support on all my fics so far. As a brand new writer its been so incredibly validating. I've gained so many amazing followers, moots, and friends in the like two weeks I've been here. I LOVE YOU ❤️
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After being away for several years to pursue your dreams of becoming a marine biologist, you return to your hometown to visit your family and your childhood friend Sarah Miller and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. Sarah was like a sister to you growing up, and you were excited to catch up with her and see how much she had grown.
As you walk up to the Miller's house, you can't help but feel a little nostalgic. You and Sarah used to play in the front yard for hours, pretending to be superheroes and exploring the neighborhood.
Joel greets you with a warm smile as he opens the door. "Howdy kiddo. Missed seein’ ya around," he says, extending his hand for a friendly handshake. And as your hand meets his, he takes in your appearance, he can't help but notice how much you've grown up, how much more mature you've become. He quickly clears his throat, trying to tame his thoughts.
You grin and shake his hand. "Hey, Mr. Miller. It's good to be back," you reply, trying to hide your nervousness.
"Mr. Miller makes me sound old. Just call me Joel,” he says, chuckling.
You giggle, "alright Joel it is."
Joel nods and stands straight. "Well, kiddo, how've you been? You look good."
"I've been really good, Mr. Miller - uh Joel. College is going well," you reply, feeling a little more at ease.
"College, huh? And what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Joel asks.
You giggle. “I'm not exactly five anymore, but I'm going to school to be a marine biologist," you say, your eyes sparkling with excitement.
Joel's face lights up in surprise. "Marine biologist... that's gotta be one dangerous job. You know, I saw a show on Netflix once about shark attacks. I thought a pretty thing like you shouldn't be near those monsters, they'll eat'cha whole."
You chuckle, "Yeah, they're quite terrifying, but I might have learned a thing or two in school.” You wink playfully.
“And just what do you learn about shark attacks in marine biology school?” Joel asks, skeptical.
You smile. “ Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep my professors in the loop," you reply, trying to keep a straight face.
Joel can't help but smirk, “alright darlin’, and moves to the side to let you inside.
After a few hours of catching up and reminiscing about old times with Sarah, it's time for you to leave. But just as you're about to head out the door, Joel stops you. "Uh hey, listen, could I interest you in dinner sometime? I know a good steakhouse nearby. I think we could have a good time and catch up," he says, with a hopeful expression on his face.
Caught off guard, you're unsure if he's asking you on a date, but it feels innocent enough, so you agree. "Yah, that'd be nice, Joel," you say, trying to keep a straight face. Secretly hoping it was intended for more.
"Great! I'll pick you up at eight, okay? Here, I'll text you the name of the place, and you can look it up if you'd like," Joel says, as he hands you his phone with the contact app already open.
You take his phone and place your number in it.
"Thanks, kiddo. Hey, you okay? You look a little anxious for a steak dinner," Joel says, noticing your nervousness.
"Not at all, looking forward to it," you reply, with a confident smile. You place a hand gently on his arm, feeling a warmth radiate between you two.
Joel smiles and says, "Alright, kiddo. I'll see you later, then."
"See ya later, Joel," you say, as you walk out the door, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for your dinner date with Joel.
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You're excited as you wait for Joel to pick you up for your dinner date. When he arrives, he knocks at your door, and when you open it, he says, "You ready to eat some steak, kiddo?"
You open the door, ready as ever. “Joel, you don't have to keep calling me kiddo. I'm not a child anymore.”
“Alright, darlin’, let's get going, then.” He holds out his hand, and you take it. When you get to his car, he opens the car door for you. You hurry in, eager to spend time with Joel.
“There's some great steak at this restaurant. You'll love the atmosphere there, it's a classy place. The staff is professional, not chatty, and very good customer service.” He smiles as he puts his car in gear and starts driving”
You smile and look forward as he drives. “I can't wait.”
When you arrive, he gets out and opens the door for you, then locks up his car. “Ladies first. That's how me and your old man were raised.” He laughs as you walk toward the restaurant.
You chuckle, “such a gentleman.” You get to a big glass door, a maitre d' greets you and seats you in a booth at a table for two. “Doesn't look too crowded tonight.” He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair.
You take your coat off as well, revealing a very fitted dress. “It's beautiful, Joel.”
He looks at you and smiles, staring at you for a second “You look beautiful, very nice dress. You're much more grown up now than the last time I saw you.”
You feel yourself getting warm as you sit down, “thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” You manage to wink at Joel.
He laughs, “I'm sure you've got a lotta boys chasin’ you.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing you up and down before he continues, “that dress sure does suit you darlin’.” He grins mischievously.
You giggle, “well not exactly the boys I want to be chasing me.” You grin at him playfully. “I'm glad you like it, I just got it, actually.”
“Oh? And who exactly are you hoping to chase you.”
“I dunno, someone a little older, strong, I'm tired of boys.” You look into his eyes. “A real man who knows how to take care of a woman.”
He grins, leaning in a bit “So, you like a dominant man, huh? Would you say I fit the bill?”
You're a little surprised by Joel's straightforwardness but lean in closer, testing the waters a bit. “Well, I'm not so sure just how dominant you are, Mr. Miller, I might need you to show me.” You wink, biting your bottom lip.
He leans in even closer across the table and whispers in your ear. “Don't talk like that, or you're gonna get me all riled up. A girl like you should be careful about what you say.”
You whisper breathily in his ear, "I like a little danger.”
His eyes widen, shocked that you would say something so…naughty. “Are you tryin’ to get me to do something at the dinner table?” He says in a hushed tone. “Don't tempt me, baby.”
“Yes, sir.” You sit back and wink at him, liking his authoritative behavior but still feeling a bit defiant. You run your foot up his leg till it hits his thigh, your gaze locked onto his eyes.
He grins, placing his hand on your leg, slowly moving it up your dress, “You're playing with fire, darlin’.” His hand slowly makes its way up your leg, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.
You look into his eyes and challenge him, "Hmm, well, what exactly would you do with a girl like me?"
Joel's hand is now resting on your inner thigh, and you can feel his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. He leans in closer to you, "I think you already know what I'd do to you." You feel a shiver run down your spine.
The waiter comes to your table and asks if everything is alright, but you barely register his presence. All you can focus on is the feeling of Joel's hand on your thigh and the way his eyes are burning into yours. Joel leans back in his chair and sips his wine, never taking his eyes off of you. You can feel your heart racing as you stare back at him, wondering what he's going to do next.
The waiter brings your wine that Joel ordered, and you take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body. Joel's hand is still on your thigh, and you can feel him slowly sliding it up higher and higher.
"I love the way you breathe when I touch you. Makes me feel all-powerful." Joel's voice is filled with desire, and you can't help but feel the same way.
You look at him, challenging him, "You think you can tame me, Mr. Miller?"
Joel grins, "I don't like the word tame. I prefer the word... break. If I'm gonna take charge, I'm gonna take it completely, and this dress of yours ain't survivin' the night."
Your heart is pounding in your chest as Joel's hand reaches the top of your thigh. You can feel his fingers lightly grazing your wet panties, and you gasp at the sensation. "Think you can handle this old cowboy darlin’?" Joel's voice is low and dangerous, and you can feel yourself getting lost in his eyes.
You nod, unable to speak, as Joel's fingers start to move in slow circles over your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you moan softly as Joel's fingers quicken their pace. Suddenly, Joel pulls his hand away, leaving you wanting more. He stands up, offering to help you up as well. "You really think I’d let a pretty thing like you come in public? Come on, it’s time for us to eat in private."
You follow Joel out of the restaurant, feeling dizzy with lust. You can barely believe what just happened. As you walk to Joel's car, you can feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards his black Mustang. You slide into the passenger seat, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. Joel starts the car, and you take off towards Joel's place.
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You feel so innocent and young next to Joel, but you love the feeling. You follow him through his house until you reach a small room with a couch, a TV on one side, and a fireplace on the other. Joel pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body.
He goes back to the kitchen to just grab the entire bottle. You make your way around, looking at all his stuff. You pick up a small carving, accidentally dropping it on the floor and bending over to pick it up, but your dress doesn't fully cover you. Joel walks back at the perfect time and can see everything, but you don't notice, so he's quiet and sets the bottle down before moving toward you.
"Oh, I like this little maneuver of yours,” Joel's voice is low and gravelly as he takes in the sight of you bent over, your dress riding up to reveal your lacy underwear. He steps closer to you, his hand tracing a path between your legs, stopping just shy of your center. "I like it a lot," he growls, his breath hot on your neck.
You gasp as you feel his fingers brush against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You're unable to resist the urge to push back against him, wanting more of his touch. Joel takes advantage of your position, his fingers slipping beneath your underwear as he explores your wet folds. You moan softly, your head falling back as he teases you with his touch.
"So, so wet for me," Joel murmurs in your ear, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I can feel how much you want me.” You can't deny it - you want him more than you've ever wanted anyone before. You push back against him, trying to get him to give you more. Joel chuckles, his fingers stilling for a moment before he gives you what you want. He plunges two fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You cry out in pleasure, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. But just as you're about to come, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting. You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading for more.
He grins wickedly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Not yet, darlin’ hold on for me.” Joel stands up, walking over to the fireplace and stoking the flames. You can't take your eyes off of him, watching as he moves with a confidence and authority that makes your heart race.
He turns back to you, his eyes blazing with desire. "Take off your dress. I want to see you." You hesitate for a moment, but the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not going to take no for an answer. You stand up straight, reaching behind you to unzip your dress. As the dress falls to the ground, you stand before Joel in nothing but your underwear. He lets out a low whistle, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he growls, his eyes dark with desire.
You feel a shiver run down your spine as Joel's eyes roam over your body. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed - and yet so wanted. Joel reaches down, adjusting himself as he stares at you. "Take off your underwear, too. I want to see all of you."
You nod, your hands shaking as you slip your underwear down your legs. You step out of them, standing before Joel completely naked. He lets out a low groan, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. Joel reaches down, pulling his cock out of his jeans and boxers. He starts stroking himself, his eyes never leaving yours. "Watch me darlin’. Watch as I stroke my cock, thinking about all the things I'm gonna to do to you."
You can't take your eyes off of him as he strokes himself, his hand moving up and down his shaft. You've never seen anything so hot before. You watch as Joel continues to stroke himself, his eyes locked on yours. You can feel your body responding to the sight of him touching himself.
"C'mere darlin," he beckons, patting the space beside him. As you move to sit next to him, his fingers begin to trace a path up your leg, inching closer and closer to your wet center. Once there, his touch becomes more deliberate, circling your clit with a gentle touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his skilled fingers.
He stops for a moment and with a firm but gentle grip, Joel guides you to turn over, positioning you face down, ass up on the couch, he finds your clit quickly again as his other hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the small room. The sting of his hand on your skin only serves to heighten your arousal. His hand comes down on your backside once again, the sound of his palm against your skin filling the room. The mixture of pleasure and pain is intoxicating, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Joel smirks, his hand coming down again and again, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that leaves you dizzy.
"You like that, don't you?" Joel's voice is low and rough, his fingers still moving in slow circles over your clit. "You like it when I take charge, when you don’t have to do anything but what I tell you, no thinkin’ just doin’."
You nod, unable to speak. It's true - you do like it. You like the way Joel makes you feel helpless, his to do with as he pleases. Joel growls, his fingers plunging deep inside you again. This time, he doesn't stop, his hand moving faster and faster as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
You moan louder, your hips bucking up to meet his hand. Joel's other hand comes down on your ass again, only adding to the pleasure. Finally, Joel's fingers still, his fingers resting deep inside you as you come hard. You cry out, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.
Joel pulls his fingers out of you slowly, holding them up to your lips. "Taste yourself. See how sweet you are." You open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste your own juices. It's unlike anything you've ever tasted before, and you can't get enough.
Joel smirks, his hand moving up to your hair. He grips it tightly, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You're mine now, and I'll do whatever I want with you." All you can do is whimper in excitment, your heart racing in your chest. You've never felt so alive. Joel releases your hair, his hand moving back down to your thigh. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.
You lean back against the couch, feeling boneless and sated. Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you scream, again and again and again."
Joel stands up, his hands moving to the buttons on his own shirt. You watch as he undoes each one, revealing his muscular chest and arms. Your eyes widen as he kicks off his shoes and socks, followed by his pants and boxers. His cock stands at attention, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation. Joel's eyes follow your gaze, a smirk crossing his lips. "Like what you see, darlin'?" Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to grab your ass.
Joel lifts you up with ease, his strong arms supporting your weight as your legs wrap around his waist. You can feel the head of his cock lightly brush against you, causing you to gasp at the contact. He takes a moment to look into your eyes, a smoldering gaze that makes your heart race.
With a gentle yet firm grip, he guides his cock to your entrance, teasing you with small thrusts that make you squirm with anticipation. You can feel how wet and ready you are for him, your body begging for more.
Joel then slowly pushes himself into you, filling you up completely. You let out a moan as he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside you. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. You can feel the warmth and tension building up inside you, your body responding to his cock sitting inside you.
With ease, Joel carries you upstairs to his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. Once he reaches the bed, he tosses you down onto it, his body following you down. He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with his cock. "You ready for me, darlin'?"
You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Joel thrusts inside you, filling you up completely. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move. His thrusts are hard and fast, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Joel's hands are on your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. "You like that, darlin'? You like it when I fuck you like a dirty little slut?" Joel growls, his fingers digging into your hips. You moan, your body responding to his words. “Tell me how much you like it, darlin'. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you," Joel commands, his fingers tightening around your hips.
"I love it. I love your cock inside me. Please, don't stop," you beg.
Joel smirks, "I'll never stop fucking you, darlin'. I'll never stop making you feel this good." Joel's thrusts become more erratic as he chases his own release, his cock driving deeper into you with each stroke. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body begging for release.
"Come for me, darlin'. Come all over my cock," Joel growls, his voice deep and raw with desire.
His fingers tighten around your hips, pulling you closer as he pounds into you. You can feel every inch of him, his thick cock stretching you wide as he fucks you hard and fast.
Your body trembles with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.
"Fuck, I'm close," he growls, his breath hot against your neck.
You can feel him tensing up, his cock swelling inside you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.
With a loud groan, Joel stills, his cock buried deep inside you as he comes. You can feel him pulsing inside you, a feeling you never knew you'd love so much. Joel collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy as he pants against your neck.
You wrap your arms around him, feeling more content and satisfied than you ever have before. Joel's cock is still buried deep inside you, and you can feel him softening as he comes down from his high. You moan softly as he slips out of you, your body missing the feeling of him inside you.
Joel rolls over onto his back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You can see the satisfied look on his face, and you can't help but smile, your bodies entwined as you lay together.
Joel's cock is still glistening with your juices, and you can't help but reach out and touch him. You wrap your hand around his softening length, feeling him twitch at your touch. "You feel amazing," you murmur, your fingers tracing the veins that run along the length of his cock.
Joel smiles, his hand reaching out to touch your face. "You're amazing," he replies, his voice soft and filled with emotion.
You lay there together, your bodies entwined as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You feel more connected to Joel than ever before, your bodies and souls intertwined as you lay there in the peaceful silence, content and fulfilled in each other's arms.
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thetravelingmaster · 3 months
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Short Story: Choosing Enthralment
Male's point of view - Hypnosis - Brainwashing - Conditioning
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“That’s it… Just sink deeper and deeper into trance… Deeper and deeper into blissful surrender … Deeper and deeper into thoughtless obedience…”
I’m not completely convinced, even though I explained it to her multiple times, that she fully understood what she was agreeing to when we negotiated the terms and limits of her hypnotic submission to me. There was no intent to trick her on my part because I was very clear about what I wished to achieve with her if she wished to dive into my control.
“Deeper and deeper… Reaching a place with no will of your own… No thoughts of your own… Sinking into blissful nothingness… Open and obedient… Letting go of everything inside your mind except the will of your Master.”
Saying she understood everything we talked about, she agreed to let me use hypnosis to conquer her mind and bend her to my will. She agreed that I could use any means available to make me her Master in her eyes. She was so eager… Excited and aroused by the idea of being brainwashed like one of those cartoon characters that ignited her kink when she saw them helplessly mind controlled as a teen.
“Feel my words reach into your mind… Expertly soothing you as they take hold of the mental collar that completely controls you… Completely commands you… That makes your mind… And your body… My property…”
Did she think hypnosis would be 100% effective with such an eager mind as hers? Did she believe that deep down, she wouldn’t truly be claimed and would simply play along to experience her kink? She was adamant that she knew it was real and that if I was good enough, she would truly be brainwashed.
I guess I still can’t quite believe that a young perky girl like her would so eagerly give up her freedom to become brainwashed and enslaved.
“Sinking deeper still… Sinking into the depths of your true self… Sinking to a place where my words can reshape your mind… Your thoughts… Your beliefs… You understand and embrace that deep down… At the core of your being… You are no longer a real person… You are the organic object I own and completely control… You exist to serve and obey…”
I took things slow of course…
Allowing her many opportunities to speak up and change her mind… Test her limits….
But with every session, she grew more and more excited by the results and the pleasure it gave her to let go and surrender to my will. So with every session, I accepted her submission by sinking my control ever deeper within her mind until one day, she realized that she no longer saw herself as an independent person, but as my helpless thrall.
It was so fascinating to watch her get so intensely aroused by the notion that when it came to my dominance and use of her, she no longer felt like she had a choice.
And by then, with the exception of her safe word, she really didn’t have a choice…
“Everything you are is mine to command and enjoy… Your mind is utterly open to my will… Easily changed and programmed for your Masters’s pleasure… Your body is a helpless tool that exists entirely to serve and please your Master…”
Up until a few weeks ago, she had been my thrall only when we met up or did online calls, but then she surprised me by asking, out of the blue, if I would consider letting her move in with me so she could be mine full time. I initially refused and told her to take the time to truly understand what she was asking. Which she supposedly did…
Her request didn’t waver one bit so I agreed to let her live with me for one week so she could really experience what it would mean to live with me. To be sure she understood, I was a lot harsher than usual with her and constantly tranced her or ordered her to do the most menial things that were clearly not erotic. I truly treated her like an object and to my surprise, the more I did the hornier she got.
“You are my hypnotic thrall… My obedient slave… You have no choice but to obey your Master… You cannot resist the words of your Owner… You are an object of pleasure… A warm enthralled sleeve for your Master’s cock… You exist to serve his pleasure whenever and however he wishes…”
I’d be lying if I said that our whole situation didn’t make me as excited and eager as her. Especially after that ‘trial week’ where I got to enjoy my very own live-in hypno-thrall and sex slave. It was clear we both wanted this so I felt bad for sticking to the high road by constantly telling her that she needed to take it slow and think about it.
As much as I insisted though, she insisted even more that she was eager to fully give herself to me and decided to prove it to me by offering me a special week living with her. Like the week before, she would live with me but unlike the previous week, I couldn’t hypnotize her or use any triggers on her. She wanted to prove to me that she was just as willing to serve me even if there was no hypnotic compulsion to force her to do so.
I obviously agreed and was just as commanding and harsh with her as I was the week before. I treated her like the slave she wanted to be and enjoyed her as much as I could without once feeling her resist or hearing her complain.
After such a wonderful show of devotion, I couldn’t keep denying her so I finally agreed to let her move in with me full time.
“Good… Very good… Now my dear… When I say the words ‘Awaken to your purpose’… Your mind will shift from deep trance to a state of waking trance… Your awareness will awaken, but you will not have the ability to think… You will stay perfectly mindless… Perfectly docile and kneel before me… You will have no other thought except your desire to serve my pleasure…”
Admittedly, her hypnotic subjugation reached new heights after that and if it wasn’t for the safe word I buried deep in her psyche, I’m pretty sure there’s no longer any tangible way for her to escape my control. I’ve given her exactly what she wished for and now, she truly believes, with all her aroused little heart, that she is nothing more than my property.
She’s allowed me to own every single inch of her and in so doing, gave me free rein on how I use her for my pleasure and service. Thanks to her daily files, she’s constantly compelled to perform her daily chores, keeping herself healthy and alluring. She has edged herself until her body could keep itself constantly aroused so that I may enjoy her pussy at a moment’s notice. She’s trained her mouth and throat every day so that she can properly suck my cock and fully deep-throat my modest girth.
Her whole life has become a carefully constructed series of trances and compelled tasks that effectively prevents her mind from thinking about anything except the moment she is in. No confusing or worrisome memories of the past to cause her stress… No anxious thoughts about what the future may or may not hold…
And since every moment of her life is filled with constant arousal and pleasure, her mind has zero desire to do anything except dive deeper into her present life of mind controlled service.
I still make a point to check in with her after she’s spent a few days free of trances or compulsion, but by now her new life has been so thoroughly conditioned into her mind by now that even awake and free from suggestions, she doesn’t want to be anything else. She’s as happy as a girl like her could possibly be and no one is able to convince otherwise.
I’m still convinced she didn’t quite understand what she was asking me to do to her, but since I gave her every opportunity and warning so she could keep her freedom, I’ve decided that I’m going to keep enjoying her until the day her safe word triggers. I’ll trust in her deep self to know when she’s had her fill of mindless servitude even though part of me thinks she never will and I’ll be able to keep this wonderful girl in a constant state of enthrallment and sexual servitude.
Or is that my own selfish hope?
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