#no thanks i already have a mount

[valkyurii]

legs open pussy facing the world not a single thought in her head

[ingravinoveritas]

Love seeing this clip show up on my TL again, and especially love seeing this comment on it...

[ocdhuacheng]

BROS I CAME HOME FROM WORK TO FIND THAT SOMEONE HAD GIVEN US A WHOLE ASS TELESCOPE‼️‼️‼️ FOR FREE‼️‼️‼️

[branwendaughterofllyr]

oh no, I’ve reached dragon logistics 

[kayliebeanie]

Project Dragon was a game that was in development for 3 years only to be canceled weeks from its announcement and its entire art and development team laid off. The game (which would have been called 'Everhaven' upon release) was intended to be a multiplayer sandbox rpg taking inspiration from both Minecraft and The Legend of Zelda, with an art style similar to that of the Spyro Reignited Trilogy, which some of the team members also worked on along with Crash Bandicoot 4.

According to character design/illustrator Nicholas Kole "Our cancelled project of the last 3 years is officially, truly dead as of today (internal attempts to save it failed), and the embargo on the whole body of portfolio work has been lifted". This means that the only way the game has a chance of resuming development is by raising awareness and spreading the word of it's development. More info from Nicholas Kole and #BringBackProjectDragon Even if you're not interested in the game itself, you can find the concept art, animations, 3D models, music and all other completed pieces of work for the game being shared by the team at either of these links, and I think are worth checking out. Some mounts and NPCs

4 of the 5 playable starter races (5th being human of course)

Edit: the decision to cancel the game was made by Forte, a blockchain company that acquired Phoenix Labs last year, who later decided to cancel all other projects so that the studio could focus on Dauntless and Fae Farm, Phoenix Labs' other already established games, rather than take the risk with this new IP.

I advise against sending any sort of hate towards Forte or Phoenix Labs and instead recommend continuing to share love for Everhaven and what it could have been until they realize their mistake.

Also thanks for 10k notes.

[ddejavvu]

this is depraved, but grinding on logan’s happy trail to get off 🫢

Hands Free - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni, mean!logan, drinking, don't like don't read.

You've caught Logan at a bad time. The surly mutant is a complicated man, and one with less psychological damage than him might be eager to whip it out whenever, but Logan isn't. He's busy brooding, and he's not to be interrupted when he's got a bottle in one hand and a cigar in the other.

But you need him. There's a pit in your belly that's only made worse by the scowl on his face, and your cunt aches beneath your now-slick panties for something to envelop. You're desperate for Logan to fuck you, but there's no way you'll convince him if he's not in the mood.

"I can feel you staring," He grumbles, eyes still cast to the floor as he takes another swig of burning liquor, "What do you want?"

There's no polite way to say you.

"Uhm," You shift on your feet, thighs clenched, "I'm just feeling- I'm a little, um, I-"

"Spit it out."

"I need you." You breathe, ashamed by the sentence, but Logan's face remains untouched, nothing moving but the lingering smoke from his smoldering cigar.

"I'm not in the mood." He grunts, like it isn't obvious.

"I- I know." You fall awkwardly silent again, rising onto your tiptoes and falling back to your heels. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Up-

"Don't make a mess." He shifts in the chair, lowering his hips until they're level with his abdomen, offering you the best seat in the house.

He's shirtless, which means that if you can't have his cock, or his fingers, you can get the next best thing. A combination of the friction from the waistband of his jeans, and his toned abs, blanketed with coarse, wiry hair.

You mount him eagerly, which isn't hard to do seeing as his chair has no arms. It's got a back so that he can lean against it, but your support system is his chest, where you firmly plant your hands in preparation to get yourself off.

There's a dark line of hair that trails from the bottom of his navel and disappears beneath his waistband, flanked on either side with a sharp line of muscle that tapers down towards his cock in a V. His body is a work of art, and you only wish his equally gorgeous face was pointed your direction.

No matter- you won't push. You're lucky he's letting you get off on his lap, you'll take what you can get.

"Easy," He grumbles, rocked by the sudden jerk of your hips. As you settle into a steady rhythm you realize you've already failed his one directive of not making a mess, but there's no way to stop or slow the steady stream of slick that's pouring from your weeping cunt. It's sobbing, slobbering, begging for a cock, but you drag it flush against Logan's abs and mat his happy trail down with your translucent arousal.

"One fuckin' job," He gripes, reaching down to swipe two fingers through the slick that's glistening on his stomach as you find better friction near the waistband of his jeans. The texture of the denim is rough, and you realize with giddy desperation that he's getting hard in his pants despite his insistence that he wasn't in the mood.

He sticks his fingers in his mouth for a taste, his cigar left behind in its ashtray on the side table. He doesn't relinquish the bottle, but he takes equal sips of that and of the mess you're making on his abs.

Finally, thanks to the sizeable bulge in Logan's jeans, you're able to hump your way to completion on his stomach. It's not hard, considering you'd been achingly horny before, but without something inside of you your release feels empty and wasted. You'd use your fingers if you could, but you can't move your hands or you'd faceplant on Logan's chest, and you don't want to invade his space any further in case he decides your privileges have been revoked.

"Poor thing." He murmurs when your hips slow and you're panting against his chest. You glance at his face but he's staring at your cunt, not at you, "She's so hungry."

It takes him one, two, three seconds to reach for his belt, "Well, c'mon. Up now, there y'go." As you shimmy up his abdomen, slicking his happy trail up with your release once more. As soon as he's able to free his cock he slides a hand under your ass, boosting you up so that you're finally able to sink down onto his red-tipped, leaking cock.

"Jesus, she's sucking me in," He grunts, his voice gruff and ragged, "How long were you waiting to ask me?"

"Too long." You whine, pussy already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now in utter bliss from finally being penetrated after all that teasing, "I- hnngh! My toys don't work anymore. They're- they're nothing like you, I can't use them. I can't ever finish."

Logan scoffs, still in a mood as sour as the liquor on his breath, but his hands find their place on your waist as he helps bounce you on his cock, "Shame. Those were supposed to keep you busy. Guess I'll have to do it then, hm?"

You nod vigorously against the crook of Logan's neck, your nose buried where his neck meets his shoulder, and where sweat accumulates sticky on his skin. You lick it up, and Logan hisses against the mouth of his bottle as he takes another swig.

"Fine." He grumbles, butting the bottle up to your head and forcing it against your lips, "Take this, take a nice big- there you go. That'll make you sleepy," He vows, and the head rush comes just like he'd warned. His hips begin shifting, circling slightly in gyrations that only add to the pleasure of bouncing on his dick, "And this'll knock you out, crazy."

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x reader

(artist: ppanae100)

You sighed as another picture popped up on your phone, sent during his so-called "study session" with friends. You’d sent him to study, and this is what he was up to. Mentally, you made a note to confiscate his phone the next time he claimed to go to a "group-study."

So, Narin Gul was indeed your husband. This young, clingy, bratty, bimbo of a man—your husband. You, a college professor. No, not his college professor. You just happened to grow up in the same neighborhood, and the moment you helped him with an essay—something he was initially too shy to ask about but did on his parents' insistence—he fell hopelessly in love. Deeply. He wanted to be yours and you to be his only.

He still couldn’t quite understand how he’d fallen for a Chemistry professor, of all people, since he hated anything related to studying. His parents had to practically beg him to pursue a degree, just for his own good after he’d all but given up on academics. In the end, he chose English, thinking it might be easier—only to now cry over novels, not because of the stories, but because he absolutely despises studying! He just wanted to be whisked away. To stay at home all day and keep himself and the house pretty.

And you, you were everything he ever dreamt of. Like his own knight, a Princess Charming. Sure, you were a bit older, and that only made it all more romantic in his mind. He, a cute and eager English Literature student in his first year, and you, a sophisticated, cold, dashing, and incredibly intelligent Chemistry professor--just the thought of it made his heart flutter. After that first interaction, he practically melted onto the floor when he returned to his room, unable to believe that you were the same (Y/N) who used to play on the streets with your friends. He, a kid at the time, would watch from the sidelines, sometimes joining in, and then you had disappeared for years to get your degree. And now you were back--thank God, you were back--and more dreamy than ever.

From that day forward, he started paying more attention to his English studies. Well, at least trying. He’d read poetry or skim through the synopsis of novels he hadn’t actually touched, hoping to impress you with a few lines memorized just for you. His bimboy brain, of course, failed to process half of it, but that didn’t stop him. He had to prove that he was more than just a pretty face, that he was your good, studious boy—even if "studying" for him meant reciting two lines of poetry and hoping they stuck.

Narin knew, deep down, that you would never accept him as your anything because of the age gap. But despite his airheaded tendencies, he had a brain--one he didn’t use often, but when he did, he was clever. So, in a move that could only come from a desperate, lovesick boy, he concocted a scenario where his honour was on THE LINE!. And, of course, it was all because of you! His genius plan? Spread the rumour that you had asked him out on a date.

That single rumor was enough to send his parents into an absolute frenzy. Both families got involved, concerned about preserving reputations and traditions. Before you knew it, you were being dragged into marriage talks, and suddenly, you had a pretty boy in your lap with plump lips and an endless supply of cheeky grins. You couldn’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. Tch.

🍭"Why do I have to study?!" Narin whined, flopping dramatically onto the couch like a toddler. "I want to be a househusband! I will be a househubby! I’m not going to college! Please, Coco!" His pleading eyes were wide and desperate as if hoping you’d magically let him off the hook.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the day’s frustration mounting. It had only been one day since the wedding--a wedding where he cried hysterically about leaving his parents’ house, despite orchestrating the entire thing himself. And now, this?

"You have to go because your parents paid for it! A degree is important. After that, you can sit in the house. Got it?"

"No, it’s not! There-" He froze, gulping as your stern gaze bore into him. His rebellious stance deflated with a huff, like a child who’d been caught sneaking cookies. "Fine..." he grumbled, crossing his arms but relenting nonetheless.

Sigh.

You were so frustrated with the way your life had turned upside down that, instead of taking time off after the wedding, you threw yourself straight back into work just to stay sane. Meanwhile, you had Narin take a few days off to stop his constant whining about everything. You needed the quiet, but what shocked you was coming home every day to a home-cooked meal that was, annoyingly, delicious. Turns out, he’s actually talented at something after all. Not to mention those adorable outfits he wears, like that Panda onesie. What an adorable little minx.

However, he’s perpetually pouty, glaring at you like a scorned child every time you leave for work. He always tries his best to make you late, his antics a cheeky mix of playful defiance and desperate need for your attention which you cave in sometimes. He hadn't stopped grumbling about not being taken on a honeymoon either, arms crossed and lips jutting out in a sulk. But he will wait, deep down, he knew you’d take him eventually. He just wouldn’t let you live in peace until you did.

His friends were apparently waiting for honeymoon pictures—how embarrassing would it be to tell them his wife was too much of a workaholic to go on one? So, of course, he told them you were saving up for something huge. Eventually, to quiet him and his friends, you took him on that honeymoon just to get it over with.

Narin always made sure to do his homework right beside you, his head often resting on the table, watching as you graded papers with that calm, focused look on your face. Did he forget to mention you looked so hot?! It was like he was in his OWN K-drama! He loved being in your presence--it was warm, comforting, and-

🍭"Narin? Narin! Stop dozing off. I want to see you writing."

He jolted upright. "Y-yes! Wait—why are you being so strict? I was just... taking a break." And there they were, those tears welling up in his eyes again. His go-to move. No, as a matter of fact he savoured your strictness. So, so much , like 'choke me already, ma'am'.

Sigh # 2

Despite his exaggerated bouts of emotion, Narin never forgot to remind everyone at college that he was a newlywed--with you as his wife, an established and respected professor. Oh, he made sure the world knew. That’s right. Go rot in jealousy, losers.

🍭"Your husband has, again...behaved very rudely in the class." Your friend, Payton who was a professor at his college called you from work. '"I mean, before that teacher went to the dean, I handled the situation.'

You glanced over at Narin, standing nearby with his arms folded, clearly shivering under your gaze. What the hell are you supposed to do with him?. You made him apologize to said teacher and now he was ranting on the way to the car.

"Not my fault! She wasn't letting me go to my hair appointment! And why weren't you picking up my phone?! Did you already find someone else?! More beautiful than ME?! ARE THEY YOUR STUDENT?!"

"You little-" You held back, controlling the urge to snap. Control, (Y/N), control. ''Get in the fucking car." You slammed the passenger door as he got in and once in, turned to him.

"You were expecting me to come and take you to a salon in the middle of my job?! And why the hell do you have an appointment in the middle of your classes in the first place?!" You knew perfectly well he made the appointment as an excuse to bunk.

"Well, forgive me, wife, for trying to look pretty for you," he muttered, looking away dramatically. Then, with a smirk, he added, "And by the way... have you got your friend spying on me here?" His cheeks flushed pink, and he giggled like a child. Possessive control freak, he thought to himself. God, that’s so blazing hot of you. Just when are you gonna collar me? That too a pretty diamond one? :(

Why is he smiling like that?

"Look, Narin, she is just doing her job—"

"Oh my God, staaahp," he interrupted with another giggle. "Just drive~. You don’t need to be so defensive about it. I know you love me so much." He pecked your cheek, likely leaving a glossy stain behind, then laughed, clearly enjoying his latest episode of theatrics.

Great, you thought. He’s at it again.

Sigh #3

Well, after that, you had to keep a close watch on him to ensure he didn’t book any more 'self-care for wifey' appointments during college days. You still wondered why he squealed and shied away whenever you demanded to check his phone. What bothered you the most was that, despite having a sharp tongue, he seemed quite naive and innocent when it came to understanding the consequences of his words and actions. This often led to clashes with his in-laws. Had his parents even bothered to teach him anything?

🍭"Good, you're ready. Let's go." You got up from the sofa as he finally emerged from the bathroom, dolled up. You were really hungry and just wanted to get to the family dinner.

"And here I was expecting you to shower me with romantic compliments... write a damn poem or something so we’d get delayed, and then YOUR family would ask why we're late so I could tell it to their faces that THEIR (Y/n) couldn't stop showering me with compliments and affection, making THEM jealous. THAT’S HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!"

"Um... you look pretty. Pretty as ever. And we’re late either way, so you still get to use that line. Come on now." You walked past him, not forgetting to--

"Hey! NO! You don’t get the 'smack my bum pass' after that lackluster compliment you threw at my face, professor." Liar, he definitely loved it.

He’s a little manipulator with the eyes that of a siren. He knows how to use #keepingyourpartnerunderyourspell tactics very well. If you get furious or don’t take his side after he acts like the spitfire he is in front of your family, then goodbye. He’s leaving with his suitcase, which is mostly empty because he knows you’ll come to bring him back home anyway, to go to his parents’. After enjoying at least half a day of tranquility , you have to bring him back before his parents call you and inform you about his hunger strike.

However, when you visit your in-laws, you’re treated like a queen, being their only daughter-in-law. Narin, although a headache sometimes, really takes care of your comfort, always standing over your head and feeding you various dishes. You just wish he would be this docile in front of your family. Perhaps one day. Your parents scold you for being so lenient with him, but what are you supposed to do? On one side, your husband won’t let you be in peace, and on the other, your family. You just use the excuse of him being young and immature every time. It hurts seeing him sad without you even realizing it.

Narin feels deeply wounded by the way your family sometimes favors you and disapproves of him, especially after how he has schemed his way into your life. Despite this, he believes their disapproval is unjust and is tormented by the idea that they want you to LEAVE HIM! Leave such a beautiful, ideal boy like him!. The fear of this happening haunts him, makes him furious, even giving him nightmares. He can't bear that. He will wilt. He won't ever let that happen!

He believes in love, just like in the fairy tales and Shakespeare’s sappy lines and knows that one day your heart will melt. He can spot the tenderness in your eyes and the way you care for him, correcting his dumb choices like saving him from sending the shared account details to an unknown number for a free couple spa day at a resort in Greece🥹🎀

🍭"Hey, Coco? Did you tell everyone that I passed my driving test?" Narin asked with a mischievous glint in his eye. It was Sunday, and he’d invited your family over for tea, or maybe he was just feeling playful and bored. He loved stirring things up a bit.

"Yes, on his first try too," you said, looking up from your laptop with a proud smile.

Narin’s cheeks turned a shade of pink at your beaming expression. "Why wouldn't I pass? You were my teacher, after all, haha. God," he turned to your mum, "Your daughter is such a scary teacher, but it was worth it. Haha!"

He got up to refill your tea and serve more snacks, catching the eye roll from your mum as he did.

HE. IS. LOVING. THIS. MARRIED. LIFE. >_<

(AN: wanna get Narin preggo- also a warm welcome to my new subs✨️)

[bunnis-monsters]

Cat hybrid reader going through her first heat after taking heat suppresent pills all her life with werewolf husband(NSFW obv). This sounds kinda cute in my head.... I can't explain it.... Like getting married and then finally deciding that you want to let yourself go through a natural process which you were suppressing all your life.

Happy 5k! If this isn't something you'll write, I am sorry, please do not block me, I can't tell if this is following the rules or not.

Your husband held your hand as you started the morning without taking your heat suppressant pill for the first time.

You wanted to have kittens with him so badly, and he wanted to fuck you full of pups, so the two of you decided that it was beast for you to temporarily stop taking them so you could mate properly.

“You think it’ll be okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

You frowned, leaning against him. “I’m not sure… it’ll take a few days for the suppressant to leave my system. I’ll find out then…”

And find out you did.

Your husband returned home after a long day of work, only for his cock to immediately strain against his pants when he picked up the smell of your heat. He could hear your desperate little mews from the bedroom, walking in to see you crying and begging for release.

You had never felt such an ache in your cunt, and had never really felt the urge to masturbate so you had no idea what to do. He watched you struggle to finger yourself and play with your clit, your pretty kitty tail rubbing against your fat, wet pussy.

“Poor baby, can’t even make herself cum…”

He fucked his fingers into you, making your back arch. “Mmph! P-please, need more!”

You panted, your body feeling like it was on fire. His fingers were a little help, but it was like throwing a bucket of water on a house fire.

You needed more.

“Shh, sweetheart. Gotta stretch you out, okay? Can you be my good girl and wait for me?”

He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, trying his best to stretch you out as quickly as possible.

You nearly lost it when you felt him kiss your inner thigh, his lips moving to your fat pussy. He licked your clit, sucking on it as his fingers kept fucking into you.

After a few moments you cried out, cumming on his fingers and writhing on the bed. Orgasming while in heat was like nothing you’d ever felt before!

Your entire body spasmed as he pulled out his fingers from your aching pussy with a wet squelch. It took him a second to compose himself, watching your pussy ooze. There was a mess under your hips already, and your scent alone was driving him insane!

He already towered over you, but now he seemed to loom over your body like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

He rolled you onto your fat tummy, lifting your hips so he could properly mount you. By now, he was going off of pure instinct, ready to breed his fertile little mate.

“Mew…”

You let out a pathetic little meow as he sunk into you. The two of you had sex before, but now it was an entirely different experience.

The pleasure was multiplied tenfold, and he was so much more intense than he had been previously. “Wanna make puppies with you! W-wanna-!”

You buried your face into the pillow as he pounded your kitty cunt. His grip on your tail made you cry out, arching your back so he could reach you better.

Your hips and legs were easily lifted off the bed as he began using your fat pussy to get off, his mind fat gone. You didn’t mind, the feeling of him knotting you and filling your belly with cum over and over again was the only thing helping to calm the heat in your body.

The next day, your mate fussed over you, feeling terrible that he went overboard and lost control.

“I’m sorry, little one… your heat, it just-“

You butted your head against him affectionately, purring as he began to pet you.

“I think it’s what I needed… thank you for being with me for my first heat.”

“Of course… I’m your husband and mate, it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

The two of you spent the morning cuddling in bed, soft purrs and loving mews filling the air.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr

[inkdrinkerworld]

Okay but imagine Soft!dom Remus where he just makes life simpler when you go out or are at home bat work you’re type a on top of ur shit but w Remus you can just be and not have to think 😫

No one would believe their eyes if they could see you right now.

No one would ever believe that you, with your quick wit, smart mount, sarcastic drawl and 'take no shit' attitude is currently whining at your husband.

“Remmy, I can't do it." You're out for dinner, at a pretty restaurant that required you both to dress up a little. You'd ordered steak and passed Remus your plate as soon as it had been set before you.

"I know, dove. Give me two seconds." He was making space on his side of the table to pull your plate in front of him.

"In thin strips, please." Remus rolls his eyes- he doesn't need to be reminded of any of your preferences.

Your friends and co-workers would be in disbelief at your behaviour right now and you find that you don't care if any of them would find out- Remus takes good care of you, always has and always will.

"Taste, baby. Let me know if you want more salt." he feeds you a piece and you smile.

"It's perfect, thanks Rem." he nods, passing the plate back to you and pulling his back in front of him.

Remus ordered pasta, knowing that you'd want some and he doesn't hesitate to load a bite on his fork for you. "Here," his other hand cups under the fork, ready to catch any fall off as he feeds you.

"That's good, baby." he smiles, already knowing you're going to want the last bite of his dinner and knowing that he'd love nothing more than to give it to you.

"What do they have for dessert tonight?" you ask as you eat, sipping your wine every couple of bites.

"I already told them cheesecake dovey," he reaches across the table to wipe a bit of wine from your lips. "They also had that chocolate cake you liked so I got two slices. I've got you all set baby."

Like you'd ever have to worry.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 & 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: oh god this man is doing things to me...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡ���ˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISFJ or ISTJ

Ravenclaw

Lawful Neutral to Neutral Good

Sagittarius Sun, Cancer Moon, Scorpio Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You're the rider of Silverwing, the glorious, graceful and maternal dragon who watches over you wherever you go.

・When you were young, it was very difficult for your mother because Silverwing would sweep you away and take you to her nest. Making you one of her own.

・You knew about the Hightowers, and how close Alicent & Rhaenyra were. You were very jealous, but weren't the kind of person to bump shoulders just to be included.

・So your best friend was a dragon. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

・Your connection with her is incredibly strong. Almost telepathic at times. She can feel what you feel - like two one soul in two bodies.

・And when you become of marriagable age - she did not like any of the suitors. So she was there, right by your side, huffing and puffing (putting your white cloaks on edge...)

・Just like Rhaenys the Conquorer, you flew further and further with your mount.

・You weren't the sister of Rhaenyra, but of Rhaenys. Your parents were Aemon Targaryen and Jocelyn Baratheon. And they had you when they were very, very old. Your birth was a miracle.

・And your sister, who was many years older, became a mother to you. As your two parents died.

・Your marriage was put forth by Viserys, well, Otto mainly. He knew his daughter would become queen and yet he was still full of ambition.

・Rhaenys saw straight through this. And your sister did everything she could to stop the marriage.

・But Viserys would not be persuaded...

・When you first met Gwayne, your initial opinion was that he was an ass. A pompus, arrogant, rude, ass.

・He had kissed your hand within the first two minutes and let his eyes linger on your own for far too long.

'I hate him already.' You thought and Silverwing snarled in agreement.

・But the dragon did not deter the Hightower man. He simply smirked and bowed his head.

・As time went by, your cemented walls were slowly knocked down one by one by Gwayne.

・But it wasn't until you offered to take him flying that you truly bonded.

・Clinging as tight as he could to you, Silverwing did every trick in the book to make him faint; straight diving and pulling up at the last second, twirling over herself over and over etc.)

・The whole time you were laughing, not just at his reaction but laughing with pure joy. Your fiance feeling what you feel.

・After that Gwayne looked at you with a newly found gratitue. You were true friends.

・But when Rhaenys started to speak to you about what marriage was really like - you didn't want to hear it.

"...my love, he may stray and sometimes you cannot stop it."

The words had hit you like a boulder to the heart. No, you could not endure such a betrayal.

"Sister. If he dares, then Silverwing will have the most royal feast she has ever had."

・But you need not ever worry about Gwayne's attention turning to another. You are all he needs. All he wants.

・He shows it to you through the way he speaks; the charming, soft voice that makes your knees tremble. The ever so gentle brush of his hand against yours.

・It drives you insane.

・And you never, not once in a nillion years, thought you would say this.

・"Gwayne, please. Let's just marry. Now. It needs to be now or I'll explode."

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Forced Proximity

"I'd do anything for you." (Gwayne) x "As you should." (You)

Survives because of pure luck (You) x Is the pure luck (Gwayne)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Enemies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Let It Happen by The Midnite String Quartet

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Your first kiss was ... passionate. The hesitation of your lips before one another caused such heat you could not comprehend.

・You consummated your wedding night. Over and over and over again. Until Gwayne said, "my heart I cannot handle another round. I do not think I can move."

"Oh husband," you said while rolling onto your side. "You are going to have to get used to this. There's fire in my blood after all..."

・His eyebrows rose and his handsome face was covered in amusement.

"Well, wife. I guess I'll have to train harder," and with that he gripped your waist and flung on top of you.

・It is well known that the two of you cannot keep your hands off each other. You always do it when no one is around - but somehow someone always sees.

・But it's very difficult when he whispers in your ear all the things he thinks about. The things he wants you to do to him. Where he wants you to touch him.

・Is this not what married life is about? Being so incredibly obsessed with the other that your whole body hurts whenever they aren't near?

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

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[flowersforjude]

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Cousin!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You could not leave him. Not when your very breath was the only thing that kept him tethered to this world. 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,433

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Arguing, Angry Jace, Desperate Jace, One curse word, Kind of hurt/comfort. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This was requested by @intheheartoftheking. I had a million different ideas for this, but the inspiration wasn’t there for any of them. So, I hope this is to your liking! Also, Varaxs is the name I gave the reader’s dragon! 

masterlist

Sea salt kisses your cheeks as the gentle roll of the tide rushes below you. The familiar scent of your dragon fluttered in the breeze as the Dragon Keepers brought your ivory mount out to you. Varaxs growled deeply, as if mimicking the waves that crashed against the inky cliffs of Dragonstone.

Chills danced up your spine as the cold seeped into your bones beneath your riding clothes. The weather wasn’t what had you so chilled, though.

Nervousness burns through your mind. Has your eyes darting from the dragon pit to the palace looming behind you. Every howl of the wind and every tumbling pebble falling from the rocks, kept you on high alert of discovery. There were more than enough troubles to keep your mind occupied, but should anyone catch you here before you could depart, your plan would be all for nothing. 

The Greens had sent an assassin to take Rhaenyra’s life in the dead of night. Ser Arryk was unsuccessful thanks to his brother’s valiant efforts, which cost him his life. But even if the Queen was unharmed, the usurper must still pay for the cowardly attempt on her life. 

Rhaenyra still hoped for peace, though, and such wishes had her stalling her hand. You, as her stepdaughter and loyal subject, could no longer rationalize doing nothing. 

And so, you were going to King’s Landing.  

You dare not give thought to what could befall you once you’re there. But if death or something worse awaited you, then it would have been worth it fighting for your queen. 

The wind seemed to pick up with his arrival. You didn’t notice until a loud cry of your name sounded over the currents. You spin around and see your betrothed, Jacaerys, dashing towards you. Trepidation and unease flowed through you as you caught sight of his vexed expression. You hadn’t told anyone of your plan, and you thought you had snuck away with no one noticing your absence. But of course, it was Jace who figured it out. 

He’s still in his princely attire, the Targaryen colors displayed proudly. The deep hues of black and red had always complimented him in the most alluring way. His boots kick up clouds of dust and sand as he comes to a stop in front of you. His lips pressed into a hard line, and his jaw clenched in irritation. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword like he always did, but the knuckles were white with the forceful hold he had on it. 

“Jacaerys.” You greet, meeting those serious, dark eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you could remember. 

“What are you doing?” He asks simply, but the sharpness of his voice made it clear this was no easy matter. His eyes burned into yours as he stood just inches from you. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You questioned in return. Deciding to let him reveal what he knew before you told him the whole of your plan. 

He scoffs and swallows thickly. “I am not certain, but I am sure that it is something reckless and not something that my mother approved of.” 

Shifting your weight in the sand, you thought about how best to proceed. “I was anticipating no one finding out until I was already gone.”

“Did you think I would not notice your absence?” He asks incredulously, his brows rising in disbelief. 

You shrugged. “I hoped it would take you a little longer.” A leaden sigh leaves your lips while the restless waters below you rage on. The light reflecting off the water shines like a beacon around Jace, and you have to battle against the longing ache that spreads through your chest. 

“Someone needs to scout King’s Landing. Gather what information we can.” You explain praying to the seven that he’ll understand. 

His eyes widened as exasperation ignited in them. “Have you lost your mind?” He exclaims, shaking his head of dark curls. 

“Jace-” 

“No,” he insists. “You’re not going. You’re not going to fucking King’s Landing, where you very likely will be spotted.” His jaw is tight, and his eyes are just as troublesome as the waters crashing against the rocky shores of the island. 

“Someone has to do something!” You argue back, your raised voice causing Varaxs, waiting in the landing pit, to hiss with displeasure at your growing distress. 

“And if you are captured? Slain? What then?” He sneered, a sudden thickness lingering in his words. 

You lose yourself for a moment. Imagining all the horrors that could come upon you should anyone discover you even somewhat close to the capitol. Aemond held resentment towards you and your sisters for what occurred the night Luke took his eye. And Aegon was a mindless drunk, but no less cruel than his brother. But thinking of all their treachery just made you all the more determined to do everything in your power to see Rhaenyra on the throne. And Jace, good-hearted, compassionate Jace, as the heir.

“I have to do this, Jace. And if I meet my end, then it would be worth it to see Rhaenrya and you reclaim your birthright.”

Desperation colors his features, his sharp expression melting to one of concern and tenderness . Something that stokes the fires of your affection for him. 

“I forbid you.” He finally declares after a long moment of silence. 

“Forbid me?” Your own frustration at last rises to match his. “You are not my king yet. You’re not even my husband yet. So unless you intend to tie me up, I will be leaving now.” 

You turn on your heel to approach your mount. Fully planning on flying off to King’s Landing before his voice breaks. 

“You cannot leave me!” 

You halt in your place, your throat growing tight upon hearing the sheer panic coming from him. Your hands twitch at your sides as the wind dies down enough to allow you to hear the ragged breaths sounding from your betrothed. Hesitantly, not wanting to be met with his distraught expression, you turned back to face him. 

Raw desperation swam in his eyes. His lips, that had welcomed yours in so many devoting kisses, parted with pleading breaths. He closes the short distance between you; his hand captures yours before falling to rest against his heart. Heat flashes through you where your skin touches his. 

When he speaks, his words come out breathlessly. “It is no secret between us my devotion to you.” The strong fingers of his free hand, calloused from all his hours of training, fluttered over your cheek with a touch as light as goose down. “But even before our betrothal, you were my guiding light. In the wake of all the chaos, there was you.” His normally collected voice cracks. He clings to his hold on you as if terrified of you vanishing from his sight forever. “My entire heart craves only a fraction of yours. Even if only a piece of you loved me, that would be plenty, because that would mean at least a part of you was genuinely mine.”

“Jacaerys.” 

His gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I cannot live in a world where you do not exist,” he professed. The air had been stolen from your lungs upon hearing his words. You were no fool to Jace’s affection; you returned it tenfold. But never had he confessed such adoration to you. 

“I cannot just do nothing.” You whispered, knowing he could hear you. 

He was nodding along with your words. “We will destroy them,” he vowed. “But we will do it together. You cannot not be so careless with your life, Issa jorrāelagon.” 

You do not wish to be labeled as rash or reckless, but the Greens must face retribution. For all the agony they’ve caused. You wish only to help your family win back the heritage that was stolen from them. One day, sit by Jace’s side as he rules with all the kindness and strength you know him to possess.

But he was right. 

You look down at his hand, holding yours to his heart. It beat as fiercely as dragon wings in the sky. Each pulse hammered in each nail of faith you had in him. “Together?” You coaxed meeting his eyes again and seeing determination mingling with his sheer devotion. 

“You and I will take back my mother’s throne.” He pledged, pressing a reverent kiss to your brow. “And one day I will take you as my queen, and we will rule together just as we are meant to.”

This was shorter than I wanted it to be, but I'm just glad I was finally able to finish it!

Issa jorrāelagon; My love

[thewritetofreespeech]

Cooler Heads Will Prevail

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: it's too hot to do anything in the States. Except apparently write Aemond x Reader smut about how it's too hot.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex outdoors, aemond speaking High Valyrian cause it's sexy, Vhagar being sassy in the background. 

----------------------------------⚔️-----------------------------------------

“Gods how can you stand to wear that?”

You felt ten times hotter just looking at your husband, dressed in his traditional black & leathers, as he sat next to you while you baked in this heat. Even with all the windows and curtains open, dressed in the thinnest dress that modesty could cling to, and servants fanning you both like Dornish aristocracy, you still felt like you were melting.

“It is all a matter of perspective, my dear wife.” Aemond replied. Not looking up from his book. “And will power.”

You groan and drop your own book, spreading out as far as your limbs would go on the chaise. You despised these hot summers. Everything was hot. Everything you touched, including yourself, was sticky. You felt like every breath was drawing in more hot air, which in turn made you hotter, and considerably cranky. It was too hot to do anything.

Aemond glanced up at you with his good eye, then closed his books. The servants scatter when the prince stood. Taking away what little precious, if fruitless, relief you had. “Are you really that miserable?” He asked, leaning over you with one arm pressed against the back of the chaise.

“Just look at me.”

“I am.” His mouth coiled into a smirk as he leaned further down to kiss you.

But you turn your head away with an unsatisfied huff. “It’s too hot.” Though you loved Aemond unconditionally, apparently it had its limits. He’d have to wait until the sun went down, at the very least, before you would consider touching him.

The prince huffed. “Fine. Get up.”

You didn’t have time to ask Aemond why before he was grabbing your hand and hoisting you to your feet. Dragging you along behind him as you tried to keep up with his impressive gait thanks to those long legs.

Your protests & questions stopped halfway through your journey, and Aemond finally let your hand go once the two of you reached the Dragonpit. Vhagar’s indominable frame taking up most of the space a lotted to her as she coolly acknowledged her rider then settled back down. “What are we doing here?”

“Leaving the city.” Aemond was already mounting Vhagar. Settled into her saddle before he reached out to you with his hand.

You often dreamed of being a dragon rider. To be up in the skies. To command giants. But you didn’t have the blood for it. Instead, you just admired them from afar. “I thought you said Vhagar didn’t like secondary riders.”

“Vhagar does not like any rider but me.” He clarified. “But she will not harm you. Trust me.”

You did trust Aemond. Still, you glance over to Vhagar, looking into her giant eye for permission, who looked back at you for a long moment before she blinked with her inner lid and turned her gaze from you. You took that as a yes and grabbed Aemond’s hand.

He hoisted you up into the saddle with ease. Seating you in front of him. His legs on either side of you as he fastened you both to the harness before taking the reins. “sōvēs Vhagar.”

The dragon rose from her seat. Seeming annoyed about it, but you couldn’t be sure. She took three long strides before her wings were aloft and you were up in the air. You close your eyes tight. Gripping Aemon’s thighs on either side as you felt your stomach try to drop all the way back to the ground. “Open your eyes.” Aemond’s voice brushed against your ear, louder than the rushing air around you. You do as he says. With one at first, then opening both to see the beautiful bright sky around you and white, fluffy clouds. It was breath taking.

You aren’t brave enough to look down, but after a while Aemond shouted, “tegot Vhagar,” and the dragon circled around a patch of Earth before gracefully hurling itself towards it.

When you landed Aemond undid your bindings and jumped down. He held his arms out towards you, waiting for you to jump, and easily caught you when you fell into his open arms. “Where are we Aemond?”

The prince shrugged, “somewhere North.” That was all he said before he stalked off into the woods past the clearing.

You look around and admire the beauty of the small forest, before you follow after your husband. Vhagar seemed fine on her own to resume her nap while you both went on your walk to wherever Aemond was going. “Aemond, what are we doing here?”

“You said you were hot.” He told you. In a tone that implied ‘we just talked about this’ as he cut through the path.

“Yes. But why are we here?” It was significantly cooler, but still summer. The balminess of the city had been replaced with the natural humidity of the trees. One evil for a lesser one.

Aemond didn’t answer this time and instead pushed past the last of the greenery to reveal a second clearing. Sun dappled, with trees and flowers circling a natural freshwater pond, in a perfect idyllic scene. “Gods…It’s beautiful.”

“We did not come all this way just to look at it.”

You turn to Aemond to see him already unbuttoning his jerkin. “You cannot be serious.” Apparently, he was, as he was already tossing his jerkin aside and pulling off his under tunic. “Aemond?? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Exactly. No one will find us.” His belt, boots, and pants quickly made it into the pile. His small clothes next. Then finally his eye patch. “Are you coming or not?” You stare at Aemond, a little slack jawed, as he stood there completely naked. As if you were the crazy one for not joining him.

Fingers carefully come up to your lacings. Fumbling with the strings as your embarrassment makes the digits unable to cooperate properly. Aemond was right, no one would see you. But this was still the first time you had been naked ‘in public’. Ladies did not go around the world in the nude. Although, apparently, a Targaryen’s woman did.

Aemond grinned as he watched you let loose your dress, then walked backwards a few paces before he turned and walked over to one of the rocks. Standing on it, like some Valyrian statue, before he jumped in. You were not nearly as brave, and shyly stepped into the water from its calm shore with your hands protecting your modesty.

The water was like ice on your overheated skin, but it felt so good! You let out a sigh and relax. Sinking neck deep into the water as you pulled your knees to your chest to float. “Feeling better?” You turn to look at Aemond as he swam up to you. His long hair floating behind him like a silver net. Looking more triton than dragon at the moment. You offer him a soft smile and nod.

The prince smiled back. Then he floated to his center before he stood, able to reach the bottom and have the water just barely brush past his navel. “Can I kiss you now?”

You looked up at Aemond, who was looking back down at you, waiting for an answer. Your smile broadens and you release your knees to stand on your own feet as well. The water just barely kissing your breasts in comparison. “Yes Aemond, you can kiss me.”

He looked so pleased. As if all this effort was worth it as he took your chin in his fingers to tilt your lips to his. You moan at the first contact of his tongue against yours. Hells…how long had it been since you kissed him properly.

You had not been joking when you said it was too hot to do anything. That included laying with your husband. Though you shared the same bed, the most you had done for the past weeks was brief kisses & touches before shunting off to your separate corners of the mattress. Desperate not to add anymore heat to your person.

Now that you were cooled off, a renewed heat was swelling up inside you. “Aemond…”

The man in question pulled back just a hair’s breadth to look at you. The hand once tilting up your chin now brushing water droplets from your cheek. “I have missed you, issa jorrāelagon.”

“I know.” And you felt guilty for that. “I’ve missed you too.” Together seperately had been the way things had been with this heat. But now you were somewhere cool, calm, and secluded with your husband.

You latch on to Aemond like a drowning man. His body your life raft. His kiss your air. He pulled you in with equal fervor and you felt his longing press against your belly. Hot and hard, despite the cold water. “Aemond…” You gasp again. Intentionally brushing against him to feel more of his manhood and eager to have not against your belly but inside it. “Please…”

The prince growled and kissed you again. His teeth nipping possessively at your lips this time, before he pulled you into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Carrying you out of the water with ease and laying you on the soft grass that would be your marriage bed for the afternoon.

Aemond continued to kiss you. Letting you go for a moment before peppering your lips, face, and neck with more kisses. As if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with you. “You should be like this at all times.”

“Underneath you?” You respond cheekily.

“Naked.” He corrected. Your head tipping back as his arm slipped betwixt you and his fingers began toying with your sex. “You wouldn’t be so hot. And we would no longer have to deal with those ridiculous laces.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate such a ‘casual’ manner of dress at court.” You gasp sharply as two of Aemond’s fingers suddenly slipped inside you. Clearly a diversion in the conversation as he doesn’t want to talk about his mother right now.

“Hmmm…it is probably for the best. I’d gouge out the eye of any man who would look at you besides me. Then I would no longer be unique.”

“Certainly less fashionable.” Another sharp gasp escapes you as Aemond’s fingers curled up inside you against that spot that made you see stars. Silently telling you that if you didn’t stop with the cheek you were going to get it. ‘Good’ you thought.

His fingers continued to work you open as his mouth swallowed your cries. “Aemond!” You shouted when his thumb brushed against your pearl. Pushing at his shoulders while your legs shook at the intense feeling, but he wouldn’t stop. He let you go long enough to let your climax cry come out clearly. Loud and pure. Birds fluttering off in the distance that were startled by the sound.

“You’re so beautiful when you quake for me.”

“Only you.”

Your hand came up to stroke his face. Hard lines. Soft expression. Your fingertip brushes against just the end of his scar before trailing down to flick his bottom lip. Red and swollen from your kissing. Vibrant against his cool, alabaster skin. Perfect.

“Make me quake for you again my love.” Your legs splayed wide for him. Making space for him and his cock in your drooling cunt.

Aemond doesn’t have to be told anything twice and he descended on you. Lining up his cock, pushing it inside you with coiled control just waiting to snap, waiting there until you were ready. You let him know you were ready by jutting your hips a bit. Your prince looking at your face for a moment to make sure before that coiled control snapped clean.

The two of you rut in the forest like animals. Grunting and moaning and the wet sound of slapping skin. Aemond spread your legs wider for him. Letting him thrust harder and deeper into you. Your head fell back against the damp grass. The sweet smell mixed with your sweat making you dizzy while the sharp climb towards a second climax made you lightheaded.

You will your eyes open to look at Aemond. His eye fixed only on you. Almost completely black like the stories portrayed him. Black enough that it looked as though it had bled into his sapphire. But this was not the eyes of a monster, but a beast. Your beast. Your one and only, as this look as just for you.

“A-Aemond!” You shout again. Fingers clenched in his wet tresses. Whole body shaking around him this time. Aemond’s teeth clenched to the point they look like they might break before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His own hips stuttered as his warmth filled you up.

The two of you laid there for a moment. Catching your breath. Sated in one another until Aemond likely feels he’s too heavy for you and rolls off you to the side. “We should head back.”

You turn your head to look at him. Wounded. Did it have to be right now? “The sun will be setting soon. It will not be as hot upon our return.”

You look back up at the sky and indeed see the shadows had gotten longer since your arrival. “Must we?”

Aemond chuckled at your plea. Rolling back over to your side to coil his body around you like a serpent. Head on your shoulder. You know he had missed this almost as much as the other. “Not right now.” He agreed. “But soon. We can come back whenever you’d like though.”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed again.

“Whenever you’d like.”

The two of you bask in the moment and beautiful scenery for a little while longer. Enjoying the cool and the quite before you had to return to the hot and the mayhem. You dress in silence. Then Aemond walked you both back down the path towards his dragon. Vhagar not seeming to notice one way or the other that you’ve been gone.

The heat hits you instantly once you break the perimeter of the city. Cooler than before but still sweltering. “I’m going to take a cool bath before bed.” You tell your prince as he gave his dragon a few goodbye pet before he left her for the day. “Care to join me?”

Only one thing could pull Aemond’s attention away from his dragon, and he turned to look over his shoulder at you with a smug grin. “Missing me already, issa jorrāelagon.”

“Oh yes.” You playfully agree as you walk backwards when Aemond came close. “I don’t know. Something about dragon riding puts me in the mood for….‘dragon riding’.”

The true rider grinned and closed the gap between you with quick ease. “Why do you think I seem never to want to keep my hands off you?” He pulled you in for a new kiss. Passionate, yes, but not nearly as fierce as before. You were back in the walls. Back in your cages. You had to be restrained lest other people talked. Because gods forbid a man & a wife actually fancied each other. He let you go and it was your turn to lead Aemond by the hand.

The weather was hot. But summer would eventually break. By the time winter came you intended to know all sorts of new ways to keep warm.

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x reader helping her move into their shared flat! maybe a little angst cuz she doesn’t wanna impose but also fluffy

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Angel, we’ve got it,” James says again, warding you off with a playfully stern look when you get too close to your own dresser. Sirius, clutching the other end for dear life, looks less confident. “Go start putting things the way you like them, we’ll handle the rest of the big stuff.” 

You give Sirius a guilty look as you do what you’re told, going into the kitchen where Remus is opening your taped-up boxes with a butter knife. 

“Best to stay out of their way,” he advises you. “Jamie will fully let go of that dresser before he lets you near it, and we’ve got a busy enough day ahead of us without taking Sirius to A&E.” 

You grin. “Too true.”

Remus makes a funny cooing sound as he pulls your heart-shaped measuring cups out of a box. “Oh, these are precious.” His bottom lip curls softly. “Is it odd that this feels sort of like opening gifts? Do you have a zester? I’ve been pining after a zester for months.” 

“I do,” you say, somewhat giddy at the prospect of having your things amongst theirs. “It’s in the other box, though.” 

“Fuck, it’s like Christmas.” Remus tears into that box, leaving you to the first. 

It helps that you already have a sense of where things go in the boys’ flat, having stayed here many nights over several months before they’d asked you to move in. You grab the next thing out of your box and reach for the cabinet behind Remus, minding his head as you open it, and look for an empty space on the top shelf. 

“Oh.” The word drops limply from your lips.

“Hm?” 

“You already have a blender.” 

“Yeah, Jamie’d never get by without one,” says Remus with a fond eye roll. “He all but lives on those protein smoothies.” 

“Right. Yeah, I forgot.” 

“You can put yours in there next to it, love.” He looks at you over his shoulder, a slight bemusement in his expression at your dispirited tone. “He leaves that thing dirty in the sink all the time, it’ll be nice to have a backup.” 

“Okay.” You slot yours in beside it, but your eyes fall to the neat stacks of plates and bowls on the shelf below them. Somewhere in the bottom of one of these boxes, you have your own plates and bowls, mismatched and collected from different stores over time. These ones are uniform, a matched set. “Do you think my dishes will go okay in here?” 

“What do you mean?” Remus turns around, following your gaze to the cabinet. “We’ve got plenty of room.” 

“I know, but…” But with your dishes added onto theirs, they’ll be stacked nearly to the top of the shelf. More than anyone needs. “You all picked yours out together, and mine don’t match. I don’t want to add things you don’t like.” 

“You won’t be.” Seeming to sense you need it, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, standing with your back to his front. “Darling, we picked out these dishes because when we moved in here, all three of us had only been using paper plates. It wasn’t a big decision, we just needed to feel like adults.” You can hear his smile close to your ear. “Don’t worry about matching, alright?” 

“Alright,” you say, sinking into his hold, but your mind is already cataloging every way you could be intruding. 

Your glasses won’t go with theirs either, and neither will your pots and pans. The cabinets will be full to bursting. By the window, their little kitchen table has three chairs. The couch in the living room is only big enough to fit three, the armchair they’d bought to accommodate you when you started coming over regularly sitting off to the side. Separate. 

“Hey,” says James, popping into the kitchen. You’re partway through unloading your kitchen things, your guilt mounting with every overstocked shelf. “Do you want to come tell us where you’d like your dresser? We’re having some trouble, it’s a bit of a tight fit.” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly, following him down the hall. Remus, the unofficial master of logistics, comes behind you. 

In the bedroom, Sirius is trying to jam your dresser in between a nightstand and the wall, shoving it with his shoulder and threatening to take off the paint in the process. 

“Stop!” you and Remus say in unison, him rushing forward to grab Sirius while you hang back, open-mouthed. 

“You’re scuffing the wall,” Remus tells Sirius, not unkindly. “Don’t try to make it fit if it doesn’t, love.” 

The words ring around in your head, an omen. 

“I don’t need it,” you say. All three boys turn to look at you, various degrees of befuddled. “It doesn’t fit, it’s fine. I can get rid of it.” 

“It’ll fit,” says Sirius. “We’ve hardly tried yet.” 

“Angel, you love that dresser.” James looks like a confused puppy, clearly having caught onto the fact that something’s wrong but unsure what it is.

You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. You do love it, truthfully. It’s been with you since you moved into your first place, collecting tiny scratches and absorbing the coalescent scent of the candles you keep in the top drawer. It’s been the hallmark of every home that’s ever been your own, but this place isn’t just yours. Your boyfriends are already doing a lot by sharing their space with you, and you don’t want to be more trouble than you’re worth. 

“It doesn’t fit,” you say simply. “It’s okay.” 

“We can put it right there,” Remus says. The three of you turn, and there is a wall by the door, entirely blank. You’d completely forgotten about it. 

“Perfect. Genius, Rem.” James beams at Remus, his expression gentling when he looks back at you. “Okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You smile weakly. Sirius makes a tsking sound, regarding you through narrowed eyes. 

“You’re being weird. Spill.” 

You shrug again, arms wrapping around your middle of their own volition. “I just didn’t think about how much stuff I have until now,” you admit. “You guys already have everything perfect in here, I don’t just want to…cram my stuff in when it’s already the way you like it. I don’t know, it…” You study the floorboards, unable to look at any of them. “It feels like I’m butting in a bit.” 

For a thick, dreadful moment, the boys are silent. 

“We want you to have your things here,” Remus says softly,  “because we want you here, dove.” 

“Alright, let’s not act as though that was ever in question.” Sirius shoots you a smile, dimming a bit when you look at him sheepishly. “Sweetheart, obviously we want you here. Why would we have asked you to move in if we didn’t?”

You nibble the inside of your cheek. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your minds. You guys work together so well already.” 

“We work together with you even better.” James comes up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug like he’s unable to help himself. He sets his lips on your shoulder, words buzzing against your skin. “It wouldn’t feel right if you were here and none of your stuff was. There’s plenty of room, but if in some places there’s not then we’ll make room. We want you here, okay?” 

You nod, trying to make yourself believe it. 

“Let’s have a break,” Remus suggests. “There’s lemonade in the fridge.” 

“Yes please.” Sirius is quickly onboard. “I can feel the soreness coming on already; my muscles have never been so terribly abused. I’m going to need a massage tonight, definitely.” 

“I’ll do it,” you offer. James keeps you tucked under his arm as you all start back down the hall. “Seems like the least I can do.” 

“In that case, I think my thighs are taking the brunt of it. Better pay the most attention to those, sweetness.” 

“These are privileges which you shall have from this night onward,” says James, mashing a kiss into your hair. “Welcome home, angel.” 

[distantdarlings]

OUT OF IT // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus

(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)

- - -

The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.

You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.

After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.

You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.

A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.

Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.

You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.

A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.

“How are you, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.

“It was good. What about you?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.

You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.

“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.

You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.

“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.

“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.

It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.

“Hello, friends!”

The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.

“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.

“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.

Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.

You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.

***

That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.

Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.

You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.

***

The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.

And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.

You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.

“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.

“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.

Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.

“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.

His touch against you was almost too much to bear.

You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.

These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.

You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.

You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.

Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.

Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.

Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.

You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.

You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.

A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.

Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.

Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.

“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”

“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.

“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”

“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”

His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.

He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.

“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”

His eyes softened a bit.

“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.

His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.

“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.

Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.

“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.

What a stupid thing to ask.

“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.

“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”

Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.

He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.

His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.

Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.

“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.

At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.

His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.

After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.

“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.

With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.

With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.

His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.

His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.

With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.

A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.

His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.

As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.

“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.

“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.

The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.

He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.

His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.

Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.

His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.

He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.

“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.

The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.

Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.

With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.

He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.

Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.

If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.

He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.

He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.

Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.

There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.

When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.

The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.

Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.

When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.

He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.

One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.

It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.

The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.

With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.

And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.

Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.

As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.

He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.

“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”

He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.

He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.

“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.

“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.

“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.

“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.

“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.

“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.

“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”

“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”

He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.

One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

- - -

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