#once again.......al fits so he sits
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satowooo · 5 months ago
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A DAY IN THE LIFE... WITH A CAT
Wherein Sukuna takes care of your cat for a day, despite his indifferences with it.
warning: animal cruelty
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Your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, is obviously not very fond of cats. Or to any living and breathing creature at all. But most especially your cat.
Sukuna hates it. Despise it even. He wishes it to be gone with just one flick of his finger just so the silly furball wouldn't take his time away from you. He hopes it'll get tired of you and run away someday because why are you always up on its face?
But then, that would make you sad. So he won't actually do anything to harm it, as much as he can.
To Sukuna, your cat is the most unearthly being that has ever walked on earth. Always tailing you around like a constant shadow, a menacing shadow. He dislikes it so much that it gets more of your attention than his.
“So cute!”
Sukuna watches the way your eyes glint in delight, squealing and feet kicking in the air while you're turned to your stomach right by the floor, playing with the little kitten you adopted. You had the most beautiful and widest grin spread on your face, and all because of an animal.
You can't seriously be so happy over that?
It has been a month since that kitten entered your life, and you hadn't been the same since. Well, you are the same, it's just Sukuna being exaggerated.
Why wouldn't he? You barely even look at him anymore because you're too focused on doting and feeding that animal, to the point that he's already making it a silent competition between him and the kitten about who wins your affections. And the cat wins every time. Every fucking time.
You're so head over heels about the white-furred kitten and he will never understand why. It's just another responsibility for you, another creature that will just distract you from your daily living, the daily living in question being the time that you're supposed to be doing with him instead.
“Look, Kuna!” You cheered, holding the cat by its arms to show the kitten to him, the said animal wearing small little glasses that would fit its little face.
Sukuna could only sneer, a frown obviously etched in his lip. “He looks pathetic. Get him out.”
“That's mean. Don't listen to him.” You turned the cat to face you and covered its ears, as if it'll understand what Sukuna says. The cat in return hisses at Sukuna, which made him scoff in disbelief.
Why are you even treating the kitten like a real baby? It looks so ugly!
But despite his inner thoughts, he actually finds himself caring for the cat, begrudgingly.
It's a furry dirty cat. He would only bring chaos all around your shared apartment. It probably doesn't even know how to clean itself. Sukuna would always think.
But he never really had a choice whenever you're gone at home, and he's left tending to the cat’s crazy needs.
“Will you fucking stay still?” Sukuna holds the cat by its scruff, not too tight though, just enough to hold him up to meet his gaze. The white kitten was all wet after Sukuna just gave him a bath. It meowed at him helplessly, making him smirk to finally see it in distress. “You're a handful, kitten. Why does she like you so much?”
This must've been the longest day for him yet, with you leaving Sukuna with the task to shower the kitten in your place because you'll be out the whole day. Who's he to disobey you anyway?
He wrapped the kitten in a towel, then took him by the counter. He let it sit there for a moment while it was licking its paws, while he rummaged through the cabinets to look for the hair dryer that you always used for the cat. Once he had it in hand, he faced the kitten again, his eyes glaring at the small creature who's just looking at him curiously.
This? This is the cat that you fawn over? He looks even ugly when he's drenched.
He could only shake his head at the thought, before plugging in the hair dryer so he could do his work. The cat tried to run away when he pulled him close, the hair dryer making a loud blowing sound as he fanned it all over the cat's body. A smile would tug on Sukuna's lips, finding the cat's helpless state funny whenever it meows in discomfort at his presence.
Well, let's just say it wasn't a very pleasant experience for the poor animal. As much as it is for Sukuna.
“Yeah, you look horrible. I know.” He chuckled darkly, gazing at the now dried-and-furry-again cat, all thanks to him.
He carried the cat and put it down the floor, letting it run away. He sighs, brushing a tired hand on his nape before he goes over to slump on the couch, resting his eyes for a moment. He could hear the thumps of the kitten running around, stumbling over who knows what, but he couldn't care less. Right now, Sukuna needs to have a moment. It was surely a new experience for him, and something that he will never do again.
It didn't take long for the kitten to go back to him though. It easily jumped on the couch, climbing straight to his lap. He groaned, feeling the cat tapping its little paws on his skin, opening his eyes to see it looking at him, expecting, or perhaps, asking for something?
“What do you want now?”
The kitten meowed, before jumping off his lap and heading straight to a little cabinet by the wall, where his cat food was hidden.
Oh, it's smart. He'll give him that.
“You're hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at it. “Go starve yourself.”
Which wouldn't happen really, because the kitten started meowing furiously at him, which jolted all his senses awake. He cursed underneath his breath, letting out a grunt, standing up so he could give whatever the thing that the creature needed.
It was a very long and tiring day for him indeed. But at the end of the day, he's got the cat settled right above his chest, and he's petting its head softly as it lets out a purr. The cat’s tail would brush across his wrist, a sign that the cat must've been pleased with the gesture.
“I'll let you live longer.” He frowned, a low huff escaping from his lips as the cat only looked at him. “Just remember your place in this house.” Flicking the cat’s forehead softly as a finality, before he pushes it off and lets it fall on the floor, the cat swiftly landing on its feet.
After all, his pleasure is not his top priority, but yours. So, if keeping you happy would mean having this little cat between the two of you, then he might just let it for a while. For a while. Maybe. Depends if the cat crosses a line.
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runawrites-blog · 3 months ago
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Knee Deep In The Passenger Seat (Deadpool x Reader)
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Summary: You and Wade are trying very hard to keep your relationship casual, to stay friends while sleeping with one another, but things slowly start to drift away from being casual. (Female Reader) Word Count: 4,924 Warnings: SMUT (Minors Do Not Interact). Explicit Sexual Content. Oral. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Light Fighting. Mentions of Stalking (NOT between Wade and the Reader). No Y/N. No Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers. A/N: I'm aware that this is a wlw song but I thought it fit so well, so please bear with me here. Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58203475 NO SPOILERS.
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Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out Is it casual now?
It was supposed to be casual. It had always been supposed to be casual. But after months of casual dates you two had gone on under the guise of friendly get-togethers, after countless sexual encounters that had slowly merged from chasing release to intimate explorations of each others’ bodies, after going from seeing each other once every other week to being at one another’s places every other day, it didn’t feel as casual anymore.
You had noticed this before because you’d always been observant, and had seen you two progress away from being casual one encounter at the time. But it had taken you until now to realise that your feelings for Wade had changed, too. As he peered up at you through half-lidded eyes, face buried between your legs, you realised you may have fallen for him. When he saw your expression he pulled back, lower face covered in your juices and panting heavily.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You quickly shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ve just been lost in thought, don’t worry.”
“I’m putting my whole Deadpoolussy into eating you out and you’re lost in thought?” He asked in a faked offended tone. “I can’t believe it!”
You chuckled at his antics and reached out to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry, alright? Keep going, you’re doing such a good job. I’ll pay attention to you now.”
“I fucking hope so!”
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?
No more than two weeks after you had realised your true feelings for Wade his roommate had invited you over for dinner. According to Wade, Al had encountered you briefly so many times she wanted to actually meet you. And that was how you’d ended up sitting at his kitchen table, the three of you eating take-out with Al and Wade bickering back and forth to each other.
“I invite your girl over and you call me an old cunt? No manners with you!”
“You are an old cunt!”
“And you’re a little bitch but you don’t see me calling you that, do you now?” She bickered back at him, shaking her head and tutting at his grumbling before she turned back to you. “Is he like this with you, too? Don’t be afraid to put him in his place once in a while!”
Their bickering had dragged on for so long that it had almost lulled you into a small trance and you startled a little when you were addressed. “Huh? Oh yeah, he’s like this with me, too. But don’t worry I know how to shut him up.”
“Good.” Al praised you before pointing her fork at Wade. “Treat your girlfriend with some respect, Wade!”
This was definetely not casual. You two had never labeled your relationship and now Al was calling you Wade’s girlfriend. And you were trying your hardest to ignore the flutter in your stomach at those words. Next to you, Wade shook his head and laughed a little, putting a hand on your thigh.
“She’s not my girlfriend, Al. What we got is casual.” He explained, squeezing your thigh under the table and looked back at you. “Right?”
“Right.”
I know what you tell your friends It’s casual, if it’s casual now Then, baby, get me off again If it’s casual, it’s casual now
“Hey, Yukio!”
“Hey, Wade!” She waved back just as excitedly before she grinned happily at you. “Hey, Wade’s girlfriend!”
Wade chuckled at that and touched your waist, pulling you close. “Yukio, she’s not my girlfriend. We got something casual going on and I think labels like that would make it way too uncasual.”
“Uncasual is not a word, you dumb fuck.” Negasonic rolled her eyes before nodding toward you. “And leave it to a dumbass like you to not make it official when he’s found someone that puts up with him.”
“She doesn’t mind, you twerp.” Wade replied and squeezed your hip a little tighter before looking back at you. “Right, Hon?”
“Sure.”
You pointedly ignored the frown overtaking Wade’s features as he heard your tone of voice because you knew you hadn’t sounded as casual as you’d wanted to. When Colossus came in, greeting you two you quickly ducked away from Wade to give the other mutant a pat on the shoulder, greeting him with a small smile.
“So, you called us over because you needed our help.” You stated, feeling Wade’s gaze practically burn into the back of you head as you looked up at Colossus. “What can we do for you?”
“Glad you ask.” Colossus said and stretched out his arm to show you where to go. “You two can follow me and I’ll show you.”
“Perfect!”
Colossus left and you followed him, silently cursing yourself for how you’d failed at keeping this casual, for how you’d now probably outed your feelings for Wade to him. But you kept following Colossus, glad that whatever he needed help with would at least keep you and Wade occupied for now. Behind you Wade happily said goodbye to Yukio and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweet way he always interacted with her and how caring he was toward Negasonic, as well. After saying goodbye to the other teen you heard his footsteps picking up speed as he followed you.
Dumb love, I love being stupid Dream of us in a year Maybe we’d have an apartment
This was bad. Wade slowly sat up in his bed, swallowing thickly as his eyes flicked back to you, fast asleep next to him. He knew it was less than casual to let you stay after having sex but he’d always been one for rash decisions and when he’d had you panting in his arms, revelling in post-orgasmic bliss, he hadn’t really thought twice about letting you stay -- not that he often thought twice about things.
Now he was sitting in the dark, trying to make sense of his dream while the subject of said dream lay beside him. And really, a dream of you two living together in domestic bliss seemed way too Disney-esque for him but he couldn’t help but let himself enjoy the thought for a few seconds before he caught himself. There was a reason he’d wanted to keep this casual. As self sacrifical and overdramatic as it made him sound, he knew you were too good for him and the last thing he wanted was for you to settle for him.
Wade’s self depreciating thoughts were interrupted when you turned around to wrap your arms around his waist and he felt as though he was in a sappy romcom, about to get whisked of his glass slippers by his prince charming -- or in other words he felt happy. Gingerly, he lowered himself back down and wrapped his arms around you.
This was supposed to be casual. And he didn’t know why he couldn’t keep it that way.
Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out Is it casual now?
Your pretty eyes flicked up to look at him, gaze full of adoration, and Wade felt his insides turn the way only a knife in his stomach could make him feel. Cursing under his breath as you bobbed your head along his length, one hand squeezing his balls just the right way and the other grabbing onto his thigh. And now the tables had turned because he was so deep in his head that he couldn’t even properly enjoy this.
You gave him a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing as you started moving faster, obviously trying to get a reaction out of him and Wade brought a hand down to grasp at your hair, moaning lowly as he tried to will his thoughts away.
“You’re so good at this, fuck.”
A proud expression overcame your features as best as it could with a dick in your mouth and Wade groaned when he hit the back of your throat. Your hand let go of his thigh and he watched as you tightly squeezed your left thumb in your hand in what he knew was an attempt to fight of your gag reflex -- he’d have to ask you sometime whether or not that actually worked.
“You’re so fucking good at this, like you were made for it, like two American and one Japanese tourists were made for being sewn ass to mouth to-- to each other!”
A small amused huff of air through your nose made Wade look down, finding you rolling your eyes with such an affectionate expression, like you always did when he made a dumb joke, that he felt his chest clench more than his hole did when he saw you naked. And in that moment he realised what he was feeling.
He was in love with you.
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?
“Remind me again why your mom invited me over for brunch?”
“I was on the phone with her and I needed to get going because you were waiting for me. I made the mistake of saying that I was meeting Wade.” You explained, parking your car by your mother’s place. “Now she thinks we’re dating and I can’t stand her bugging me about meeting you anymore.”
Wade didn’t even find it in himself to correct you, to tell you that you two were in fact not dating and that, coupled with the fact that he was actually going to have brunch, made him feel like he was in a cheesy romcom and not an action movie. Instead he patted you on the leg and then got out of the car, waiting for you to lead the way.
Your mother seemed excited to meet him, pulling him into a bone crushing hug which was almost tight enough that it made him happy to have regenerative powers. But he had to admit that the brunch was nice. The food was good, your mother was friendly and never commented on his looks or his vocabulary. And when your hand came down on his tigh which he knew was to reprimand him for a particularly inappropriate joke by squeezing it in warning he couldn’t help reaching down and taking it. Yet he pointedly ignored the look that you gave him.
“You have an interesting humour, Wade.” Your mother coughed, having chocked on her drink because of his joke. “But my daughter isn’t any better, so I guess you’re a nice fit.”
“Mom, I told you, Wade and I are not dating.”
“By the sound of it you’re doing all sort of less innocent things with him, he holds your hand, he pulls back your chair for you and he comes to have brunch with your mother.” She said, amusement on her features as she shook her head. “And you young people nowadays don’t call that dating or a relationship?”
“Mom, don’t start with this again.”
“I won’t, don’t worry, Pumpkin.”
“Oh, I’m so using that nickname against you.” Wade joked, giving you a grin and his smile only grew when you rolled your eyes affectionately. “I love finding new ways to annoy you.”
“I’ll get you back for that, Wade.” You smirked before turning back to your mother with a small smile. “But thank you for dropping it, Mom. We’re not in a relationship and that’s that on that.”
“I just wonder what else you two would have to do until this would constitute a relationship.”
It’s hard being casual When my favorite bra lives in your dresser
“Come back to bed, Hon.”
“I have things to do.” You chastised Wade weakly, averting eye contact with him because you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for long if you turned around to look at him, splayed out on his bed with his legs spread invitingly. “Have you seen my bra?”
“The one you were wearing when you came over? No, I haven’t.” Wade shrugged before pointing at his dresser. “But you got another one stashed in my dresser.”
Once more you were reminded of how quickly you two were leaving the territory of a casual relationship, of friends with benefits, because when you opened the drawer you saw that not only was it one of your bras but that it was your favourite bra. You only realised that you had frozen when you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a head came down on your shoulder.
“If you’re just going to stand there like a pony figurine in a mason jar you might as well come back to bed.” Wade joked, leaning down to nip at your neck. “And then I can really make you feel like a figurine in a mason jar.”
“If you make one more cum jar joke, I will kick you in the balls.”
“You’re grinning as you’re threatening me.” Wade laughed softly, poking his finger into your side accusatory. “Don’t even pretend that you don’t find me funny.”
Rolling your eyes affectionately at his antics you resigned yourself to the fate of Wade dragging you back to bed. Maybe being in love with him wasn’t so bad, maybe it was fine to feel not only aroused by his touch but also feel your stomach flutter. If only you had the balls to tell him how you felt.
And it’s hard being casual When I’m on the phone talking down your sister
Unbeknownst to you, Wade was having the exact same crisis that came to and acme the night you two had to help your sister. She’d called in a panic, crying on the phone and going on about how her ex-boyfriend had broken into her apartment, demanding her back, and how she had just about managed to lock herself in her bedroom. Before you could assure her that you were on your way, she screamed on the other end of the line, screeching about how her boyfriend was trying to break down the door.
The line went dead and you let the phone sink into your lap, eyes looking up at Wade’s concerned face in the armchair opposite you. You didn’t let him get a word out before you were on your feet, rushing to put your shoes on. He came after you, pulling on his boots and asking you what was happening as you made your way down the stairs to your car. Quickly, you explained the situation and he grabbed your wrist before you could get into the car.
“Let go of me. I need to help my sister.”
“I know and you will. But I’m coming with you.” He said, shushing you with a finger to your face when you opened your mouth to argue. “When you’re hooking up with the Merc with a Mouth, you get the mouth but also the mercenary. Let’s go!”
Within the next ten minutes, you were at your sister’s place and as soon as you’d made it to her door, Wade was pushing you aside to kick it down. You found her ex-boyfriend Hunter by the door to the bedroom, hammering on it and you watched as Wade marched over. He grabbed Hunter around the throat and pulled him away, slamming him into a nearby wall. It didn’t even occur to Wade that beating up your sister’s stalker and making sure you both were safe was the furthest thing from casual he could think of because Hunter grabbed onto his arms in anger and startled him from his thoughts.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’ll be the last fucking thing you see if you don’t leave that woman alone!” He snapped at Hunter and you almost gasped in surprise when Wade pulled a knife from hs pocket, flicking it open and holding it to the other man’s cheek. “Go on, test me!”
Snapping out of your stupor you rushed over to the bedroom door and knocked on it. “Sis, it’s me. Open up the door. Wade’s got Hunter under control, so you’re safe.”
When your sister opened the door, you saw the tears running down her face and you immediately drew her into a tight embrace. Hunter tried to get lose but Wade flicked the knife around and stabbed him in the thigh, making the man howl out in pain. You turned your sister around, getting your body in between her and Hunter.
“Will you leave her alone or do you want to find out where else I can shove my knife?”
“Get off me!”
“Not good enough!” Wade slammed Hunter down to the floor, his knee pressing him down. “Hon, tell him that I’m not joking around. Tell him what I did to the last guy who thought it would be a good idea to stalk and harass innocent women!”
Holding your crying sister tighter you fixed Hunter with a determined stare. “I can’t tell you the details because I don’t want to traumatise my poor sister but let’s just say it wasn’t pretty and that guy isn’t pretty anymore, either!”
“I’m sorry.” Hunter cried out, face covered in blood and tears in his eyes. “I won’t talk to her again, I promise. Please, believe me!”
Wade pulled Hunter off the floor and dragged him to the door, throwing him into the hallway and making him collide with the opposite wall. “If I hear that you as much as looked at her again, I will come and find you. You don’t want that.”
Hunter nodded and scrambled off the floor, running down the hallway and Wade slammed the door shut, pulling up a chair to hook under the handle and barricade it. Then he turned back to you and your sister, finding her still crying and you trying to comfort her.
“I’m being serious. If he harasses you again, call me. Your sister can give you my number.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I’m so glad my sister’s boyfriend is a damn mercenary.”
Wade caught your eyes for a second and shook his head. “I’m not her boyfriend. This is a casual thing.”
“But you must have already been staying at her place to-- to even know what was going on and-- and you came over with her to help. How is that casual?”
“It just is!”
The look of hurt that crossed your face wasn’t lost on Wade but before he could speak up you did. “What’s your problem?”
“How can we keep this casual when I’m going to brunch with your mom, blind Al invites you over for dinner every-- every week, when you keep clothes at my place, when-- when I can’t stop thinking about the way you look at me?” He rambled, catching himself a little too late and shaking his head. “Fuck, I can’t do this anymore!”
You stared at Wade for a few long seconds, a range of emotions passing your face, from hurt over anger to hopelessness, and he felt terrible for making you feel like that. He was in love with you, as cheesy as it sounded, and he’d made you feel so horrible. This was the exact reason why he couldn’t be with you. He made you feel like that.
“What are you saying we should do?”
“I need some space.”
And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space
Giving Wade space was the hardest thing you’d done in a while, harder than taking down a crime syndicate, harder than fighting bad guys that wanted to take over the world and harder than stopping an alien invasion. Everything reminded you of him, from the spot on your kitchen counter he’d always sit on, over the way your passenger seat was always all the way back to allow for either of you to sit in the leg room and the shoes he’d left in your doorway the last time he’d come over, to his smell that still lingered on the pillow he used when he slept at your place.
You were so in love with Wade and being without him was tearing you apart.
So on a particularly lonely evening, with rain pouring down outside your windows, two weeks after you two had separated, you called him up. You tried to sound casual as you suggested coming over for sex, but you knew he would likely see right through you. As casual as you tried to make this hangout sound you knew the weight behind it. But he still agreed to come over, his voice sounding as casual as ever as he said he’d be over in half an hour.
Your doorbell rang only ten minutes later.
And this whole thing started again, the two of you sleeping with each other, promising one another that this time it would be casual because neither of you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship. But you knew it was a damn lie and you just waited on how long it would take for things to fall apart this time around.
I try to be the chill girl But honestly, I’m not
The fourth time Wade came over after you two had started your strange kind of relationship again was when he knew this would be impossible to keep casual. You tried your best and he could tell but it wasn’t just you who made it impossible. He had also missed you a lot and now that he was back with you he felt his feelings only growing.
Everything reminded him of how much he was in love with you. From watching you make breakfast in his kitchen, over the grin you flashed him whenever he made a dirty joke to the way you held onto him when you slept over at his place.
He tried to keep things casual but he knew he couldn’t and it became clear when your mother invited you two out for dinner so he could meet your father. And once more, at your mother’s insistence, you’d agreed.
“Why would you say yes? We just agreed to try to keep this casual and you tell your mom I’ll meet your father?”
“I’m sorry, you know how she is. It’s just dinner at the diner downtown. It’s casual.”
“It’s not!”
“Because you can’t keep it casual! My parents have had dinner with casual friends of mine too many times to count, so why can’t they have dinner with you and me?” You snapped and he glared at your accusation that this all was his fault, even though it partially was. “If you don’t want to come to dinner with me and my parents then don’t!”
“This is making it impossible for me to keep it casual!”
“No one is fucking forcing you to come to dinner!”
“Good, because I won’t come!”
I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter
He still showed up on time, wearing a brightly coloured button-down. The look of sheer surprise on your face made him almost laugh but he didn’t, still upset after your fight, though he didn’t know what he was even this upset about. He knew that it was most likely because he would never dare to take the next step, too convinced that he was no good for you -- after all, who would want to date a mercenary with a ton of emotional baggage that killed people? But he also felt bitter because he knew that he had been so adamant about keeping this casual that you would never take that step, either.
But the dinner went by nicely, without anyone asking strange questions and with your parents eventually getting distracted talking to an old friend they’d just happened to meet at the diner. He felt your hand on his thigh, creeping upwards, and raised an eyebrow at you to which he only got a small smirk. It didn’t really surprise him because you two had fucked in public bathrooms many times before but never at a restaurant, so your interest in this made part of him rear up in interest.
So when you excused yourself to the bathroom, he waited a few more minutes before declaring that he would get another drink and on his way to the waiter he made a detour, sneaking into the bathroom after you. And before long he had you propped against the wall, one leg hooked over his waist as he pounded into you. One of your hands grabbed onto his neck while the other covered your own mouth. He kept quiet by biting and nibbling on your neck, leaving deep purple marks and making you glad you’d worn a turtleneck that day.
“Come on, come for me.” He urged you on, placing kisses up and down your neck. “Come on my dick, like a good girl.”
You whimpered quietly at his words before taking your and from your mouth, letting it join your other hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Strangely it wasn’t the quiet praise you mumbled against his lips as he hit just the right spot or your sweet kiss that broke the camel's back. It was your nails gently carding down the back of his neck that did it, making Wade once more very aware of how he could never have you.
It was a fate he was choosing for himself -- he knew that and he didn’t need any of the readers calling him out on it -- but it was nonetheless upsetting. You gasped in surprise when he pulled out and set you down, letting your skirt fall from where it had bundled up around your hips.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this anymore and I know I’ve said this before but I really can’t. I’ve tried and I can’t.” He shook his head as he dressed himself again, watching you do the same. “I can’t keep this casual.”
“Wade, please don’t leave.”
“This is for your own good.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”
“Just get out of here, you dumb animal!”
“If you fucking pull a ‘White Fang’ on me now, I will lose it.”
“’White Fang’? I was quoting Spongebob!” Wade defended himself but then shook his head because this was not the discussion he wanted to have. “Let’s just end this.”
With that, he left and he felt his heart actually ache for you as he heard your footsteps hurrying after him, calling out for him to stop. He heard the tears in your voice as he left the room, as he ignored the staff threatening to ban you from the diner for hooking up in the bathroom and as he heard your parents calling after you to stop you from leaving. But he kept going, knowing this was better for you or at least convincing himself that it was. And when he got into his old run-down car and pulled out of the parking lot, he saw you standing by the entrance, crying your eyes out.
I hate that I let this drag on so long
You had never been a quitter, never one to back down from a fight and you knew it wouldn’t surprise Wade when you knocked on his door not even half an hour later. He opened the door, opening his mouth to tell you to leave again but you dove in to kiss him, grabbing his head with both your hands and pulling him close to your body. And to your surprise he kissed you back for a fraction of a second before he shoved you off again, shaking his head and waving his hands around. But you didn’t give him a chance to speak because you were faster.
“I love you, Wade!”
“You’re fucking with me right now, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.” You said sternly, grabbing his hands and making him look at you. “I was such a damn moron letting this whole casual thing drag on for so long because I was too much of a pussy to tell you, but I love you.”
Wade blinked at you and opened his mouth to speak before closing it again, then repeating the process a few more times. If this situation hadn’t been so serious you would have laughed at how you had successfully managed to shut him up. But the quiet was making you nervous so you spoke up again.
“Please, just say something. I can handle rejection, too. But please, say something.”
“I love you, too!” He almost yelled, blinking in surprise at his outburst before quickly continuing. “But we can’t be together. You know, I don’t want this to be some stupid romcom cliche but this really is for your own good. I’m a mercenary, even if I’ve saved the world or some people a few times, and I’m terrible with feelings and you’ve seen yourself how bad I am at communicating.”
“So what?”
“So what?”
“So what if you’re bad at communicating, you’re bad at feelings and you kill people? I still love you and I want to be with you, for real, without anything casual. Please, let me decide for myself what’s good for me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything before.” You smiled, looking back at him. “Does that mean we’re no longer trying to just be casual?”
“Never again.”
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avocado-writing · 3 months ago
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Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗
Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓
possibly based on real life events.
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Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 
In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 
“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.
You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.
“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”
Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 
You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 
Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 
They are really fucking good though. 
He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 
And then he hears sobbing. 
“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…
…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 
“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”
“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 
He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 
To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 
“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 
“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”
Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk
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earthtooz · 9 months ago
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in which: al haitham gives you something on his birthday.
fluff, gn!reader, quick drabble for this special scholar's birthday ^-^
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“As much as I appreciate these… heavy, complicated-sounding books, it’s your birthday, Al Haitham, I’m supposed to be giving you a gift.” You explain as you move all three books under one arm. Did he expect you to finish all of these any time soon? 
Sure you enjoyed reading, but you’re not sure you can classify yourself in the same category as your bookworm-boyfriend who burrows himself in words whenever he can, hence, the intimidation you felt when he placed all of these in your arms.
“Just because you’re ‘supposed’ to give me a gift doesn’t mean I cannot gift one in return.” He counters, rationally and level-headed as ever. “Besides, you accepting these makes me satisfied with myself, and wouldn’t you say that emotional compensation is a gift in of itself?”
“There is no winning against you.”
He looks content with himself, crossing his annoyingly muscular arms over his chest with a slight smirk. “Looks like I can say ‘no’ to you.”
You roll your eyes at his comment. “Whatever. By the time I’m through with these, my arms will start looking like yours with the weight of these beasts for books.” 
Wordlessly, he takes the pile from you, holding them comfortably with both hands and relieving the strain on you. “Shall I put these down somewhere for you?”
“Just on the coffee table will do.”
Your eyes linger a little longer on the way his muscles contract as he walks around your living room, and it’s as if he can feel your stare when he shouts at you from over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go to Lambad’s Tavern? Everyone else may be at Avidya Forest, but at this rate, we’ll be the last ones.” 
“I hear you, I hear you,” you murmur, retreating to your bedroom.
***
A week and a half later, you find yourself relaxing with Al Haitham in the comfort of your living room again, your legs on his lap whilst his arms cage you there, a book in his hands. The cover, however, is awfully familiar, and you realise it’s one of the books he gifted you on his birthday that you were at most seven chapters through. Why was he reading it? 
“I left my bookmark in there, did you take it out?” You ask, sitting up. 
The ashen-haired raises a brow at you. “This is my copy.”
“What? Didn’t you get me that on your birthday?”
“I did. I got us both a copy, of the same edition.”
“Why?”
“Remember when you suggested that we should find more hobbies to share? This should be one of them.”
Blinking at him once, twice, three times, you burst out into a fit of giggles, enamoured by the antics of your deceivingly stoic boyfriend. Throwing your arms around his neck, the (smaller) book in your hands hits his shoulder, and you grin up at him. “You can be so silly, Al Haitham.”
Though the hobbies you had in mind looked something more like new activities neither of you had tried before, you're flattered that he wants to include you in something that he loves to indulge himself in.
“Silly? I thought this was a rather reasonable solution.”
He lets you squish his cheeks with one hand, eyes never straying from the contents of his page. You thank your lucky stars that you’re the one who gets to hold him like this, and that you’re the one he wants to read together with- in the most practical manner. “It can be both- it is both.” 
“Are you enjoying it?”
“I am, but maybe you should slow down. You’re already half way through when I’m not even one-eighth of the way.” 
“I’ll wait. We can talk about it when you’re done.”
“Is this new ‘hobby’ a satisfactory gift, Haitham?”
A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Most certainly.” 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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cherrychilli · 14 days ago
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18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, established relationship, oral sex (m receiving), performing sex acts with food Summary: Eddie makes an unusual request when watching you eat your favorite candy gives him an idea WC: 2.7K
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A/N: I've got a serious sweet tooth and with it being spooky season and all, I just had to write this. Enjoy!
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You'd been doing it for a while now, peering out of your bedroom window to watch the brisk autumn breeze lift withered leaves of orange and brown up high before they fluttered back down and came to rest on your front lawn.
Somehow you were yet to tire of of the sight, feeling both soothed and all cozied up in the blanket you'd plucked from your bed. Draping it around your shoulders, you wrapped the rest around your middle while you stood there, creating a cocoon of warmth as you watched more fallen leaves tumble along the yard before the wind blew them up high again.
You liked this time of year more than others, content with quietly soaking up all the little sights and sounds Autumn had to offer when the sound of your cellphone rattling on your desk takes you out of the peaceful scene.
Crossing the room before you miss it, you see the name displayed on your screen and that alone is enough to make you smile, happily swiping to answer his call.
You'd been set on spending the day at home and all bundled up when only three minutes into the call and he manages to tempt you out of your cocoon. Eddie was always good at convincing you like that, this time inviting you over for a lazy evening at his place. He makes promises of a B horror movie classic shoved into the VCR to entertain you both and more importantly, a bowl full of your favorites to fill your belly.
Swallowing as you salivate, you promise to be there in no more than fifteen minutes, managing a quick change of clothes before you take off for the trailer park with your tummy rumbling all throughout your drive there.
By the time you arrive with five minutes to spare too, the once bright flamingo sky had started to dull into a dark raven, the stars and moon soon to follow as you step out of the car and make your way over.
Treading towards the trailer your eyes settle on something both new and familiar, a big smile breaking out on your face when you get a little closer and recognize the carved pumpkin sitting out on the Munson's doorstep.
Eddie and you had made it together a few days before, the two of you trying your best but ultimately struggling. The task was so much harder to complete than than it looked, leaving the both of you fed up and more than a little sick of the earthy scent of pumpkin that clung to your fingers.
You assumed he'd have thrown it in the trash but seeing it now, with its flame flickering gently, you found the misshapen, jagged edges framing the jack o lanterns grin oddly charming and not the disaster you thought it'd be. What's more, you liked that he cared enough to still display it proudly as a symbol of your joint effort.
Skipping up the stairs, you find the door already unlocked for you as the knob turns and you step inside, nearly bumping into Eddie in the middle of drawing the curtains shut. He takes a quick pause to kiss you hello, his lips tasting of sticky sweet strawberry before he finishes flicking the lights off to view tonight's horror movie.
"Take a seat, babe", he tells you, hurrying into the kitchenette and back with a few sodas.
You step towards the couch though you hang on the way he smiles at you, just as you had with the your gaze trained on the leaves rustling along on your lawn.
You can't help noticing the way Eddie's cheeks have begun to fill out from the frequent snacking he's done this month, not to mention the way his stomach has rounded out a bit underneath his t-shirt, the sleeves fitting more snugly around his biceps too as do his jeans as they show off the thickness of his thighs.
It's a subtle, chubby layer that makes a quiet urge brew inside you, wanting to wrap yourself around him and feel all the places he's turned softer before kissing him hard all over.
All in good time, you think to yourself, taking your place on the couch while Eddie feeds a copy of Basket Case into the VCR.
Propping your elbows on your thighs, your chin resting in your palms, you lean forward to peruse the evening's offerings sitting on the table in front of you, grinning excitedly at all the treats crowding the bowl.
"As promised my dear lady", Eddie gestures to the bowl when he catches you looking, walking back to the couch to sit by you with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.
There's enough candy inside to cause a spill if you're not careful, the top layer alone filled with so many kinds, all different flavors and sizes. You realize you're completely spoilt for choice when your eyes wander all over, roving over cherry sours, peanut butter bars, strawberry bon bons, grape sweetarts and many many more.
"Eds, this is too much", you chuckle, poking a strawberry twizzler resting at the very top of the pile.
Without missing a beat he's quick to flash you one of his best smiles, wide and warm, enough to make the coldest parts of you melt. "Just wanted to treat my favorite girl", he winks back.
That earns him another kiss, one he's more than happy to receive when you pull him closer and press your lips to the full apple of his cheek, his heart somersaulting from the quick little show of affection.
"Thank you", you tell him sincerely, giggling when you notice the sparkle glittering in his eyes.
"Oh come on. It's the least I could have done", he adds sheepishly.
With that settled, your fingers twitch as you turn your attention back to the candy, trying to decide on what you should unwrap first before you settle on a packet of pink starbursts.
The first hour passes without a hitch after that, your thigh warm against Eddie's while the two of you juggle watching the movie, making cracks at it and snacking on everything sweet and sour.
A little pile of empty candy wrappers accumulate beside the bowl during that time, still quite a bit to get through even with Eddie's help. By this point you'd sucked on many a lemon head, chewed every kind of bubble gum and bit into the occasional gooey caramels that had you sucking the stubborn leftovers still clinging to your back teeth. You fed some into Eddie's mouth too, making him happier and happier to know how much you're enjoying his little gift.
So much so that he'd begun to watch you out of the corner of his eye from time to time with quiet fascination, watching you pick a new candy and munch on it before you moved on to another.
It must be the way you're pressed up against him and the way you sweetly kiss his fingers to clear the occasional dusting of powdered sugar or smudge of gummy cherry lingering on him because he's just about lost all interest in the movie playing on TV.
He can't help but note the way your soft, sweet lips fit around each piece of candy as you place them in your mouth, your cheeks growing full and puffing out until you've chewed enough to swallow. He's transfixed on the way your tongue wraps around every lollipop, the way you suck suck suck on every sour candy, every movement of your mouth conjuring the kind of thoughts he ought to keep to himself.
That is until he feels you shift beside him.
Your eyes are coyly set on the TV like you're yet to notice Eddie's gaze on you, or at least he had thought so. He knows what's coming next when his eyes fall to his lap, your hand resting there casually, lightly grazing his dark jeans as you inch it higher and higher towards his crotch when suddenly he croaks out, "Babe? it's not that I don't want it- its just...I have this... idea and I want to run it by you first."
The movie is entirely forgotten at this point, still playing in the background and keeping the trailer lit as you listen attentively, eyes blinking up at Eddie when he finally spits it out.
"You want me to do what?", you ask, half taken aback, half ready to chortle.
"You think it's stupid, don't you?", he asks, his lips drooping into a little frown.
"I didn't say that", you tell him, huffing out a laugh through your nose when he lights up again like fireworks.
"It's just that it's not every day that I get asked to suck your cock with a mouthful of pop rocks, you know?"
Eddie lets out a weak laugh, shaking his head when he realizes how his proposition must sound to you.
"Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry, let's just forget the who-"
"Woah woah, slow down-", you quickly bring your face up to his, pressing your index finger at his lips to silence him, your gaze locked on his bambi brown eyes. You let your other hand scale his thigh just as before, this time making it to his crotch where you rub your palm firmly over the girth of his stiffening bulge. "-and take your pants off for me, Munson."
~
A weathered couch cushion keeps your knees from feeling sore, your palms pushing gently at Eddie's hairy, bare inner thighs to make room for yourself between his legs.
"Y' ready?" you ask him, peppy with excitement when you retrieve the little packet of cherry pop rocks from the half empty bowl of candy, bringing it up to your mouth to rip it open with your teeth.
You can tell that the sight of you like this is only making him even more eager judging by the way his cock twitches against his soft, pudgy belly, leaving a messy streak of precum along his skin.
"Keep doing stuff like that and I might finish before you even get started", he chuckles lightly.
Exchanging smirks, you take that as your cue to part your lips and tip the little packet of pop rocks into your mouth, the taste of sweet, tangy sugar fresh on your tongue.
The contents crackle and pop there, tickling the inside of your cheeks and the roof of your mouth too. Setting the packet aside, you wrap your fingers around Eddie's girth. With one last look at his blushing mauve cheeks and his wide, unblinking eyes, you open your mouth the point you know that your jaw will be sore later. Not that you cared, gently fitting his cock inside your waiting mouth.
"Oh god- o-oh fuck ngh...baby!"
You can only imagine what it must feel like for Eddie, your eyes fixed on the way his own squeeze shut and his teeth bite into his lower lip. For a second you even worry he might be in pain as you watch him closely, concern taking over you as you try to remove your mouth from him but Eddie moves quicker than you can.
He works a trembling hand into your hair to keep you situated. The feeling undoubtedly intense, he still manages to guide you up and down his candied shaft gently, enough to make you hum with relief as you refocus your efforts on making him feel good.
The confection continues to crackle and pop pleasantly in your mouth, tickling the back of your throat when his tip nudges you there. His entire cock is sweet to the taste as you bob and slurp thoroughly all over him, the fruity scent of cherry blending with Eddie's natural musk permeating from the untrimmed hair at his base. You liked the way it brushes your nose when you take him in deep, making sure to breathe in the scent in deep, slow breaths.
As for Eddie, the gentle motion of you tasting every inch of him makes him squirm on the couch, your saliva turning thick with the addition of the candy, a sugary syrup of sorts that tints your lips and his dick in a matching shade of rosy red.
Among the many expletives running through his mind, Eddie curses himself for not having thought of this sooner but more importantly he thinks of how he'll be returning the favor later, dead set on finding a way to give you the same kind of pleasure you're so eagerly giving him.
Comfortably perched between his legs, you take in every sigh that falls from his lips, every groan and moan that makes you tingle from the base of your spine to the top, every breathy call of your name sounding more sweeter than the last.
"Keep looking at me...yeah, that's it...need to...shi- you look so fucking perfect right now"
As much as it fills your chest with sunny warmth to hear that, you want to tell him that you feel the same way too, that you've never set your eyes on anything as beautiful as how he looks right now.
If your mouth wasn't so full with him you'd tell him how much you adored his flushed cheeks, his swollen lips and the way his sweat makes his skin glisten but something tells you that he already knows, both of you able to convey your understanding through looks alone.
So when you begin to swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock like a lolly you can tell by his pinched expression and increasingly choppy breathing that his climax isn't far off but he makes sure to tell you anyway,
"Not gonna last long, angel...", he lets out a low, pretty whine, "that mouth of yours...fuck...'s damn near dangerous"
You fight off a small laugh as you beam with pride. How could you not after receiving such praise? practically smiling around Eddie's cock as you suckle him softly.
"Wanna watch you swallow it. Wanna see it in your mouth- all full of it. C-can you do that for me? m' almost there"
As much as you'd like to run your tongue along him just a little longer, feeling him twitch and pulse in your mouth you oblige, slowly sucking your way up to his tip and letting it go with an audible pop.
Taking a moment to rub at your tired jaw, you notice all the tiny leftover specs of candy yet to dissolve coating his glossy, throbbing length, your own mouth still containing a few globs of pop rocks.
There's no time to ask if you could lick them clean, reading the urgent expression on Eddie's face with ease and dutifully opening your mouth for him. He takes over by holding his dick and stroking himself quickly, his reddened tip resting on your red stained tongue.
All it takes is a few, quick strokes until his breath stutters and his body shudders, his thick cum spurting so much and so far you feel the creamy ropes splatter some of your teeth and hit the back of your throat where it then begins to slide down, triggering you to swallow.
While you swish and taste the leftover candy cum combination in your mouth, Eddie damn near blacks out from pumping his load into your mouth, his vision turning spotty before he's able to focus on you again. Chest heaving with deep, shaky breaths, he watches in mute amazement at the way you insatiably lap up his tangy spend, raising a curious eyebrow at you when instead of getting up off your knees, you turn to fiddle with the candy bowl instead.
Though it feels impossible, you find a way to breathe more life into his spent body so quickly after making him cum and no one's more surprised about it than Eddie. His stomach flutters and his cock begins to twitch back to stiffness when he sees what you've got a hold of and Eddie realizes with glee that the night is nowhere near over.
Holding up two packets in each hand as you smile up at him from between his legs, you ask him,
"So which do you want me to try next? watermelon or blue razzberry?"
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heaven-s-black-box · 2 months ago
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Notes- Shorter S/O Neuvillette & more x gn!Reader
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Recovery date: September 11th, 2024
Description: heyy can i get headcanons of the genshin boys being taller by the gn reader by a head? For the characters can i get neuvillette, diluc, al haitham, xiao and anyone else u wanna write! Feel free to delete if ur not comfortable with this, and have a nice day! <3
Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I added Ganyu, Layla, and Lumine. I was going to add Furina but it was getting too long. Heights taken from the gamer, also a head's height difference is about a foot.
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Neuvillette- 5’11”
A head’s difference is nothing, he’s used to looking at Melusines
Plus he’s almost 6 foot
He has to look down at most people
I feel like, as a dragon, he’s a bit protective of everyone smaller than him
Just in a pack kind of way where he’s looking out for the young/weak
Not to mention to him you are young, assuming you’re mortal
Not a very physically affectionate person, so doesn’t do things like use you as a chin rest
Does, however, enjoy you tucking into his side
He is starved for touch and affection, simple physicality makes him happy
I also feel like he tries to make himself smaller outside of court
Assure him you like his height and remind him to straighten up
Oo, leans down to listen to you! Tap his shoulder and he’ll lean close so you can whisper in his ear
Surprise him by jumping/getting on your toes/climbing up to kiss him and he will short circuit
Quickly starts keeping things you need on lower shelves, again he shares an office with Melusines he’s used to it
Overall, the height difference isn’t a big deal to him
Diluc- 5’10”
Also just shy of 6 foot, but most people in Mondstadt are tall and children avoid him
So he’s not really used to looking down (Jean wears heels and is 5’6”, he doesn’t have to look down much)
Likes the domesticity of seeing you in his clothes, no matter how they fit
Maybe sleeves are too long, or your torso is short and shirts fit you like dresses
Affection doesn’t come naturally to him, but once he warms up to it he will rest his chin on your head
Between his height and strength picking you up is easy and he surprises himself with how much he likes it
Keeps finding excuses to do it, like helping you over a puddle or down the steps
More than happy to lean down for whatever reason, be it so you can feed him something or whisper something
His favorite reason is surprise kisses though, but his all time favorite surprise kisses are when you yank him by the lapels of his jacket
If you live together he will try and keep your things on slightly lower shelves, but also you aren’t usually getting things the maids are
Overall, enjoys the height difference
Al Haitham- 5’11”
Once more, almost 6 foot
He, however, does not like looking down at people because it hurts his neck
Regularly complain about this to you
I’m torn between him teasing you and not wanting to put the effort in to that
I think if you start bickering, your height is on the table for teasing
Like if you’re ignoring each other, he’ll walk into you and claim he “couldn’t see you down there”
However, if you live together or even if you just stay over frequently, will leave things on lower shelves and gets a step stool
Leans on you saying he’s tired
Spends most of his time sitting/lounging so I don’t think his height is really a big deal
Definitely makes you work for his affection though, you will need to pull up a stool/kick him in the knees to get kisses
Can also easily pick you up if he thinks you’re taking too long to get somewhere
Overall, notices the height difference but doesn’t really comment on it
Xiao- 5’2”
Isn’t used to looking down at people who aren’t children
Seriously, very rarely does he meet people shorter than him
However, that doesn’t mean he’s super excited you’re shorter than him, he’s kind of indifferent
He will happily get things for you that you can’t reach though
Like Neuvillette, he likes to make himself seem smaller
Though in his case it’s for comfort, he likes curling into you once you get to that point
Also starved for touch and affection, but also traumatized from losing all his friends
So curling into you gives him all kinds of assurance
When you wave for him to bend down, it sometimes takes him a minute
Already short circuits with affection, but your head naturally resting on his shoulder during hugs really breaks him
You just fit together so well
He has a stool so he can reach high shelves, so when he forgets to leave your stuff on lower shelves it’s not too big a deal
Overall, give him a bit to get used to being the tall one but otherwise indifferent
Ganyu- 5’1”
Her heels probably have her standing at about 5’2”
So she’s used to looking up at people, most of the adepti are really tall and even Keqing is slightly taller than her
Definitely likes being able to let you hide behind her, she likes protecting you
Like Xiao, she isn’t used to being the tall one, but she gets really flustered and apologetic when you ask her to leave things on lower shelves
Pretend like you what to whisper something and kiss her when she leans down
She’ll get flustered then ask “what did you want to tell me?”
Being able to pick you up makes her feel extra strong, so sometimes if you want to get something high up she’ll just lift you
Look, we know she’s strong but we all played her character quest
Also likes when you lay on her/she’s the big spoon
I feel like being one of the shortest adepti weighs on her, so she totally understands if you’re self-conscious about your height
But she loves you, doesn’t matter if you’re shorter or taller than her
Also, she may be taller than you but if you kabedon/ flirt with her with any level of confidence she will shrink in on herself in embarrassment
Overall, loves the height difference 
Layla- 5’2”
Like Xiao and Ganyu, a little shorter than the world average so she kind of has to look up at most people
Not significantly, but she’s not used to looking down
She also doesn’t talk to people often, and when she does she’s sitting
In fact she’ll probably be seated for most of your conversations, so stand over her and fluster her
Will lean into you while you walk
Has also fallen asleep with her chin on your head or leaning over so her chin is on your shoulder
The sudden weight has probably nearly toppled you a few times
Likes to lay on you, her head on your chest
I feel like she naturally curls in on herself a lot, just from exhaustion and maybe a bit of self-consciousness
Would love to let you lean on her but she’s not sure she could keep you up right
Keeps things on low shelves anyways, sometimes standing on a stool seems like a really bad idea
Overall, the height difference doesn’t really affect your relationship
Lumine- 5’2”
Look, Aether is 2 inches taller, she never heard the end of it once she stopped growing
Another member of the, pretty much everyone is taller than me club
Her heels add maybe a half inch, they look pretty small
Loves being the taller one
Need help getting something from the top shelf? She’s on it, even if she has to get a stool
You asked her to get it, she knows you could use the stool but you’ve already asked her
Can’t see something? Want to get on her shoulders? Up you go
Likes being the big spoon/letting you lay on her because she’s terrified you’ll disappear
Seriously, she’s lost so many people on her journey so far
Uses you as an arm/head rest when you’re standing around
Will make lighthearted remarks about your height if you don’t mind
Stuff like “I could probably sneak you in in my bag”, usually it’s stuff Aether has said to her at some point
Kiss her bare shoulders, it makes her jump and she loves them
Overall, will only tease you about your height if you’re okay with it
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alastorsfuckassbob · 10 months ago
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We'll Meet Again
Alastorxfem!reader
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Part two to "you're never fully dressed without a smile"
Plot: You're down infamously bad for Alastor. You work for a shift for Valentino and somehow you end up at everyone's favorite hell based hotel! I swear to god you will make physical contact with deal Al by chapter 3.
A/N: OH GOD THIS IS A LONG ONE, and honestly for an Alastor fic really Valentino and Angel Dust focused- but like any good story there are more than two characters so we should develop them✨
As always, minors DNI-
Somehow we got spicer and a bit more angsty so read the warnings and think critically if its something you really want to read
⚠️WARNINGS⚠️
-Domestic Violence, Abusive Relationships
-Swearing
-Valentino (has to be its own warning)
-Smoking and Alcohol use
-Sexual Innuendo
"Y/n"
"Y/n, please let me hear you. Your voice lights a fire within me that I cannot ignore"
The static popped, heartfelt and genuine, the phrase echoing throughout the dimly lit room and deep into the pits of your soul. It reminded you of those late nights spent at the studio with him. Of the memories you had created with him, you spent the least time mulling over your time at the station. It was just too much to handle, you would sit for hours talking about whatever fancies fit the time, swaying to the complex chords and swing of the music. No matter what mood you walked in with, it vanished the moment your frame entered his arms. Your hand grazed the edge of your cheek in the mirror imagining how his hand traced the outline of your face as it so often used to do. The show had hundreds of listeners, you were speaking to the world so it would appear, but anything and everything you said or played was made strictly for each-other.
Here you were, lost in time once again. You had missed those little moments, far more than you anticipated. You had always been one to get lost following the tracks of memory. but this..this was different, your body felt as if it was buzzing. His honey lined transatlantic accent reverberated throughout your skull. Sickeningly sweet, holding desperation but still not depravity. It lacked the typical Sadism and savagery, a commonality in your hellish experience. The wicked pair usually found itself wrapped around your arm and caught against your throat. You had become accustomed to those feelings of desperation, but somehow his was different. He hadn't said much of anything and it felt like he had bottled every sweet nothing and loving whisper he had uttered in your direction throughout your life, and poured them into his tonality all at once. The static grew heavier.
"Y/-n y-y-N"
his voice became distorted and crackled. He kept speaking but the words were mangled and malformed. You couldn't quite make out what he was attempting to get across. You couldn't lose him not another time, even if you hadn't really "had him" again.
It was enough to send you into a fit of desperation.The incoherencies faded out, only deafening static remained .
"Alastor"
your wavering voice filled with alarm. You rushed to the radio nearly falling of the counter as you did so. You feverishly tuned the knob hoping for just another moment with him, even if it was just audibly. The electricity crackles, and dark grey smoke erupts from the small box and into your face. You cough rapidly upon contact. The fire sparks, promptly melting the exterior of the radio.
"shit fuck shit fuck shit"
You rasp between coughs. Something ablaze was not entirely out of the ordinary, yet you remained panicked. you thoughtlessly unplug the radio, scalding your hands in the process. Not knowing what else to do, you throw the newly aflame radio into the tub. It wheezes out another plume of smoke before sinking down into the water.
"well that isn't..ideal"
You decide its a tomorrow issue and head off to sleep. Still slightly shaken up, you throw on a silky nightgown and plop into your bed. You wouldn't find peace in your sleep, you never did. You closed your eyes unready to face your demons but too exhausted to care.
The next day comes to pass sooner than you'd care to admit. You don't feel well rested, but you can't find it in yourself to go back to sleep. Your thoughts are still so dreadfully plagued with Alastor. The way his lips felt on your own, the soft gentle curl of his hair. Everything aspect of him was so fundamentally perfect. Even his so called flaws. He may be an attention seeking idiot, but he was your attention seeking idiot. That was all that mattered. You'd be happy to do most anything to supply him his attention fix. You looked at the clock across from your bed, it was already noon. You had told Angel you'd be at the club around one. Unhappily, you rolled out of bed grabbing another outfit from your closet to change into. You applied some simple mascara, and tied up your hair. You could finish getting read with Angel Dust like you usually did.
You arrive at the club meet Angel, you liked to arrive a few hours before your call time just to talk with each other. You had vastly different schedules but you made it work. You walk through the lobby watching other scandalously dressed demons go about their daily life. You could have sworn you saw a flick of shadow watching you from behind the other inhabitants. You shook it off, you didn't sleep well, its possible you're just seeing things.
You arrive at your dressing room, and knock at the door. Its a calm and quiet environment. The eye before the storm working tonight will plunge you both into.
"the fuck do you want, can't a guy do his eyeliner in peace"
you roll your eyes before opening the door, he glances back at you.
"oh hey toots, didn't expect you so soon- you're not late"
"Fuck off angel"
you sit down in your chair and begin brushing out your hair. Val was very particular about the image you portrayed, even if your hair was already curly he'd want it to curl differently, If it was straight, he'd want it consistent coiffed to his liking.
If you didn't have hair he'd probably get you a wig of some kind. You glance down at the black porcelain mask on the counter. It was delicately painted with small golden roses. It was the only thing between you and an army of horny fans. Angel finishes his eyeliner with a small flick of a wing.
He stands up and takes the brush from you. He combs through the ends making sure there aren't any tangles left before grabbing the curling iron. To be quite honest, you both absolutely sucked at doing your own hair, so you did each others. It was nice, and he always made you look good. You had known angel for quite some time, you felt like you knew who he was but nothing about him.
He was always rather private about the details of his life before hell. You had gathered he was Italian by his sound, and that he had been involved with the mob from small anecdotes he sometimes shared.
It didn't really matter who he used to be, he was your friend and you loved him.
"I mean this in the nicest way possible y/n, but you look like shit" He grabbed a strand of your hair wrapping it around the wand.
"oh gee thanks" you deadpan
"long night?" he asks releasing your hair from the curling wand scrunching it slightly.
"something like that, how about you, you look shockingly well rested, and i doubt its just the concealer"
"I'm staying at a new place" he continues working his way around your head.
"Val let you leave?" a hint of shock permeated your voice
"he can't dictate where i stay when i'm off the clock babe" He grabs a smaller curling want and begins with some small face framing pieces.
"does he know?" you ask hesitantly. You didn't want to upset him.
"I don't think he's caught on yet, probably figures I'm just out getting drunk and high off my ass"
"to be fair you often are"
"you're no angel either y/n" He rolls his eyes, he picks up the larger wand again and re-curls a few more of the back pieces.
"where did you move off to?"
You were lucky to have your own apartment. Most souls under contract with Valentino stayed in the complex....Your situation wasn't much better but it was enough. To be completely honest, you only lived about a ten minute walk from here. It wasn't much of a distance, but it was far enough Valentino would rather call upon some other, closer, unlucky soul outside of work hours to do his bidding. It was good enough. It was shocking to hear Angel had managed to find someplace with his cocaine habit and how little Val payed us.
"Its that rickety hotel on the edge of the Pride ring, I know it doesn't sound like much but its free" You almost visibly buffered from shock. How did he manage that? Then it hits you, he's probably sleeping there for free because he's sleeping with someone.
"who'd you have to fuck to get a room there"
"y/n" he groaned, slightly annoyed by your antics.
"No angel I'm serious, its hell people don't just give things out for free" you mused at his reaction.
"I didn't have to fuck anyone, its run by the princess, shes trying to rehabilitate souls"
"is that even possible" your mind began to swim with possibility.
"i dunno, i don't really care. It gives me a space to just exist..as myself..away from all of this"
your hand finds his way into one of his.
"i understand what you mean" your voice comes out no more than a whisper.
He continues curling your hair silently for a bit. Angel had his issues but he was a good person. He just found himself in a bad situation. Unexpectedly, he broke the silence. You two had a lot in common, including your tendencies of avoidance.
"you should live there too y/n, its free, and theres a bar, the bartender isn't too bad looking either."
You smile at the thought, it would be nice to get away from it all. Thats all it could be though, a thought. You were already on such thin ice with Val.
"Angie dear it sounds nice, but we both know I'm already Val's least favorite sinner. I shouldn't aggravate him more" you say with a defeated huff. Angel wraps another tendril of your h/c hair around the wand
"You can't let his life be your only life. I'm not stupid doll, I know you've been spending a lot more time around here." He's visibly and audibly frustrated.
He stays quiet for a minute picking up another strand of your hair.
"you're more than what you can do for Valentino okay? you were a person before you're still a person after, don't let him take everything from you." his voice becomes quiet, almost unrecognizable. Its velvety in a way, he speaks almost as if he's telling you just as much as he's telling himself Its the realest you've ever seen him be.
He quickly shakes it off
"his ugly mug cant be the only thing you see, I swear to god every time I look at him I throw up a little" He releases your hair from the curling iron stepping back to admire his work.
"now don't you look riveting" A jokingly seductive tone takes hold of his voice.
Your mind sparks with an idea, why complain about Val when you can just straight up mock him?
You stand up, rushing to the clothing rack, sift through the items before finding a long cherry red robe. Naturally its angel's. Its far too long for you, the second set of arms gets a little confusing, but eventually you slide it on. You sit back seductively on the counter mocking good ol Valentino.
"angel dust! you slut! you're fucking 20 guys before lunch! " You cross your arms dramatically before standing up on the counter. You strut across, being careful not to step on any of his things, but still maintaining the destructive energy Val usually carries.
A wild smile courses through your features, you grab the magazine Angel had been reading before you came in and throw it back into his face.
"Heres the 40 page shockingly kinky script about some kidnapping scene in France you have an hour to memorize, ignore the syntax errors and improvise!" He looks up at you baffled. I mean, you were right-He starts laughing uncontrollably,
"y/n what the fuck" he sputters out
You laugh along with him. He reaches up placing his arms around your waist, putting you onto the ground with very minimal effort. For a second you feel a bit like a house cat hopeless dragged off the counter. Angel was shockingly strong, for such a lanky guy he certainly wasn't flimsy or weak
A smug look overtakes his features
"let me show you how its really done"
He takes the robe off of your body and dawns it himself. He whips out a pair of bedazzled pink sunnies. Tilting them down, he gives you a cheeky wink. Once the knot of the belt is tied he is fully into character
"My siren! Y/n."
"oh god" you roll your eyes as angel begins his display. He walks across the room dragging you with him before twirling you into his arms. You cant help but be a little dizzy at the sudden motion.
"y/n, baby! You have made much so much money with that truly bodacious rack" He swings his arm around your waist. You both stifle a laugh as he drags his second set of hands across the shape of your body in the air in front of you.
"Angel I don't think Valentino would ever utter the phrase "bodacious rack", at least not in this existence" You form your fingers into little air quotes playfully rolling your eyes at him
"shh toots i am working on a real character here"
"Angel" you sigh
"shh" he hushes you again placing his finger against your lips.
Your collective antics go on for a little over two hours, stopping only briefly for you to style his fleecy hair. He looks at the clock before letting out an aggravated sigh. He pulls his body up from his chair.
"I gotta go doll, Val has me shootin yet another new movie before we shoot the scheduled "film", perks of being Hell's best actor" He grumbles grabbing his robe off of the floor leaving you alone in your shared dressing room.
You continued getting ready, expertly styling your newly curled hair and applying a thick coat of deep red lipstick. It wasn't too long after the door swung open. The suffocating smell of lust filling your lungs.
"My dear sweet y/n! how about we lose the mask for tonight?" Valentino burst into the room as if he owned the place. To be fair, he did. You still found it a bit off putting he didn't knock. Despite your profession, you valued privacy.
"Val-" You began, he cut you off.
"I don't believe I was asking." a smirk decorated his sly features.
"Respectfully, sir. It's not within my contract to appear as I truly am."
This shit again. Val was always on your ass about this. He always wanted more. Usually after a few minutes of arguing, he'd give up. There was nothing else he could do, so you don't think much of it. You pull out a cigarette, flicking the lighter, the small white stick begins to blaze.
You blow a cloud of hot red smoke in his direction. He rolls his eyes gritting his teeth in frustration. He takes a deep breath, sordid displays of force didn't work the best on you. You'd be frightened, but your stance would rarely change. Not unless he got physically violent, and quite honestly he was not in the mood today. You were not the most important thing to deal with. Its not that he didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to waste his time. He tries a lighter, more manipulative approach.
"Think of how much success your beautiful little face would bring us. Sinners and Hell born alike already get off to your body, its just revealing a little bit more"
"No, I won't do it" your voice is small but resolute. He didn't have the patience for this. As soon as the word "no" left your lips Val had begun to lose it. "Wasting time" became a lot less important. Members of the Ars Goetia family would be present in tonight's audience. You had to look your best, so he could look his best.
"You are going to out there without that fucking mask and give all of hell a good show. You won't like what happens if you don't listen." He growled through gritted teeth
"Its breaking the contract. Val" You take another lazy puff from your cigarette. He ripped the cigarette from your hand, throwing it on the ground. He was done with your shit.
"I own you. Did you forget that, I own your body and your voice. you speak only when i want you to. You fuck who I choose. The only thing you technically have a right to is your name, isn't that right my little siren?"
His voice is sleazy to say the least, the tone makes you shudder. You couldn't help but think,
...was he right? you had asked to be anonymous, you never thought to specify how. He continued before you had a real chance to observe your thoughts. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, snakelike and seductive. He was getting tired of this, tired of you.
"the mask is getting old, hell will get tired of you if you don't give them more. you won't like what happens if they deem you all washed up.."
You attempt to move away, His grasp on your arm grows tighter. You flinch slightly from the pain, but not enough for him to notice. He wants to elicit a reaction in you, perhaps if you stay calm he'll give up.
"I have some very specific clientele coming to tonights show I need you to wow them"
You could hardly believe the audacity. Sure, Valentino was always kind of a prick but this complete and total discount of your previously agreed terms was relatively new. He had suggested removing the mask before and brought it up countless times, but this level of disregard was new. Screw being calm you weren't about to be this fundamentally disrespected.
"No I won't do tha- " his hand waves cutting you off. your voice caught in your throat the sigil on your hand marking his ownership glowing a dull faded pink.
"I can do whatever I please. I've let you forget that, I've been going too easy on you. Rereading our little contract brought me the enlightenment I needed. Those who bite don't get to speak" he pauses moving away from you taking in your figure.
"it looks like you'll just be dancing tonight, and what a wonderful performance that is going to be."
The click of his shoes taps against the stark white tile as he walks towards the clothing rack in the edge of the room. He hums, picking out a dark red burlesque outfit. He exchanges it for the mask from the table and breaks it in his hand.
"I think a more revealing number will compensate more than enough for your silence..don't you?"
Your last defense had been shattered. The last ounce of your personage robbed for the sake of pleasing some sleazy unsavory high end customer. You tried to speak but the words stayed nestled inside of you. You wanted to scream or talk honestly you'd take a whisper at this point, still, nothing. The anger in your heart welled its way up into your throat and without an outlet, your frustration took root in your tears."Great" you thought, "just what i needed to look respectable, yet another crying fit."
He grabs you by your shoulders, it had never registered how small you were in comparison. You knew he was tall, but in ten years, you'd never noticed how much taller he was. Usually the moth hunched over in some way to communicate better as his eyesight is less than superior...Yet here he stood a good three or four feet taller than you, anger almost visibly steaming off of his purple fur. two of his hands grasped firmly on your newly bruised shoulder, the other on your neck, and the last raised and ready to strike you. Closing your eyes you accept your fate. the contact comes and as soon as it does you are sprawled on the floor. Unable to move, unable to run. You had never been strong enough to fight. After all you were still the same person you were in 1936 and long after that. Your nose gushes blood, splattering droplets onto the tile as he abruptly jerks you up from the floor.
"maldita cabrona! quién se cree que es?"
he tuts clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It sounds oddly like the loading of a gun. Every aspect of his body was drenched this newly violent attitude. His moth like horns lined with anticipation, twitching with every rigid breath.
Valentino had gotten rough with you before but not like this. This time, it felt more real. He leans in closer, his face directly in front of your own. From another angle perhaps the pose looked sweet,loving even. The thought made you sick.His arm rested against your shoulder, just forceful enough to cause you pain but not so harsh to send you tumbling to the ground again. The sharp talons tipping his long fingers traced the edge of your face, deep red blood madly racing after it. He would have killed you then in there if you weren't such a "valuable asset".
"Next time you'll learn to listen, I've killed fuckers for less than this shit you're giving me. If I don't have the patience with angeldust I certainly won't have it with you, even if you're named hell's favourite pequeña pecadora." He pauses glaring deep into your eyes
"I made you y/n, i can take that away and kill you myself whenever i please. try not to forget that again"
His inflection is wickedly sweet, but not sugary enough to hide his true malice.
He grunts in frustration, throwing you against the dressing room table, the back of your head shatters the mirror. An all too familiar feeling. He laughs viewing the position he's put you in, it is a dry, heartless, and dirty sound. The silence after is chilling. You close your eyes bracing for another impact that just doesn't come. He must have gotten bored with you, he usually did after a while. The door finally slams, the lights of the dressing room flicker and then click off. You slide down onto the floor, all you are left with is the small pool of blood and regret.
The performance that night felt like an eternity. Your skin practically peeling off as lustful eyes burned holes through your skin. You had drank a few more than too many cocktails. It wasn't nice to refuse a gift, and it kept you a little less than fully conscious. stumbling through the hallway you arrived once again at your dressing room. you sat down hopelessly viewing the dark purple bruises formed from your previous alteration through the shattered remnants of your mirror. So much for not "damaging the merchandise" as Val would so often say.A soft knock rattles you from your thoughts. the door creaks open and Angel Dust slides in. You silently look at each other's exhausted frame and scratched faces. Angel was the closest thing you had ever had to a friend, and just about the only person who could ever understand what you're going through. After all, your experience was modeled after his.
"Whats wrong y/n? cat got your tongue?"
Despite his exhaustion he kept up his usual performance. You didn't respond, you couldn't. The tears so expertly rimmed in your eyes threaten to fall. His expression falters and he walks up to you hugging you tightly. You didn't need to say or do anything to explain. He knew exactly what you were going through. For just a moment you relax into his arms.
A minute or so passes and you break the contact. You figure a little context wouldn't hurt. You motion to the glowing sigil on your wrist and then to your throat, hoping he understood the signal.
"You can't speak can ya doll?" He asked softly his hand ruffling your hair. You shook your head no.
"God i hate that fucking prick, he can't just play fair. Maybe if he did that sorry fuck wouldn't be making shitty porn and running washed out clubs for a living". He angrily paces around the room. As he speaks you grab an eyeliner pen and the back of some flier someone left taped to your door. It seemed like the easiest way to communicate. You messily scrawl the words
"Can I stay with you I promise its just for one night"
He takes the page from you a smile taking root.
"damn toots what happened to not mixing personal and professional life?" he joked. You sat there motionless, tears threatening to spill. He takes the hint and grabs a coat off of the rack wrapping it around your shoulders.
"I thought you'd never ask-I've been dying to hang out outside this shit hole. Let's head out, Its gonna rain soon and these boots are too hot to be messing with that acid bullshit"
He posed albeit dramatically earning a smile from you. He tilts his head towards the door and the two of you leave the messy dressing room behind. It was one of the few things you didn't have to worry about. After all, Valentino values appearances, any mess you had made would be gone in the morning. In one way or another, you could fuck up any way and make any mess, and Val would have it cleaned up. The only messes he wouldn't fix were the ones he made himself. The cuts on your body always lasted longer than your reflection in a broken mirror. Unlike you the mirror could be fixed.
Not long after you arrive at this so called "Hazbin Hotel"..you didn't have much to say other than it...seemed fitting. You walk up a few flights of carpeted stairs. His hand calmly connected to yours. He continues down the long winding hallway before reaching a large wooden door at the end. He unlocks the room, and it is exactly what you'd imagine it to be. An embodiment of everything "angel dust".
A few hours and a pack of cigarettes later, the rain starts. The acid falls from the sky burning sinners and generally..most everything in its path. The sizzle on the sidewalk almost sounds like the crackle of a record player. Leaning further back into his bed, you pull out yet another cigarette. Your hand waves, gesturing towards the box and Angel takes the last of the pack. He lights the end of yours first and then clicks the lighter again in an attempt to get his own fix. However the lighter had other plans, it pops and ticks before sputtering out completely. He strikes it a few more times to no avail
"Shit what does a guy gotta do to get a decent lighter in this shit hole"
His arms raised above his head in some odd exaggerated performance of anger. Despite the lack of necessity, you found the fake drama to be amusing. It reminded you of Alastor in some strange way. It was different than the usual drama you found yourself viewing. Hell is full of overdramatic assholes, at least Angel isn't.. cruel. You take the first hit of your newly lit cigarette. The pink smoke fizzling into your lungs, giving you a sense of calm you cant really find anywhere else.
"What you aren't gonna share?" he deadpans before he presses the edge of his previously unlit cigarette to yours.
You look at him as if to say "Angel you dumb bitch that never actually works you're just going to put mine out and then we'll both be miserable"
He rolls his eyes with his signature smug look. He presses his cigarette a bit closer to your own. Shockingly it lit up in a hot pink flame.
"Working with Val sucks but at least you learn a few useful things",
He deeply inhaled from his own newly lit cigarette, puffing the strawberry coloured smoke into your very clearly unamused face. Still. you couldn't help but laugh.. or you tried to anyway, not that it would have worked. You took another long delightful drag and sent the smoke his way. A fit of giggles ensued, at least on his part. You were just happy it worked and he didn't end up pissed off.
The action made you wonder, what if you weren't just meant to hurt others. perhaps you could light them up instead of burning them down. You sat there for about another hour, listening to Angel's sleep deprived rambles. It wasn't too much long after that your own exhaustion finally carried you safely into a well deserved slumber. It was peaceful, the most restful night you'd had since your fall into this desolate shit pit known as hell..For once you didn't "dream." You weren't haunted with his face. His shadow didn't suffocate you. The ghost of your past stayed simply that, a ghost.
The night passes swiftly. Almost as quickly as the stars had appeared they retreated deep into the hazy maroon sky and bright carmine clouds. The rain had stopped, somehow the damages caused weren't entirely discernible from the average look of things. It was then you heard radio static again.
Familiar and soothing, his gravelled voice broadcast to the denizens of hell.
"Good morning to all of you lovely listeners ! Today's broadcast is brought to you by hell's favourite sinner, what isn't to love about that little starlet. Tune on in dearest, I've been hearing so much about you."
the music started softly carried by the wind and into your ears. You felt intoxicated.
We'll meet again
Dont know where, dont know when
but I know we'll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through, just like you always do
til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away
It was irrevocably, unmistakably unquestionably him.
Alastor, your Alastor.. was in hell. Not to mention an overlord (shocker there). Despite that fact, you were evidently on his mind. He was speaking to you and only you. There was nothing you could do to respond.
So you listened, to his voice, the instrumentation, the melody, everything. Maybe it would somehow bring you closer to him...
Unbeknownst to the both of you, you were no more than a few rooms apart, enjoying your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.
a/n: I SWEAR I PROMISE YOU, ANGEL, AND ALASTOR ARE GONNA WRECK THAT LITTLE FUCKERS SHIT, dw
501 notes · View notes
heizouz · 1 year ago
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nsfw sub!kaeya + gn!reader, reader is rlly horny, kaeya is a good boy
you didn't know how you'd controlled yourself when kaeya stepped out in that outfit.
it fit him so well. your pretty boy dressed in gorgeous hanging material and pretty jewels. his hair braided and sitting pretty on his shoulder and the colours of his clothes complimenting his flawless dark skin.
you could tell he felt confident in it too. kaeya's smirk pulling at his lips when everyone handed out compliments, turning every so often to show off different parts of the outfit.
you couldn't wait to get your hands on him.
so, you hadn't even given him a second before you'd shoved him into a room round the back, unbuttoning his pants and dropping to your knees.
kaeya huffs a laugh as you pull the material down, "i guess you- ah- i guess you like it then?"
"shut up." you mumble, taking his cock into your hands as soon as you free it, stroking your hand along the length of it as he gasps. you grin a little, kissing along his cock at how pliantly he lets you take control. you spend no time getting to work, wrapping your lips around him and the whine he lets out is gorgeous.
the jewels of his outfit jingle slightly as kaeya shifts at the warm heat of your mouth, trying to find a way for you to take him deeper. you send him a small glare, hands going to run up his chest, feeling over the material of his outfit.
"look at you." you gasp after you pull off him, making a show of pressing your lips to the underside of his cock. you hum, "so pretty, just for me."
"al-mh-all for you." kaeya agrees, head falling back but his eyes never leaving you and you don't miss the way he straightens himself up slightly to show off his outfit a bit more at the praise.
he pants, low moan dropping from his lips and he reaches to lay a hand on the back of your head to guide you on his cock once you take him whole again. but you scrunch your brows, swatting his hand away and you press his hips hard against the makeup desk. kaeya gasps, eyes wide as he stares down at you, fingers gripping the edge of the desk to stop himself from reaching out again. his chest his heaving and when you glance up at him, he's staring, eyes threatening to blink closed and his eyebrows are furrowed, pretty lips caught between his teeth.
you gently hum around his cock, hands holding his hips down and your eyes never leave his pretty face as you needily take him further. you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, listening to him whine when you grin and kiss the tip, hand leaving his hip to stroke his length.
you reach out to smooth your thumbs over his soft hands when they grip the desk tightly, taking him back into your mouth and he resists the urge to buck his hips. kaeya lets out a pretty moan, head falling back and you soften, smiling as you look up at him. his braid is messy, blue hair slightly falling out of it and the half fur coat has fallen off his shoulder and onto the desk. kaeya gasps, whimpers, when you gently suck the head of his cock before pulling off completely again.
"good boy, kaeya." you coo as you tease him by dragging your fingers faintly along his cock and kaeya pants, eyes opening to give you a desperate look.
he looks so pretty like this. all dressed up in his new outfit. all fucked out from just your mouth and hand. pretty needy baby's eyebrows furrowed in desperation and lips parted in breathless whimpers.
you can tell from the way his breathing quickens when you stroke your hand over him that he's close just from your constant teasing.
"you're so needy today." your voice is amused, dripping with affection. you part your lips in a quiet gasp at the way kaeya whines pathetically when you tease the head of his cock with your thumb, "that's it, baby. you gonna cum for me?"
kaeya does nothing but nod, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking into your hand.
"hm, but we can't have you ruining your pretty outfit now, can we?" your tone is lilting with the urge to tease him all night, especially when the man's eyebrows scrunch prettily and he glances down at you with glistening needy eyes.
"please.." is all he says, thighs shaking when you press gentle kisses along the beautiful dark skin. you look up at him, grin teasing and light and he's being such a good boy; listening to you and letting you do what you want.
"you can cum, pretty thing." you muse before needily wrapping your lips around him. kaeya keens, thrusting involuntarily into your mouth but you let him, allowing him to chase the heat he needs. he doesn't last long, so pent up from getting pretty for you and putting up with your relentless teasing and he cums with your mouth around him.
humming, you swallow around him, listening to the pitchy whine he lets out with his hips still bucking gently. you let him ride it out, smoothing your hands over his hips and gently rubbing circles with your thumbs.
kaeya stills, panting breathlessly, thighs still slightly shaking and you slowly pull off his cock with a small gasp. you giggle at the way he's trying so hard to catch his breath, hands tugging at the sleeves of his outfit for something to grab.
however, you just can't help yourself. you feel almost as needy as he does, watching him with dark eyes as you admire his outfit again and again.
"fuck, baby," you groan, hand going to tease his cock and he jolts gently, "you're too pretty not to ruin."
it's so messy. you give up on trying to keep it clean as you wrap your lips around his cock again despite how he just came. he sounds too pretty when you run your tongue along his cock just to pull off and stroke him with your hand.
he's so wet and you giggle as kaeya whines, slightly bucking into your hand. you get to your feet, hand still working on his cock and your other leans against the edge of the desk. you're so close, chest pressed against his and he does nothing but whimper.
"not a single thought in that pretty dumb head of yours," you hum when he doesn't respond, gently grabbing his jaw to look at you, "is there?"
kaeya's eyes flutter, falling into a needy lidded stare, small gasps leaving his lips and you just smile, tilting your head with a slight eyebrow raise because he's too far gone to reply.
you coo, leaning close enough for him to almost kiss you and then you rest your chin on his shoulder, looking down his body to watch yourself work your hand along his pretty cock.
"you're taking it so well, kaeya," your other hand plays with the accents of his outfit, "such a good boy for me."
the blue haired pants, eyes glued to the way your hand messily strokes him, obviously hoping to coax another orgasm out of him. he's flushed from how wet it sounds, from the praise rushing to his core, from how close you are to him. he's overwhelmed, mind dumb and empty because he feels so good.
kaeya whimpers into your ear, letting out a small "please" even though he has no idea what he's begging for.
you just nod your head with an affectionate smile, turning to press a kiss to his gasping lips, "i know, baby," your hand trails down his arm, locking your fingers together as he moans against your lips, "let go for me. i want to watch you make a mess."
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suugarbabe · 10 months ago
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La lectora f!reader una chica con una personalidad muy atrevida y extrovertida, mientras que Lorenzo es todo lo contrario. No puede estar sin sonrojarse ante los comentarios que le hace el lector. Al lector le gusta follárselo, haciéndolo suplicar, llorar y gritar hasta que Lorenzo le dice que no puede más y que necesita correrse.
okay so i had to google translate this request but i think i got the gist of it I'm including the translation i'm working off of so hopefully this is what you were wanting!
prompt: The f!reader reader is a girl with a very daring and outgoing personality, while Lorenzo is the complete opposite. He cannot be without blushing at the comments that the reader makes to him. The reader likes to fuck him, making him beg, cry and scream until Lorenzo tells her that he can't take it anymore and that he needs to cum.
"Looking fit today, Berkshire," you can't help but pinch his cute little bum as you walk past him in the hall. The action causes a small yelp to leave his lips while the comment creates a flash of scarlet across his nose and over his cheeks, the freckles that dust over his nose more accentuated.
You loved making him blush. It was one of your favorite things to do, amongst other things. So on your way to lunch you decided you were going to do it again. Sitting down with the others you joined in the middle of a conversation. "You going to the party tonight, Princess?" You looked up from your plate to find Mattheo smiling uncharacteristically sweet at you.
"Of course, Riddle. You know I never miss a party, especially one we're throwing." Mattheo turned his stare to the boy next to you, "See, Berkshire, she's going. Now why won't you go?" You turned your body side ways on the bench, placing your hands on the wood in front of you. You knew this position accentuated your breasts and you put on your best puppy dog eyes and full pout.
You looked up at Enzo, who was trying desperately to avoid your gaze. "Enzie, are you not coming tonight?" Enzo gulped, words stuttering from his lips, "D-dunno. Not sure if I'm f-feeling a party tonight." You scooted closer, placing a hand dangerously high on his thigh closest to you. You leaned up slightly, whispering in his ear so only he could hear. "Would be a real shame if you didn't. I bought the sluttiest little dress, just for you," you drew circles with your thumb, his hard on increasingly growing and becoming more evident.
This time his blush made it to the tips of his ears, his eyes nearly bulging out of his face. You knew the effect you had on him, and his friends knew it too. That reaction alone let them know they had gotten what they'd wanted.
As shy as Enzo appeared at all your little comments, he actually relished in them. He knew the more you came at him during the day, the better it would be for him at night. So he welcomed your crude comments throughout the day, never let you leave his sight during the party. You weren't lying when you said the dress was slutty. A slinky black number that he was convinced had to be keeping you covered purely by magic alone.
When you finally grabbed his wrist and began dragging him upstairs it was all the strength he could muster not to fall to his knees and whimper on the spot. But his legs seem to be able to keep following you, one foot in front of the other until he's in your room, and you've locked the door.
And now his hands were tied to your bed posts and there's tears running down his cheeks as he begs, "P-please, Angel, fuck, can't....can't hold it any longer, need to." A slew of incoherent babble leaves his lips as you sink down on his cock once more, fully sheathing him inside you. You grind on his cock, catching your clit on his pubic bone just right and moan out in pleasure before locking eyes with him.
"What do you need to do, baby?" Your hand is placed gently on his cheek, thumb swiping at his tears before sticking it in your mouth. You make a lewd scene of your tongue swirling around the digit and his hips buck up into you cause a groan to leave you both before your head snaps back down and you tighten your grip on his face. Enzo is immediately apologizing, "M'sorry, sorry Angel, just hurts so bad. Please, please let me cum. Wanna fill you up, wanna make you feel so good, so full."
If you weren't so close to the edge yourself you'd have made him hold out longer, but he knew you as well as you knew him and he was right. You started bucking your hips, grinding down on him. You leaned down close, licking a sloppy stripe up the side of his neck before whispering in his ear, "Go on baby, make me feel good, want you to come so deep inside it's dripping out of me for days." You flick your wrists, the restraints on Enzo disappearing instantly.
"Fucking hell," with the green light his grip is on your hips fast and hard. Fingers digging into the flesh as he ruts his hips upwards, fucking up into your cunt from underneath you. You grip his shoulders for stability, your head thrown back at the sudden change of pace and pleasure. You can feel his cock twitch deep within your walls. Your nails dig into his shoulders and that's the final push before his hips stutter, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he spills inside you. You're not far behind him, cunt clenching and milking him for all he's got as you're seeing stars, his name falling from your lips.
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zelcii · 2 months ago
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peter hayes x former amity????? love your writing btw!!
too | peter hayes
you kept your distance because you knew you couldn't have him.
peter hayes. a name that dripped with trouble and cruelty, someone most people either feared or hated, and yet, your heart continued to betray you. you were born in amity, raised to be peaceful, taught to love without complication, and customed to avoid conflict. yet here you were, falling for a boy who represented against everything you were taught to avoid.
it was irrational. stupid, even. you told yourself that every day. this is wrong. he's wrong for you. but there was something about the way he moved, how he spoke so confidently, and maybe the shade of his hair that drew you in. you hated that about yourself. it was like watching a storm from the safety of your home—dangerous and destructive, yet oddly mesmerising. you thought it was ridiculous how some aesthetic attraction you had for a boy could lead you to question everything you were brought up on.
"you're being an idiot, you know," christina had said once, not unkindly, but blunt as always. you were sitting in the cafeteria with her and tris, the two of them chatting about training, gossip, the usual. you, of course, had been caught staring at peter again from across the room. you couldn't help it; even when you tried. your eyes always found him without effort.
tris nudged you lightly, her small smile sympathetic but cautious. "yeah, she's right. you should just... let it go. it's peter. he's not worth it."
and you knew that. logically, they were right. peter wasn't the kind of guy you should want. but you believed that logic never had anything to do with the heart. logic didn't stop your heart from racing every time he glanced your way, or your stomach from fluttering when his lips quirked into that sly grin of his.
regardless, you listened to them—tris and christina. you kept your distance and kept quiet. but while your mind understood that peter hayes was off-limits, it didn't stop your heart from dreaming about all the ways you could have had him.
choosing dauntless had come with its own set of challenges. other than peter hayes. your kindness, your softness, wasn't something people there valued. dauntless celebrated strength, ferocity, and bravery. and sure, you had learned how to fight, how to defend yourself, but your core remained the same. soft. caring.
people noticed, of course. it wasn't hard to ignore the way you'd check up on others after a particualrly rough sparring session, or the way you'd always seem to hold back any time you had to fight anyone competitively.
you rarely fought back during petty arguments, never raised your voice. you didn't fit in the way you were supposed to, but that didn't mean you weren't respected. people admired you quietly, in their own way. you knew it wasn't loud praise or direct acknowledgment, but you caught the way some of the others softened when they spoke to you, or how they didn't mind standing by your side during sessions. many must have thought you were too gentle for dauntless, but that gentleness had earned you a quiet kind of respect.
peter was one of those people. or at least, you thought he was. it was hard to tell with him. he never outright said anything to you—never mocked you like he did with others. but then again, he never talked to you in general. more than anything, he avoided you. it was subtle, the way he slipped out of rooms when you entered or how he always seemed to position himself at the far end of the group. he wasn't cruel to you the way he was to others, but he wasn't kind either.
however, it hurt the most when you overheard al saying that peter was always adamant about changing the subject whenever you were brought up.
you hadn't meant to eavesdrop. it wasn't something you normally did, but you were passing by the dormitory when you heard al's voice, low and serious, drifting from the open door. you paused, half-hidden behind the wall, just out of sight, when you caught your name.
"yeah, i don't get it," al was saying, sounding confused. "every time we talk about her, peter shuts it down. like, he doesn't want to hear it. gets all weird about it, like he doesn't care or something."
your stomach twisted, a sharp ache settling in your chest. you pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady your breath. he didn't care. you had suspected it before, of course, but hearing it confirmed like this—so casual, like it was just a known fact—hurt more than you wanted to admit.
you figured it was because he saw you as a non—threat. someone too soft, too insignificant to bother with. and maybe that was for the best. keeping your distance meant you could admire him from afar without getting hurt.
"he's staring at you again," christina muttered one day, her voice low as she leaned across the table, her eyes flicking over to where peter sat with a group of initiates. you were about to protest, thinking you misheard her and that she meant that you were staring again. but you hadn't been looking his way this time—not intentionally—but the moment she said it. you felt the familiar pull in your chest. a stupid, traitorous part of you wanted to glance back, to see if it was true. that he was looking at you.
but you didn't. you kept your eyes fixed on your plate, stabbing at the food in front of you like it was suddenly very interesting. "he's probably just plotting something," you said, trying to keep your tone light, dismissive.
"yeah, well, if he is, it must be takin' him quite some time," christina laughed. she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, a curious glint in her eyes. "he's been doing that a lot lately."
tris, ever observant, raised an eyebrow. "you noticed that too?"
your heart skipped a beat.
"it's probably nothing," you mumbled, a little too quickly. "peter doesn't care about me. he barely even looks at me."
"uh-huh," christina smirked, clearly not buying it. "sure. keep telling yourself that."
you didn't reply. what could you even say? you knew for a fact that peter didn't like you. he couldn't. not with the way he acted, the way he seemed to avoid being near you. if anything, he was probably just irritated by your presence. you were an anomaly to him, someone who didn't fit neatly into the world he created for himself. an annoyance that he couldn't get rid of.
still, a small, foolish part of you couldn't help but wonder what if. what if peter wasn't avoiding you because he disliked you? what if it was something else entirely?
days passed, and you continued to keep your distance. it wasn't hard. peter made sure of that. he rarely spoke to you, and when he did, it was curt, to the point. he never lingered, never allowed for more than necessary. but there was something strange in the way his eyes flicked toward you when he thought you weren't looking, how he stiffened slightly when your shoulders brushed by accident during training, how his eyes would dart between yours and your lips when you spoke.
you told yourself it didn't matter. even if there was something more behind his actions, it wasn't your place to find out. not when you knew how dangerous he could be, not just to others, but to yourself. because the truth was, if you let him in, he had the potential to destroy you in ways you couldn't even fathom.
and then, one night, everything changed.
you were in the training room late, the others having already left for the night. it was quiet, the dim lighting casting shadows across the floor. you liked the solitude, the peace that came from being alone in a place that was usually full of noise and chaos. it reminded you of your old home, of the calmness that amity had offered. dauntless was far from it.
you didn't expect anyone else to be there. least of all peter.
you had just finished practicing a round of punches against the bag when you heard the door creak open. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as you turned. there he was, standing in the doorway, his dark eyes locking onto yours the moment he stepped inside.
your heart thudded painfully in your chest. "peter," you breathed, the sound of his name foreign and shaky on your tongue. you hadn't been alone with him in... you couldn't even remember how long. and now, with no one else around, the tension in the air felt suffocating.
he didn't say anything at first, just stared at you, his expression unreadable, almost debating. then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.
"why are you here?"
his tone wasn't accusatory, but it wasn't friendly either. you wiped the sweat from your brow, trying to keep your voice steady. "just... practising. why are you here?"
he shrugged, his gaze flicking away from you for a brief moment before settling back. "same."
there was an awkward silence that followed. you didn't know what to do, didn't know how to handle being alone with him. you had always been so careful, so diligent about avoiding moments like this. but now, with no one else around, you could feel every suppressed feeling bubbling up inside you.
and then, out of nowhere, peter's voice cut through the quiet.
"why do you look at me like that?"
you blinked, caught off guard by the question. "what?"
"don't play dumb," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "you think i don't notice? every time. you look at me like..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening, like he was angry at himself for even bringing it up.
your stomach dropped. you had tried so hard to be subtle, to hide it. but of course, peter had noticed. he noticed everything. "i don't—" you began to deny it, but the words felt hollow, false.
peter took a step closer, his voice low, as if he were sharing a secret meant only for you. "i didn't want to love you, you know." his eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering, holding you in place.
"isn't that what this is about?" he asked, his tone sharper now, frustration creeping in. "if you don't like me, you don't have to be all amity about it."
the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet, his words crackling in the air like electricity. your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding as your mind raced to catch up. love? you could barely process anything beyond that.
"w-what?" you stammered, feeling foolish for not hearing anything else he'd said. the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly, your pulse quickening as his closeness made everything else fade away. nothing seemed real except for him—standing just inches from you, his words still echoing in your ears.
he ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, like he was fighting some internal battle he couldn't win. his jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just turn and leave. but instead, he continued, his voice rougher, more raw. "it's not like i wanted to like you," he said, his words stumbling out like he'd been holding them back for too long. "but then you smiled at me. and—holy shit, i blew it."
you blinked, trying to take in what he was saying, but before you could respond, he barreled on, clearly on edge. "and now you look at me like you hate me. i mean, why wouldn't you? everyone else does. i've been a total asshole, but at least they've got the guts to show it. but you—you're too... too nice to show it." his voice softened for a moment, the vulnerability in his eyes surprising you. "so, now you're just pretending to be nice, pretending to not hate me by staying away from me. but i need you to know, i didn't want this. i didn't want to like you, but now—"
he broke off, frustration radiating off him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "now i can't stop thinking about you, and it's driving me crazy." he really didn't want you to hate him.
you stood there, your heart swelling at the sight of him—peter hayes, always so tough and unfeeling—so undone in front of you. he thought you hated him? the idea almost made you laugh, but instead, a warmth spread through you, something gentle and tender.
without thinking, you let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising even you. his eyes snapped to yours, confusion flashing across his face. "what? what's so funny?"
"you," you said softly, stepping closer, your fingers hesitantly reaching up to cup his face, the warmth of his skin against your palms making your heart race. his breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his defensive walls—he was flustered.
his eyes widened, his tough demeanor faltering as he stood frozen under your touch. instinctively, he brought his hands to your hips, shy and uncertain.
you smiled, feeling more at ease now, more sure of yourself. "i love you too, hayes," you whispered, keeping him close, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks and you couldn't help but admire the way his eyes smile before his lips.
for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased, his lips parting slightly as he exhaled a shaky breath.
"you do?" he asked, his voice almost vulnerable, the usual bite gone.
and just like that, the walls he'd built so high around himself crumbled.
you nodded, your voice soft. "i do."
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kitkatscabinet · 2 years ago
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I NEED more of the aegon x older sister AU!
Like what if Otto tried to send reader on a betrothal tour like Rhaenyra did? Or what if at a Tourney another knight asked for readers favor? Otto would be doing everything he possibly can to contain Aegon lol
Would Aegon still become the type of person he was in the show/books? Or would he try and become the best version of himself to impress reader?
What if, to try and separate Aegon and reader, Viserys sent reader to live with Daemon in Essos? Or sent to ward somewhere else? I bet once Aemond had Vhagar Otto would try to use him to keep Aegon from flying to reader.
This somehow took a wholesome turn???
The beautiful unwed Targaryen princess??? you best believe noblemen and knights alike are lining up and down the block just to get a glimpse. Yours is always the first favour to be asked for. I'd imagine there would be people willing to move down in the lists for the opportunity to get to you first.
Aegon goes fucking feral every single time and it's getting harder and harder to keep him on a leash. He is practically sitting on top of you at this point. No matter how hard Otto or Viserys try Aegon will never accept any seat other than the one next to yours. Fingers entwined with yours, head resting on your shoulder- breathing in the oils you'd been bathed in.
He has no shame, the moment you sit back down after offering a favour or even speaking to another man he's either pulling you back down into his lap, or leaning in to place kisses against your face, neck, hands anything he can reach. All the while glaring murder at whoever had the audacity to even look at you.
Gods forbid Otto ships you off to be a ward somewhere or even worse on a tour like Rhaenyra's. He's been plied up with wine so he doesn't notice your departure until you have long since been shipped off.
It's a miracle that King's Landing doesn't burn that day.
Aegon's screams echo through the keep and anything that he can get his hands on is destroyed. rip Otto's belongings.
In the dragon pit Sunfyre is having his own fit. He eats three people and burns a lot more and for once your dragon isn't interested in stopping him.
The second he figures out where you are he is making a break for the dragon pit and it takes a surprising amount of the King's guard to prevent it. He has to be locked in his own chambers which amounts to days of screaming and a completely trashed room.
Luckily Aemond is all too happy to offer his assistance. He’s grown up seeing how you are with Aegon and even to a lesser extent him and Helaena and he thinks it normal. So he’s also quite upset big sis got sent away.
The arrival of Vhagar at whatever poor Lord's keep you've found yourself in is enough to deter many of the more cowardly lords. Aemond is also smart enough to play up his time with you and is content to sit in your lap like a baby instead of the 13-year-old he is.
Being the dutiful princess you are, you finish the tour. Though it quickly becomes more of a strained formality as Aemond has become your personal glaring necklace and Vhagar looms threateningly.
As for the kind of person Aegon is. You would never allow your beloved baby brother to fall into the pit he has in the show. You keep him away from wine and ale, he is not even allowed to drink a few glasses until he is past 16.
He has no desire to indulge in whores, that just means more time spent away from you after all. But I do imagine him getting frustrated/wanting to know how to bets please you and as such will pay a few visits to the streets of silk. He'll never finish inside any of them though. You are the only person that will ever bear his children.
With your constant stream of adoration and reassurance he is nowhere near as bad mentally as he is in the books/show.
You are just as scary as Aegon and the first time you catch Alicent yelling or laying hands on him he is still young and after you threaten grievous harm to her person she will never do such again.
You also aren't above whispering into your father's ears. Turning him and your younger siblings against Alicent and Otto. It takes you a while but you get Otto sacked and by some miracle you get Corlys to replace him.
Your close relationship with your younger siblings has given Rhaenyra a lot of forced exposure to them too. And though she is concerned about Aegon's possessiveness she understands how he feels.
She comes to adore Helaena and Jace being the sweet boy he is does too. so that's two pairs of children enamoured with each other and I think this is when Alicent starts to break free from Otto's brainwashing.
Everyone always hcs Aemond and Daemon as becoming close in these kinds of aus but I'm gonna say it. Aemond and Rhaenyra are a top tier pair. He loves his mother, but her love has still always been somewhat conditional and now he has this mother figure that simply loves him for being him and he can't get enough of it.
Rhaenyra and Alicent reconnect thanks to your machinations and now Aemond's like sweet, two mums!
But now there's just this whole clan of overly freakish possessive Targaryen's that you have accidentally allowed to reign free. Daemon comes back and is pissed, this is kind of all he's ever wanted and his family has just done it without him???
don't usually tag on these kinds of posts but cause this is so long:
@etherily @psychwardsiren @mihrimahsultan03 @bbyaemond @krispold @hyperfixated-freak @eudximoniakr @deadstarkblacksoul @thelittleswanao3
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velvet-paradox · 2 months ago
Text
Stay (ch. 5)
Feelings - Kruger is a real friend - Confessions in the night -The hurt Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, angst, there's some smut in here folks!
This was a mistake.
A misunderstanding, surely you cannot be thinking fondly of the man, The Collector, who took you so many months ago now. Away from your family, your parents, your friends, your village. Many a night you cried over and over, with nothing to do about your situation.
No escape plan.
The last capture for ransom had been slain, her aid, one of KorTac's own, fucking blood eagled. You did not desire the same fate, although you played along and kept your mouth shut, eyes alert and aware of your current and now future surroundings, sometimes you prayed to the Gods for that same fate.
Death would be better than suffering at the hands of The Collector and his clan.
But then…
You missed him. You truly missed his presence. You shouldn't, you wish you didn't, you pray to the Gods to give you the strength needed to get rid of these feelings.
Maybe it's because you haven't been touched, haven't hugged or embraced anyone. Been held on to, been loved. You're lonely, afraid and scared and need to be told 'it is going to be alright', you wait for the moment to come but it never does.
This home, this new home wasn't yours, but it somehow was wrapping you up in its' veins.
Eating in the hall, though full of song and drink, perfectly cooked meat and veg, you feel alone. That no one sees you there. You're a ghost, a figment until The Collector brings you meaning once again. No one bats an eye that you now sit, with your pillow, in his seat. That you drink ale from his horn. That you are slipping into place.
The singers give you a nod as you dine, Keeva's middle daughter, Tove, sits next to you, telling you how annoying her brothers are, how she longs for the twins to learn to speak to her. She looks just like her mother.
You can hear Price's laugh over the music, he's already had three horns worth and is jovial. Soap hands you a roll in passing. You're fitting in. Your smile is humorless as you wish you're parents were with you, here in this great hall, together again as it should be.
"Don't cry, pet. 's only a roll."
You hadn't realized you were tearing up. Wiping it away with the back of your knuckles before smiling at her plump cheeks. You opened your mouth but was stopped short when the double doors of the great hall were being pushed shut, the music halted, the dancing stopped and all was still.
Until you saw The Collector's figure, Ghost and Kruger behind him. Along with someone new, you couldn't make out anything as there was a bag over their head.
Blood on their hands, filth on their attire. You stood instantly, watching as if they were mist come into the hall, everyone burst into cheers and whoops and calls for more celebration.
And even though you could not make out König's eyes, you knew they were upon you, sat at the head of the table.
The air shifts and you feel guilt bite into your neck, slither up your spine. The way König makes you feel, weak and powerless; puny.
You thought he'd be cross with you, pissed that you had the audacity, without his knowledge and permission, to be taking his seat in the great hall. You thought he might even punish you. Hurt you.
But what he did was something else entirely.
He'd gotten cleaned up after all the praise for another well earned hunt. KorTac would have more than enough food to last the entire winter months, along with a few extra boars and two seals on this side of the river from Horangi's clan.
You laid in your bed, hearing König douse himself with water from a wooden barrel, blubebering away the hunt and getting the dirt and grime out of his hair, off his skin. He reeked of iron and soot, chipped bark and smoke.
"Are you still awake, pet?" König questioned through the open doorway with a pound of his fist on the wall above your head.
"Ja."
"Would you aide me in something?"
You were curious and frightful of what The Collector may need you for. And as you peeked into the room, you stalled instantly. Not only was König completely naked, he was bruised around his forearms and the back of his calves, most likely from sleeping on the ground for five days at a time. His hood was off. Bare to the world. You'd his scarred chest before but the tight muscles of his back, his shapely hips and rear, the thick bands of his thighs that were surprisingly tattooed with runes stood, out the most. Other than his burnt red hair.
"What um… what do you need?"
König merely turned his head to the side, exposing his incredible profile, the stubble on along his jaw, the lovely shape of his neck.
"Come here and I'll show you."
You swallowed hard and inched your way further into the room, the glow of the burning torches, the shadows it cast over his body were driving you mad.
You can do this. Youcandothisyoucandothis
You could feel the fucking heat radiating off his form, no longer reeking of blood and viscera, just him. The scent you had missed for days. König shifted and his back rolled before he was on you, one large hand grasped you around the neck, forcing you to stumble backward, the fur beneath your feet skidded along with you. Your back hit the wall before your head did and before you realized what was actually happening. His hair hung in his eyes, flickering in the light you squeaked upon seeing his face for the first time. A splatter of freckles across his nose, a pretty nasty but healed cut through his right eyebrow, scratches that have laid the foundation of his skin marked his face. A jagged line of battle along his jaw.
"Enjoying my place, are you? Sitting at the head of the table as if we are already married. Like it belongs to you," König snorted and shook his head, the ends of his hair slotted against his long lashes. "Does it belong to you, pet?"
You shook your head nervously.
"Hmmm would you like it to be?" König asked with a tilt of his head an smirk on his lips.
The Collector was looking over your face, moving his hand up to your jaw, tipping your chin to look at him and his haunting gaze.
"I don't… how do you mean? I've only sat there tonight, I swear! I won't do it agai-"
"That's not what I asked. I asked if you wanted to belong. At the head of the table," with his other hand, he angled himself down closer, your breathing out of control as the predator had his prey, his eyes on yours. "Or maybe I should place you beneath it, back to the floor where you belong."
"I don't want to be on the floor again. Please uh… bitte." Tears prickled your inner corners and for some unspeakable reason, you had never been this wet between your legs.
"Bitte? My you have been learning so well." König praised which made your caged in with a naked giant you were crushing hard on, made things worse. You were thisdamnclose to breaking out in a cold sweat.
"John and Keeva have been most patient."
König's thick eyebrows went up with your answer. "Ah, yes they have. I shall have to send my regards. Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm not I mean… I am looking at you but I don't understand, no one sees your face. So why am I?"
"Precisely. Only I allow that luxury, my men have seen my face after battle, that is all. Now you so you should take it as a high compliment that I'm being so generous with my body, ja?"
You nodded once more, too scared to look away.
"Not even Ada?" The question fell out of your mouth like the coins you had helped collect.
"Ada?! My my you have been a busy hase, ja? Nein, she has never seen my face and what do you know of Ada anyway? Who have you been speaking to?"
"Just hat she's like your play thing I guess."
"My play thing? Nein nein, she is KorTac's play thing, she has sex with whoever she wants, who can pay her handsomely. That's her business. Her appetite is quite vast."
You broke the intense silence and looking at each other when you brought up your hand, satisfied with his answer, it jerked when you touched the hand on your face. König huffed and locked eyes with you.
"You said you needed my help."
König's face twisted into a devious little grin with sharp teeth like the monster he was.
"That I do, something has come over me as of late. This ache I have for you grows with each day, this has never happened to me and it is making me dizzy and tired," his confession had your mouth falling open with each passing word. "It is hard to focus when my heart has become so consumed. And I am certain in this light, that you have only gotten prettier since I have been gone."
You swallowed, trying to keep your breath even before you spoke.
"Took you that long to notice?"
König barked out laughter in your face, a genuine smile and reaction. "Oh woman, how you wound me so! I have missed your wit. Just what I needed. And nein, I realized your beauty the moment I saw you. Pissed off, head full of bravery."
You didn't miss the way he flinched when you licked your dry lips. The was being drained from the room with each passing second.
"I need your touch, pet. I don't want anyone the way I want you. Will you help me?"
….
He walked you over to his work table in the corner of his room, knocking aside tools and weapons, a clay pitcher of water and half eaten, half torn loaf of rosemary bread. He sat you on said table with little to no effort, reminding you of how easily he had picked you up around the middle when he took you.
"Hike up your night dress, my dear, just there is good enough."
You'd averted your eyes for so long that when you did dare look down at his cock your whole body shuddered. The size, the weight, the pre-cum practically drooling from the tip. Larger than any other prick you'd seen nor allowed into your body.
"Cross your legs, just like that. Very obedient you are, my dear." He huffed out.
You didn't understand why you were requested to iclose your legs when you thought he wanted the warm of your cunt. How strange.
But it made sense when he told you, after taking hold of his cock and spitting down on it, that he would not be penetrating you tonight. That would come later.
It felt so peculiar to feel a cock slip between your knees, at an angle he thrust his rock hard length back and forth where your kneecap met the back of your top leg.
The grunt he let out when he found a steady rhythm, rocking his trained hips into your leg, scooching the table on its legs, hitting the wall gently.
"Fuck. Been dreaming about this, seeing your face for real and not using my imagination to conjure up how pretty you are. How soft your hands are, wishing and praying to the Gods that one day I shall relish in the feel of them on my skin."
His hand balled into a fist before punching down on the rocking surface. "I want you."
You couldn't deny it any longer, not with waxing poetic, aiming his cock between your legs, sweating and shaking with desire and passion.
That's what it was!
You had become not only involved with The Collector, intertwined into this new life, with its' new people and language, but you were passionate about it. The helping of others. The give and take so easily and freely you found yourself sliding your hands up his stomach, smiling when he flinched and fixed you with a stare so hot you thought he might just set you alight.
"Let me. Let me touch you. I promise, König, you will not regret it."
This time it was his turn to nod in response, words had since failed him since he'd grabbed your top thigh, grounding him as he fucked the space between. You could feel how slick he was getting. Your smile, wicked as could be, as you began to familiarize yourself with his body. The markings, the tattoos, the scrapes, the freckles above his bely button. How he trembled when you touched a deep gouge to his shoulder, outright sighed with satisfaction when you pressed your lips over it.
"Oh my pet, you have yet to fail me."
"Do you think I will?"
"If you know what is good for you, you will not. Come here."
He continued his thrusts, moaning against your neck, wrapping his arm around your own, anchoring himself to your shoulder, nuzzling your face until you finally turned your head and captured his lips. He licked his way inside right away, which wasn't surprising as he was at his breaking point, whining into your mouth. A sound you never thought had erupted from this mans vocal chords before.
"Oh it's happening, it's finally fucking happening, it's coming!" König grabbed the back of your head then, pulling away from your now puffy and slick mouth to look at you.
He opened his mouth and with the lowest groan and call of your name he came, rope after rope of his hot load shot out of his trembling body, slithering down your leg, across the floor. When you touched the crown of his cock lightly he hung his head against your shoulder and released another shot through your fingers, mouthing thanks.
….
You rode that high like a horse! You, you of all people, made König a sloppy mess and it wasn't even from your pussy or mouth. Hands free. The sounds he made, the way he rested against you for stability, the way his mouth slotted perfectly over your own. How he smelled. How he tasted. How sweetly, The Collector, had asked you to stay.
You made you way down the village lane, side stepping Tove running after her brothers. There was a chill in the air now, crisp were the mornings, cooler, like now, in the evening. The leaves that had changed color awhile back had now all but fallen into piles, crunching under your boots, laced with frost.
It was a decent morning, your head held high as you knew something no one else here did.
As you eyed a necklace, a very similar shade to the emerald around your arm, a voice, one of the most pleasant and calm hit your ears. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I am rather pleased to see you alive and well."
That voice sounded very familiar and as you turned around on your heel, you smiled at Kim Hong-jin, decked out in thick furs, a very beautifully detailed cloak and fur wrapped boots up to his shins.
"Mr. Hong-jin, what a pleasure."
"Ah, you have a good memory. I see you are settling in for the winter as well here, very nice shade I must say."
"Thank you, sir."
"Please, please. If you are still able to walk and breathe, you can call me Horangi. Is your host around? We must discuss the winter rations and cautions." He asked, adjusted his attired with ease and grace that only a man of his caliber could carry. He gave head tilt.
"Um, I believe so. Shall I take you up to the great hall to sus him out?"
"Lead the way, pet." Horangi said, extending out his arm for you to take, making your way back towards the hall.
The hall was less packed this time of day, the musicians were practicing by the large hearth, two young girls stoking the flames to keep the room cozy. No König.
His room; empty.
The large room he held meetings and discussions in; bare.
The kitchen was bustling but still no Collector.
You tried to hide your embarrassment when König could not but located, Horangi didn't mind though. In fact you thought he might be enjoying this time, milling about KorTac, speaking of tales and telling storied that hung within these walls. How close he and König were, had been thick as literal thieves.
You came to a foreign space at the back, there was a cell of sorts with iron doors and some sort of locking mechanism. You could hear someone talking but it was too faint to make out. It made you curious and gave you pause. When you turned to tell Horangi you were sorry, the door at the very end of the corridor creaked open.
The instant slap of skin on skin echoed out into the hall. Another slap, another moan, another step back as Simon walked out, both hands covering his groin.
"Apologies!" he exclaimed, you could hear delight in his voice. Uncertain if it was from actually seeing you or what he'd been up to behind that door. "I haven't seen you in two days time, thought for sure you might have cut and run. And you bring a guest, Horangi, my brother, how are you?"
"Quite well, and well escorted by pet here. My Ghost… are you ill? You are sweating quite profusely."
"Exertion will do that. Ada can be quite the handful as you know, needs a good fucking to put her in her place as you well know yourself, brother." Ghost panted with a shrug.
"That I do. Is the big man around, we have matters to discuss before the first frost arrives."
"He is but… he is indisposed as of currently. He could talk you through it if you like." You didn't miss the way Ghost tilted his head at you, louder sounds of pleasure or pain, or perhaps both met your ears and before you knew it, your feet were moving. Still within earshot of the two intimidating men, you pushed the door with your boot, bile rising in your throat.
"I can wait, I shall take my leave get something fresh to drink in your great hall."
"Of course. Our house is your house brother. I shall send him out your way once he's finished."
Soap was on some massive bed, bending over a voluptuous naked woman. His thrusts sloppy at best, he couldn't even form words, the woman couldn't either as you watched The Collector grab a sharp hold of her face. You hated everything in that moment. The world around you slowed as König pointed at her with his other, gloved hand. Barking at her, orders, commands, filth.
He eventually turned his head at the last second, catching your eye and the moment you took off, pushing past Ghost and Horangi.
You ran.
What else were you so supposed to do?
How fucking naïve of you to believe König had true, honest feelings for you. How idiotic. You were merely a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less. He'd tricked you, spoiled you into thinking because he was bare to the world and to you, showed his face, his lust, his thirst, that it would only be for you. How foolish.
You ran out the front doors, boots sticking into the mud like boulders on the cliffside of the fjord, imbedding into the wet soil. Down the lane, up the hill, through the houses of the village until you hit open air. The familiar clearing. The training field grounds.
You dropped to the dewy ground, your head to the grass, covering the back of your head as you cried your little heart out.
Only left along with your thoughts, how he made you feel, how apparently you made him feel all went tumbling away. You felt sorry and stupid for believing the horny words, the advancement in relations. You felt so high on your horse and now you pelted down like earth beneath. You grasped and tugged at your hair as the thought of that night made you sick now.
"What did he do this time?"
You didn't even hear even hear Kruger, the stealthy bastard, spinning one of the wooden practice swords in the setting sun of the bruised sky.
"Who?" You asked, it was rhetorical of course. You lifted you head when Kruger crouched in front of you with the end of the sword.
"König of course. He's the only one who makes you cry. Every Gods damn time. Look at you." Kruger shook his head, hood swaying when you started bawling again. He put the sword aside and sat down with you, gather you up in his arms. An embrace, endearment for the pet of clan.
You didn't know how long you cried, when you finally stopped. What you did know was that you were hanging upside down, drifting in and out. Kruger had you hefted over his shoulder, gently walking back to the village. Your eyes fluttered closed once more.
You kept your eyes closed when you felt him drop you down to your bed, drowsy from crying so much your cheeks hurt, the muscles tight and aching. There was a shifting sound from The Collectors side of the space.
"It is none of my business what you've done to her, but for the love of Odin, bitte, treat her better."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"If she's not training, she's crying. If she is not eating, guess what? Now pet is sobbing! Poor thing, I am surprised she has any water left in those eyes." Kruger scolded the leader.
König sighed and mumbled something out of ear shot, their heavy steps retreating as you drifted off to sleep.
tagging: @powerfultenderness
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the--blackdahlia · 13 days ago
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Stomach Bug (Keaton!Batman x Reader)
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Title: Stomach Bug
Summary: You've got a stomach bug. Bruce wants to help
Warnings: Just fluff
For @blackberries45
“Alfred, have you seen (y/n)?” Bruce asked Alfred. It was the afternoon, and he had expected to see you somewhere around the mansion, but couldn’t seem to locate you. Master detective at work.
“Mrs. Wayne is resting in one of the guest rooms. She has a stomach bug,” Alfred put a ginger ale, some crackers, and soup on a tray.
“Why is she in the guest room?”
“Something about not wanting to get you sick Master Bruce.”
“I literally run around Gotham during the rain and go down shady alleys. A stomach bug isn’t going to detour me,” He took the tray from Alfred and headed down the hall to the guest room. He quietly walked in. You were wrapped up in a fluffy blanket with a box of tissues right by you. You had the TV on, soap operas playing but you weren't really paying attention to them. Bruce sat the tray down on the dresser and walked over to the bed.
He gently placed a hand on your forehead, frowning when he felt how warm you were. Your eyes flickered at his cooler hands, finally opening and looking up at him.
“B-Bruce?” You sounded so hoarse. It made his heart hurt.
“How are you feeling babe?”
“Like absolute shit,” You groaned, not trying to sit up. You just snuggled more into your blankets.
“You didn’t have to leave our bedroom to sleep in here,” Bruce looked around at the room. “In fact, I don’t even remember the last time this room was used.”
“When we had that fight a couple of months ago,” You laughed a little, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit. Bruce climbed into the bed by you and helped you sit up.
“Alfred made you soup. And send crackers and ginger ale,” Bruce grabbed the glass and held it to your lips, letting you take a couple of large drinks. “I know you don’t want to eat, but I think you should at least try. You know how good Alfred’s soups are.”
“I guess I can try. But you don’t have to be here. I don’t want you getting sick.”
“Sweetheart, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now. Gotham will be fine without me for one night.” He got the soup and fed you. You made it about halfway through before you waved off the rest. Once he sat the bowl down, he had you wrapped up in his arms. He didn’t like how warm you felt, but he knew it just needed to work itself out.
“Thank you, Brucie,” You whispered, resting your head on his chest as sleep started to claim you again. Bruce couldn’t help but smile. He always did when you called him Brucie.
“I’d do anything for you,” He murmured, rubbing your back. “I love you so much.” He watched you sleep, knowing that he would do anything to take care of you.
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lauraneedstochill · 2 years ago
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First time for everything (modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au — part 2)
✨ part 1 — “All yours”
words: ~ 6900 (it’s worth it, though ;) warnings: a TON of fluff (is anyone surprised at this point?), smut (minors DNI), you may feel a little sad that he’s not your boyfriend (I certainly do)
author’s note: this was supposed to be mostly romantic headcanons but then something came over me... honestly, I blame it on the goddamn golden chain! can’t believe I wrote this, I’m drinking holy water as we speak
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⋙ You think you should be concerned with how easy things are with him. With how fast he sneaks into your thoughts, and his hand effortlessly finds yours, and you relish in the simplest touch, in the feeling of comfort that he brings, and he knows all the right words, and the two of you fit like puzzle pieces.
With anyone else, you would’ve been concerned but Aemond gives you no reason to be.
⋙ Your first date comes in a week, and you’re not nervous about it but more so ridiculously curious — he only mentions that you should dress casually, and you think of dinner or maybe a picnic. But when the cab brings you to the city center, and Aemond opens the door for you — you find yourself standing at the steps of a gallery and you instantly know where he brought you to. It’s a three-week exhibition of Mexican artists, the one you’ve been dying to go to. You only mentioned it once and in passing weeks ago, frustrated that the tickets were sold out in 15 minutes, and since then you have long forgotten about it. But Aemond hasn’t. The realization that he remembered that little detail makes you stupidly sentimental, and you can’t utter a word. He brings you into a hug, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“We can get another Uber and go to my place and watch every rom-com you can think of if it makes you feel better.”
With your head nuzzled to his chest, you hear his heartbeat, the sound of it calming like a rumble of waves. When you shyly look up at him, the color of his eyes is dusted with scattered sunlight.
“Aemond, but you planned — ”
“I planned to spend time with you,” he hushes you with that same tone of gentle certainty. “Everything else is just decorations we can easily switch up.”
His reassurance sounds more like a promise, and you have it engraved in your memory, along with him, looking at you like this. And you think he should make some memories, too, so you take him by the hand and lead the way.
⋙ You opt for an audio guide since both of you aren’t keen on following crowds, and you enthusiastically walk from one painting to the other, sharing the earphones, your fingers intertwined with his, and you can’t help but talk over the guide. Aemond doesn’t complain once. Every time you look at him, he’s smiling brightly at you, and sometimes he leaves a quick peck on the bow of your shoulder. Somewhere in between Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, you realize that you really want to kiss him.
⋙ Part of the exhibition is a screening of a documentary played in a small dark hall, and Aemond is naive to think you actually want to watch it. You drag him in, and the place is empty, only lit by the movie screen, and before he can ask a thing, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss him until you’re both out of breath. And then you tell him it’s the best date you’ve ever had.
“You mean, the best so far,” he remarks cheekily — and trails for your lips again.
⋙ On the next date, you learn that he loves to cook. The man who can live off protein shakes and steaks actually owns cookbooks and lets you pick a meal but forbids you to help him, saying that you deserve a break. Still, you charm your way into the kitchen to assist him with making the sauce, and Aemond is unable to say no. You are a chaotic cook and he follows the recipe but somehow you make a great team — he’s good at cutting vegetables and measuring, you pick all the right spices and know what al dente is. He looks absurdly gorgeous in an apron, and you end up sitting on his lap while he lifts a forkful of pasta to your mouth. You bashfully confess that you’ve always wanted to re-enact the kissing scene from “Lady and the Tramp”. He grins at your confession — and gladly helps to make your wish come true. A couple of times.
⋙ You do go on a picnic — you feed him cherries and Aemond reads you his favorite book out loud, you wear his hoodie again and his perfume lingers on your hair. He takes you to the biggest library in town and you spend hours looking for that one old copy of Sylvia Plath’s book of poems, and he steals a few kisses from you in between endless rows of shelves. You go to a fancy french bakery and he buys you one of each kind of pastry, and you are both all sugared up — and in love.
⋙ When Aemond has to leave for a competition, it’s not necessarily tragic — since you knew it was coming — and it’s only for five days, but you get blindsided by the realization of how attached you’ve become. On the night before his departure, he invites you in for a movie marathon, brings you popcorn and makes you laugh to tears, and then you doze off in his arms. He moves you onto his bed and tucks you in, and you wake up when his side of the bed is still warm. You find freshly made waffles in the kitchen — and there’s a blue post-it note on the fridge that says: “I’m gonna miss you more. — A.”
He leaves you a spare key to his apartment.
Your breakfast tastes like tears.
⋙ The first day without him is pure misery, but you eat your waffles and follow the routine, and Aemond sends you texts every chance he gets. You make him a playlist called “Kick some ass” (he does), and you kick yourself for not coming up with an excuse to go with him. On the second day, you pull out his hoodie in a poor attempt to find some comfort but his scent had almost dissipated, and his seat next to you stays empty, and each class only reminds you of his absence. On the third day, you are up to your ears in studying and you miss Aemond’s phone call, and your heart all but erupts from yearning.
On the fourth day, Mr. Harrold brings up Marina Tsvetaeva’s love poems, and you think that must be some cruel joke. You spend half an hour pretending to be deaf, but then the professor quotes:
“to kiss the lips is to drink water,” 
— and suddenly you are nothing but thirst, and you feel like you are about to burst into tears again. You don’t know how you manage to sit through the rest of it but as soon as the class is over you sprint out and buy a train ticket. You don’t bother yourself with packing, only picking up your toothbrush, a face wash and Aemond’s hoodie. And you know for sure that you’ve fallen hard for him.
⋙ You arrive by the time their morning training is over, and the guys are piling out of the locker rooms already. Aemond is one of the last to come out, his hair still wet and his t-shirt clearly not ironed, and his face is too sad for your liking. His best friend Cregan notices you first, elbowing your boyfriend with a smile. Aemond follows his gaze with indifference — and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. A second later his face lights up. And then you do the cheesiest, right-out-of-the-movies kind of thing — you run to him, he scoops you up, you wrap your legs around his waist.
“I didn’t know that you would come,” Aemond is grinning ear to ear. “I would’ve picked you up to save you some time and — ,” you can’t stop yourself from kissing him, a tad modestly but with ardor nonetheless, and he forgets what he wanted to say. You card fingers through his hair and notice a shadow that spread under his eyes. You want to cook him dinner and pepper kisses all over his face and wrap him up in blankets so he can get some rest. Aemond bumps his nose into yours.
“Please don’t skip classes for me,” he entreats but his tone suggests that he’s delighted that you did. His gaze warms you up like sunlight.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never done it before,” you lower your voice as if it’s a well-guarded secret. “But I was feeling adventurous.”
He plays along with a mischievous smile:
“First time for everything, huh?”
You two leave right after the awarding ceremony, and Aemond doesn’t bother to stay for the farewell party. He ends up falling asleep on your shoulder, with his hands wrapped around you, and some old lady on the train ‘awws’ at you. He naps in the cab, too, his fingers ensnared into your palm, and you’re overcome with emotion, wishing that the ride to his apartment lasted a bit longer. You order take-out while he’s still fighting off sleep but does so while cuddling you on his couch. There’s another, internal battle that he’s having as his face goes more somber than tired but your kisses and food seem to help.
That is until Aemond pulls you in bed, back into his arms, his breath tickling your neck.
“It was no fun,” he finally admits, “leaving you.”
You interlock your fingers with his, your lips graze his knuckles before you turn to face him.
“But it will get easier,” you promise — both him and yourself. “And I missed you, too.”
His lips melt into yours to seal the promise, and you breathe in a lungful of his scent. Aemond passes out in no time, and you watch his chest rising and falling, the steady rhythm of it eventually lulling you to sleep. Right before that, you think that it was your first separation out of many to come, but in the end, it’s all worth it when he’s the one you are waiting for.
⋙ Another thing you two are yet to cross off your list is, surprisingly, sex. Aemond is the one to suggest taking it slow, and it does make sense at first — with his competitions scheduled back to back and you being swamped with homework, both of you doing the bare minimum to help each other deal with exhaustion. He sends you reminders to take a break, you help him with meal planning and spend evenings reading together, most times with his head on your lap. Aemond leaves you snacks and post-it notes with his favorite quotes of Russian poetry, which brings some excitement into your studying — and you come to his training, being the supportive girlfriend that you are.
And that turns out to be a problem.
⋙ Watching Aemond train is quite a spectacle — enthralling at first, but also unspeakably arousing as you come to learn fairly soon. He is focused and fast, his toned body flexible and moving with energetic precision. He’s got a quick reaction and there’s a glint of threat in his gaze that makes some of his competitors feel uneasy. He’s not the one to rip t-shirts apart and flex muscles (much to some girls’ disappointment) but to you, it only fuels the anticipation that spills in your lower abdomen. But your lusting wanes when you see the weary look on his face, and you only snuggle up to him as closely as possible, deeming that enough for now.
One of these days Aemond comes out of the locker room with Cregan whose arm is draped over your boyfriend’s shoulder, his hold tight like a bear trap, but the intent is friendly.
“Y/N, you need to side with me on this one,” Cregan enthusiastically pleads. “I’m throwing a party and this monk doesn’t want to go! I was hoping you’d make him socialize.”
“I will not make him do anything,” you retort politely, and Aemond gives you a look of gratitude. “But we can negotiate once you stop holding him hostage.”
Cregan lets out a bellowing laugh, freeing Aemond with a pat on the back.
“I’ll never force our star boy to bear having a good time but I’d love for you two to join us,” he warm-heartedly explains. “Just think about it!”
He leaves you in the cooling stillness of the evening, and Aemond plants a kiss on your temple.
“We don’t have to go,” he immediately assures.
“Your friends can’t be that bad.” 
“They get a bit wild when drunk,” he chuckles softly into your hair. “And Cregan is set on having a dress code each time.”
“Is it something wild, too?”
“No, mostly formal, and the guys usually end up throwing away the ties.”
“Doesn’t sound bad to me,” you draw circles on his palm. “Maybe we can have some fun,” your smile is a tad impish, and his looks surprisingly pleased when he agrees.
The sky is painted by the sunset, pink tones of it reflecting on Aemond’s face. You’d like to see him all dressed up. And then strip him of his clothing.
⋙ You hate shopping for dresses so your best friend tags along, and she dismisses at least a dozen of options before managing to fish out the perfect one — knee-length and with a deep cut on the back, it’s the color of a sea storm with a splash of purple. Once you put the dress on, she comments approvingly:
“He will fuck your brains out.” 
“Arya!” you hiss at her but she looks unamused.
“What? I thought that’s what you wanted. Kinda surprised he hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”
“We are taking it slow,” you remind her while staring in the mirror. You try not to think of how easy it will be to take this dress off.
“Very PG-13 of you,” she huffs with a smile. “But I guess I should thank him.”
“How so?” you raise a brow at her.
“I fear, once you get a taste,” Arya gives you a suggestive look, “he will keep you in bed for days. At least for now I still have a chance to hang out with you.”
You feel your cheeks heating up at the mere thought of it. And you hope that’s exactly what happens.
⋙ Aemond comes to pick you up on Friday evening. He buzzes in through an intercom and you let him in, opening the front door in advance. You go back to your room to put on the heels, briefly stopping to fix your hair. Aemond walks in with no warning, his voice brimming over with boyish excitement:
“I was just thinking — ,” and then he falls silent, seeing you standing with your back to the door.
You look at Aemond over your shoulder, moving your hair away from your neck to expose more skin, and turn to him slowly.
“You, um... I-You — ” he clears his throat. Then does it again, eyes roaming over your body. “This dress looks really good on you,” he manages to say while you take him in.
The color of his suit is almost black and it sets off his dark blue shirt, crisp and carelessly unbuttoned. His jacket is an excellent fit, framing his shoulders and sitting tightly around his arms. But what catches your attention is the golden chain that snakes along his collarbones, part of it coyly hiding in the depths of the dark material. Your eyes fix on the shining jewelry — for a brief moment, you contemplate staying at home and undressing him to find out where the chain ends.
You blink that thought away, remembering that it’s time to leave as both you and Aemond hate being late. You walk over to him, running your hand over his jacket:
“You look quite charming yourself,” you give him a smile instead of a kiss. “What were you saying?”
Aemond seems startled and supposedly oblivious to the effect he has on you but you catch a twirl of darkness condensing in his gaze. In the depths of it, there’s a flicker of need, of hunger — and you wonder if he’s been ravenous this entire time, too.
“You should come over tonight,” he suggests, and you don’t need him to give you a reason.
“Sounds like a plan,” you move your hand away, suppressing a frustrated sigh so he won’t get the wrong idea. Or the very right idea that you try your best to push aside, at least for a couple of hours.
On your way out of the apartment, you can feel him gazing devouringly at you. You let him.
⋙ Cregan is a combination of a party animal and a homeboy — he pours drinks with one hand and threatens to rip anyone’s head off for leaving as much as a scratch on his family’s porcelain tea set. He jokes and generously compliments all the girls he meets but he also respects boundaries and makes sure to pay the same attention to his fiancee, Alysanne. She doesn’t mind, her black curls bouncing while she laughs and warmly greets the guests. You catch her eye in no time — she’s smiley, her gaze filled with curiosity.
“Everyone is dying to meet you,” she takes you under the arm and leads away to introduce you to a motley group of girls, and within a minute you are caught in the current of voices and faces. They bombard you with questions, chatty but not too prying, some already a bit tipsy and way more friendly than they would’ve been otherwise. But you let yourself enjoy the talks and gossip, mostly for Aemond to have some fun with his friends. And he actually does.
They talk sport, as expected, their arguing innocuous, followed by toasts and some banter. They play poker although half of them barely remember the rules so it’s hardly gambling but they do get rid of ties pretty fast. Cregan puts on some music, breaks a few glasses and calls for your boyfriend to join them for beer pong. Aemond has no intention to get wasted so Cregan takes it upon himself while your boyfriend throws the ball into the cups with ease. Other guys call it cheating, Cregan says it’s an allocation of duties.
Aemond laughs — sincerely, with his dimples showing, but you note that he never refills his glass of whiskey. And every time you throw a glance at him, his eyes are on you, and the golden chain seems to attract every ray of light in the room. You only have one drink — a watered-down gin tonic, but you feel like you can liquor up just by looking at him. In an hour, when they move to the pool table, Aemond slings his jacket over one shoulder and rolls up his sleeves — and you’re dazed, lust swelling in you, sweet and viscous like honey.
He aims the pool balls and makes the shots but each one echoes in your lower belly. You try to think of a reason to leave but you can’t think straight, and Aemond seems completely unaware of your torment but then one of his mates makes the wrong shot, and a ball falls off the table, rolling at your feet. You move to pick it up — as gracefully as your dress would allow it, and walk to them, and suddenly Aemond watches your every step. You only lean on the side of the pool table, with no intention to tease or bend over, yet his eyes scan over your whole body, his hold on the cue tightening.
“Earth to Aemond,” Cregan mutters with a smirk. “You good?”
“Yeah,” he musters in reply. “I think I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”
He stares at you, and you nod with a silent agreement that comes with a delectable foretaste.
⋙ Cregan walks you two to the cab, red in the face from all the alcohol but still good-humored. He gives you a big hug, politely keeping his hands at your shoulder level, and then embraces Aemond, too.
“I’m so glad you came!” he rumbles excitedly and then adds, “I was afraid I’d never live to see the day.”
“Man, we see each other pretty often,” Aemond laughs off.
“No, I mean this,” Cregan gestures at you. “Finally, you got the girl!”
Aemond looks at you — happy and proud, his hands finding your waist, and your heart sings with glee. You all but drag your boyfriend away as Cregan guffaws and waves you goodbye.
“He’ll stop his teasing eventually,” Aemond chortles once you get into the car, and it sounds like he mostly wants to reassure himself.
“Well, he does have a point — you took your time with me,” you giggle, straightening his collar. “I was kinda expecting you to kiss me in the locker room,” you jokingly pout.
“You mean, the place that smells like a bunch of sweaty men? Nope, that’s not how I imagined our first kiss to be,” he rebuts but then his face freezes, and you realize he didn’t mean to let it slip. You turn your head to him, and the reddening of his cheeks is visible even in the dim lighting of the car. He avoids your gaze — your tall, handsome, annoyingly hot boyfriend — because he’s clearly flustered. Every time you think he can’t get any more attractive, he somehow does.
You move closer, your arm bumping into his.
“Was it the only thing you’ve imagined us doing?” you ask quietly.
He looks at you in an instant, and when your eyes meet, you bite your lower lip, a twinkle of a smile in the corners of your mouth. You can only hope that he takes the hint — and, by the look on his face, he does. 
“No,” Aemond gulps. “Definitely not the only thing.”
You place your hand on his knee and then leisurely move your palm higher, stopping at his upper thigh, letting your fingers slide to the inner side of it, all of that while maintaining eye contact. He’s holding his breath the entire time.
“Dare to share?” you lean in, putting your chin on his shoulder. “Or better... show me?” the question is only meant for him to hear.
There’s a shift in the air and your pulse skyrockets, and you feel like you’re ten seconds away from straddling him right here and now. But then Aemond covers your hand with his and says:
“Yeah, I can show you.”
⋙ You expect him to be all over you once you’re in the elevator but no, he’s the epitome of restraint. If only it wasn’t for his jaw clenched and his back tense — and him literally closing his eyes because there are mirrors around the perimeter, and he physically cannot avoid looking at you. He rushes out of the elevator but does his best to slow the pace as he knows you won’t be able to keep up with your heels on.
He unlocks the door with one turn of the key and then moves away to let you in first, you hurry in, he follows suit, the door closes with a bang. The apartment is dark, the street lighting shyly peeking through the windows, your heart is pounding so loud, you can barely hear a thing — and then your turn to Aemond, and he’s already looking at you. And the world stands still.
He takes a step toward you, one after another, shamelessly leering at you, and the sheer intensity of his gaze is enough for you to feel the all-familiar throbbing between your legs.
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he rasps when you’re barely a meter apart. You can’t tell who closes the distance first but in the next second his lips collide with yours — as eager and vehement as ever — and your mind goes blank, your body overflowing with lust that spreads with blood and rages like fever.
His hand nestles under the angle of your jaw, his mouth avidly capturing yours, drinking your little sighs, while your fingers are tugging at his shirt — they accidentally slip down, and Aemond groans, his own arousal making his pants tight. He spins you around, your back resting against his chest as he lowers the straps of your dress — and rapidly pulls the upper part of it down. You are not wearing a bra, your bosom heaving with shaky breaths, and he inhales sharply at the sight. He moves to gently squeeze your breasts, hands full of supple flesh, and then he tentatively rolls your nipples between his fingers. Your head falls back on his shoulder, a low moan escaping your mouth, and you grind against him, desperate to feel more.
“You are so sensitive,” Aemond coos, his breath warm against your neck, your nipples hardening in his hands. “So beautiful.”
He goes for your zipper, pulling it down, and his fingers slide under the slinky material, raring to touch your skin. You wiggle your way out of the dress, and he helps to take it off, his hands following every curve of your body, stirring you up. Turning around, you claim his lips, your tongue finding his in a frenzy as you push the jacket off him, your shoes already lying around in the hallway, and he maneuvers you toward the bedroom. Aemond roughly swings the door wide open — and then he tenderly lays you down on the bed like you are his most prized possession.
He undresses at the speed of light and, at any other time, it would’ve made you laugh but it only turns you on more — the growing anticipation, the hunger he has for you, the all-consuming desire that fills you to the brim. Aemond strips down to his boxers — and he looks god-like, slim and muscled, and it feels like a blessing when he kisses you again. He hooks your panties with one finger and breaks the kiss to drag them down, his touch leaving a burning trail from your hip to your heel.
And then he gets on his knees.
Aemond places a hand on your ankle, massaging small circles there as he slowly pulls you toward the edge of the bed. Your breath shudders at the realization of what he’s about to do, and he grins — greedily, darting his tongue to wet his lips. Aemond moves you closer and puts one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving kisses up your calf. He uses his hand to spread you wide for him and hums with contentment upon seeing you glistening with arousal.
“I wonder who made you so wet,” he teases, fixing his gaze on you.
You intend to answer him but the six-letter word — his name — is stuck in your throat as he runs his thumb up to your clit — and, without a warning, repeats the movement with his tongue, licking a wide stripe and then diving right in. Your eyes flutter shut and you can feel him opening his mouth wider, his lower lip moving down along your folds, his tongue lapping at you with a voracity of a starved man, jolts of pleasure rippling through you within seconds. You have to cover your mouth with a hand to muffle a long-drawn moan, afraid that his neighbors will hear although you can’t even remember if he has any.
Aemond looks up at you, the lower part of his face obscenely wet.
“I feel that you are holding back,” he says in a husky voice, his eyes dark with lust. “But I can fix that.”
He gives you no time to catch your breath as he sucks at your clit and slides a finger into you, making you cry out loud, your hips unwillingly bucking upward. You really want to know how the hell is he so good at this but you can’t concentrate on anything but the feeling of his tongue, your body trembling in his hands like a guitar string. Aemond adds a second finger with ease, curling them both inside you, and then you feel a distinct vibration as he can’t hold back his own moan, seeing you like this, tasting you like this — and it sends you over the edge.
Aemond helps you ride out your orgasm, leaving soft kisses around your navel as you come down from your high, your mind hazy and breathing ragged but you keep your eyes focused on him. With a blink of an eye, he’s fully naked and with a condom on. He’s bathing in the moonlight that outlines his tense muscles, his face flushed pink but with no hint of shyness, and when he locks his gaze with yours, it flares up your desire all over again, and he notices it right away.
Aemond has a grin on his face as he hovers over you, lips contouring your jawline, and he presses his tip at your entrance but doesn’t push it in, instead coating it in the wetness that’s already pooling between your legs. But his teasing is short-lived as he lasts for barely a minute, sliding his cock up and down — and then his eyelids flutter, and a small moan leaves his lips. You wiggle your hips, clenching around nothing, and look at him, whimpering “Aemond” — and that’s all it takes.
He sinks in you in one swift motion, so thick and filling you up so perfectly, your mouth falls open in a silent cry.
“Fuck, I — ,” he sucks in a breath, not moving an inch. “I-I need to go slow or I will not last.”
He lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses from your breasts up to your neck, and they burn like bruises on your heated skin. His hips roll against yours agonizingly slow, and you feel like your whole body is on fire, and you need him deeper, and you crave more of him, all of him. A glint of gold catches your attention, your eyes moving to the chain that dangles down his neck, and you pass the cool metal between your fingers. You lightly tug at the chain with your lips and then release it with a wet sound, looking at Aemond through your lashes. You feel his breath hitching, his gaze not leaving your mouth.
You part your lips, letting the chain slip in, and then grit your teeth, the gold glimmering between them. You push the chain out with your tongue, swiping it over the jewelry and sucking the chain back into your mouth. Aemond is so spellbound, he stills his movements, his pupils dilated to the rim. He brings his hand to your face, tracing your lower lip and then opening your mouth again to pull the chain out, his lips slanting over yours.
“Aemond,” you breathe out into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”
His restraint snaps and crumbles and dissolves completely. He pulls out for merely a second before slamming back into you, and the movement electrifies every nerve in your body, eliciting a yelp from you. Before you know it, he’s pounding into you at an ungodly pace, his hips harshly snapping forward, finding just the right spot, while his grip on you is still gentle, and you feel an overwhelming pressure building up, your moans turning into wails, your body going weak and pliable, aching for release.
“I-I am so close, I need... ,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, throat soar and voice strained. “I — Aemond... — please.”
He understands it perfectly and smiles breathlessly at you.
“So fucking polite,” he purrs, his teeth grazing your neck. “And all mine.”
His hand slips between your bodies, zeroing in on your clit, and then he starts tapping on it, the movement precise and fast, fanning your overstimulated skin, and it makes your whole body quiver violently as your orgasm washes over you like a heatwave, and you don’t care if the whole neighborhood hears you. Aemond’s eyes never leave your face while you come undone, your back arching as your walls tense and pulse around him, and he follows soon after, his moans muffled by the crook of your neck.
It takes a minute for you to come to your senses as he pulls out and rolls on his back, bringing you into his embrace. You both try to regain your breath, and the time crawls while you are in this bubble of intimacy.
“It’s the dress, isn’t it?” you break the comfortable silence, your fingers tracing a dash of moles on his skin.
“The dress is downright sinful,” Aemond laughs, “but no,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
There’s an unexpected pause, and then he speaks up with raw emotion in his voice:
“I want you all the time.”
You glance up at him, your hand moving up his chest, and you feel his heart beating erratically like a bird trapped in a cage.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to rush it. I knew that once we...,” he stutters, and your eyes dart to his lips, swollen and raspberry-tinted. “There’s no going back from here.”
He just made you cum twice and now he's stumbling over his words — and it’s the perfect combination, truly. Your tenderness clashes with something more primal, igniting the flames all over again, and his fingers already tighten the grip on your thigh.
“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t want to go back,” you murmur, and he lowers his head first to capture your lips with his, and you think that Arya was right. And then his hand slides between your legs and you can’t think of anything at all.
⋙ A week later, there isn’t a single flat surface in his apartment left that you didn’t have sex on. Aemond wants to know every way to make you feel good and he gets down to work with the diligence of a straight-A student. He’s eager to learn but he does take his time to practice — and you enjoy every minute of it as he maps your body and memorizes all the spots that make you weak. But apart from the ardent passion, there’s this caring softness of his that fills your heart with love even when you least expect it.
It happens one morning when he sits you down on the kitchen counter, his hand in your pants, fingers sliding into you, deep and rhythmic, as his mouth covers your nipple — and you sharply arch your back, risking hitting your head on a wall but Aemond manages to place his hand there and keeps it behind your nape the entire time.
Or on another day, when you two burst into his apartment after his training, your hands all over him as you hop onto the wooden shoe stand, unbuttoning his jeans, and he hikes your skirt to your thighs, pushing your panties aside, and fills you up, his mouth muffling your moans — and then his palm lands on the wooden surface and he breaks the kiss:
“This wasn’t made for sitting on it, I can tell.”
You honestly couldn’t care less but Aemond doesn’t wait for you to respond — he easily hoists you up, still hard and fully in you, and as you squirm and shiver with pleasure, he brings you into his room and lowers you on the bed.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he smirks, his hands skimming up your thighs.
You are not sure if it’s about the fluffy blanket or him instantly picking up the pace but you nod vigorously, pushing your hips up to meet his. He sucks on the sweet spot close to your ear and whispers:
“It’s about to get better.”
And it does.
⋙ He buys a new shoe stand the very next day. He brings it in and assembles it himself, and you watch him with a blip of guilt:
“The old one was fine, Aemond, you shouldn’t have bothered.”
He puts away the tools and, as he’s standing up, he places a kiss on your pajama-covered hip, following it by a peck on your lips:
“I did and I would’ve done it again, sweetheart.”
Aemond goes to his room to put down the tools, and you come along.
“I just don’t want you to waste your money,” you murmur, standing in the doorway.
And then he says without thinking:
“Technically, it’s not mine.”
You look at him confused, and Aemond sighs, pondering for a minute.
You never brought it up but sometimes it does make you wonder why he seems so careless with his finances. You know that he’s got a scholarship (as do you) and he doesn’t tend to throw money around but he also doesn’t count the costs and rarely looks at price tags. You don’t ask him for anything nor do you want to yet the topic looms on the horizon, and you don’t really know what to think of it.
It sounds like Aemond doesn’t like to discuss it so he keeps the story brief: as it turns out, the apartment isn’t the only thing their dad left them. He also set up an account for each of his children to get — as Aemond says, his voice cold and bitter, — “a great deal of money in inheritance”. He doesn’t talk much about his father, either, but from what you’ve gathered Viserys has never been a loving parent so you can’t blame Aemond for the resentment.
“Maybe you should save up that inheritance for something more valuable,” you come closer with a soft smile, cuddling up to him and thinking that’s the end of the conversation.
What you don’t expect is for Aemond to pull out his phone and open the bank’s app to show his account to you. It looks like a phone number, only a couple of digits shorter, and you stare at the screen for a second before it dawns on you.
“O-oh,” you mutter.
His hand clings to your waist but he doesn’t say anything, and the silence feels weird and heavy like a wet coat.
“I rarely withdraw any money from it,” Aemond finally says. “But it comes in handy, like, once or twice a year.”
He wants nothing to do with his father, you realize, but that also explains his attitude toward money. Although he’s far from being spoiled, Aemond still comes from a privileged position, and you try to choose your words wisely before speaking up:
“Well, your refusal to depend on him is admirable but doesn’t it feel... wrong to have that amount of money and do nothing about it?”
Aemond unconsciously tenses up, lowering his gaze to you, an inkling of a frown on his face. You pull away slightly, too wrapped up in your thoughts as the words spill out of your mouth:
“Arya’s been volunteering at a dog shelter and they barely get any donations, she says the dogs are surviving mostly on leftovers brought by the neighbors, can you imagine? Also, I overheard Mr. Harrold complaining that the library roof is rotting and for some reason, the funding does not cover repairs — and, sure, we can just stop going there — but I think if you have the means and if you don’t really care about the money, why not use it to help someone out, you know?”
Aemond’s lack of response makes you turn to him, and you see him staring at you, his face expression unreadable.
“I mean, I’m aware that money doesn’t buy happiness and I’m not your financial advisor, obviously — do you even have one? ‘cause it seems like you should — and I won’t ever talk about it up again if you don’t want to and I don’t mean to overstep and — ”
The words roll off his tongue out of the blue:
“I love you,” Aemond blurts out.
You stop mid-sentence, looking at him in bewilderment, with wide eyes and lips parted, your train of thought completely forgotten. Your heart skips a bit — and then does so again, and you feel short of breath. Aemond doesn’t look away, his lips quirking in a smile as he gently tugs you closer but still leaves some distance as if he’s afraid you’ll want it.
“I love you,” he says again, without a shadow of a doubt. “And I know it may seem too soon, and you don’t have to say it back but I want to. And I want you to tell me anything and everything,” he allows himself a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “And there’s no one I’d rather talk to than you.”
You feel like someone set off firecrackers in your chest and they burst, loud and blazing, and your own smile blossoms. You cup the side of his face, sneaking a kiss against the underside of his jaw.
“I’m so glad you told me,” you whisper as your thumb settles next to his lower lip. “Because now I can say it, too. I love you,” you place a kiss on his cheek, “I love you so much,” — and on another cheek, right on his scar.
And then he catches your lips with his, and you both can’t stop smiling into the kiss, and you think that’s your favorite taste from now on: his laughter in your mouth. And you feel like you’ve never been happier in your entire life.
Aemond sprinkles your face with kisses then, only pausing to ask:
“What’s the name of that dog shelter?”
⋙ He buys way too much dog food — and water bowls and collars — and you help him pick the colors, and it feels kind of like a Christmas morning. The order is delivered in a few days, and you come by his apartment to help sort it out but Aemond greets you with a hand behind his back.
“I have something for you,” he grins mysteriously. “Turn around and close your eyes.”
You do as you’re told, curiosity bubbling in your chest, and something thin and cooling glides over the skin around your neck. You open your eyes to look in the mirror but find yourself at a loss for words. It’s a chain, a copy of the one he wears.
“I know you don’t like yellow gold so I thought a white one would be a better option,” he follows the curve of your shoulder with his finger.
“Aemond, this must cost a fortune,” your cheeks suffuse with pink.
“Na-ah, it doesn’t, not even close,” he places a kiss on the side of your neck. “I may be a philanthropist now but it’s only fair that I treat my girlfriend, too,” you catch the reflection of his smile and can’t help but smile back. You also can’t stop yourself from thinking of how to thank him, and an idea pops into your mind.
On the next Friday evening, when Aemond returns from his training session, he’s surprised to see a soft light coming from his room. He walks in — and then freezes in place, speechless: you are laying in his bed completely naked, batting your lashes at him and biting down on the white gold chain that glitters on your flushed lips.
“I think this gift calls for celebration,” you purr. “But you seem overdressed for the occasion.”
Luckily, he can remove his clothes at the speed of light.
Hours later, you’re laying in his bed, your body sweaty, aching and intertwined with his, and the first light of dawn is seeping through the curtains. Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, your fingers vine through his hair, and he runs his hand from the cleft of your breasts up to your chain, the warmed-up metal bright against your skin.
“This was my best investment ever,” he drawls with a tired smile.
And you can’t agree more.
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• shamelessly inspired by the quote “Don’t ask her to moan, make her” • this is only the second time I wrote smut so please be nice? something tells me I will write more ehehe • there will be part 3 BUT it may take a while ‘cause I want to think it through. also, I’m trying my best to keep the chapters relatively short around 6-7k so there’s a chance I’ll write more than one part • I plan on including interactions with his family / some vacation time / moving in together — but maybe there’s something else you want to read about? don’t hesitate to tell me!
as usual, comments are VERY appreciated 🥺 (opinions? asks? PLS just talk to me)
tagging everyone who’s ever asked: @greenowlfactiffif, @kyuupidwrites, @pearlstiare, @i-killed-ramsey, @bellaisasleep
✨ my recent fic: “My first choice” (she’s Aegon’s bestie, inspired by “Little women”) 🔥 the first smut I wrote: “The object of my desire” (~6500 words, inspired by the famous scene from Bridgerton S2) 💌 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!
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citrusitonit · 1 year ago
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VIL IMAGINE INCOMING !!! @v-anrouge stealing this from u bc im broed also AN INDULGENT THING @flqyd-is-lost
"Du bist sehr schön..." Vil mutters under his breath, staring at you with dreamy, half lidded eyes.
"Sorry, what was that?" You ask, looking up from your book.
Vil's eyes widen in realization, face flushing pink as he coughs. "It was nothing. You misheard me." he quickly says, waving a dismissive hand at your direction. He averts his eyes, eyeing his nails, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.
You only raise a questioning brow. "Ooookayy..." You drawl out awkwardly, flipping a page. The atmosphere becomes quiet again, and you're immersed within the book once more.
Vil glances at you. The first thing his eyes notice is how serene you look. The sunlight rays kissing your skin, and- oh. The way a strand of your hair fell just then. Vil is tempted to reach over and tuck it back behind your ear, but he resists.
He tries to look away, but he just can't. You're so... mesmerizing. So beautiful. His lips part as he lets out a soft exhale.
You look so dreamy, Vil thinks to himself. The shape of your eyes, the softness of your skin. He wonders if you'd be bothered if he held your hand. He bets it would fit perfectly. The way your fingers would intertwine, the warmth of your palms pressed together-
"Ich liebe dich so sehr."
The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them.
"Ich möchte deine Hand halten. Ich möchte jeden wachen Moment mit dir verbringen. Ich liebe dich so sehr, meine Liebe, du verstehst es nicht. Ich liebe dich mehr als die Sonne selbst."
His heart is pounding, breath a little heavy as he rambles. He doesn't even notice that he's leaned a little closer towards you, or how you're practically blinking at him in confusion.
"Uh- uhm..." You stammer out, confused. "I don't... really understand what you're saying, Vil..." you mutter, a bit awkwardly.
Vil blinks, his senses coming back to him. He snaps out of his dreamy gaze, sitting up straight and clearing his throat.
"It was nothing. I was just talking about your hair." He mumbles out hastily, cheeks flushed red and heart still pounding.
"Uhh, what about my hair? Is it so bad that you'd make a long-ass paragraph comment about it in your mother tongue?" You quip, jokingly.
Vil immediately refutes, eyes wide, "N-no! No, it was just.. Yes. I'm-" He fumbles over his words, hands gesticulating about. "I- was just talking about the how messy it is. Like, here." he mutters, leaning over and tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"There, all better now." he states, before sitting back in his seat and immediately looking away.
Meanwhile, you're still sitting there, confused.
Vil screams inside in his mind, face absolutely flushed.
He was going to have to be more alert around you next time, lest it happens again.
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ayteya · 1 year ago
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Human or Avatar!reader giving her first ever Na'vi bracelet or necklace made by herself to Neteyam/Tsu'tey. It's not an amazing work, maybe even quite bad, but he keeps it anyway.
Also if you want to add some spice, such a gift may give him a wrong idea. But it's up to you.
Narlor - Beautiful
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Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Neteyam x reader
Word count: 473
Warnings: ngl, I wrote this at literally 2 a.m. (Yes that's a warning itself), so I dunno if there are any mistakes (Sorry sorry). I just forgot to post it, so that's what I'm doing now.
A/N: Hey anon, thx for the request ^-^ I chose to do this one with Teyam, cuz I have smth in my drafts for Tsu'tey- Also, I didn't add spice, cuz I didn't rlly saw it fit into this fic, hope you'll forgive me <3
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„Aaaand finished.“, he laid the newly-made necklace down on his thigh. „What about you, paskalin?“, Neteyam looked over at Y/N, watching her fingers move at the piece of jewelry.
She didn't turn to meet his eyes, still focused on tying the knots, „Mhm... Just a bit more.“
Neteyam nodded, silently sitting cross legged next to his girlfriend, watching her in awe as she created a necklace as beautiful as herself. How did he get so lucky? How did he get so lucky, to have a girl like that as his mate?
That 'a bit more' turned into 15 minutes, and she finally tied the finishing knot. „Done... Frustrating crap... Now I know why I'm better at hunting.“, dramatically, Y/N let herself fall back to the ground from her sitting position.
„It looks beautiful. You did really good, yawne.“
Y/N just blankly stared at him, at the necklace, then back at Neteyam again. „Yeah no. Doesn't look good. Just take a look at yours- The entire thing looks so- so... I dunno how to describe it, just wow. And then-“, she let out a scoff, holding up her selfmade jewelry with a single finger „and then there's this thing right here.“
The young man lightly pushed her shoulder, „Hey, stop talking like that, would you?. It looks great, alright? It's your first one, you'll make more in the future and I'm sure you're gonna like them.“
„Yeah ok, but look at that knot and bead right there, it's-“
Neteyam interrupted her with a quick „No, I said stop.“
But Y/N being Y/N, she didn't listen, „Lo'ak would've done better than m-“, her sentence was stopped as she felt Teyam's lips on her own, engaging her in a kiss.
After some seconds passed, they pulled apart, only for him to lean in once more, stealing another kiss from her soft lips. Y/N was kinda suprised, so she asked him, „What was that for?“
He only responded with, „Was the only way to stop you from talking shit, yawne.“
----
The next day, when Y/N saw Neteyam again, her eyes immediately fell to his neck. There was a necklace. Her necklace. The one she made the day before. How could he wear such thing?
Neteyam noticed her gaze and chuckled. „I didn't lie when I said it's beautiful.“, he mentioned to Y/N „You're wearing the one I made as well.“
„Of course, but-“
„Paskalin, Dad doesn't want me to be late for training again.“, he stroked her cheek before bending down to give her a passionate kiss. „I'll see you later, yeah?“, with that, Neteyam stepped over to Jake, who was standing some feet away, aling with a handful of other hunters from the clan.
Now it was Y/N's turn to think how she could get so lucky, as she watched her beloved boyfriend walk away.
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!Translations! Paskalin - Honey/Sweet berry Yawne - Beloved
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Love y'all, Ayteya <3
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