#so much mischief hides behind that smile

[flwrstqr]

✶ ENHYPEN WHEN THEY KISS YOUR POUTY LIPS

PREC𝓲S ✦ enha x f!reader warnings skinship, petnames && 1090wc 𓈃 ♡ fluff, head canons, one shot ─── ˖ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕���� ୨୧

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)

heeseung chuckles as he catches you pouting, crossing his arms and leaning in close with a playful grin. "what's got my baby all pouty, hm?" he teases, his fingers brushing under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. you try to hold onto the pout, but it's hard when he's this close, his warm gaze softening as he scans your face. "c'mere," he murmurs, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. his hand rests on your waist, pulling you closer, and when he pulls back, he grins at the dazed look on your face. "better?" he whispers, thumb grazing your cheek. you just nod, cheeks heating up as he plants one more quick kiss. "good, ‘cause i hate seeing my pretty girl pout like that."

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)

“what’s with the pout, baby?” jay teases, his voice soft as he tilts your chin up, thumb tracing over your cheek. you grumble, crossing your arms, “you didn’t tell me you’d be out so late.” he chuckles, pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down until his lips brush yours, “how can i make it up to you?” your pout fades just a little as his eyes flick down to your lips, and before you can reply, he closes the gap, his mouth warm and gentle against yours. he pulls back with a playful grin, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “there we go. no more pouting, okay?”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)

"c’mon, don’t pout, baby,” jake murmurs, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he cups your face, his thumbs gently tracing your cheeks. you try to look away, but he tilts your chin back up to meet his gaze, eyes sparkling with playful mischief. “it’s not fair when you’re this cute, you know that?” he says, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your skin. before you can protest, his lips press against yours, soft and lingering, leaving you slightly breathless. he pulls back just a little. “i’d kiss that pout away all day if you’d let me," he whispers, his smile widening as he pecks you again. "or maybe... you'd like that a bit too much, huh?"

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)

"are you mad at me, sweetheart?" sunghoon asks softly, his brows drawing together as he studies your pout, worry flickering in his eyes. he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, hesitating, his hand lingering on your cheek. "i didn’t mean to upset you," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper as he glances down, clearly overthinking. “maybe i should’ve texted back sooner... or—was it something i said?” he rambles, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. you can’t help but smile at his nervousness, your pout easing. finally, you lean forward, closing the distance as his lips meet yours, soft and gentle, his breath catching in surprise. when he pulls back. “i... guess that’s one way to forgive me,” he murmurs, a small smile forming. “but... maybe you should pout more often, just so i can do that.”

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)

“a pout?” sunoo chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he tilts your chin up to look at him. you try to turn away, still sulking, but he only leans in closer, eyes sparkling with that familiar, playful warmth. “come on, don’t hide from me,” he whispers, his voice gentle, coaxing. “let me fix it, hm?” before you can protest, his lips are on yours. his hand cups your cheek, thumb tracing gentle circles as he pulls back just enough to smile down at you. “there,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours, “much better. you look way cuter when you’re smiling.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)

“what’s with the pout, angel?” jungwon’s voice is soft but teasing as he notices the little frown tugging at your lips. before you can even answer, he leans in without a second thought, capturing your pout in a sweet kiss. his hand finds your waist, pulling you a bit closer as his lips melt against yours, like he’s done this a hundred times before. when he finally pulls back, he’s grinning, his eyes sparkling as he tilts his head, admiring your flustered expression. “there we go,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek, “i like you much better without that pout.” you open your mouth to protest, but he just chuckles, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips. “no more pouting, okay?”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)

“aww, is someone pouting?” riki’s voice is filled with amusement as he leans in close, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. you try to look away, but he gently tilts your chin back, his eyes twinkling with that all-too-familiar teasing spark. “what, you want me to fix it?” he laughs softly, tilting his head as if he’s considering it. “maybe a kiss would help…” he trails off, his face just inches from yours, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. without waiting, he swoops in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to your pouty lips, then pulls back with a smirk. “there. feeling better now, pouty?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

[anantaru]

— you ask him "can i sit on your lap?"

including heizou, lyney, wriothesley, alhaitham x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, a tiny bit suggestive towards the end (wriothesley's part, basically the last paragraph hints at something suggestive)

— heizou

the door to heizou's office was closed behind you two, leaving the rest of the world outside as you laid on a couch while he was practically glued to his office-desk— his countenance focused, absorbed in the current case he was working on.

to some, it might appear as boring when you both spend time like that, but to you it was the exact opposite— not only were you able to work on your own stuff in his office, in fact, you're not getting distracted by anything there, but heizou will always spend the night at your place after he was done with work.

although sometimes, you catch yourself become bored once you've finished up everything you had to do yourself, and immediately decide to walk towards his desk, your eyes holding a secret glow only he was able to understand.

"how far are you?" you ask, "already cracked the case?" tilting your head to the sight before lazily leaning against his desk.

heizou smirks before brushing one hand through his tousled hair, "almost done, heh, i'm almost there,"

you know— you know, you shouldn't bother him while he was busy with solving this case, but watching him actually do it was very much attractive. it's constant in his behavior, your boyfriend was just effortlessly handsome when he skimmed over a case, never seeing the glass as half full— he see it brimming to the top, filled with all his brilliance. 

to add on to that, the both of you couldn't be apart from each other for a long time anyways, it was like watching two magnets, pushing and pulling until they finally clicked back into place.

"can i sit on your lap?" you say in a whispered utterance that was setting his heart ablaze, "i want to watch you solve it," and the way you spoke to him in that sound, heizou's facial features instantly turn softly into kindness, a carefree laugh attached to him.

"you don't have to ask, come here."

heizou instantly makes space for you before guiding you towards his lap, and an immediate rush of warm air rises when he wraps his arms around you, the tension roiling and manifesting into heart-shaped clouds.

now, as a result of being so close to your boyfriend, his slightly sweet fragrance overruns your senses when you rest your head against his shoulder, sighing out through your mouth.

"you wanna help me solve this case, hm?" the man snickers as his palm smoothes along your thigh, "i will do whatever you want if you solve it before me,"

"i can try," you claim confidently and shift on his lap.

a gleeful light falls into his deep, black pupils when you agree, his lips curved up into a smile, "but don't get mad if i beat you!"

— lyney

"see? that's how you hide a card and make it appear again,"

lyney moves his fingers around the pack of cards with such frightening precision that you could evidently witness with fierce clarity that, well, you cannot possibly memorize this magic trick with the confused blur in your eyes— despite the fact that he has shown you the exact same trick three times in a row now.

you sigh out in defeat, your eyes skimming over his hands as you're both sitting on the couch next to each other, "I still don't get it," your words were breathless but liquid with embarrassment, even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about— because you see, lyney would never reveal a trick to anybody, not even to his significant other.

after all, it's a magicians greatest strength to keep their cunning mischiefs hidden away.

in fact, he only offered to show you because he really liked that befuddled look on your face, he finds it so cute, pretty and sweet.

a somewhat devious, but calm smile hovers on his face as he watches you in awe, one hand now lingering on your arm, a silent plea for you to stay.

"hm, you know what? let me look at it from a different view," you grin before tenderly kissing his cheek, "it's difficult watching from the side like that, you know?" then place a small peck on his jaw before working yourself towards his soft lips at last.

"can i sit on your lap?" you say and lyney almost whines at your request, a pretty sparkle on your eyes worsening his condition, your voice barely above a whisper.

on a surface level, you were dating lyney for quite a while now and were utterly aware that he was probably trying to confuse you with his magic tricks, and although you do not welcome it, you also did not mind because letting him confuse you wasn't necessarily a bad thing— since lyney would always become so confident and loving, not to mention excited to show and tell you more about his passion.

he blushes a little, an emotion such as this one was probably one of the only ones a magician of his caliber was unable to disguise.

"of course," lyney takes a deep breath before straightening his posture out, parting his arms so you could easily settle on his lap.

once you're on his lap, he kisses your shoulder before resting his head in the nook of your neck, "i'll start over now, you ready?"

"i am!" you retort back, "i will get it this time," as a lazy smirk spreads across your face before you begin to melt into his embrace.

— wriothesley

for you to be able to see each other as often as possible, you tend to visit wriothesley at work every now and then— sometimes you feel quite lonely since your boyfriend was always occupied with his job, so when you open the door to his office at last, he holds a benevolent presence on his demeanor, mirth possessing his eyes at the pure look of you walking into the room.

and to make this situation even sweeter, wriothesley shows you a tight-lipped, tender smile on his attractive face, delving into the soothing energy you always brought forth in him.

time seemed to stand still as your eyes met, and wriothesley immediately rises from his seat, cheeks flushing brightly, "you're finally here," his voice jovial-alike, so jovial that it set your entire tone for the day, "i was waiting for you, love,"

his walk was quick as he could barely wait to hug you— in fact, you honestly applaud him for how impossibly fast he has reached you as two muscular arms wrap around your body in no time, a silent language of shared passion being spoken.

"i'm sorry that i have kept you waiting, i'm a bit late, aren't i?" with a meaningful smile, you cup his cheeks before stroking the skin with your thumb.

lost in your eyes, wriothesley watches you through a soft look of through his thick lashes, "—oh, yeah? you did? i couldn't tell."

"but now that you're mentioning it, hm, how brave of you to keep me waiting like that," wriothesley utters in a fooling timbre, "—knowing that I've missed you all day," he continues to tease you before guiding you towards his desk by your hand.

on a normal day, the duke would offer you to sit on his office chair just because he finds it cute and somewhat hilarious— in fact, your cuteness in general was off the charts, it practically had its own gravitational pull.

you do not sit down and instead wrap your arms around his neck, "looks like someone's not quite perfect after all," wriothesley jokes in a tone that was warm and inviting, eliciting an immediate laugh from you.

you pout at him, "hey! if that's the case i'm taking my apology back right now,"

half jokingly, you avert your gaze as to tease him for once, although his overconfidence was like a blazing torch, nothing was capable to rush through it.

wriothesley keeps a prolonged eye contact with you so he could intensify the triumph over this situation, watching how you're crumbling first and losing the game, a playful wink adding a touch of humor to his jest.

"ouch, my love, you heart my heart crack right now?" the duke knits his eyebrows together as he kisses your forehead, his voice light with a hint of playfulness.

you roll your eyes, "hmpf, that's what you get."

the air was charged with a gentle, bubbly energy as wriothesley slightly pushes his office chair towards your direction to make you sit down— he believed you must be tired from today, in fact, the night was slowly approaching and he could tell by how often you'd yawn out.

you look at the chair before searching for your boyfriends eyes again, "is it okay if i sit on your lap instead?" you ask shyly, "i want to watch you work," certainly, that look on your face told him all he needed to know,

"—and cuddle," especially with that twinkle in your eyes.

"you sure? i might be unable to sit still," he grins, leaning closer to your ear before pulling you on to his lap, "make sure to keep your eyes wide open for me, no sleeping," wriothesley kisses your cheek, his voice a soft murmur that boiled the blood in your veins.

"working with me can be quite the handful, you know," he claims confidently, yet you weren't new to your boyfriend's manner of speaking— because you see, in secret he was hinting at something way different than you simply sitting on his lap.

— alhaitham

eyes fluttering shut, you lean against alhaitham's shoulder while your knee would nudge against his own ever so often, swaying from left to right.

it's this particular hour of the day again, where your boyfriend would read to you in the park, it's a simple date yet the both of you preferred it above everything else— it's the vibrancy of various petals decorating the nature that was boldly unique to you, surrounding your bodies so delicately and pure that you couldn't help yourself but feel weary due to the dainty scenery.

for some reason, you cannot keep your eyes open this time but proceeded to give your utmost best to keep your fatigue hidden from the scribe's eyes— granting the fact that he had figured it out the second he saw you.

it was utterly unfair, that's what it was, because there was nothing you cherished more then spending time with your boyfriend like that, in midst the sounds of cooing pigeons in the garden as  sun washes the garden with a golden glow.

alhaitham liked it to, especially reading his favorite books to you was something he thought was beneficial to the both of you. most importantly, he noticed how he was igniting an inner smile in your soul, that kind that burns warm and long, he loves that smile, he couldn't possibly become satiated by it ever.

in a fleeting moment, he places his warm palm against your knee, "hey, you're falling asleep," he claims, a little stoic, "we should head home so you can rest,"

no, please no, you yell inwardly before rubbing your eyes— every ounce of your remaining strength was dedicated to maintaining your eyes open and stay within this scenery a little longer.

"it's okay, i am fine, i promise," you panic, then yawn, yikes, what a way for your body to go behind your back.

hand in hand with your weary state of mind, you move your body before standing up to reclaim your energy, "you can keep reading to me, please, it was getting interesting,"

you're attempting to salvage just an ounce of this date, your eyebrows knitting together in displeasure as you yawn out again.

"i love listening to you."

"there's no point in that if you're falling asleep,"

alhaitham takes your hand, delicately pulling your body towards his own as to inspect your fatigued expression, "we can postpone this, the book isn't running anywhere and neither am i," he smiles gently, silently running his thumb along your knuckles so you'd calm yourself down a little, his homely trace sending a shiver down your spine.

without dissembling anything, it wasn't the book you feared to miss out on— in fact, it was about alhaitham himself. as the scribe of the akademiya he had always been busy and it could become very difficult to plan dates in advance.

to note that even after he might finish up his duties for the day a little earlier, he preferred to stay within the warm confines of his home which you did not mind either.

"alhaitham?" you heave out, something unspoken yet profound being exchanged as your body tests the waters by moving forward, "can i sit on your lap? that way i will surely stay awake, i promise."

alhaitham cocks a curious brow at you, "oh, you will?" he inquires as you nod your head, "in that case, please be my guest,"

the scribe shuffles in his seat as he spreads his legs a little, waiting for you to sit on his lap as one of his hands guide you down while the other held on to the beige-colored book.

the scribe looks at you through thick eyelashes, his face wholly relaxed as you loop one arm around his shoulders to steady yourself, your  lips contorting into a deep, happy smile.

"are you comfortable enough?" he asks as you shift your weight from one leg to another, "very much, thank you."

alhaitham holds you by your waist, strong enough that you could leisurely lean back without fearing of actually dropping on the ground. after figuring out a comfortable setting for the both of you, he flips his book open with one hand as your body subconsciously heats up at his tender palm rubbing circles on your waist.

a cool breeze swirls around you both when he resumes to the book like nothing has changed at all, his choice in tone dignified and unwavering as he reads the first paragraph to you, smiling at your sweet face when he notices how you were drifting into a much deeper sleep.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[baelarys]

𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

Aemond targaryen x Reader wife Velaryon

Word count: 3184

Warning: fluffy, Pregnancy.

Pt1 pt3 pt4

Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a cold wind that foretold the imminent arrival of winter. You felt the icy breeze cut through your cloak, forcing you to pull it tighter around your body. Unlike your previous two pregnancies, this one seemed to demand more of you; the weight of the life you carried within was beginning to take its toll. Your back constantly ached, your breasts were tense and sensitive, and your swollen feet barely supported the weight you had to bear.

As you walked through the castle halls, lost in thought, a sudden impact made you stagger. You barely had time to place a hand against the wall to avoid falling. As you looked down, you found Aerion on the ground, his small face lit up by a mischievous smile as he giggled. He quickly got to his feet, energetically brushing off his trousers, unconcerned by the slight reprimand he heard in the distance.

The septa approached hurriedly, a frown on her face and a look of evident disapproval. Her voice echoed through the hall as she called out to Aerion, but before she could reach him, the little prince ran toward you, clinging to your skirt for protection.

“Princess,” the septa greeted, bowing as she saw you. “The maester has insisted that you should return to your bed. Rest is the best thing for you in your condition.” Her stern gaze scrutinized the hallway, searching for the little prince who was now hiding behind you.

“That was just what I was thinking of doing,” you replied calmly, hearing Aerion’s faint laughter as he clung to your skirts.

You watched as the septa walked away down the hall, still calling out to the prince with a mix of patience and firmness. When the septa's figure disappeared from your sight, you slowly turned to Aerion. The boy looked up at you, his cheeks flushed red, still trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill over.

You couldn’t help but smile at your son’s innocent mischief. Despite the worries weighing on you, Aerion’s joy had the power to dispel any cloud hanging over your day.

“You’re a little rascal,” you said softly, as you gently stroked his head. “But you need to be more careful, you almost made me fall.”

Aerion nodded, and his smile lit up his face, revealing that perfect blend of innocence and mischief that you loved so much in him. Still chuckling softly, he took your hand with his small fingers, his laughter fading into a sigh of contentment.

“I want to stay with you, mama,” he said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

His words filled you with a warm tenderness. You knew you needed to rest, but your son’s desire to stay by your side was a request you could hardly refuse. His company, so sincere and selfless, was a comfort amidst the demanding burden you carried.

You bent down slightly to meet his eyes, looking at him with a maternal smile.

"You can stay with me for a while, but only if you promise to be quiet and let Mama rest," you whispered.

Aerion nodded enthusiastically, squeezing your hand more tightly, as if his desire to be with you was enough to protect you from any discomfort or pain. As you walked together toward your chambers, Aerion began to talk with the spontaneity of childhood, telling you about his lessons and how much they bored him. His voice, full of innocent complaints, filled the hallway.

As you closed the doors of your room behind you, you created a small refuge of tranquility, a space where you could allow yourself a respite from the worries that surrounded you. Aerion, freed from the need to stay calm, released your hand and ran excitedly to the corner where the steaming dragon egg rested on its cradle of metal and glowing stones.

However, a sudden, sharp pain shot through your body, pulling you out of the peaceful moment. The pain radiated from your back to your belly, forcing you to instinctively place your hands on your swollen abdomen in a protective gesture. Reality hit hard when you felt a warm, wet burst, and in that moment, the world seemed to stop.

The sound of your water breaking echoed in the room, like a prolonged reverberation in the silence, as the liquid spilled onto the floor, soaking the ground beneath your feet. An indescribable chill ran down your spine, as if in that precise instant, your soul had tried to leave your body, leaving you momentarily paralyzed.

Aerion, unaware of what had just happened, continued admiring the egg while you tried to gather the strength to stay calm. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on what you needed to do. You knew there was no time to waste; the birth was imminent.

"Aerion, come here," you called, keeping your voice firm yet gentle, not wanting to alarm him.

Your son turned his head toward you, sensing something unusual in your tone. The joy on his face faded, replaced by concern.

"Mama, what's wrong?" he asked as he walked toward you with small, cautious steps.

"I need you to find the septa and the maester, quickly," you said, caressing his cheek with a trembling hand. "The baby is ready to be born."

With effort, you began to walk slowly toward your bed, each step accompanied by the increasing pain that was becoming more insistent. When you reached the bed, you took a deep breath and called for your ladies, who, upon hearing the urgency in your voice, quickly came to your side. Without wasting a moment, they moved with the precision and skill that only experience could grant, helping you lie down and preparing you for childbirth.

Their hands worked carefully and swiftly, untying the laces and buttons of your dress, changing you into more comfortable garments that would ease the birth. Despite the storm of pain threatening to strip away your calm, their gestures were comforting.

"Take deep breaths, Princess," one of the ladies whispered as she helped you settle into the bed, her voice an anchor of calm amidst the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

The doors to your room burst open, and the maester entered, followed by several midwives, all moving with the speed and efficiency the situation demanded. Aerion, his face full of concern, ran to you, taking your hand in a gesture of support.

"It seems the baby has decided to come early," the maester remarked as the midwives began preparing everything necessary for the birth.

One of the midwives approached with more pillows to support your back, lifting you carefully to relieve the pressure on your belly. But the movement triggered a new wave of pain, and before you could stop it, a cry escaped your lips.

Aerion reacted immediately, his protective instinct awakened by seeing your suffering. He lunged toward the midwife, trying to push her away with his small hand.

"You're hurting her!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to come between you and the midwife.

The midwife, surprised by the child's reaction, paused and looked at you with a mix of respect and concern.

"Calm down, little prince," the midwife said softly, kneeling down to be at Aerion's eye level. "We don't want to hurt your mama. We're only trying to help her feel better."

"Aerion, sweetheart, everything is okay. They’re here to help us," you assured him, trying to calm his agitation.

The contractions came in waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving a trail of pain that spread through your entire body. You gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white under the tension as you fought to contain the screams of pain threatening to escape your throat. You didn’t want to scare Aerion, who stayed by your side, his small hand clutching yours.

Suddenly, in the midst of the chaos raging in your mind, a familiar voice broke through the torment.

“Y/N,” you heard Aemond call your name.

The sound of his voice was like a balm, a wave of relief that momentarily dispelled the pain. You turned your head, and seeing him, you felt something inside you calm down. Aemond, with an expression of concern tinged with love, quickly approached your side, taking your other hand with the security and firmness you had always known in him.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours as his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, his voice low and reassuring.

“Everything will be alright, my love. I’m here with you.”

You nodded with gratitude, thankful for Aemond’s comforting presence by your side. With each passing contraction, the pain seemed to stretch out in time, as if the hours were elongating into an endless trial. However, the maester, in his firm yet encouraging tone, finally spoke the words you had been waiting for.

“It’s time to push, Princess.”

Those words were both a relief and a new source of fear. You knew the hardest moment was yet to come, and although Aemond had been your constant support, you understood that Aerion’s presence in the room might complicate the situation even further. You needed everything to go well, both for the baby about to be born and for the child who was already the center of your world.

Taking a breath with difficulty, you turned your head toward Aemond, your eyes reflecting the mix of emotions you felt at that moment.

“Aemond,” you whispered, your voice laden with effort, “please take Aerion outside. He needs to stay calm… and so do you.”

Although it was evident he didn’t want to leave you, Aemond understood your concern. With a look that spoke of his desire to stay with you, he leaned in close, brushing your lips with a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured, his words an anchor for your spirit. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

With one last squeeze of your hand, he stood up and turned his attention to Aerion, who was still watching the scene with wide, worried eyes. Aemond walked over to his son and took his hand.

“Come, Aerion. Let’s wait outside for a moment,” he said gently.

Aerion hesitated, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. You forced a smile, despite the pain, and nodded, trying to convey confidence.

“Everything will be alright, sweetheart,” you assured him. “We’ll be together again soon.”

The little one, though still concerned, finally agreed, taking his father’s hand as they both headed toward the door. Aemond gave you one last look before leaving.

Once the door closed behind them, the atmosphere in the room changed. The seriousness and focus intensified as the midwives and the maester prepared for the birth. You felt a mix of emotions—fear, anticipation, and a deep determination—all fighting for control of your mind.

The maester leaned in toward you, with a calm expression that contrasted with the intensity of the moment.

“Princess, it’s time,” he said softly, his tone firm yet reassuring. “I need you to push with all your strength.”

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what you knew would be the greatest effort of your life. The pain, which had been constant, became even sharper, cutting through your breath as you struggled to follow the maester’s instructions. Your hands gripped the sheets, your muscles tensing in a supreme effort as you pushed with all your being.

The midwives, with quick and precise movements, offered you words of encouragement, their hands working diligently to assist you. You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead, every fiber of your being concentrated on bringing this new life into the world. The minutes stretched on in a succession of contractions and efforts, each more intense than the last, pushing you to the limits of your endurance.

The room, though filled with activity, became a closed and private space, where time seemed to distort. The maester guided you, his words calm and measured, while the midwives supported you, adjusting the pillows and keeping you as comfortable as possible. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pain and effort, the maester announced that he could see the baby's head.

"One more time, princess, just one more time," he encouraged, his voice filled with contained emotion.

With the little energy you had left, you gathered all your strength and pushed with fierce determination. The pain reached a climax, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensations until, suddenly, you felt an indescribable relief as the weight you had carried for months finally left your body.

A moment of silence fell over the room, followed by the most beautiful sound you could have imagined: the strong, clear cry of your newborn. Tears filled your eyes as you heard that first sign of life, and the midwives quickly wrapped the baby in warm blankets, bringing him close to you.

"You have been very brave, princess. You have brought a new Targaryen into the world."

With trembling hands and a pounding heart, you took your child into your arms. As you felt his warmth against your chest, all the pain and fatigue faded away, replaced by a love so intense you could hardly contain it. You looked at your baby's face, his soft hair and delicate skin, and in that moment, you knew that every second of effort had been worth it.

Your ladies, discreet and efficient, quickly restored order to the room. They swiftly cleaned the area, replaced the sheets, and helped you into a clean, soft gown. Though exhaustion weighed heavily on you, their careful hands made you feel comfortable, allowing you to focus solely on the little being you held.

One of the ladies took the newborn with great care to clean him, while you rested for a few moments, watching every movement with eyes full of love and wonder. When they returned him to you, wrapped in warm blankets, a wave of overwhelming emotion washed over you.

You looked at the child in your arms, noticing his delicate features, his hair already showing the shine of Targaryen heritage.

"Laenor," you whispered, the name leaving your lips with the softness of a prayer.

It was the name of your father, a man whose memory lived on in your heart, a brave leader and a loving father. Naming your son in his honor felt as natural as breathing.

The door to the room opened gently, and when you turned your head, you saw Aemond and Aerion entering. The little boy, without paying attention to the baby in your arms, ran towards you with the urgency of someone who had been holding back his worry. Aerion threw himself into your arms, and as soon as he did, you felt the warm tears running down his face as he hid his little face in the crook of your neck.

"Why are you crying, my love?" you asked in a whisper, gently stroking his small back while leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his wet cheek. "I'm alright."

Aerion sobbed softly, his little hands clinging to you tightly, as if he needed to make sure you were really there, safe and with him.

"I was scared, Mama," he admitted in a small voice. "I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you."

"I know, my little one," you murmured. "But everything is fine now. I’m here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Aemond, who had remained nearby, watched the scene with a mixture of pride and relief. He stepped forward, and with a careful gesture, placed a hand on Aerion’s shoulder, silently giving him support. When Aerion felt his father's presence, he finally looked up, his eyes still shining with the tears he hadn’t been able to hold back.

It was then that Aerion noticed the small figure in your arms. His big, curious eyes filled with wonder as he saw his younger brother for the first time. With the same caution children reserve for what they consider most precious, he approached slowly, almost as if he feared breaking something fragile.

"This is your little brother, Laenor," you said with a smile full of tenderness, gently tilting the newborn so Aerion could get a better look.

The little boy gazed at his brother with a mix of fascination and respect, as if he understood that this moment was sacred. With a timid gesture, he reached out his hand towards the baby, gently brushing his tiny hands.

"Hello, Laenor," Aerion whispered, his voice barely audible.

Aemond, with a look that spoke of pride and relief, leaned towards you, his lips meeting yours in a warm and comforting kiss. The connection between you was immediate, like a reaffirmation of the strength of your bond. You responded to the kiss with equal tenderness, feeling in that gesture a deep gratitude for the family you had built together.

"Mama," a small voice was heard at the entrance, soft but full of excitement.

Vaera appeared in the room, her eyes shining with the news she had just received. She wasn’t alone; Helaena followed closely behind, with her unmistakable aura of sweetness and serenity, smiling warmly at you as she saw you cradling the newborn. Just a step behind, Queen Alicent entered with Vaerys in her arms, her elegant bearing and maternal expression completing the family tableau that now filled the room.

"Look, Vaerys," Alicent said in a gentle tone, approaching so the little one could see the new member of the family. "You have a new little brother."

Vaerys, always curious and observant, looked at the baby with big, wide eyes full of wonder. Alicent leaned down slightly to allow little Vaerys to get a better view of Laenor, while Vaera, not wasting a moment, moved closer to your side, clearly fascinated by her new little brother.

"He’s so tiny," Vaera whispered, extending a small, delicate hand to softly touch Laenor’s cheek, her touch full of affection and care.

"He is," you agreed, your voice softened by the mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. "But he’ll grow strong, just like all of you."

With a smile full of confidence and tenderness, you handed the little Laenor to Aemond, who received him with the same delicacy one would treat a precious jewel. You watched as his hands, normally so skilled with a sword, now held his newborn son with an almost reverent care. In his eye, there was a silent pride, a pride that needed no words to be understood.

Aemond turned towards his mother and sister, bringing the baby closer so they could see him better. Alicent, upon gazing at her grandson, smiled with a warmth that softened her features even more, while Helaena, with her ever-serene gaze, extended a hand to gently caress Laenor’s cheek.

Finally, Aemond returned to your side, and together, you looked at Laenor, surrounded by the love and unity of your family. In that moment, everything seemed to be in its place; the arrival of Laenor had not only brought a new life into the world but had also strengthened the bonds that tied you all together.

[cloudcountry]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Vil, and Malleus x Reader, where they catch Reader trying to wear an item of their clothing?

SUMMARY: they catch you wearing their clothing!!

COMMENTS: i tried to pick out parts of their dorm uniform that would be easy to snatch and wear hehe

expect for malleus bc he got away from me LMAO

Riddle stops dead in his tracks when he sees you with his crown, trying your best to balance it on your head in front of his full-length mirror. His lips open and close, much like a fish out of water, and he knows Floyd would poke fun at him if he was here.

“Dearest, what are you doing?” he asks when he can finally get the words out, stepping into his dorm room and shutting the door quietly.

He left you alone for five minutes...

Leona leans against the doorway with his signature smirk as you clip on his necklace, the colorful mismatched beads clicking against your skin. He says nothing, drinking you in until you notice him in the mirror's reflection and jump.

You’re so cute when you get scared. Not that he’d ever tell you that straight up.

“What kind of mischief are you getting up to in here, huh?” he saunters in, hooking a finger under the necklace you’re wearing, “Playing dress up? I’m hurt you didn’t ask me to play with you.”

Jamil has so much jewelry, it's almost unthinkable. Each piece is more beautiful than the last so you’re so curious as to how they would feel! You’re super careful when you put on his bracelet and shoulder cuff, marveling at the snake design.

“What are you doing?”

You yelp, your favorite deadpan ringing through the air. Jamil stands in the doorway, looking at you with pure exasperation.

“Sorry! I just wanted to try on some of your stuff! I got curious.” you scramble to take it off.

“It looks nice on you.” Jamil says simply, and your fluttering heart stops you in your tracks.

Vil’s crown rests heavily on your head. It makes you wonder how he wears it all day, managing an entire door while maintaining such a flawless image. It does make you feel more powerful, or maybe it’s the feeling that you must straighten your back.

“My dove...what are you doing?” Vil asks, amusement in his voice as he appears behind you in the mirror.

“Nothing!” you snatch his crown off your head and hide it behind your back, leaving yourself looking frazzled.

Vil coos and smooths down your hair, before swiftly snatching the crown back from you with a mischievous smile.

Malleus watches from the doorway as you try on his gloves, inching them up your arms as his dorm uniform’s hat rests on your head. Something foreign rears its head within him, a desire to squeeze you tightly. It’s almost uncontrollable. Almost.

“Darling.” he breathes, brow furrowing with tender affection, “You look lovely.”

He brings you his coat, his pants, his shirt. He brings you everything and resizes it with his magic to fit you just right, until you look just like him.

TAGLISTS -> riddle's roses . . . @amaribelt @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> leona's napping buddies . . . @loser-jpg @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb

-> jamil's jewels . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> vil's spudlings . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb

-> malleus's most trusted . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @rosalianel @dove-da-birb

[seafarersdream]

Heck yeah Freddie Fox!!!!what if reader plays Gwayne and Alicent sister, but their chemistry is sooooo good that the creators had to cut their scenes together because "they're Hightowers, not Targaryens"🤣🤣🤣and the cast are having the time of their lives with that

Me and the Devil (Freddie Fox x Y/N)

Y/N L/N, who stars as Lady Eleanor Hightower, has an absolutely electric chemistry with her on-screen brother, Freddie Fox, who plays Ser Gwayne Hightower, much to the amusement and exasperation of the HOTD cast and crew.

TW // Strong language and profanities, incestuous undertones, sexual tension and innuendos.

The sun was rising behind the walls of the Red Keep, casting long, creeping shadows over the Outer Courtyard. Lady Eleanor Hightower, clad in the deep, grieving olive of her house, stood with an air of weary grace beside her sister, Dowager Queen Alicent. Her face was a picture of calm, though her eyes were heavy with the sorrow of loss and the weight of recent weeks.

“Do you think he’ll bring that dreadful horse again?” Eleanor asked, her voice soft but dripping with that sharp edge she never quite lost, even in mourning.

Alicent’s lips twitched, but she held her composure. "If he does, I’ll have it stabled outside the walls. I’m not having that beast piss all over the courtyard again."

The rumble of hooves on cobblestones drew their attention. The gates opened, and a column of knights in shining armor, bearing the sigil of House Hightower, entered the courtyard. At their head was Ser Gwayne Hightower, his helm tucked under one arm, revealing the tousled auburn hair and devil-may-care grin that Eleanor had grown so used to seeing—when he wasn’t hiding it behind an arrogant smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is. The fairest blooms of Oldtown,” Gwayne drawled, striding over like he owned all Seven Kingdoms. “Alicent, you’re still holding up the realm with that iron fist of yours. And Eleanor…” His eyes trailed over her, lingering just a fraction too long, “Looking every bit the grieving widow. Tell me, how does it feel to be free of that hideous arsehole, late Lord Hastwyck? May the Seven forgive him.”

Eleanor shot him a withering look, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. “About as good as it feels to watch you strut around like you haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Oh, fuck off, Ellie,” Freddie retorted, still in character, his grin widening. “Thought all that mourning might’ve taken the edge off your bite, but clearly, I was wrong.”

Eleanor arched an eyebrow, a smirk that could rival his playing on her lips. “And you, brother, seem as full of yourself as ever. Did the trip here inflate your ego even further?”

Gwayne grinned wider, flashing teeth. “Careful, little sister, or I’ll think you missed me.”

Alicent, tired of their verbal sparring, interjected. “Gwayne, you’ve arrived at an important time. Ser Criston Cole has replaced our father as Hand, and there is much work to be done.”

Gwayne’s grin faded into a sneer. “Ser Criston Cole? That jumped-up cunt of a knight? What, are we that desperate, we’re pulling nobodies out of the arse-end of the Kingsguard now?”

The crew, who had been trying to keep it together, finally lost it. Laughter rang out across the courtyard, cameramen shaking their heads as they tried to stay steady.

“Cut! Fucking hell, cut!” Geeta Patel called out, struggling to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She stepped forward, waving her hands as she approached the trio. “Alright, Freddie, Y/N, that was... Jesus Christ, that was incredible. But you’re not Jaime and Cersei Lannister, alright? You’re Hightowers. That kind of sibling chemistry doesn’t fly in this family. Tone down the ‘let’s fuck each other senseless’ vibes, okay?”

Freddie turned to Y/N, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Hear that, darling? We’re too bloody hot for Westeros.”

Geeta rolled her eyes, but she was smiling despite herself. “I swear, you two are going to give me aneurysm. Just... try to remember you’re siblings. No more of that smoldering shit. The Hightowers don’t do what the Targaryens do, alright?”

Freddie put on a mock-serious face, hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to be the picture of brotherly love. No more dirty looks, no more—“

“Smoldering looks, you tosser,” Y/N corrected, elbowing him in the ribs. “And good luck with that.”

The crew was still giggling, a few members openly impressed. “Honestly, we haven’t seen chemistry like this since Game of Thrones,” one of the grips muttered, shaking his head. “It’s fucking unreal.”

As Geeta returned to her chair, giving notes to the crew, Freddie leaned in closer to Y/N. “Honestly, how are we supposed to act like siblings when you keep giving me those eyes?”

Y/N shot him a sidelong glance. “You mean the same eyes you’re giving me right now? Don’t think I don’t notice.”

Freddie chuckled, his voice low enough that only Y/N could hear. “Well then how about we really give them something to talk about?”

Y/N swatted at him playfully. “Behave yourself, Fox. Or I’ll tell Geeta.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Before Freddie could fire back, Geeta’s voice rang out again. “Alright, enough banter, you two. Places! And for fuck’s sake, remember—you’re Hightowers, not Targaryens or Lannisters!”

Freddie straightened up, slipping back into his role as Ser Gwayne, but not before giving Y/N one last, devilish wink. “For now,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Y/N fought to keep her expression neutral, but the corners of her mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. She shot him a look that promised retribution later.

As the cameras rolled once more, they slipped effortlessly back into character, their banter sizzling with that same crackling chemistry that had the entire crew both laughing and marveling at just how damn good these two were together—siblings or not.

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On a different day, Geeta Patel was giving final instructions to Olivia Cooke and to Fabien Frankel. “Alright, Olivia, Fabien,” Geeta began, her tone calm. “This scene is all about the farewell. Criston, you’re asking for Alicent’s favor before you leave for war. This is a significant moment between you two. We need it to be subtle, yet powerful. Got it?”

Fabien nodded, his expression serious. “Got it, Geeta.”

Olivia smiled. “Ready when you are.”

Geeta gave them a satisfied nod and turned to the crew. “Okay, everyone, positions! Let’s make this one count.”

As the cameras rolled, Criston Cole approached Alicent with a grave expression, his armor gleaming in the dying light. He bowed low, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “Your Grace,” he began, his tone respectful, yet carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Alicent looked at him with those sharp, knowing eyes, giving him a slight nod. “May the Seven guide you, good knight,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “And lead you not to shadow and death.”

Criston bowed his head even lower, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I thank Your Grace for her prayers,” he replied, his voice filled with reverence.

Alicent turned as if to leave, her gown sweeping the stones with a soft rustle. But before she could take more than a step, Criston’s voice called her back. “And I would request,” he said, his words halting her in her tracks, ��that Her Grace grant me her favor. That her Lord Commander may go into battle with her blessings… in his heart.”

The scene hung heavy in the air, the tension thick between them as Criston’s plea echoed through the courtyard. Alicent hesitated, her hand brushing against the delicate fabric of her sleeve as she turned back to him, her eyes locking onto his. There was a moment of silence, a breath suspended in time, as everyone waited to see what she would do.

She finally reached into her sleeve, pulling out the small, delicate handkerchief embroidered with her initials. The camera zoomed in, capturing the intricate details, the way her fingers trembled just slightly as she held it out to him. “Take this,” she murmured, her voice carrying a subtle tremor, “as a token of my favor. Return victorious, Ser Criston. And know that you carry my thoughts with you.”

Criston bowed his head, taking the handkerchief. “Your Grace,” he replied, his voice rough, “I shall return with your favor in my heart and the victory of your cause in my hands.”

The scene was supposed to be the focal point of the episode—an understated farewell between the Dowager Queen and her paramour.

Or at least, that was the plan.

In the background, Eleanor and Gwayne were supposed to be having a far simpler exchange—just a quick farewell between siblings, nothing more.

The moment the camera panned to them, what was meant to be a brief, subdued farewell exploded into something far more dramatic.

“Eleanor, my sweet sister,” Gwayne declared, sweeping her up in an exaggerated embrace, his voice loud enough to carry across the courtyard. “How will I ever endure the horrors of war without your smile to guide me through the darkness?”

Y/N played right into it. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with fake tears. “Gwayne, you reckless fool, you’d better come back to me—or I swear I’ll hunt you down myself.”

The crew exchanged glances, trying desperately to keep their laughter in check as the two continued to ad-lib their way through what was supposed to be a simple goodbye.

Gwayne placed a hand on Eleanor’s cheek, his expression one of melodramatic intensity. “If I do not return, tell the world I died with your name on my lips.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” someone from the crew muttered, barely audible over the sound of snickering.

Geeta Patel, perched in her director’s chair, pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Cut! CUT!” she finally called out, though her voice was tinged with reluctant amusement. “Freddie, Y/N, what the bloody hell was that? You’re supposed to be siblings, not star-crossed lovers.”

Freddie turned to Y/N with a grin that could only be described as wicked. “Sorry, Geeta, got a bit carried away there. Can you blame me? Look at her—who wouldn’t fall madly in love?”

Y/N smirked, not missing a beat. “Don’t flatter yourself, Fox. It’s called acting.”

Geeta threw up her hands in defeat. “I swear, you two are the bane of my existence. How am I supposed to get a serious scene out of you when you keep turning everything into a bloody pantomime?”

The crew was struggling to keep it together. Even Olivia, standing nearby as Alicent, was biting her lip, trying to stay in character despite the ridiculousness happening behind her.

Freddie chuckled. “Geeta, darling, I think what we’re doing here is revolutionary.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, though she was clearly enjoying herself. “What he’s trying to say, Geeta, is that we’re just too damn good together. Maybe it’s time to change the script.”

“Or maybe,” Geeta retorted, her tone playful despite her frustration, “you two could try actually sticking to the script for once. I’m pretty sure HBO isn’t paying you to improvise a Lannister-style farewell.”

Freddie turned to Y/N, pretending to consider it. “What do you think, Eleanor? Should we behave ourselves this time?”

Y/N gave a mock sigh, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her costume. “I suppose we could try.”

Geeta couldn’t help but shake her head as she gestured for the crew to reset. “Alright, let’s take it from the top. And this time, keep it in your pants, Hightower freaks.”

Cameras rolled once more, the scene resumed, with Criston and Alicent taking center stage as intended from the start.

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The camera opens on a sleek, modern studio set, the familiar logo of Max glowing softly in the background. Y/N and Freddie are seated side by side, relaxed and comfortable, both dressed casually but stylishly—Y/N in a chic blouse and jeans, Freddie in his usual mix of sharp yet slightly rumpled attire.

The interviewer, a young woman with a cheerful demeanor, smiled warmly at them. “Thank you both for joining us today. Why don’t we start with some introductions?”

“Hello, everyone! I’m Y/N L/N, and I play Lady Eleanor Hightower on House of the Dragon,” Y/N says, her voice smooth and confident as she introduces herself.

Freddie chimes in right after. “And I’m Freddie Fox, and I play Ser Gwayne Hightower, Eleanor’s incredibly charming, dashingly handsome older brother.”

Y/N snorts, nudging him with her elbow. “You forgot modest, Freddie. Always so modest.”

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying their banter. “It’s great to have you both here. So, as you know, House of the Dragon has a massive fandom, and one of the things they love to do is theorize and create ships outside of the canon. They really get invested in the chemistry between characters—and, let’s be honest, between the actors as well.”

Freddie and Y/N exchange a look, both trying to suppress knowing smiles.

The interviewer continues with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, naturally, people are starting to wonder—could we be seeing the next Kit Harington and Rose Leslie? You know, screen partners turning into real-life partners?”

Freddie, never one to miss an opportunity for a bit of fun, suddenly turned in his seat, getting down on one knee in front of Y/N. With an exaggeratedly serious expression, he took her hand. “Y/N, dearest Lady Eleanor, would you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife? I promise to annoy you, to steal your snacks, and to outshine you in every single scene we ever do together.”

Y/N bursts out laughing, placing a hand over her heart as if genuinely touched. “Oh, Freddie, how could I ever say no to such a heartfelt proposal? But I must warn you—I take up all the covers at night, and I’m not above hiding the remote if you try to switch to football during one of our movie nights.”

The interviewer is cracking up now, along with the crew behind the cameras. “I didn’t expect this, but I’m loving it! You two are absolutely priceless.”

Freddie stood up, still holding Y/N’s hand, and they both gave a bow to the camera. “Well, you know," he says, turning back to the interviewer, “it’s all about keeping the fans on their toes. Can’t make it too easy for them to figure out what’s going on, right?”

Y/N grins. “Exactly. We like to keep things... interesting.”

The interviewer, still grinning, leans in. “So, should we start planning the wedding, or...?”

Freddie looked thoughtfully at Y/N, tapping his chin. “Well, we’re thinking of something small. Just us, a couple of dragons, and maybe a White Walker to officiate. Keep it intimate, you know?”

Y/N nodded sagely. “Very exclusive. Only the crème de la crème of Westeros.”

The interviewer shakes her head, thoroughly entertained. “Okay, okay, I think we’ve just given the fandom even more fuel for their theories! On a serious note, though, it’s clear you two have incredible chemistry. What’s it like working together on set?”

Y/N smiled warmly at Freddie before answering. “Honestly, it’s a blast. Freddie and I just click, and I think that shows on screen. We’ve got a great rapport, and it’s always fun bringing these characters to life together.”

Freddie nodded, adding, “Yeah, we give each other a lot of shit, but that’s part of what makes it work. We trust each other, and that allows us to really push the boundaries in our scenes—sometimes a bit too much, according to Geeta,” he added with a wink.

The interviewer wraps it up, still chuckling. “Well, it’s been an absolute blast talking with you both. Can’t wait to see what chaos you bring to House of the Dragon next season.”

As the camera pulls back and the lights dim, Freddie and Y/N share a quick, conspiratorial glance, knowing they’d just given the fandom more than enough to talk about—and probably a few new fanfics to write as well.

When the interview dropped on the internet, the fandom absolutely exploded. Social media was flooded with clips of Freddie’s mock proposal, and the internet lost its collective mind.

Fans were dissecting every moment of the interview, from the playful banter to the way Freddie had gazed up at Y/N during his over-the-top proposal. The comments sections were filled with fans declaring that they were “shipping” the two even harder now, some even demanding that someone should cast them both in a romcom.

Amid the chaos, Y/N decided to fan the flames a bit more. She posted a cheeky selfie on Instagram, looking effortlessly stunning as always, with a caption that read, “The coolest of the Hightower siblings.”

It didn’t take long for Freddie to jump in on the fun. He reposted her selfie to his own Instagram story, adding the caption, “THE future Mrs. Fox.”

The internet went into overdrive. Fans were tagging each other, sharing screenshots, and even their House of the Dragon co-stars started chiming in with their own comments, playing along with the joke. The whole thing had taken on a life of its own, and it was clear that Y/N and Freddie had become the fandom’s favorite new obsession.

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During a press event, when Rhys Ifans, the man behind Otto Hightower, was asked about his thoughts on Freddie and Y/N’s antics, his face split into a wide, unabashed grin.

“Well, as Otto,” he began, dropping into character with a serious tone, “I have to say, it’s a major fucking ick. Completely inappropriate! Gwayne and Eleanor getting all... cozy? That would make Otto want to strangle someone. He’d be straight to the quill, penning some strongly worded letters to sort that shit out.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, knowing exactly how Otto Hightower would react to such scandal.

“But as Rhys?” he continued, his tone shifting to one of genuine enthusiasm, “I’m all in! I mean, have you seen those two together? The chemistry is off the bloody charts! If they don’t end up getting married after all this, I’ll be sorely disappointed. They’re perfect for each other—on and off the screen.”

His lighthearted comment sent the room into a ripple of laughter, with everyone loving the idea of Rhys being a secret shipper of Freddie and Y/N.

Within hours, his quote—“Ick as Otto, but fuck yes as Rhys!”—became the battle cry of the fandom, plastered across memes, gifs, and fan art that flooded every corner of the internet. It wasn't just spreading; it was detonating.

The whole situation exploded into a full-blown phenomenon, with fans practically canonizing Rhys as the unofficial president of the Freddie and Y/N ship. People started tagging him in everything, from wild fan theories to NSFW fanfiction, with captions like “Rhys would approve” or “Otto hates it, but Rhys lives for it.”

It was unhinged, chaotic, and utterly glorious. Rhys’s endorsement didn’t just add fuel to the fire; it threw in a grenade, making the whole thing go nuclear.

[moonstruckme]

hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!

Thanks sweetheart, love you!

cw: alcohol

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words

You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days. 

“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.” 

“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space. 

James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him. 

You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.” 

James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.

“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly. 

You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?” 

He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.” 

A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?” 

Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.” 

He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve. 

“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.” 

“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.” 

“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.” 

“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.” 

Your mouth drops open. “James!” 

Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.” 

Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair. 

Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.” 

Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons. 

“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either. 

“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.” 

Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 

“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.” 

“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display. 

James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.

“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.” 

“Thank you, Moony,” James croons. 

Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?” 

He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow. 

“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.” 

“Oh, right!” 

[awizix]

name: anti stress

character: nanami kento (jujutsu kaisen)

tags?: afab! reader, 18+, face sitting, handjob, it's so soft what the hell, petnames (love), reader isn't shaved (i said it.), being gentle and soft together.

words: around 2,3k

notes: nanami kento.......this man is always on my mind. my roman impire. i just wanted to write something about him so bad oh my god (and i did it with not one but two hands wow) + english isn't my first language

it's friday night.

you close the apartment door behind you as you let out a deep sigh. this day was a hell on earth, you're sure of it. you awkwardly take off your heels, carelessly tossing them on the doormat — you'll put them away later, you're too tired to care about it. (kento will probably do it himself — he always looks after you and your belongings).

you ungraciously walk to the kitchen in this pencil skirt that doesn't allow you to take bigger than normal steps and put boxes with take out food on the counter. it's 9:41 pm. a bit earlier kento sent a message asking what would you want for dinner but you replied that you will get take out today — you know this week was just as hard for him as it was for you. probably even harder so you said he shouldn't cook tonight or he might pass out from standing too much.

you walk towards living room as it's the only room with a light on (you know it's the lamp near tv that gives off warm, not too bright light — kento's eyes can get really tired by the end of the day).

you immediately notice him as you enter the room and even in your tired state a small smile appears on your face. he's sitting on the floor, with his back supported by the couch and his head laying on the soft cushion. he's still in his work suit and white shirt (even though now his clothes are all wrinkled from the long day). you notice a bowl with water on the coffee table near by and a wet cloth covering his eyes. you can see that he noticed your presence as well, slightly turning his face to you. you take off your jacket and throw it on the couch as you make your way towards him and slide to the floor, pressing yourself against him.

you both sigh at the contact, finally reunited after this hell of a day. you gently take the wet cloth as you start carefully wipe the excess water on his face and throw it back in the bowl. kento opens his eyes, these hazel orbs looking at you lovingly as he says "welcome home, love". you smile as your palms find their place on his face, gently caressing his stubble. the sensation isn't unpleasant under your fingertips, but you'll help him to shave in the morning. now? you don't want to move from the floor at all.

you get closer to his face and kiss him softly — a completely chaste kiss, just to feel each over, to relax and ground yourselves. he answers willingly, his strong hands grabbing your waist, squeezing and pulling your body closer. he mumbles, a slight mischief in his voice, "tired day?". you giggle as you hide your face in his chest.

he knows it was. the whole week was busy — you with your additional project at work and kento wish missions, reports and meetings. you almost haven't seen each other at all this week, only exchanging quick sleepy kisses as kento was leaving too early in the morning for you to be up and you coming home too late to find him already sleeping in the bed. but it's friday. with whole two days of rest ahead.

so you say, quietly and smiling "a whole week, you can say". you massage the back of his neck, occasionally touching short hair of his undercut and he groans at the feeling. you ask him, unable to hide concern in your voice, "how are you feeling?". you know he works so hard sometimes, coming home with dark bags underneath his eyes and bruised body. he rolls his head back on the couch, closing his eyes, as he answers, "just tired. mission took longer than it was planned. but I'm unharmed".

you smile as your hands travel to his broad shoulders and god, you can't keep your hands off this man. even through layers of fabric you can feel his muscles and power hidden in his body. "can i do something? to help you to relax?"

kento is silent for a moment. "yes"

you angle your head, even if he can't see that. you hum, "hm?". you can make him his favourite tea or give him a massage (you read about it online just for him). so you expect something like that, not...

"sit on my face".

you blink several times and shake your head in disbelief. have you.... heard it correctly? "what?". suddenly, with his hands still on your waist, he tugs you closer and you almost fall on him but he holds you firmly but carefully like the most expensive treasure. your face is so close to his and he whispers into your lips, "sit on my face. please, love".

his hands start caressing your back, slowly running up and down, and your body runs hot on autopilot as a response to his touch. but then he kisses you and your mind goes blank — this kiss is nothing like the previous one. it's hot and wet as he licks your lips and his tongue enters your mouth. one of his hands presses your cheeks together, urging you to open your mouth wider and you comply as you moan instantly, feeling him sucking on your tongue.

he breaks a kiss and you look at him, breathless, your chest heaving, "i... i thought you were tired". he hums, his hot hands now exploring the front of your body through your work shirt — he slides them from your exposed neck to your breasts, palming them through your bra, lower to your soft stomach and then up again. "and this is exactly what will help me to relax".

you swallow hard. gosh, he's impossible. you use his shoulders for leverage as you try to get up, "okay, okay. just give me 10 minutes? I'll shower and then..."

"no. don't".

you look at him, puzzled, "hm? what? what do you mean?"

his wandering hands slide lower, gripping your ass as he says, "want you right now. here".

you smile at him, gently shaking your head, "kento, love, i took a shower in the morning but i spent the whole day on my feet, okay? I'm probably sweaty and...".

"and i want you just like that", kento's raspy voice interrupts you. you look at him, his gaze serious but full of desire and want, his pupils dilated with lust pooling in them. you whisper, "are you... are you sure?".

"yes, I'm sure".

you get up, still nervous but with unmistakable heat burning between your thighs. you start pulling your pencil skirt down as kento's hands gently brush against the back of your calfs. next, you tug down your sheer tights and simple cotton underwear and kento groans at the sight of your pussy, "fuck, thought about this beauty the whole week". he pulls you closer as he starts leaving hot wet kisses on your thighs, getting closer and closer to your heat. there, he inhales deeply and moans. you feel blood rushing to your face as you mumble, "kento, oh my god...".

he looks up at you with a small smile as he plants several kisses to the dark patch of hair. you moan — both at the feeling and how unbelievable he is — as you gently caress his hair. he rolls his head back, laying it on the couch and gently slaps your thighs, "come on. get on, love".

you silently follow his order, getting on the couch facing its back, with his head between your parted legs. his strong arms hug your thighs as he pulls you lower and lower until you're completely seated. a shudder runs through you at the feeling of his stubble gently brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

you grip the back of the couch until it hurts a little as you feel his hot tongue pressed completely flat against your womanhood as he starts licking you. he sucks on your folds and teases your clit with a pointed end of his tongue — you start rocking involuntarily, but kento's hands just squeeze harder, locking you in the place.

you whine and mewl as he keeps licking, sucking and kissing — you're so wet you can hear slurps and squelches. you start impatiently unbuttoning your shirt, fingers shaking and not listening too well. halfway through, you grow annoyed and with just a half of buttons undone, you take it off through you head, throwing in on the couch somewhere. you quickly take off your bra and a loud moan erupts from you as you grab your tits, gently rolling perky nipples between your own fingers.

you whine and shut your eyes as you imagine what he looks like — still in his suit, with his incredible dick out, gently palming himself as he smears precum on the soft skin and brings you closer to the cloud 9 with his wonderful hot tongue.

kento's hands disappear from their place on your thighs and with newfound freedom you can't help but start riding his face, just a little, just a bit of back and forth. after a moment you hear a zipper being pulled down, rustling of fabric and feel kento letting out a dreamy sigh, hot air hitting your sensitive folds, as he starts stroking himself.

kento's free hand slides higher, joining yours in palming and massaging your tits as his wet tongue starts entering you that makes your thighs shake. he gently bites your folds and you arch with a loud mewl, parting your legs even wider in your attempt to get his face even closer to your heat. he pinches your nipples softly that earns a loud shriek from you and you can feel him smirking.

you get closer and closer to your orgasm from his skillful movements and as he angles his face so he good plunge his tongue deep into you with his nose pressing against your cute clit and you suddenly cum with a silent moan. your thighs press together, shaking, trapping his head between them but it seems he doesn't mind in the slightest as he eagerly drinks your juices, licking you clean.

you're panting like you just ran a maraphon as you guide your shaking hair to his head — still between your thighs — to softly pat his hair. you look down and by the creases around his eyes you know kento's smiling. you gigle as you get up with a wet sound and slide lower to find your place on his lap as he still slowly strokes himself.

you start unbuttoning his shirt as he keeps his pace — he's close, but he's not in a hurry. you kiss him, wet and hot, as you finally get your hands on his hard chest and stomach. you almost purr as your hands glide lower and accidently touch his hard cock. you smile in the kiss as you put your hand on top of his moving one, your fingertips gently carassing his hot dick. your other hand is softly rubbing his velvet skin, coated with a thin layer of sweat. you can feel a rapid heartbeat under your palm and the way his lungs expand with each inhale. you gently caress his hardened nipples and he groans in your mouth.

he lets go of the hold on the dick, allowing you to take the reins as his hands start touching your body, gently caressing your sides but almost aggresively grabbing and sqeezing your tits. you whine pitifully as you wrap your hand around him, gripping him firmly and stroking him fast — just the way kento loves. you break the kiss, you two looking at each other and breathing the same air. you feel muscles of his abs tightening under your fingertips as you whisper breathly, "like that?". he's nodding as he guides your body closer to him, your moving hand now trapped between your bodies. "yeah....fuck, yeah, like that. just.....just touch the head".

you hum and move your palm to the mushroom like head of his dick, wrapping a tight circle around it as you start stroking him there — firmly and vigorously. that earns you a low moan from kento as his head rolls back, exposing his sensetive neck and you can't help yourself as you start kissing his salty skin, marking him lightly and gently biting his adam's apple.

a minute later he groans, eyes shut and his body tensed, as he cums with his warm seed getting on his chest and stomach as well as your fingers. you slow down your movements, helping him to ride his high and milking him. after several moments you retrieve your hand to grab a wet cloth from the bowl. you clean your hand and carefully wipe kento's body as his tired gentle eyes follow your every movement. you throw it back in the bowl and he pulls you closer, his hands secure around your waist.

he kisses you then, deeply but without any heat — only love and gratitude. you gigle quietly, breaking the kiss and looking at him warmly. he smiles at you, "thank you, love".

"feel better?".

"so much better".

you raise your hands and stretch, muscles tensing for a moment but relaxing a second later. unbeknownst to you, kento's gaze glides on your body — soft tummy and the way your tits move. you're so beautiful. he kisses the place between your breasts and you laugh softly. he whispers, "i love you".

you gently caress his face, "love you too".

"shower?".

"oh my god, yes".

P.S. istg if he was real i would have to be put down like a feral animal.

[idkyetxoxo]

Daemon Targaryen - Interrupted Desires

Summary - Daemon sweeps in, eager to reclaim his wife's attention but their evening takes a turn when their children interrupt with a grievance. What begins as an intimate night becomes a family affair, with a dagger and ruined doll causing more trouble than Daemon ever anticipated.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2271

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Ah, my beautiful wife," Daemon purred as he swept into our chambers, his presence crackling with an energy that felt wildly out of place given the lateness of the hour.

The door clicked shut behind him, sealing us in our private world as his eyes locked onto mine with that familiar gleam, full of mischief and something far more dangerous.

He moved with the easy grace of a predator, his steps far too lively, almost impatient, for a man who should have been ready to wind down for the night.

Yet, there was something intoxicating about the way he carried himself—like he had the world at his feet and knew it.

I paused in the middle of securing my braid, my fingers halting mid-twist as I turned my gaze to him, eyeing him with playful suspicion.

Daemon was never one to hide his intentions, but the thrill of guessing his next move always sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

"What have you done now?" I asked, my voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and exasperation, though a small smile tugged at my lips.

With Daemon, trouble was never far behind, and his version of mischief could be anything from sneaking out in the dead of night to more... enticing forms of trouble.

"Why must you always assume I've done something wrong?" he countered smoothly, that wicked grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he closed the distance between us.

His words were light, teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrayed his true intentions. His gaze roamed over me, taking in every detail as if I were some forbidden fruit he couldn't wait to taste.

Before I could respond, he reached out and grabbed my hands, the touch electrifying.

The ribbon I had been carefully threading through my hair slipped from my fingers as if it had a will of its own, and my freshly woven braid unravelled in an instant, my hair tumbling free.

His smirk deepened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he watched the chaos he'd just caused.

"Daemon!" I groaned, frustration laced through my voice, but I could already feel my resolve slipping.

The sight of him, the energy crackling between us, made it impossible to stay annoyed. His touch, as always, was my undoing.

With an almost careless flick, he shook out my hair, letting it cascade down my back. He loved it when my hair was loose, wild, and he wasn't shy about showing it.

The smug satisfaction on his face was unmistakable.

"Why so glum, my love?" he whispered, his voice low and velvety as he stepped closer, his lips brushing along the curve of my jaw.

Each kiss was light as air, but they left a trail of fire in their wake, coaxing a reluctant sigh from my lips.

I tried, truly, to stay annoyed with him, but as his mouth moved over my skin, teasing and gentle, I found myself softening under his touch.

My body leaned into him of its own accord, drawn to him like a moth to flame. His scent, the heat of him, the way his fingers slid against my skin—it was all too much, too intoxicating.

"So," I murmured, barely able to keep the teasing edge in my voice, "this is why you're so... enthusiastic tonight."

I tilted my head, giving him better access as he trailed kisses down my neck, his breath warm against my skin. "You're hoping to get lucky."

The teasing lilt in my voice was met with a rumble of amusement from him, but it didn't stop his lips from continuing their slow, deliberate path down to my collarbone.

Daemon pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his lips brushing against the hollow of my throat before he frowned theatrically, his expression one of mock offence.

"Lucky?" he repeated, as though the word itself was beneath him.

Then, with a dramatic shrug, he added, "Is it such a crime to want to spend the night with my beautiful, naked wife in my arms?"

His voice had dropped an octave, deep and rough, as his fingers toyed with the strap of my nightgown, tugging on it gently, threatening to reveal more of me to his hungry gaze.

My breath hitched as his lips moved lower, grazing over the delicate skin of my collarbone, lingering just long enough to make my pulse quicken.

"It has been far too long," he hummed, his words vibrating against my skin as I tangled my fingers in his silver hair, each stroke sending a jolt through me.

I let out a soft laugh, remembering our morning together. "Did you forget about yesterday?" I teased, though my voice was breathy, the heat between us unmistakable.

His chuckle was low and sinful, the sound curling deep in my belly.

"Far too long," he repeated, his tone turning serious as his lips ghosted over my skin, every touch deliberate, making it impossible to think about anything else but him.

He was right, though.

No matter how often we were together, with Daemon, it was never enough.

Before I could utter another word, he scooped me up effortlessly, his strong hands gripping the backs of my thighs as he lifted me from the floor.

My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he carried me toward the bed, his mouth still busy, trailing kisses along my throat and jaw.

"Beautiful, beautiful woman," he muttered between kisses, the words almost reverent.

I couldn't help but giggle at the feel of his lips against my skin, the way he worshipped me with every touch.

The heat between us was palpable, my pulse racing as his hands roamed over me, his kisses deepening, pulling me further into the haze of desire.

But just as the moment was about to shift into something more, a loud thud echoed through the room.

I jerked in surprise, the sound snapping me out of the spell Daemon had so expertly woven around me.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked toward the door, my mind struggling to catch up with what was happening.

Daemon, however, didn't even flinch.

His mouth continued its relentless assault on my neck, his hands firmly holding me as if the interruption was of no concern to him. He had no intention of stopping.

That is, until the unmistakable creak of the door opening.

"Mommy!" A small but fierce voice shrieked from the doorway, causing me to gasp and push Daemon away, much to his groaning displeasure.

He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly disgruntled at the interruption.

Daemon, the ever-persistent lover a moment ago, now sat back with a defeated huff as if this were the greatest tragedy of the night.

His smouldering gaze transformed into that of a man staring down the inevitable chaos of fatherhood. "Of all the times," he muttered, "this is when they choose to storm the gates?"

I sat up quickly, smoothing down the rumpled fabric of my nightgown as I stared at the intruders. Our three children stood in the doorway, wide-eyed.

Our youngest, Aerea, stood at the front, hands on her hips, her small face twisted into a fierce scowl.

Her two older brothers, Vaegon and Baelon, stood behind her, desperately trying and failing to stifle their laughter.

"What is it, my love?" I asked, as Aerea stormed into the room, her tiny feet stomping with indignation as she made her way to the bed.

She began climbing up, her frustration clear as she struggled, but she was determined, barely giving a second thought to what she might have interrupted.

Daemon let out a long, weary sigh beside me. "And to think," he muttered, rubbing his temples dramatically, "I almost had a quiet night with my beautiful wife."

I shot him a knowing look as our fiery little girl finally made her way onto the bed, demanding my attention with the same fervour her father had mere moments before.

Whatever she had come to complain about was bound to be serious—at least, in her mind.

"And what has you so upset, princess?" I asked, my hand smoothing over her wild curls as her brothers continued to snicker from the doorway, clearly entertained by their little sister's theatrics.

She turned to me with an exaggerated pout, her little hands clenched into fists, clearly on the verge of an outburst. "Mommy," she whined, "look what they did!"

Her two older brothers, Vaegon and Baelon, still lingering by the doorway, exchanged guilty glances, their lips pressed tightly together as they tried, once again, to stifle their laughter.

They weren't fooling anyone. Vaegon, the eldest by only a few minutes, nudged Baelon, who finally cracked a grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

I sighed, brushing Aerea's unruly curls from her face. "What happened, my love?"

Aerea, always dramatic, held up her beloved doll, its once long, flowing hair now an uneven, jagged mess.

"They cut off all her hair!" she gasped, her voice filled with outrage. She whipped her head toward her brothers, eyes wide in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

The boys shifted awkwardly, their bravado faltering under her furious gaze. Vaegon nudged Baelon again, prompting him to speak.

"It wasn't—um—that bad," Baelon mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words. "We just, uh... used the dagger Father gave us."

My eyes widened in shock, and I quickly turned to Daemon, who was now sitting up beside me, his face frozen in a mixture of disbelief and mild amusement.

He stared at his sons, his jaw tight as if trying to decide whether to laugh or scold them.

I blinked at Daemon, incredulous. "Dagger? You gave them a dagger?"

Daemon raised his hands defensively, his silver hair tumbling forward slightly as he looked between the boys and me.

"I explicitly told you two not to tell your mother!" he said, his voice filled with a tone of mock accusation, more to the boys than me.

Vaegon and Baelon both shuffled on their feet, suddenly very interested in the floor.

"Daemon!" I shrieked, my hand shooting out to smack his arm. "They're six! You gave them a dagger, and they're six summers old?"

Daemon winced slightly at my tone but quickly recovered, giving me a casual shrug as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I was doing far worse at their age," he muttered under his breath, leaning back against the headboard with that ever-present smirk on his lips. "Besides, it's a small dagger."

I could feel my blood levels rising as I glared at him.

"That's not the point, Daemon!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mounting frustration.

"Far worse? I don't even want to know what you were doing at their age! But they—" I pointed at the boys, who were now pretending to be invisible—"are not you!"

Aerea, meanwhile, had her arms crossed over her chest, clearly not done with her grievance.

"They ruined her hair!" she snapped, holding up her poor doll again for emphasis as if to remind us all of the true crime that had taken place here.

Daemon glanced at Aerea's doll, his lips twitching as though he were trying to hold back a laugh. "Ah," he said, a mock-serious tone creeping into his voice, "a true tragedy."

"It is!" Aerea huffed, her little face scrunched up in righteous indignation.

Daemon, ever the master of distractions, leaned over and ruffled her curls gently. "I'll get you a new one with even longer hair, my little dragon," he promised, his voice softening just enough to melt Aerea's fury.

She still glared at her brothers, but the fire had dulled, replaced by the allure of a new doll.

I watched the exchange, exasperated yet unsurprised. Of course, Daemon would find a way to diffuse the situation by making her a promise she couldn't resist.

But that didn't change the fact that our twin boys had somehow gotten their hands on a real dagger.

"I can't believe you, Daemon," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.

Daemon's hand slid up to the back of his neck, rubbing it absently as he gave me one of those lopsided grins that he knew I could never stay mad at.

"What?" he said with a playful shrug. "I've taught them how to handle it properly."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Vaegon and Baelon, who had been watching the exchange closely, chimed in, voices overlapping.

"Yeah, Father showed us how to hold it!" Vaegon said proudly, puffing out his small chest. "We know what to do!"

"And what not to do," Baelon added, shooting a glance at Aerea's doll. "Mostly."

I shot Daemon a look that could cut through steel. "And they used it to cut off their sister's doll's hair. Clearly, they've mastered the art of responsibility."

Daemon finally let out a bark of laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. "It's a start," he said with a wink, completely unapologetic.

I shook my head again, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "You're impossible," I muttered under my breath.

But even as I tried to stay stern, I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation too ridiculous to ignore.

Aerea climbed into my lap, clearly satisfied with the promise of a new doll, while Vaegon and Baelon stood by the door, triumphant smirks on their faces as if they had just survived a grand battle.

Daemon, with his typical irreverence, leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. "See? All's well that ends well."

I rolled my eyes, but leaned into him nonetheless, because for all his madness, Daemon had a way of making even the most chaotic nights somehow perfect.

A/n - I reread stormlit promises for fun and this idea popped into my head so I knew I had to get it down!!

[redvexillum]

Dedicated to my fluff-loving friend, Ms. 🍑. I'm getting whiplash. The last four days were probably the darkest and smuttiest writing I've done - and today, it's ...fluff to the max. I stuffed all the fluff in my mouth. I want this story to be so fluffy that I become fluffy.

 A smile was said to be worth a thousand words, a silent language that could light up the room, soothe others, or even hide the darkest of truths.  

But what did it mean if you couldn’t smile? If every time you tried, your lips refused to cooperate, did that make you worthless? 

All your life, people said the same thing: “Just smile, honey.” And when you didn’t, they assumed you were upset, angry, or just a frigid bitch. 

But that wasn’t it. It was never that simple. You weren't upset, at least not in the way they thought.  

So, you started practising, standing in front of the mirror day by day, willing yourself to smile. You’d stretch your lips upwards, trying to mould them into something that looked natural. But the face that stared back at you was wrong.  

It didn’t look like you.  

The curve of your lips felt forced, your eyes not lighting up the way they were supposed to. The reflection almost mocked you with its emptiness, the smile looking more like a grimace, a mask of something false.   

And you hated it.  

You hated how fake it felt, how alien it looked. It didn’t bring you any joy, just a hollow, bitter taste.  

If a smile was truly worth a thousand words, then maybe yours was worth nothing at all. 

Alastor had spent months trying to coax a smile out of you. When you first arrived at the hotel, your lips were a perfect, unyielding line, your eyes flat and devoid of any spark. At first, he paid you no mind. The hotel was bustling, full of fresh souls seeking redemption, and he had no shortage of entertainment.  

The “Princess’ Redemption Program,” as much as it irked him, was thriving. There were countless other residents, and yet...you stood out, your lack of expression gnawing at him more than he’d care to admit.  

He didn’t like you – not at first. While others laughed and grinned, you remained stone-faced, and it irritated him. You befriended everyone in the hotel, navigating its chaos with grace, but never once did your lips so much as twitch into a smile. And that irked him more. 

Eventually, something in him shifted. Perhaps it was the challenge you presented, or maybe he had eternity to burn. Either way, he decided he was going to make you smile. Once, just once, and then he’d be on his merry way.  

So, he tried everything. At first, you merely raised an eyebrow, curious but silent as he suddenly began spending more time with you. Yet, you never complained. Instead, you listened, offering no reaction other than attentive silence.  

He’d tell jokes, ones that normally left him in stitches, but you’d sit there, unblinking, lips still pressed into that same stubborn line.  

Then, he tried pranks. He’d tap your shoulder and watch you startle when he appeared behind you, his laughter echoing down the halls. Every time, the same trick, the same reaction – but never a smile. Only a flicker of surprise before you carried on, as if nothing had happened.  

“Knock, knock!” He said one day, his voice lifting to its usual jovial pitch, eyes gleaming with mischief.  

You tilted your head, blinking innocently at him. “Who’s there?” 

“Boo,” he said, leaning closer, the tension in the air thickening with his creeping grin.  

“Boo, who?” 

His neck tilted, cracking unnaturally to the side as his microphone staff crackled with a sharp burst of static. “Oh, don’t cry now, dear! You’ll really have something to weep about once the fun begins!” His smile stretched wide, cutting into his cheeks as the ominous word settled into the space between you.  

But you stared back, unfazed. “That joke is pretty on-brand with you,” you said in the same soft monotone, nodding slightly before continuing on your way as if nothing had happened.  

Alastor’s left eye twitched as he watched you walk away, completely unfazed. He had told you674 jokes. Six hundred and seventy-four. And not once had you cracked a smile. It couldn’t be that his jokes weren’t funny – that would be an outrageous, preposterous impossibility! 

No, it had to be you.  

No matter how many jokes fell flat, Alastor wasn’t deterred. When punchlines didn’t work, he decided to escalate – physical humour.  

One afternoon, while you were quietly reading in the hotel library, he summoned a shadow tendril with the flick of his hand. It slithered across the floor silently until it reached your side, then gently wiggled under your arm.  

A soft, startled yelp escaped you, a sound so unexpectedly cute that it nearly startled him. You looked down at the mischievous tendril, now waving back at you in playfulness. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment creeping up your neck as your eyes flicked toward Alastor, trying to understand what just happened.  

And Alastor? He blinked, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he realized something new about himself. There was something oddly...endearing about the sound you made. It reminded him of a small, startled puppy, and he couldn’t help but want to hear it again.  

But why? 

Why did he suddenly crave that pathetic little noise? He almost wanted to scold himself for it, but the curiosity was far stronger.  

A booming laugh erupted from him instead, loud and dramatic as always, masking the strange and unfamiliar sensation bubbling in his chest. His heart – what was left of it – beat harder, faster. Palpitations? After death? How bizarre.

Over time, however, things changed in subtle ways. He noticed how easily you fit into his life, sliding into his routine with an almost unnerving grace. Somehow, without ever asking, you convinced him to join you for breakfast each morning. While you quietly nibbled on toast with jam or a simple egg, Alastor would indulge in more ...exotic fare – perhaps a raw deer carcass or the seared flesh of a particularly deserving sinner. Yet, your expression never wavered. No grimace. No disgust.  

There was something oddly comforting about your presence at the breakfast table, the quiet companionship as the two of you sat together. Alastor hadn’t realized how much he missed that – true companionship – since arriving in Hell. Surrounded by chaos and destruction, he hadn’t noticed the absence of something so simple, so human.  

He didn’t mind the morning with you. In fact, he began to look forward to them.  

Days blurred into weeks, and then months. Despite the time you spent together, Alastor had still never seen you smile. Occasionally, he thought he caught the faintest hint of something – a softening in your eyes, perhaps, when you glanced his way – but it never quite reached your lips. At this point, he figured he was smiling enough for both of you.  

Then, something strange happened. He stopped obsessing over making you smile. Somewhere along the line, it ceased being a game or a challenge. He just...stopped. And as for what he was doing with you now? He wasn’t entirely sure.  

He found himself becoming more involved in your daily life, his presence intertwining with your routine. He shared more meals with you. He strolled beside you through town, spinning tales of his past, both in life and in Hell, as you listened with quiet, patient attention.  

And now, here he was, sitting next to you in the library, the two of you reading in comfortable silence, side by side.  

Your arms barely touched, but when you turned a page and the lightest brush of your arm grazed his, Alastor found himself leaning ever so slightly toward you. The movement was so subtle, so imperceptible, that even he wasn’t sure why he did it.  

But he didn’t pull away.  

“ROOOWRRR!” A ghastly yowl echoed through the halls, followed by a chorus of scream – most notably, Charlie’s. Her frantic voice rang out, sharp and panicked.  

“ALASTOR!” Charlie’s scream tore down the hall, urgent and distressed.  

You jolted in place as you instinctively turned to Alastor. Confusion and a flicker of fear danced across your face. Without thinking, Alastor’s hand reached out, patting your arm in what should have been a casual gesture.  

Yet, it felt different – this was the first time he’d touched you in an attempt to comfort. His eyes flickered down to where his hand rested against your skin, realizing the weight of the act. Suddenly, he pulled back as if he had been burned, his fingers tingling from the contact.  

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, trying to cover his uncharacteristic slip with a wide, winning smile. “Ah, it’s nothing to worry your silly head about, darling! Just...that thing again. Visits every three years, though it’s a bit early this time,” he said, his tone light as he brushed imaginary lint off his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate.  

“That...thing?” You tilted your head, your wide eyes full of innocent curiosity and a touch of lingering uncertainty. Your shoulders hunched in slightly, unconsciously trying to make yourself smaller, to shrink away from whatever chaos awaited in the lobby.  

Alastor’s gaze softened, and an unfamiliar urge tugged at him. He wanted to rub your back in reassurance, to ease the tension in your frame. He had hugged Rosie, hugged Mimzy – so surely, hugging you wouldn’t be any different.  

Yet as his eyes traced the delicate line of your figure, he froze. His heart thudded in his chest, the heat crawling up from his core to his cheeks, unbidden and unfamiliar. The feeling, strange and sudden, made his left eye twitch.Heartburn? Now, of all times?

“It’s nothing, darling,” Alastor assured, folding his hands neatly behind his back, masking the odd sensation that threatened to rise. “You might as well come and see for yourself – it's quite the hideous little thing,” he added with a smirk, trying to inject a bit of humour.  

Curiosity lit up your face, your lips parting in a soft gasp, eyes gleaming. “A hideous little thing?” you asked, your voice gentle as you picked up your pace to walk beside him.  

He couldn’t help but notice that each of his strides required you to take two steps to keep up. Without much of a thought, he slowed his pace until you matched him easily. “Yes, hideous and annoying. I’ve repeatedly told everyone not to feed it, yet here we are,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing in mild distaste as you approached the source of the chaos.  

When you reached the lobby, your eyes widened in pure awe. There, bouncing off the walls with a guttural yowl, was a red-furred four-legged creature the size of a cat. Its eyes were comically pointed outward, each one staring in opposite directions, and the tufts of black tipped fur on its ears bore an uncanny resemblance to Alastor’s own. To top it off, the creature sported a monocle on its left eye – just like Alastor’s.  

“Alastor!” Vaggie’s voice cut through the air as she stood in the centre of the room, sweating and pointing an accusatory finger at the beast. “Deal with Catastor!” 

Your eyes darted to Alastor. “Catastor?” you repeated, the name settling on your lips as you tried to suppress the amusement creeping into your voice.  

Alastor sighed, his grin never faltering. “Yes, Catastor. Don’t ask,” he muttered, casting the creature a look of pure disdain. He turned his attention to Vaggie, his grin tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I’ve told you many times, that thing looks nothing like me,” he spat, thrusting the head of his staff toward the red-furred creature now lazily stretching its body and wiggling around the room, seemingly oblivious to the chaos it had caused.  

“Really?” you mused, stepping forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “It does look a bit like you,” you teased, inching closer to the bizarre creature.  

Alastor’s gaze darted to you, and his voice lowered, an edge of warning in his tone. “Careful, darling. That thing has a taste for sinners,” he muttered, grimacing. “Considering, it always manages to sneak into my stockpile of them.” 

The beast, as if sensing the conversation was about it, suddenly lunged in your direction. Alastor’s eyes widened in horror. His heart leapt into his throat as he instinctively reached out, but before he could summon even a flicker of his power to protect you, you had already acted.  

With surprising grace, your hands slid under the creature’s armpits, effortlessly catching it mid-lunge. You cradled it as though it were nothing more than a stray kitten. “Hello again,” you cooed softly, your voice calm, eyes brightening with a gentle warmth as you tilted your head in amusement. 

The room was a mess – the lights still swayed from the beast’s earlier rampage, and a bit of the floorboard lay shattered and torn across the space. Everyone’s hair was in disarray, save for Alastor and you.  

Offering an apologetic smile, you looked around. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, glancing at the others. “I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to feed him.” 

Alastor blinked, too stunned to respond. You held the creature against your chest, your fingers tenderly petting its head, and to his utter disbelief, the beast – this monstrous, chaotic thing – melted in your hands. Its lower half sagged like goo, limp and boneless, as you held it up by its torso.  

A burst of laughter slipped from your lips, light and full of joy. “Silly boy,” you murmured, playfully bopping the creature’s nose. Then, you looked up at Alastor, your eyes curved in a gentle, delighted line, and your smile – radiant and bright – struck him like a punch to the gut. “I promise I’ll take care of him properly, so he doesn’t cause any more trouble. Could he stay?” 

“Absolutely-” Alastor began, his voice rising in protest, but the words caught in his throat. His gaze was glued to your lips, curved in that dazzling smile. He hadn’t even noticed the creature snuggling closer to your chest, its purrs filling the air like a mocking reminder of its victory. That hideous, absurd thing had succeeded where he had failed for months.  

Before he could fully voice his objection, Angel Dust’s voice broke through the moment. “Wait - you’ve been feeding it?” Angel coughed, climbing out from beneath the rubble, dusting himself off. “And that thing didn’t try to eat you?” 

Vaggie, eyes narrowed, stomped her foot in frustration. “How do you know it tries to eat people, Angel? Did you feed it too?” 

Angel shrugged, glancing at her sheepishly. “Maybe...” 

Alastor’s eye twitched, irritation surging through him. Months – months of trying to get you to smile, and now, here you were, beaming because of that disgusting creature. He clenched his jaw, attempting to suppress the growing wave of annoyance.  

Vaggie shot a glare toward Charlie, groaning in exasperation. “No...don’t tell me. Have all of you been feeding Catastor after Alastor explicitly told us not to?” 

Alastor gritted his teeth, the growing resentment gnawing at him. The fact that the creature’s name had been twisted to mimic his own was an insult he could barely stand. He opened his mouth, ready to snap with a biting retort, but before he could, you stepped in front of him.  

The beast had fully stretched, wrapping its long, serpentine torso around your neck like a scarf, purring contentedly as it nuzzled into you. Alastor’s eyes flickered between the creature and your smiling face, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to shift.  

That smile – your smile – he'd been chasing it for so long. And now that it was here, he wasn’t sure what to do with the flutter of emotions tangled up inside him.  

“Alastor, if he causes any trouble, I’ll-” you faltered, eyes scanning the floor, searching for words before meeting his gaze. “I’ll deal with the consequences. So, c-could you give him a chance? I promise I’ll take good care of him, we-we'll stay out of trouble!” Your voice wavered, eyes pleading, as your once hopeful smile slowly began to shrink.  

Alastor’s eyes flicked to the red-furred beast lounging lazily around your neck. The creature had been nothing but a nuisance, sneaking into his stock of food and leaving foul messes all over his bayou. The obvious answer was no. It was so clear in his mind – he could already see himself punting the cat-like creature far across the pentagram, dusting his hands of the whole ordeal.  

But as your smile withered, and your eyes searched his, slowly realizing the inevitable refusal, something tugged at his chest. That sinking look in your eyes...it ate away at him.  

The obvious answer was no.  

But instead... 

“I swear,” he began, his tone sharp, deliberate. “If that thing causes any hint of trouble in my room, particularly, I’m going to eat that cat.” He enunciated each word, his grin widening as he flashed his sharp teeth, shooting a glare at the foul creature. In response, the creature mockingly stuck its tongue out at him, which only further soured his mood.  

What surprised him was how your face lit up – how your eyes widened, shimmering with joy, and how your once solemn expression now blossomed into something so bright it seemed to light up the entire room. You grabbed his hands in your excitement, shaking them up and down with a bubbling laughter that filled the air like music.  

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed, laughter spilling from your lips like sunshine.  

Alastor stood frozen, utterly stunned. He stared at you, his grinning mask forced on as he took in the sight of your laughter, the warmth of your smile. It was as if something inside him had cracked open – he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to see you like this, to hear that laughter, to witness the unfiltered joy in your face.  

His heart pounded against his rib cage, thrumming in his ears like a chaotic rhythm, and for a moment, he was paralyzed by the strange, unfamiliar sensation washing over him.  

How had you managed to convince him to take care of that beast? That thing would undoubtedly invade every corner of your life... and, by extension, his.  

He couldn’t understand it.  

Was he ill? Dying? 

But then you called his name, your voice soft, sweet, still laced with that bright smile that now adorned your face as if it always belonged there. And in that instant, he knew. With dawning horror, he realized what was happening.  

His tongue felt heavy, his chest unbearably tight, and his left eye twitched erratically. He took a giant step backward, trying to ground himself, then another, and another, until he melted into the shadows, disappearing without a word.  

Alastor realized, with a deep, unsettling dread, that he fancied you.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[propertyofwicked]

STARE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read

masterlist the playlist

the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.

in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.

she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.

lando felt smug.

the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.

or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.

“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.

“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.

“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”

“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.

“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”

“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.

“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.

“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”

“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”

she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?

“how did yo-”

“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.

“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.

“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”

“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.

“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”

“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.

“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.

“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.

“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”

“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”

“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.

lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.

“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.

“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.

“have we got time?”

“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.

though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.

“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”

y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.

“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.

“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.

“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.

“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.

she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.

“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.

“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.

“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.

“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”

she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.

“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.

“please, lando.”

“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.

“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”

as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.

“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.

y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.

“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.

“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”

y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.

“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.

“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”

“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”

“next time?”

“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”

heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.

“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.

“eager?” he teased.

“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.

“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

It's So Easy to Bite With Your Hands Pinned

Eddie Munson x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: it’s Eddie’s birthday, but you’re the one who gets the gift. 

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) bondage, blindfolding, nipple play, body worship, oral (f receiving) breeding kink, cockwarming, fingering, finger sucking, dom!eddie

part one part two part three

You anxiously awaited Eddie’s arrival as you sat in your living room, wearing nothing but a robe. You had no idea what was going to happen, but what you did know was that you were wanting to give him a show. Now only did you want to thank him for everything he had shown you so far, but you also wanted to make his birthday feel special, feeling honored that he had wanted to spend the day with you. 

The front door unlocked and your nerves were at an all time high once he opened it, standing there in a sheer shirt that showed off his tattoos  very nicely. It was accompanied by a very tight pair of leather pants and in that moment, you swore that the man was trying to kill you with his looks. He pulled you in for a kiss and you tried your best to hold back a moan, realizing just how much you always missed kissing him when he wasn’t around. 

“Happy birthday,” you told him. “Are you ready for your gift or do you want it later?” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and 

Eddie couldn’t help but notice just how good you had gotten at seducing him. He was so close to having his way with you right there, but he restrained himself. 

“Well, I actually have something for you,” he said, holding out a small, light green gift bag. 

You looked at the thing in his outstretched hand then back up at him, seeing that he wasn’t able to hide that adorable smile. You were confused as to why he had gotten something for you when it was his birthday. 

“Why did you get me a gift?”

“It’ll all make sense when you open it.” You slowly pulled the tissue out of the bag as you eyed him, seeing his own lighting up with mischief and you were almost afraid to see what was inside. You then reached into the bag and pulled out a piece of silk, looking up at Eddie in confusion.

"There's more," he said and you reached into the bag one more time and pulled out what looked like a piece of black rope. You thought about it for a second and Eddie's smile quickly turned into a smirk once he saw that you understood what he meant.

"I think this is the best gift I've ever gotten," you told him as you held your gifts in your hands.

"I thought you might think so," he replied, placing his arm across your shoulders, turning towards the hallway that led to your bedroom. "Now let's make use of them, shall we?"

Eddie led you to your room and you couldn't help but notice how quickly he was moving, clearly excited about the events that were about to take place. As soon as he got you inside, he slammed the door behind it, pushing you up against it before his lips found yours.

The kiss was hot and messy, Eddie taking no time to slide his tongue into your mouth, letting out a gasp as you brought it between your lips giving it a hard suck. You did it one more time and felt yourself getting wet just by hearing his whine.

He pulled away before your were ready and felt his cock hardening just by seeing your lust-filled eyes. God, you were so irresistible and you didn't even have to try. It was unfair just as it was hot.

"You gonna unwrap your gift now?" You asked, your tone sultry. Your hands moved to the bow you had tied with belt of your robe to keep it closed, but Eddie got to it first, pulling it slowly as a way to tease you and tried his best to hold back a laugh at your frustration.

Eddie pulled the belt from your robe completely and the thing fell open, revealing your naked body and Eddie let out a dramatic gasp as he took you in. He was mesmerized by your looks, his breath completely taken away by how you looked even though he had seen your naked body more times than he could count by then.

He pulled you to him gently, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that was nothing but teeth and tongues, filthy sounding moans leaving both of your mouths as Eddie pushed the robe from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap behind you.

He then grabbed onto your hips and pushed you down onto the bed, pulling the blindfold and rope from your hand as he did so. You scooted back so you were lying flat, your head just inches away from the head board.

Eddie followed you, quick to take one of your wrists and pinning them to the headboard, tying them together as they pressed against one of the poles.

He then took the blindfold and slowly moved it towards your face, giving you plenty of time to back out. Once he was sure that you were okay, even making you say it, he put the blindfold over your eyes and you lifted your head so he could tie it at the back of your head.

You stayed quiet, your heart racing in your chest as excitement coursed through you. You had never experienced anything like that before and were glad that it was Eddie who was introducing you to it. He had been nothing but gentle the whole time. Well, with his words, not so much his actions.

“When one of your senses is removed, your other ones get stronger, more sensitive. So I’m gonna test them out, see just how sensitive they are. Now you just sit back, relax, and tell me what you enjoy, hm?”

“O-okay,” you responded and waited for him to get started.

“Good girl,” was all he responded before leaning down, pressing his lips to yours once again. You were focused on the way he tasted, like cigarettes and the minty gum he always chewed to cover it up.

Before you could get another taste, though, his lips moved from yours, migrating to your cheek, the kisses featherlight and gentle before he went in for your neck, reaching up and moving your head to the side to give him more room.

The kisses were soft at first as he warmed you up, wanting to give you an appetizer, just a little taste of the main course. He then began to suck, light little movements to show that he could also be sweet and gentle. But that was quickly shattered when he went in with his teeth, letting them scrape along you skin, hard enough to make you gasp, but light enough as to not break the skin.

He continued and your eyes shut even tighter as more moans fell from your lips. How could he not when you sounded so hot? He wanted to keep going until you came. He wanted to see just how many times he could get you off that night. How many times he could get your absolutely delicious moans to fill his ears.

And then you whined, making Eddie’s cock twitch, feeling it harder even more. He was convinced that was his favorite sound of yours, the noise signifying that you wanted more but couldn’t get yourself to say it. And when you eventually did ask? Oh, he was absolutely done for. Wrecked even.

“More,” you whined. “Harder.”

“As you wish,” he replied and the moan that left your mouth as he slid his teeth across your skin was borderline pornographic.

“More,” you demanded, and why was he to say no? He bit down this time, hard and you gasped, focusing on the feeling of his teeth scraping against your neck. He had done it before, but this time it was different. It felt more intense, much better than it ever had with him previously.

Eddie then diffused the sting with his tongue, gliding it all along the forming bruise before going it for one more suck as another loud, filthy moan spilled from your lips.

He pulled away, admiring his work while simultaneously watching you orgasm underneath him. The noises mixed with the way you were holding onto him and how well you were adapting to being blindfolded, jesus, he was just living one of his wet dreams.

Eddie then leaned down his lips right by the shell of your ear and he blew into it, loving the way you squirmed underneath him, bringing your shoulder up to your ear to get rid of the weird sensation.

Once your ear was exposed again, he leaned down, bringing his lips closer. “Look at you, doing so well and we’ve barely even gotten started,” he whispered and the breath passing his lips felt so intense against your ear that you actually felt goosebumps forming on your skin.

“Then what was that?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Honey you know that was just the appetizer,” he chuckled, the gust of air making you shiver slightly. “All of this had just been the warm up. And you’re doing so well. Responding to my every move. Such a good girl for daddy. I think you deserve a little treat for that.”

Once he was done speaking, his gave your earlobe a little nibble then pulled away, moving lower, pressing kisses to every inch he could find. He was going to show you just how beautiful he thought you were. That wasn’t exactly his thing, but he decided that it was what you deserved. He needed you to know exactly what he thought about you and he was going to show you the only way he knew how since he wasn’t exactly great with words outside of the bedroom.

He brought his hand up and began to massage one of your nipples, his ears perking up as he heard yet another gasp fall from your lips. It wasn’t getting old, in fact, he loved to hear it, how sensitive you were to every little thing now that one of your senses was taken away.

He could feel that it was already hard and he smiled to himself as he thought about taken it into his mouth, licking and sucking on it as you came and came until you didn’t have anymore in you. Until you were begging him to stop because you were too tired to put out anymore.

So he brought your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it at first, feeling your hands fisting his shirt as he began to suck hard, harder than he had on your neck. You were moaning already and he had barely even done anything. Oh, this was going to be a fun night.

You were itching to scratch down his back to let him know how much you were enjoying yourself. Everything felt so intense and you were living for it. This was the most you had ever felt alive in a long time. Steve would have never been down for a thing like that. It would have been too adventurous, too weird.

Just as you were getting used to the feeling of his tongue, he bit down, harder than he had on your neck, causing a wince to fall from your lips and he immediately stopped, pulling away to make sure he hadn’t hurt you.

“Do it again,” you commanded.

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Hadn’t he just hurt you?

“Do it. Again.”

Eddie hesitantly lowered his head down to your tit once more, bringing your nipple into his mouth once more and biting down just as he had before. Your loudest moan yet fell from your lips as your back arched, signaling to Eddie that you had reached your first of many orgasms that night.

“That was amazing, babygirl,” he complimented. “Need to hear that sound again. Wanna make it for me?” All you could do was nod but that wasn’t good enough for Eddie. He needed verbal consent. “Use your words.”

“Yes, please,” you begged and Eddie took no time to move to your other nipple, biting down on it, eliciting another moan from you, this one even louder. He pulled away just in time to watch you come again and decided that he’d never get tired of watching you like that.

The way your mouth fell open, the lovely sounds that spilled from it and it the way you were always holding onto something for dear life, whether it be his shirt, bare back, or even the sheets. But his favorite part was how your back always arched without fail, how your toes always curled as it all coursed through you. The entire thing would live in his head forever and that was exactly the way he liked it.

“Need your cock, Eddie,” you whined. “Need it so bad.” When you were whining like that, how could he have possibly said no?

“Alright, chill out,” he commanded. “I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fuck you until you’re crying on my cock and then I’m gonna eat your cunt, lick up every single bit of my cum out of you and then I’m gonna lick you absolutely clean.” His tone mixed with his words were making you absolutely soaked. If those were his plans, you had no objections. The whole thing sounded so hot.

“Gonna get undressed, okay?” He asked and you just nodded, waiting patiently, going over all your past interactions in your mind to keep yourself occupied.

“Okay,” you replied and he began to pull his clothes off in record speed, wanting to go ahead and get to it, but also wanting to not keep you waiting.

Once he was naked, he grabbed onto your waist, giving each side a little pinch which made you yelp in surprise. He then lined himself up with you, but paused, looking up at you to make sure that you were ready.

“You ready, hon?”

“So ready. Please just do it.” And so he pushed himself inside you, taking no time to pound into you, his ears picking up on the squelching coming from your cunt. Jesus, had you been that wet before.

“You’re soaked,” he pointed out and you were suddenly feeling embarrassed, your cheeks burning and apparently Eddie had picked up on it. “No, no, it was a compliment, baby. Just means I’m doing my job right,” he winked even though you couldn’t see him.

He continued to pound into you, eating up the moans that were falling from your mouth, those being what kept him going. The very thing that always made him hard as a rock without fail. He watched your mouth fall open, wishing he could see your eyes since he loved how expressive they were, how he could see exactly what you had been thinking just by looking into them. 

You bucked your hips against his as best you could as you the moans that were coming from both of your mouths mixed together into the air. Your ears were tuned into the sound of the springs squeaking underneath the two of and the squelching on your sopping wet pussy that Eddie was fucking into with so much force, pushing all of himself into you to the point where you thought you were going to split a the seams. And wouldn’t have that been a such great way to go? 

But you could take it and you were, Eddie’s raspy voice filling your ears as he told you as much, cheering you on, letting you know just how good you were doing, that you were so close to earning your treat, even though the whole thing was starting to feel like one. It was his birthday and he was the one giving you a gift. Now you were beginning the one you had for him to wasn’t as good even though he assured you that it was the best he had ever received. 

“Look at you,” he said through labored breaths. “All fucked out and you haven’t even come yet. Let’s see just how many times you can before you’re absolutely spent. And wow, you’re almost there,” he pointed out with a devilish smirk, seeing your mouth opening wide as a loud almost scream came from it. “Come on, baby, just a little more-that’s it.” 

You were reaching your second orgasm and Eddie kept up his pace as he talked you through it, never being able to keep his damn mouth shut, especially not in the bedroom. And as you collapsed against the mattress, you begged him to keep going, not ready to give up quite yet. You needed him inside you for just a little longer, for the rest of the night and into the morning if you had it your way. You’d go multiple rounds and then afterwards he’d clean the both of you up and pull you into his arms while you both slept the day away, going at it again as soon as you woke. 

“That’s one,” he said, his lips brushing yours, his thumbs digging into your skin and you wanted him to do it harder, silently begging for the pain. “How many more, baby?” He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Two?” Another. “Three?” Another. “Maybe five? Or is that just wishful thinking?” He pulled you in for another, this time slotting his lips between yours, this one more gentle than he ever had been before. It was a kiss that was shared between lovers and the more time Eddie had spent with you, the more he was wanting to be yours. 

“One more,” you told him as you were catching your breath and he smiled into the kiss, not even able to hide just how happy you made him. 

He kissed you once more then tightening his grip on your hips as he fucked into you over and over as your hips bucked against his, trying your best to contribute considering your state. You were focused now on him and the sounds he was making, feeling wet as you picked up on his hot, heavy breathing and his fucking moans. It was so hot, sounding just like the men from the app you used to help get yourself off when Eddie wasn’t available. And the words he was using to talk you through the whole thing weren’t helping. He knew exactly what to say to make a mess of your cunt, to make you absolutely melt underneath him. 

His movements got even faster and harder as he reaching his own orgasm, his moans sounding so loud in your ears as he cum filled you. He usually pulled out before he could, but you honestly didn’t care. You would have felt honored to have gotten pregnant by him. Even though he never would have admitted it, he was nothing but soft and gentle outside of the bedroom. Especially when it came to you. 

“Fuck, that feels so good, daddy,” you told him and before you could stop yourself, you added, “Bet you’d make such a good one.” 

Eddie stopped as soon as you said it and you really wished that you could remove the blindfold to see his face. You were always able to know what he was thinking when you looked him. But you just sat there, the silence almost deafening, suddenly feeling panic rise in your chest. God, you had ruined the night by saying too much. 

“Yeah?” He asked as his movements continued. “Want me to make you a mother? Want to have a baby, baby? God, you’d look so good pregnant-“ his words were cut off by another moan, more cum leaking out of his cock. He almost sounded like he was in pain and you didn’t know why you were finding that so hot. Maybe you would take that into account next time you invited him over. “See? I’m coming just thinking about it-“ 

Eddie pulled out and stood at the edge of the bed, letting the two of you come down before he moved onto the finale. His favorite part that he was going to take his time to enjoy. It was his birthday after all, and he thought he deserved some dessert. Who needed cake when his treat was right there between your legs? It was far sweeter any cake he ever had. 

He slowly spread your legs and got a good look at what he was working with. Your slick was spilling out onto the bed and he realized this was the wettest you had ever been. He had his work cut out for him, he decided, and he was going to have a great time doing it. But he was going to do it slowly, savoring the feeling of your cunt on his tongue, the way you tasted. God, you always tasted so good and he couldn’t pin point why. It was probably just because it was you. 

“What a mess I’ve made of you princess,” he chuckled as he bent over the edge of the bed. “Looks like I’m have to clean it up.”

“Looks like it,” you responded as you felt him grab hold of one of your ankled, pressing a kiss to the inside then trailing kisses up your leg, chuckling as you yelped as you felt his teeth sink into your thigh. 

“Sorry, princess,” he apologized. “You’re just good enough to eat, and guess what?” He asked and he didn’t have to look at your face to know that you were on the edge of your seat, desperate for his answer. 

“What?” You asked, genuinely curious. 

“You look good enough to eat,” he responded as he went in for another bite before moving to your other leg, doing the same exact thing, biting down on your other thigh even harder, knowing exactly what you liked. “So easy to bite with your hands pinned,” he told you. That man and his mouth, always catching you off guard with his filthy words. And you ate it up every time, wanting to hear exactly what he was thinking, knowing that he wouldn’t shy away from sharing with you. 

“As if I’d stop you,” you replied and he went in for another bit, this time, licking away the sting and couldn’t help notice that there was a sweet taste to your skin. One that he definitely wasn’t making up in his head this time. 

“What is that?” He asked as he went in for another lick and you were too embarrassed to tell him. “Oh, don’t go shy on me now, princess. Gonna make me guess, hm?” He went in for another lick, his touch so featherlight that it tickles and you had to hold back a giggle. 

“I-it’s edible lotion,” you told him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and he licked once again, a long, slow stroke so he could pick up what the flavor was. 

“Wanted me to taste you, hm?”

“Yes,” you choked out. “It’s-uh-it’s birthday cake flavored.”

“Very fitting. Guess now’s as good a time as any for dessert, don’t you think?” 

Eddie spread your legs and threw one over each shoulder as he lied flat on his stomach, pushing himself further up the bed so that he your cunt was right in front of his face. He took no time to bury it between your legs, his hands moving up to hold onto your thighs. 

You gasped as his nose brushed your cunt, his lips taking no time to move to your clit, flicking his tongue back and forth with as much force as possible, your moans filling his ears as your heels dug into his back. He gave it a rough suck as his tongue continued to do most of the work as it swirled around, licking at it, wanting to get a really good taste of every single part of your cunt. 

You wanted so desperately to weave your fingers through his hair, tugging on it with so much force that he was wincing, knowing that he loved receiving the pain as much as you loved inflicting it. You felt like your moans along weren’t enough, that you needed him to feel just how much you were enjoying yourself. 

His mouth moved lower south, his tongue dragging from your clit to your slit where it made a home, his hard sucks met by mewls and loud whines as you begged for more, wanting the two of you to stay like that for hours. He pushed himself further into your cunt as his lips pressed against your slit, licking back and forth between the lips as he sucked even harder, hearing your cries get quieter as your thighs pressed against his ears, muffling your delicious sounds every so slightly. 

“Fuck, Eddie, so good,” You mewled, your eyes shutting even tight as you could feel each one of his lips and his tongue so intensely, every single movement making you squirm underneath him. He continued to flick his tongue back and forth between as his lips sucked as hard as he could, wanting you to really feel them, feeling like what he had been doing before just wasn’t enough. 

Your head moved backwards as his tongue slid inside you, feeling your eyes rolling back as he pushed it in and out of your cunt, your moans getting even louder signifying that he was doing his job right. You were practically screaming now as your heels dug further into his back, your toes curling as his tongue fucked you. 

His movements picked up as he pumped it in and out, doing his very best to make his pretty feel good. He curved his tongue and apparently it had hit just the right spot because he could hear that you were hitting your climax, your eyes rolling back into your head once again. But Eddie wasn’t letting up just yet and you didn’t want him to. You needed more. 

“Yeah? Like when my tongue fucks you, princess? What about my fingers?” He asked he shoved them inside you and you let out another moan at the pure bliss you were experiencing. They pumped in and out, in and out and you came over and over, new slick covering his fingers as it leaked out onto them. He had never had anyone react this way to just his fingers and he was beginning that maybe he was getting good at it. But then again, maybe you were just the perfect partner. Yep, that was definitely it. 

“Come on, just one more. I know you’re fucked out, but just one more, princess. You can do that for the birthday boy, can’t you?” He asked as he curved his fingers, watching you do exactly what he had asked, reaching your last orgasm of the night, still as enthusiastic as you had been at the very beginning, but he could see that you were fading and quick, your body going limp. 

And once your body collapsed against the bed, Eddie pulled his fingers out of you, placing his body on top of yours as he hovered his fingers over your mouth, your slick dropping onto your lips. 

“Open up,” he instructed softly and you opened your mouth, Eddie laying his fingers flat onto your tongue. “Now close.” You closed your mouth, your lips wrapping around his fingers as you did so. “Now suck, baby. I want you to see just how good you taste. This is your treat so you better enjoy it.” 

You sucked on Eddie’s fingers, the taste and feeling foreign to you, but you enjoyed both and maybe you just wanted an excuse to run your tongue along Eddie’s calloused, rough fingers. Your tongue slide up the back and he helped, flipping them over, simultaneously whining at not only the feeling, but the way you looked with your lips wrapped around his fingers, wondering if they would look as good around his cock as you licked and sucked on him as he fucked your mouth. He was going to have to test that theory just to be sure. 

Once you had gotten every last drop, Eddie removed his fingers, leaning down to press his lips to yours to lick up what was still on your tongue before he forced you to swallowed. 

“Would you look at that,” he chuckled. “Tastes even better from your mouth. Now I want to see you swallow it.” You did ask he asked without protest and he watched your throat bob as the slick slid down it. “Good girl,” his lips brushed your forehead. “Gonna remove the blindfold now, okay?” 

His hands moved up and his thumbs slid underneath the fabric as he fingers rested on the other side, lifting it ever so slightly, your beautiful eyes coming into view, squinting just a bit as they got used to the feeling of finally being free. 

“There she is,” he said with a smile as he kissed you again, his hand coming to rest against the back of your head. He pulled away before you were ready and began to untie your hands, bringing your arms down slowly, hold your hands gently in his hands. “Did so good, princess,” he said, as he pressed a kiss to each wrist, feeling the indents from the rope against his lips. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” you slurred. “So good.” Your eyes were fluttering shut and Eddie helped you get under the covers before pulling you to his chest, bare skin to bare skin as he decided that next time, he’d be on the receiving end, wondering what you’d come up with as sleep took over him. There was only way to find out, he supposed.

[fastandcarlos]

Home For The Summer : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: travelling around the world with max is one of your favourite things to do, however none of it compares to home. even though you can't afford to make it there, someone else might just

Your eyes were sceptical as soon as Max walked into your office, a smile of mischief on his face that captured your attention. He loitered around the room, with his hands behind his back, very obviously letting you know that he was hiding something from you behind your back. 

Max took a seat just beside you, looking over your desk to see what it was that you were doing, with your books open once again swatting up on some last-minute revision before Max’s summer break started. 

He was struggling to contain himself beside you, he was beyond excited as his hands came from behind his back, resting in his lap with a white envelope being held tightly in his hands. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Max proudly informed you. 

Your eyes narrowed down on his hands, “what’s going on?” You questioned, becoming increasingly concerned about what mayhem Max was causing. 

Max’s smile grew wider and wider, bouncing on his toes. “If there was one place in the world you could go during the summer break, where do you think you’d go?” Max asked you, only making you more intrigued as to what was going on. 

“That’s an easy question,” you chuckled in reply to him, “the only place that I’d ever want to go is home, it’s been ages since I last got to visit.” 

Despite all the travelling that you did, home was a destination you very rarely visited. With your studies still ongoing you were scraping the bottom of the barrel for any money that you could find, refusing any of Max’s help whenever he offered it to you. Unfortunately for you though, flights were expensive, and you were going to have to work a lot harder in order to raise the funds to get yourself there. 

“I mean, I’d be happy anywhere if it meant time with you,” you corrected. 

“But home is the spot,” Max replied, knowing exactly what you wanted, despite how nice you wanted to sound with your second response. 

Your head slowly nodded as Max held his hand out to you, encouraging you to take the envelope from his hold. It was sealed tightly shut, leaving you incredibly interested as to what Max had up his sleeve. 

“I got you a little something, a little treat for the summer,” Max told you as your finger slid underneath the tear of the envelope, ripping it open so that you could reach inside. 

You pulled out a piece of folded paper, unfolding it and watching a ticket fall into your lap. You picked it up and twirled it around, looking straight at Max with furrowed brows as you tried to work out what exactly he was giving you a ticket for. 

“Read it,” Max whispered, watching as your eyes scanned it over to try and figure things out for yourself. 

“Where are we flying too?” 

Max chuckled as you continued to scan it, letting go of a gasp as you finally read the details of the ticket. “I thought that might be a destination that you’d be interested in visiting.” 

“Is this for real? You’re not playing a joke on me, right?” 

“No, I’d never do anything like that to you love.” 

Your fingertips brushed over the departure and arrival, struggling to let it sink in. You were off out of Nice in a couple of days, arriving in your favourite place in the world just a few hours later. Max’s smile was wide as he watched the realisation hit you, Max had given you the chance to finally get yourself home. 

You carefully placed the ticket down before glancing across at Max in disbelief. “You’ve supported me so much after the past four months, I wanted to do something to say thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, “this is huge Max, the flights to get home aren’t cheap.” 

The money didn’t matter to him, he’d would’ve paid everything that he had and it would have been worth it for the smile on your face. There was no price Max could put on the amount of comfort he felt from having you there cheering him on time and time again. 

“It’s yours, and there’s another one too, so you can pick someone to take with you,” he teased. 

Your eyes rolled as he innocently shrugged back at you. “Obviously I’m going to take you with me, there’s no one else I want to take home other than you.” 

“I didn’t want to assume,” Max grinned as you shuffled across and sat yourself down in Max’s lap. “These are a thank you from me, because without you I wouldn’t be having such a successful season.” 

“I do all that because I love you,” you reminded him, “not because I expect any of this from you.” 

“I know you do.” 

Your head was still shaking in disbelief, finding yourself getting excited every time you thought about home. The people you could see, the places you could go, all the things that you had missed for so long. 

“Does everyone back at home know that we’re visiting?” You asked Max, squealing loudly when his head shook, keen to surprise them like he had done you. 

He’d seen enough videos online of reunions that he wanted you to have one of your own. He’d listened to many of your phone calls with your family and heard just how much they missed you time and time again, desperate to do something about it. 

“I take it that as surprises go, this is a pretty good one then?” 

Your head nodded back at Max straight away. “It’s beyond good, I could never have imagined that I’d receive such an amazing surprise.” 

“I should probably leave you to study as you won’t be able to take all of that back home with you.” 

You remained still as Max tried to stand, deciding that studying could wait for another day. All you wanted to do was shower Max and show him how thankful you were, with as much excitement as you had, you knew that you would never be able to concentrate anymore anyway. 

Max had a feeling you’d stay in his lap anyway, savouring the feeling of your hold around him and the sensation of your lips pressing several kisses against his cheek to let Max know just how thankful you were. 

“I can’t wait to show you my home,” you whispered against his cheek. 

Max hummed in response, “I can’t wait to see all of the amazing places you grew up, all those stories you’ve told me and I’ll finally get to see those spots.” 

“I’m finally going home.” 

“Yes you are,” Max grinned, the disbelief still clear in your voice. “And I promise that I’m going to make sure that you have the best time at home too.” 

Your smile was wide back at Max, “the fact that I’m getting to go home with you already makes it the best trip ever.” 

“I’m glad you’re excited,” Max mused, “I love you, you know that right?” 

“I do, and I love you too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys realizing how small their s/o is to the point they can fit in the cabinet or in a box like a cat. How would they react?

Bruce

Only looks at you with a raised brow the moment he opened the cupboard, only to discover that you managed you sweetie yourself in the small confided space with a blanket.

‘Is there a reason you’re hiding in the cupboard?’ He’d ask, believing there to be a logical explanation behind your actions.

You only shrugged as you smiled at him. ‘I just wanted to test if I was small enough to fit really, now I found a hiding spot incase an impromptu hide and seek game were to happen.’

‘An impromptu hide and seek game? My love who’d-‘

‘Stephanie or Dick.’ You cut him off as he could only chuckle at your ability to somehow integrate yourself in what the kids were doing so seamlessly it was almost adorable, no it was adorable because he was happy that you got along with the kids as though they were you’re own and giving them the memories they could look back on and smile.

‘While this is quite impressive, I wouldn’t want you to hurt your self coming out there.’ Bruce says as he holds his hand out to you and you quickly accepted, letting him pull you out just as little Steph ran past you both screaming;

‘HIDE AND SEEK! IM GOING TO COUNT TO TEN SND FIND YOU ALL!’

You quickly dropped Bruce’s hand, much to his dismay as he watched you, his partner, run back towards the cupboard you came out of and shove yourself into it before slamming the door shut as Stephie finished counting. Bruce smiled the moment he felt Stephen’s little hand touch his leg.

‘You didn’t try to hide.’ she pouts and he kneels down to ruffled her hair.

‘That’s because I want to help you find everyone before dinner is done.’ Bruce replied as he glanced towards the cupboard you were hiding in, feeling your glare of betrayal through the wood as he smirked, holding Stephanie’s hand as he easily helped her find everyone; everyone but you that was as he was saving you for last.

Dick

Almost screams when he sees you within his cupboard.

‘Sweetheart! Are you stuck? No you’re too short to be stuck-‘ dick muttered to himself, not knowing that you heard him loud and clear.

‘Thanks dickhead.’ You replied sarcastically as you looked at him, ‘while I might be short but at least I can fit into things that your acrobatic ass could only wish.’ You added as you goaded him.

Coming down from the initial scare of seeing you in his cupboard, making him internally wonder how long you’ve been doing this for, and hoped you didn’t see him sneak Hayley some more treats then necessary. However the moment he heard the taunting in your voice, his eyes shone with a little excitement and mischief as he leant towards you.

‘Are you sure about that? What makes you think I haven’t tried?’ He asks.

You shrug. ‘Jason said you tried it once when wanting to scare Bruce and got stuck.’ You answered and dick couldn’t help but curse Jason for letting you in on his biggest embarrassment. Dick crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, ‘well I’ve learned from the last time!’ He exclaimed but there was a sense of uncertainty in his they told you that he definitely didn’t leave from the last time. ‘Just watch me!’ Dick adds as he muscled his way onto the cupboard next to you.

You were quickly ditched your competitiveness and become worried the moment you heard dick whisper ‘oh shit’ under his breath. ‘Dick? What’s wrong?’ You asked, pressing your ear against the wood that separated you both. ‘I think I’m stuck sweetheart…’ dick mournfully answered as you sighed and grabbed your phone, punching in a familiar number at this point.

‘I’ll call Jason.’ You said.

‘Tell him to not tell anyone!’ Dick shouted, knowing how Jason would get if he saw him like this, much like he teased Tim with those robbers who kept trying to-and failing- to kidnap him. ‘I’ll be sure to make him promise or I’ll hide in his cupboard and scare him.’ You replied as you pressed your phone to you ear, waiting for Jason to pick up.

‘Thanks honey.’ Dick murmured.

Jason

‘Shit.’ Jason cured the moment he found your hiding spot.

‘Language jay bird.’ You replied.

‘You scared the shit out of my chipmunk,’ Jason exclaimed before wildly gesturing to the cupboard that you had somehow stuffed yourself in, ‘how did you managed to get yourself in there in the first place?’ He asked and you shrugged. ‘I’m small’ was your explanation.

‘I know that but when did hiding in cupboards started becoming your thing?’ Jason continued to ask, still not grasping how you would want to spend time in a small, claustrophobic cupboard, the logic wasn’t coming to him and therefore you went beyond logic with your actions also.

‘Since this week?’ You said as you tried to think back to when you started doing this, but nothing was coming up, it was almost as if hiding in small spaces without letting others be aware of this habit was something you just did out of impulse. ‘I dunno but I’ve got to entertain myself when you go off on patrol.’ You groaned as Jason placed his hands on his hips.

‘Oh yeah? Well you’re coming out of the cupboard and we’ll go do something together because I swear if you do that to me again, I think I might pass away…again.’ Jason retorted as you let him grab you by the waist and pull you out of the cupboard, holding you close to his chest as he smothered kisses across your face and neck.

‘Alright! Alright! I won’t scare you again but can we at least cuddle?’ You pleaded with him as you batted your eyelashes at him, making his interior crumble as Jason can’t say no to you no matter what and no one knew this more then himself. ‘Fine,’ Jason smiled softly at you as he held you close, ‘since you asked so nicely and maybe I’ll let you sleep under my hoodie tonight. How does that sound?’

You hummed as you cuddled into your favourite person in Gotham, clinging onto him like a koala bear. ‘That sounds perfect but anything with you is perfect as it is.’ Jason kissed your forehead. ‘Im glad you agree my little cupboard climber.’

You groan. ‘That is not becoming my new nickname.’

‘Why not I like it?’ Jason defends.

‘Well it lacks severely in the creativity department my jay bird.’ You tell him as he brought you both to the bedroom.

‘I’ll try again tomorrow.’

Damian

Only stares at you as though you grew a second head.

‘Hi dami!’ You greeted as though sitting in a box was the most normal thing that could’ve happened to anyone.

‘My treasure, I’m aware you’re of the shorter stature but this is something else entirely for what purpose does it serve.’ Damian asked as he tried to find it was even possible for someone to do what you did, if anything he would probably see it as a challenge to also somehow fit himself into something ridiculously small.

He almost lost his mind when he couldn’t see you and so to find that you had been here the entity, while relaxed him, only made him feel a little stupefied. He thought you had gotten kidnapped or worse!

‘A quick hideaway, that and something to hold over dicks head because he maybe flexible, but can he fit in a small box? I don’t think so.’ You taunted as you smiled to yourself, already seeing the look up dick’s face when he realises that you bested him in something.

Damian sighed as he kissed your head. ‘You sure can be a handful my dear but I wouldn’t want you any other way.’ He says as you smiled in response, pushing your head further against his lips as you felt accomplished in more ways then one.

‘Thank you dami.’ You said softly as you reached out and held his hand, allowing him to pull you out of the box and into his arms, where you closed your eyes and smiled.

‘You almost scared me my beloved.’ Damian admitted, ‘I thought you were taken.’ He adds as. You tightened your hold on him, giving him reassuring back rubs as you allowed him to cling to you for however long he desired.

‘I’m right here dami, I’m right here.’

[juletheghoul]

regrets

a/n: I cannot seem to stop myself from taking these amazing requests and going on a rampage because Marcus Acacius is my literal muse at this point. I bought my tickets for the movie and I am not going to know how to fucking act in that theatre. I sort of ran with this request, and inevitably it turned into feelings! This un-beta'd, barely edited request. All mistakes and errors are mine! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! (this is before the last chapter)

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, talk of war, Marcus is a soft boi at heart and he has some regrets about being a hoe in his younger days, *feelings*, also he takes a lil tumble but he's fine! Marcus gets wine-drunk, but he's still in control of his faculties, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.2k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

His face lit up, brighter and happier than you’d seen him, maybe ever. 

You smile to yourself from your place behind him, basking in the warmth of his mirth. The visitor had come unannounced but more welcome than any before him. An old, dear friend from his days as a mere footsoldier in the Roman army. Marcus opened his arms to the man, ushering him into his home with an almost uncharacteristic warmth–to anyone who didn’t truly know him. 

“Gods, but it has been years has it not Marcus? Since our days on the march?” The man asks him, a tired sigh on his breath. 

“Indeed it has. An age, we were mere boys then.” Marcus drains his wine and holds the cup out, you are already there, pouring just as it reaches you.

“Troublesome boys, wicked things were we not? We seemed to attract all kinds of mischief.” The man laughs, and Marcus joins, although his laughter is laced with a groan, peppered with shame. 

“Do not remind me, we were terrors.” Marcus hides his face behind his cup, drinking with his eyes downcast and it’s that aversion that piques your interest. Visions of a younger, wilder Marcus fill your mind's eye, what had he done? The man laughs, and you keep your vigil behind your Dominus. 

“I hold the memories dear, even the unsavoury ones.” The man raises his cup, and Marcus bows his head, agreeing. “Wish I had kept the looks of my youth as you have old friend.” They laugh together, clinking their cups and remembering things they do not say out loud. 

The night wears on, and they drink until the hour grows late. When they begin to yawn, Marcus insists the man stays.

“Girl, see to the preparations of a room and then come tend to me.” He speaks slowly, carefully.

“Yes Dominus.” You smile, despite yourself.

-

When you walk into his room, he sits on his bed, staring at nothing.

“Dominus, are you well?” His eyes lock on you, he sways a little, only a little.

“Too much wine, I will feel this in the morning.” He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face as you approach. “I should have known.” There is no anger in him, only a resigned acceptance. 

“If I may be so bold Dominus, it seemed you were enjoying yourself.” You bring the basin over and dip a fresh piece of linen, his eyes track your movements.

“I saw a happiness in you that I have not seen before, I would see it more often if I had any say.” He tilts his face up to yours, and you cleanse it softly, smiling at the way his eyes close.

“Would you now, Girl, do you think me unhappy?” His voice is soft, but gravelly. It awakens the parts of your body that always awaken for him. It worsens when his hands land on your hips, pulling you to stand between his spread legs.

“No Dominus, well, at times yes. Not unhappy per say, but not the way I saw you tonight.”

“I am happy, Girl. I am happier than I have been in ages.” His hands rub at your hips, sliding down to grab at your ass. 

“It fills my heart with joy to hear that.” You run your fingers through his hair, admiring the flush in his cheeks, the sparkle of candlelight in his eyes. 

“And you? Are you happy, Girl?” He holds onto you, eyes locking onto yours and it feels bigger than it should, the question on his tongue.

“Yes Dominus, I am.”  A long, pregnant moment passes and the tension rises, swelling bigger and bigger. Your heart races and then he rises, or, he tries to.

Water from the basin had splashed onto the floor, and he slips. His eyes widen with shock as he lands on his backside on the floor at your feet. 

He sits in shock, his tunic pooling high on his thighs and it’s almost like someone else’s voice comes out of your mouth, a sharp bark of laughter comes out before you clap your hands to your mouth. 

He stares up at you, the shock of the fall, the shock of your laughter, the wine, the moment—he laughs; you both laugh. Deep, loud belly laughs fill the room until tears fall from your eyes, until he holds his stomach. Any fear, any tension is gone with the crinkle of his eyes and the rare glimpse of his dimple.

“Oh Gods, I am of a form.” He gets it out eventually, smiling wide from his place on the floor. 

“Apologies Dominus—“ the ache in your belly is so great you hold onto his bed. He waves away your apology, and carefully rises. “I did not mean to laugh—“

“Peace girl, it was something to laugh at.” He stands, careful of the offending spill and removes his tunic. “The sound of your laughter is welcome, always. I do not think you cruel.” 

You don’t know how to respond, the wine has brought down his guard and made him something open, something honest and human–nothing like he is when he is too long away from the battlefield, nothing like he is when his station in this life pulls at him. 

“I have not seen my friend in many years, it was nice to speak to him, to bask in the memories of my younger days. Even the ones I’d rather forget.” You let him speak, the novelty of his reminiscing making you smile as you prepare his bed for sleep. 

“It was worth the price I will pay in the morning.” You bite your lip, the questions–the curiosity eat away at you as you move around the room, blowing out a few of the candles. 

“I can see the turmoil, Girl, ask and I will alleviate.” He smiles, sitting on his bed. 

“Apologies Dominus, I wish to know what mischief you sought out, or rather, sought you out? I cannot picture you a terror.” You take the basin away and he lets out a huff of laughter. 

“Do not lie to me, Girl. You have seen my dark moods, I am a terror often.” He waves away the expression of shock, “You know my meaning. In truth I can be brutal, I know this, but it is in battle. In my younger days, on the march I was unruly. I found it hard to follow commands, so sure of myself–to my detriment–that I knew better, that I was wiser than those above my station. I paid for it and learned, grew wise but in those early days, we were rebellious.” He smiles, fondness and the ghosts of his past fresh in his mind. 

You finish your duties as he speaks but are loathe to leave him, so you come closer, feigning at straightening out his sheets and fussing at his bed as he speaks. 

“I was also cruel.” The smile morphs then, into something ashamed.

“Cruel? I do not believe it Dominus–” He raises a hand and your speech dies.

“I was, Girl. Exceedingly cruel, to women. I broke many a heart, took the virginity offered without a care and left them without so much as a word.” He shuts his eyes tight then and the playful, cheerful mood is lost. “I was not concerned with their feelings, I cared not about their honour, I simply took, and left like the thief I was.” He stares at his hands and although it was true, it had been cruel of him, it was the way most soldiers were. No right, no wrong, just the way of this world. 

“Do you regret it, Dominus?” You stand before him again, the same tableau as before.

“Yes, I do, Girl. I regret the hurt I caused, the selfishness of youth.” 

“That is enough then, I think. That you feel it this deeply, that you would change it if you could, that is enough. You need torture yourself no more, Dominus.” Your palm cups his face and he leans into it with a pained expression for a moment before his arms wrap around your waist. His face nuzzles against the valley between your breasts and you feel the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Stay with me.” He pulls at your tunic, lifting it up and off in one swift motion before pressing kisses to your skin. There is a desire shining in his eyes. For your body, yes, but there are memories he is rewriting with you now, something kinder, something infused with more want, with love—the thought pops up and you brush it away.

“Do you not desire sleep Dominus? You had said the wine–oh–” His mouth takes your nipple in a steady suck, pulling a soft moan from your lips, and any and all concerns about his state out of your head. 

He pulls away, flattening his tongue against the bud before moving to the next. 

“No amount of wine could dampen my desire for you, Girl. Shall I stop?” He watches you, eyes locked as he takes the other nipple in his mouth and you shake your head no. His teeth bite, the little shock of pain heightens the pleasure and your fingers grip his hair harder than you mean to but it only makes him moan into your skin as he soothes with his tongue. 

Slick pools at the mouth of your cunt, the desire for him so great it makes you ache. A sharp, hollow pain, like hunger pangs for his gift, for his body, for his love something whispers again, and again you ignore it.

“God’s Girl, you bring out a madness in me–” He pulls you down, his kiss so feral it almost hurts. Teeth clicking while you taste his wine-drenched tongue. You move to straddle him but you barely manage to sit before you find yourself on your back in the bed you’d just prepared. 

His kiss is all-consuming, it is contagious–it pulls you into the depths of his madness. When he pulls away, you’re almost disoriented. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, Girl, let me see what’s mine.” You bite your lip, skin on fire as you obey. He kneels between your spread legs, hand slipping down to palm himself as he watches you slip your hand down towards the silky hair at the juncture of your thighs. “Spread it open, I would see how wet you are.” he strokes himself slowly, eyes glazed as you follow his instructions, spreading yourself wide for his gaze. 

It feels depraved in the best way, to have him watch you while he pleasures himself. There is a power flowing through your veins, something sweet and wicked and a boldness grabs hold of you. You dip your fingers low to spread the arousal onto your fingers, scoop some of it up to swirl against your clit. 

“This is what I do when you do not call for me, Dominus. I touch myself like this, and think of you.” His hand lands on your knee, holding your leg up as he moans, wantonly at your admission. 

“What do you think of Girl? Tell me–” He squeezes at his cock, brow furrowed while his eyes rake over you. 

“I think of you taking me Dominus, I think of how good you feel, how big you are, how I can feel you for days, how I want nothing more than for you to come into my chamber and make me yours.” Your fingers speed up, the pleasure heightened by the depravity of it. 

“Do you flutter at the thought of me giving you this?” He presses the tip of himself to your entrance, not pushing inside but letting you feel him there. 

“Yes–” It’s a pained moan. The blunt tip of him spreads you just enough to tease, it’s an exquisite torture, one that could make you cry with arousal. 

“Tell me you want it, tell me you’ll die without it, tell me you want me, Girl.” He leans forward a little, enough to make you chase the relief of him but his grip at your knee moves down to your hip, holding you there. Your fingers almost lose their rhythm. You let out a pitiful whine. 

“Tell me, and I’ll give it to you, tell me you want me, tell me–” He begs now, and you nod frantically. 

“I need you Dominus, I need you, I will die without you, I beg of you, give me the relief of your body.” Your tone is high, something frantic, something pathetic, something desperate but it soothes something in him. 

It’s a tidal wave when he shoves himself inside to the hilt. The climax spreads through every vein, through your fingers and toes through his steady strokes. He falls to cover your body with his, his tongue licking into your mouth, every nerve alight as he moans into your mouth, his cock spilling his own passion deep into your womb within a few seconds.

“God’s above, I, that was–” He breathes hard against your mouth, his eyes darting about your face as you both pulse in and around one another, “I–” He seems a little lost for words. The euphoria is still bright in your body, and so you save him from himself. You pull him down for a kiss, soft and languid as you run your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. 

“Shall I return to my chambers Dominus? Or shall I stay?” You push his hair back. The wine has made him forget himself, has made him forget that you are just his Girl, you have to remind him.

For the sake of your poor heart on the morrow.

“Stay.” You nod. 

–

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[thoughtssvt]

"darling..." nanami hummed, his hazel eyes peeking over the top of his thin, wire glasses. his book-filled hand dropping into his lap.

"handsome..." you responded back in the same tone, not even sparing a glance away from the text on your phone though you stopped reading as soon as he called for you.

"you know that's uncomfortable right?" kento continued his patient drone, book gently falling closed in his hand.

"what ever do you mean, kento?" you chimed lightly, holding your phone closer to your face to hide your growing grin.

"i mean, do you know that the ice cubes you're putting on my back are uncomfortable?" he clarified, lips tugging into a smirk as he gestured to your legs that so happened to disappear behind his back, cold feet seeking shelter under his shirt.

you gasped playfully, denying you would ever do such a thing.

"is that so?" he matched, shifting so his fingers could dance atop your ankles.

"no..." you warned, "kento, no!" you couldn't help a laugh from escaping, attempting to tug your legs closer to your body only to be stopped, nanami's hands encompassing your ankles. "kento, i'm serious!" despite your words there was no edge to it, chuckles filling in the spaces.

"what ever do you mean, darling?" he parroted with his charming smile, relaxed bangs brushing against his cheekbones as he continued his attacks up your legs, fingers tickling your skin, pushing you toward a breathless fit of cackles.

"i give up! i give up!" you rose your white flag, throat already feeling raw from the shrieks you let out at his very unfair combo to your sides. "i promise– i promise i won't put my feet under– under your shirt again!" you gasped out between giggles, hands shooting down to get his to stop.

by the time you'd caught your breath you two were already face to face, nanami craning his neck to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. "never stop, i'd warm your little ice cube toes even in the dead of winter."

"promise?" you asked before landing a gentle kiss against his jaw, smiling to yourself in mischief as you glued your ice-cold fingers to the sides of his torso, snorting lightly when you felt him go ridged, a slight shiver shaking his posture.

"oh, you are an absolute menace," he chuckled, keeping your hands against his body by sandwiching them under his own, your smiles intertwining, chuckles buzzing through your lips as he kept you warm and cozy despite your ice cube toes.

edit : i previously used the phrase "uncle! uncle!" (now reads: "i give up! i give up!"). i changed it for the clarification that nanami is not your uncle lol in the US it's a phrase you'd say (stemming from a 19th century joke) when you admit defeat and don't want to keep fighting anymore. thank you!

A/N : had me giggle and kicking my feet the entire time I wrote this. hoping to unite the fellow ice cube toes community. god I love him. thank yall for giving so much love to my first nanami x reader headcanon part. I hope yall enjoyed this too! thank you so much for reading ｡^‿^｡

j‹𝟹

sweet nanami x reader hcs pt. 1 | jjk men x reader masterlist

bread divider by @ymmyomm

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 03

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it. Carmilla and Velvet feud because I also live for that. I also really favor Zestial for some reason as a calm mediator.

Song for this chapter: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61

A/N: Thank you all so much for your positive feedback & feedback in general on the last two posts!! I really didn’t think this would catch so much attention but I’m so glad people like it. For some reason Tumblr’s being weird and doesn’t want to let me tag certain people, I don’t know why but if anyone does please let me know because I really don’t like that ;/ But I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! Please note that some blogs cannot be tagged, so I recommend checking this post and to check your settings to make sure I can tag you! If anything I can always just message you when the next chapter comes out, and yes I am making this series longer :) it’ll also be posted on my Wattpad soon!

Word count: 3890

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @iaaeav @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @pretty-puppy-stuffies @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @lunalixya

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part two. // Part four.

Engaging with guests throughout the night had become an exhausting endeavor, and a part of you yearned for the solace of your absence. Nevertheless, you maintained the façade, acknowledging every sinner whose smile dripped with crimson mischief. Having greeted each guest, you discreetly slipped into a shadowed corner, your shadows enveloping your figure quickly, seamlessly disappearing from the expansive room in mere seconds and emerging into an intimate gazebo outside, meticulously arranged beneath the sweeping branches of a weeping willow, you marveled at its unique ambiance. Unlike the earthly counterparts that stood white, the willow in your realm bore a deep crimson hue, its leaves adorned with a subtle, luminous sheen. A gentle smile graced your lips as you leaned against the sturdy black iron railing, delicately cradling a piece of the weeping willow between your fingertips. In the distance, the grand mansion hosting the gala loomed, its opulence contrasting with the simplicity of your secluded retreat. Despite the awareness of etiquette dictating against leaving guests unattended, the need for a mental break led you to this haven, a safe space for you. Reflecting, you acknowledged a desire for better preparation and rehearsal with the shadows, realizing the repetitiveness of conversations with the familiar sinners had rendered the night somewhat lackluster. It almost felt like you had come out of hiding for nothing. Quite the disappointment.

You sigh, massaging your temples, the lace fabric on your fingertips only slightly soothing the growing headache. However, not too far behind, you hear the sound of soft grass. You straighten up and turn around, seeing none other than your long time friend Zestial, who just smiled, nodding at you.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial inquired, standing by your side with his back against the railing. You resumed your original position, taking a moment to appreciate his father. Mentally noting how much of your grandfather Zestial reminded you of, you kept the sentiment unspoken.

Tonight, Zestial adorned himself in an outfit resonant with his time period, preserving his distinctive color scheme. A dark, meticulously tailored coat with lime green accents draped over his slender frame, capturing the essence of his demonic class. The cloak, adorned with lime green spider webs, unveiled a mesmerizing display when unfurled—his lime green eyes radiating, the upper pair embellished with vivid red irises. Instead of the customary big top hat, Zestial selected a smaller, more appropriate hat with a touch of flair. Dark as the shadows you command, it featured a light grey patch at the front and was finished with a grey-colored skull and a lime green and red-striped feather on the right side, adding a distinctive touch that mirrored his nature.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial repeated, shifting toward you a bit. Yet you resumed your original position, savoring the quiet ambiance before finally answering him. “What shall we discourse upon during our repast this eventide?” Zestial asked. Though his wording occasionally posed a challenge for others, having grown up in a family of eloquent speakers, you easily deciphered his intent. Something he truly appreciated. Though he was learning to speak more ‘modern’, or as modern as he could be.

“Quite unsure of that. Everything is changing, and I fear I might be left behind,” you expressed bluntly. Zestial sighed in response, a mix of understanding and concern evident in his lime green eyes.

“Madame, thou art timeless,” Zestial said with a bow, his cup proofing into smoke. “I pray thee, vex not thyself o’er so trivial a matter,” he added, his words resonating with both reassurance and genuine care.

You nodded, handing him a card. His surprised expression upon finding two cards instead of one didn’t escape you. “What manner of thing is this?” Zestial inquired, prompting you to summon a shadow for yourself, knowing he would find his own means back to the Gala.

“Carmilla. I am no fool to the both of you,” you said, amusement coloring your words as Zestial shook his head.

“Thou dost astonish me on every occasion,” Zestial remarked, standing by your side as you walked into your portal. Two seats vanished, leaving four empty seats at your table and six occupied.

In your study, you floated scripts in front of you, checking off names on the table list for tonight. With a few overlords left to choose from, Alastor and Charlotte secured seats based on trust and connections. Vox, Zestial, and Carmilla, an unspoken but potent couple, promised intrigue. Reconsidering Velvet for her potential devolution, you weighed each decision with strategic acumen.

Valentino, the Von Eldritch twins, and other weaker options were dismissed, maintaining a careful balance of power and influence. As you weigh the option of inviting Rosie to the gathering, her unpredictable nature adds a layer of excitement and potential surprise to the upcoming discussions. However, this unpredictability could also introduce challenges, creating an air of uncertainty around her contributions. Hopefully with Alastor around, she’d feel more inclined to behave. You check her name off the list.

In considering Stolas, the Goetia prince, his personal issues and tarnished reputation pose significant hurdles. Divorcing from his wife, sleeping with an imp for fun, as well as losing control of his daughter on Earth, it all seemed too risky to get involved with. While his wisdom and influence could contribute positively, the shadows of his struggles may complicate the dynamics, stirring potential conflicts and requiring delicate handling. Someone might get out of line with a comment towards him. His power was incredibly useful, but not worth the risk.

Husk’s transformation from a former overlord to a bartender signals a decline in power and status. While his laid-back demeanor might bring a sense of unpredictability, his diminished influence raises questions about the relevance of his involvement in the current political landscape of hell. Though he was your friend, you needed to keep your reputation pristine.

As the you contemplate the overlords assets, a mix of excitement, caution, and uncertainty envelops the decision-making process. Each overlord’s potential positive contributions are balanced by the looming negatives.

“Madame?” One of your shadows materialized, prompting a nod for them to proceed. “There seems to be some trouble in the lobby between the guests. What would you like us to do?” it inquired. A grimace crossed your face, hoping the disturbance wouldn’t mar your night. “Let me handle it,” you declared, snapping your fingers, causing the script to vanish. The shadow nodded, blending back into a wall for you to step through.

Upon reappearing, you assumed the form of a taller shadow. The room surrounded by guests revealed Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla standing in the middle. Zestial, seemingly composed, stood close behind Carmilla, observing the situation. Carmilla appeared visibly upset, with Velvet in proximity, a pointed finger dropping as soon as she noticed your arrival. Alastor maintained his usual wide smile, though it bordered on the eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The scene unfolded, presenting a potential challenge to the serene atmosphere you aimed to maintain during the gala.

Everyone seemed to stop, slowly turning toward you to see your face. Except there was no expression, just the large shadow you had taken form of. In seconds the shadow disappeared, leaving you in the fog, the expression on your face anything but calm.

"Madame I-" Velvet began, but her words were halted by the sight of your lace glove, your hand rising to silence her. Approaching the overlords, you spoke with an air of cold authority.

"My quarters. Now," you commanded, and with a snap of your fingers, smoke enveloped your spot as you vanished. Shadows materialized around the overlords, guiding them to your quarters, leaving the stunned guests in the lobby.

"Well, that was interesting," Valentino remarked.

In your study, the overlords found you seated in your tall, black chair. Its ebony surface featured intricate carvings of black glass, elegant swirls, and patterns tailored to your essence, creating an atmosphere of undeniable authority and refinement.

"I hope you all had fun acting like children," you chided sternly. The overlords lined up, forming a unified front. Leaning against the right side of your chair, you crossed your legs, elbow on the armrest, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh. Annoyance laced your words as you questioned, "What did you feel the need to argue about now?" Before Velvet, Vox, and Carmilla could respond simultaneously, you halted them. "One at a time. I'd assume you all handle this like adults, if you even can." The tension in the room hung thick as the overlords awaited their turn to address your inquiry.

“She wants me at her table Vaggie! Me!” Charlotte said excitedly. Vagatha just smiled.

“That’s good! Now you can tell them about the hotel, and maybe someone will be interested.” Vagatha said, and Charlotte just nodded.

“Maybe they-“ Charlotte stopped, observing as people began to crowd around the center of the lobby. Charlotte and Vagatha stood from their spots at the bar to walk toward the center, where the overlords stood. Velvet and Vox were next to each other, while Carmilla, Alastor and Zestial were across. Carmilla and Velvet were face to face. “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked as Vagatha and her pushed their way through the crowds of people.

“Come on, Carmilla, always the mood-killer,” Velvet scoffed, a disrespectful tone tainting her words. Carmilla shot her a stern look, ready to assert her authority.

“Watch that tongue, Velvet. I will not let your insolence slide,” Carmilla retorted, attempting to rein in the escalating tension.

Vox, ever the smooth talker, chimed in, “Ladies, ladies, let’s not turn this into a drama fest. We’re all here for a reason.” Vox said, sternly giving a tight lipped smile to Velvet, silently telling her to keep her shit together.

Carmilla shot a glare at Velvet, who replied with a defiant smirk, “Drama or not, Vox, some of us aren’t here for the ballroom charm.”

Alastor, drawn to the brewing chaos, couldn’t resist adding his flair, “Well, well, a bit of spice never hurt a party, does it?”

Carmilla, unfazed by the chaos, spoke with a calm authority, “Velvet, your insolence is unnecessary. This is not a playground; it’s a gathering of overlords. Act accordingly.”

Velvet, seemingly undeterred, shot back with a dismissive laugh, “Poor Grandma, always trying to play the responsible one. Maybe loosen up a bit? Have a drink will you?”

Vox, ever the smooth talker, added with a slick comment, “Perhaps we can focus on the matters at hand. Save the theatrics for later ladies.”

Alastor, intrigued by the unfolding drama, simply grinned, “Oh the picture box has spoken! Quite intriguing.” The room continued to buzz with tension as each overlord, except Rosie, added their own flavor to the brewing turmoil. As the tension thickened, Vox, with a sly grin, couldn't resist adding his own slick comment to the mix.

"Ah, Alastor, the radio days were quaint, but it seems you're a bit outdated. Television is the future, perhaps you should tune in sometime," he quipped with a wink, the words delivered with a calculated smoothness. The room momentarily hung in a charged silence before the verbal sparring resumed, adding another layer to the complex interplay of personalities at the gala.

With Vox's comment about Alastor being outdated sinking in, the radio demon responded with a sly grin, sharp teeth on display, his eyes displays dials, as the rooms lights began to deepen, "Ah, Vox, your television endeavors are impressive, but remember, I'm not just audible; I'm unforgettable. A little screen time won't change that," he retorted, “This face was made for radio.” He said with a grin, tilting his head to the side, a sharp snap in his neck, his words carrying a mix of amusement and confidence. The verbal exchange between the two overlords added another layer to the already charged atmosphere, each comment becoming a piece in the intricate puzzle of conflicts and egos at the gala.

“See what you did grandma, now you’ve got the two of them fighting.” Velvet said, pointing a finger into Carmella’s chest. She scoffed, shoving her away.

“Don’t you dare get disrespectful on me you brat.” Carmilla said, beginning to heat up with anger.

That's when Madame stepped in, reappearing in the form of a taller shadow, casting a lengthened silhouette in the room brimming with guests. Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla found themselves at the center of the unfolding tableau, and Zestial, seemingly composed, lingered just behind Carmilla, quietly observing the escalating drama. Carmilla's visage betrayed a hint of distress, her pointed finger lowering as she registered your reappearance. Alastor, with his trademark grin, bordered on eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The unfolding scene disrupted the serene atmosphere you had meticulously aimed to maintain during the gala, presenting an unexpected challenge.

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned their gaze toward you, anticipating your reaction. However, your face remained expressionless, concealed within the depths of the large shadow you had taken form of. In mere seconds, the shadow dissipated, leaving you in a misty veil. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a storm brewed, ready to challenge the delicate balance of the evening.

Now, here you all were, sitting in the study after Carmilla had explained the situation.

“Madame, with all due respect,” Carmilla spoke, looking down. “I truly do not believe Velvet is mature enough to be at our table tonight.” Carmilla said.

“Are you questioning my judgment?” You asked sharply, to which Carmilla stiffened quickly, shaking her head then.

”No Madame, I would never-“

“Then do not say foolish things.” You said. Sighing, you shut your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. Tonight sensitive information would be revealed and Carmilla did have some point here. Velvet clearly could not hold her tongue.

”Vox, control your associate please, or you both will be cut from the dinner tonight.” You said finally, to which he nodded nervously.

“Of course Madame.” He said, nodding to you.

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, looking to Alastor.

“I want none of this technology talk either.” You spoke, staring at Alastor who just smiled with lidded eyes. You knew he was very much upset, but you had forbidden anyone to fight in your home, anyone but you of course. “You all will act like mature adults wether you like it or not. I am not your guardian, I should not be having this conversation with overlords who should know better.” You said, standing. ”Now, all of you, out.” You said, snapping your fingers. Quickly the shadows began to move, ushering everyone out of your study. Everyone except Carmilla. “Not you.” You said to her, Zestial nodding to you and her as he stepped out, giving you both privacy.

“Madame, I didn’t mean what I said-“ Carmilla said quickly. You waved her off, straightening yourself out.

“Nonsense Carmilla, I know you meant well.” You said with a stoic expression. You sit back down, crossing your legs and snapping your fingers to form a chair in front of your desk, ushering her to sit. “I wanted to speak to you about your weapons.” You stated. At this her eyes went wide, before dropping again.

“Oh, very well then. What would you like to know?” She asked. You grinned, before standing again.

“Well, how much would I need to give you for you to make me a personal bayonet?” You asked. She went silent for a moment, before answering.

“Nothing at all Madame.” She said, standing to look at you. “May I ask what for?” She questioned. You shook your head.

“No, just to have on display. I want a new one, the old one I have is quite out of style for me.” You replied. She just nodded, before you waved to her, sitting back down and summoning a script again. “You may go now, and please, do not argue with children.” You commented. She just smiled and nodded, leaving you to your own vices.

It was half-past eleven, five minutes till the midnight bells chime. Everyone in the lobby was beginning to get excited for the entertainment you had planned for the night. Oh, you knew you would not disappoint.

“Madame would like everyone to accompany her on a journey tonight. She has sent me to retrieve you all. She would like to formally welcome you to tonight’s entertainment.” The large shadow said, standing from the topic of the stairs. Behind it was a large portal. It stepped backwards, into the portal, and nodded for the guests to start coming through.

The custom-built coliseum stands as a testament to Madame's vision, a grand fusion of opulence and dark elegance. The circular structure boasts towering columns, but instead of conventional pillars, thick chains rise, intricately linked and serving as both ornamental decor and structural support. The arches, molded in black, curve gracefully around the circumference, evoking a Victorian Gothic aesthetic that permeates the entire venue.

Two larger-than-life statues of Madame herself flank the entrance, capturing her regal poise and adding a touch of imposing authority. The statues serve not only as decorative elements but as a representation of the gala's hostess, a constant presence overseeing the proceedings, she is always watching, all seeing, perfection.

The overall ambiance is one of grandeur and mystery, with the black molding on the arches casting shadows that play into the darker undertones. Every intricate detail, from the chains to the statues, contributes to the unique Victorian Gothic feel of the coliseum, matching Madame’s home perfectly, matching her perfectly. The venue, finally being unveiled to the guests, now welcomes them who are treated to an appetizer course, surrounded by the striking architecture and entertained within the darkly enchanting atmosphere Madame has meticulously crafted.

Numerous shadows, dark and formless, line the entrance walls, extending silent greetings to the arriving guests. Their presence adds an air of mystique and intrigue as they blend seamlessly with the Gothic architecture. As attendees make their way into the coliseum, these shadowy figures create an ethereal welcome, embodying the unique atmosphere of Madame's custom-built venue.

At a separate entrance reserved for the handpicked members of Madame's esteemed dinner table, a solitary shadow stands guard. This entrance, reserved for a select few, hints at the exclusivity and importance of those who will partake in the upcoming dinner. The shadowy sentinels serve not only as silent greeters but also as guardians of the event's secrets, casting an enigmatic allure over the gala.

A singular shadows escorts Charlotte, Alastor, and the rest of the overlords to the exclusive section, leading them to an elevator to bring them to the best seats in the coliseum. The elevator’s interior is a striking display of elegance, with white and black checkered flooring lending a timeless touch. The walls, enveloped in darkness, exude an air of mystery, while black, smokey glass engravings on the ceiling add intricate detailing that dances in the ambient light. Each number on the elevator, indicating the ascending levels, glows a vibrant red, creating a vivid contrast against the monochrome palette.

“Oh I’m so excited! What do you think we’re gonna see? Gladiators? Sinners fight? Oh actually I hope not, I don’t want people to die.” Charlotte said to Alastor. Carmilla just chuckled at her antics while Zestial eyed her with curiosity. Where did Alastor find such a girl and why the princess of all people?

The elevator stops at the top floor, revealing the opening in the middle, which was surprisingly covered with water.

“What is Madame playing at?” Carmilla questioned as the overlords sat in a row at the top. From there they could see everything and everyone.

“I am quite uncertain, yet my anticipation is stirred nonetheless.” Zestial said. The lights around began to dim, and shadows began to pour glasses of water in front of all the guests. Down in the middle of the coliseum was the tallest shadow, the one that seemed to be Madame’s favorite, since it always spoke for her.

“Greetings all. It is Madame’s pleasure to invite you all to the special entertainment tonight. Madame has put together some of hell’s finest performers for your entertainment tonight. I would like to present, preforming here tonight, The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra preforming Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61.” The shadow said with a bow, before it vanished just as quick as it came. Then, other shadows appeared, but this time they were different. They were people, performers, with clear outlined silhouettes, faces and expressions, even clothes.

“Hey, Al?” Charlotte asked, leaning over in her seat to Alastor. He let out a ‘hm?’ In response.

“Does Madame own those souls down there?” Charlotte whispered, but before Alastor could answer, a shadow had already cut in.

“Yes. All the shadows here, even yours, Madame owns.” The shadow said quietly, filling Charlotte’s glass cup with water. Charlotte nervously, perked up, but said nothing as she shadow carried on with it’s catering.

The ethereal notes of the music filled the air as the performance unfolded. Around the musicians stood ballet dancers, their movements a delicate poetry in motion. Clad in all black, the performers created a stark contrast to the dancers, who emerged with an otherworldly grace akin to figures rising from the depths of water. The dancers moved with an angelic fluidity, their forms intertwining seamlessly with the haunting melody, creating a mesmerizing tableau that captivated the audience. The visual symphony of black-clad musicians and the whisky-hued ballet dancers painted a scene of enchantment and mystery within the grand coliseum. Even down to the dancers, this had Madame written all over it.

Velvet's keen eye captured the essence of the dancers' ethereal movements on paper. With each stroke of her sketch, she depicted the dancers as if emerging from a watery abyss, the fog enveloping their feet creating an illusion of water flowing upward. The intricate details on her sketch paper brought to life the dancers' graceful forms, their figures seemingly intertwined with the rising mist, evoking the enchantment of a waterspout captured in a moment of sublime artistry. Velvet's artistic interpretation added a layer of depth to the performance, transforming the ephemeral dance into a tangible and captivating visual narrative.

Water had begun to swirl, the dancers moving around it, the water getting taller and taller, similar to the way it had when you had first made your entrance at the beginning of the Gala. Now, it was water, and from Charlotte’s seat, she had struggled to make out what was going on. She turned to Alastor to see him holding a pair of opera glasses in his hand. Without you having to ask, he tapped the armrest of her seat. Charlotte turned to the side to see a pair tucked neatly against the front of the armrest. She grabbed them quickly, before looking through them and at the waterspout now forming in the middle. Her jaw flew open, as well as the loud screech of Alastor’s track playing. Vox had short circuited, and Carmilla gasped loudly. Velvet stood silent, but there was evident confusion on her face, while Zestial sunk into his seat, conflicting emotions flowing through him.

“Madame- she’s-“ Charlotte stuttered, and Alastor nodded, swallowing thickly.

“With an exorcist. I know.”