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#that’s the kind of love i’m striving for
camelidae · 2 days
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Art tour of my room/studio! I caught the bug for buying little pieces from other artists to brighten up my space a few years ago – it’s addicting! (and wonderful!) I want to make sure I get everyone’s names in here (at least the ones who have an online presence), so be ready for a long post! 
It always feels a little ignomious hanging art in my bathroom, but I get distracted brushing my teeth a lot so it’s important there’s nice stuff to look at! I love my big crocodile print by Amanda Myers so much. He’s so Green and so lovely and he has so many teeth to contemplate while I brush my own.
I felt a little bad putting this magnificent tiger by Paleopanthera (paleopanthera.com) above the toilet, but the colors just work so nice and it makes my bathroom look so rad ;~; Do you think the tiger’s mad at me? Does he look mad?
I got this little scrollwork shelf from ScrollSawArtbyBC (etsy) and I love it so much! Makes a perfect little nook for my sink things~
And who is this peeking out from some of my nature treasures? Why it’s one of Becca Jane’s little blue snakes (BeccaJane.com). One day I’m going to save up my pennies and buy one of her big beautiful platters and on it I will serve the prettiest of pastas~
Also adorning my nature shelf is this beautiful mix-media plaque by Cephasparagus (insta). She also seems to adore collecting little bits of nature like an aesthetic magpie - my kind of gal!
I have a bevy of these little animal prints by Amanda Myers (Admers on etsy) on my walls – I love how combine with my pressed leaves and flowers to bring that "forest hermit" vibe I've always strived for.
The stained glass folk flower piece is from Leadleaf_ (insta) - it really makes my little terrarium corner look cozy and magical!
I got my Artistic License and my Poetic License from Kenspeckle Press (kenspeckleletterpress.com) - they didn’t even make me take an aesthetics test or metaphorically parallel park. (Plus another beautiful thank you card from Amanda Myers.)
The little kitty mug from Heikala (heikala.com) is what I drink iced cocoa from almost daily. I like how the ice clicks on the enamel <3
I still maintain that the embroidered flower pendant from DandelionDoiley (etsy) is the cutest thing that I own. Feels like holding a jewel! And the Hope pendant from BonbiForest (etsy) is such a lovely design with cheerful colors <3 The hummingbird I got from a local artist on a trip to Yellowstone, and the gold pendant is from a local artist where I live!
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hotgirlgraps · 11 months
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this 96 year old man was a patient of mine today and he talked about his wife nonstop and showed me a picture of her from 1967 that he keeps in his wallet and if you think i didn’t cry in the car over that you’re wrong
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ceylonsilvergirl · 1 year
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Excoriation tw, ocd tw, dermatillomania tw, depression tw
I’ve been pretty kind to myself about my excoriation/dermatillomania. It’s not like I want to be doing it, I’m in consultation with my therapist, psychiatrist and my general practitioner about it, I’ve been taking cbt classes for it, bought fidget toys to distract myself with, and am taking a couple different medications to help manage my feelings that lead to it…
But the nurses’s distress at seeing the extent of it broke my heart. I know it’s bad. No, it’s not bug bites. No it’s not allergies. No, it’s not a virus or a drug reaction. It’s clear to see my self-inflicted wounds are only in places I can easily reach. But I do know how extensive it is.
I’ve just been trying to keep myself alive the last few years. I’m doing much better than I used to, but I know without a doubt that my route to healing is longer and more complex than I would have hoped.
I think I buried my shame, and now it’s time to address it.
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myladysapphire · 3 months
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High Infidelity
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scorned and betrayed by your husband, you find solace in the arms of his uncle.
based of this request
word count: 2,455
CW: MDI, 18+, smut, cheating (both reader and Aemond), p in v, oral (f reciving) fingering, slight violence (legit a single punch), name calling. not proofread!
Gwayne Hightower x fem!reader/Aemondswife!reader
Masterlist
authors note: Gwayne is Alicents youngest brother in the books, but apparently he is the oldest brother in the show, but i’m still gonna make him younger than Alicent, who’s about 34, so in my head gwayne is around 30-32, and reader is older than Aemond.
He was with her again.
every night it seemed he would leave you. His wife. In favour of her.
You didn’t know who she was, were he met or, if she lived in the keep or in flea bottom.
All you knew is that he spent night after night alone with her.
He would come back smelling of wine and her perfume.
The smell seeping into your bedsheets.
The bed he insisted on sharing , even after fucking another woman.
After calling you ugly.
saying he never would have chosen you, not for your brain and certainly not your looks.
It wasn’t that you were ugly. Just that your hair was untamed, your clothes never quite fitting right.
It was the little things he picked on, insecurities you had noticed time and time again. And though you had strived to change these insecurities. Spending the crowns money on dresses from the best dressmakers, on hair oils from Essos. Aemond still found a way to make you feel insecure.
He loved to point out the insecurities, loved to belittle you, loved to bring to light insecurities you never knew you had.
You had been married nearly three years now, had provided him with both a son and daughter and yet to him you were still not enough.
The words of love and kindness he once gave you, in the first few months of your marriage, vanished. And in said cruel tormenting words replaced them.
Instead, those sweet words were now given to her.
And you were left all alone.
But a scorned woman is not a quite one, you did not shout or argue with him, no. you set your sights elsewhere.
To the man you had once know and loved, the man you had met before him. The man you had once longed to marry in Aemond’s stead.
His uncle, Gwayne Hightower.
Had your parents not craved status and the ideas of their grandchildren and princes and princess, you might have been able to marry him.
You were a daughter of house Redwyne, a noble house known for its fleet and riches.
And though you had grown up in the Arbor, your family had sent you away to Oldtown when you became of age, to win the favour of Otto Hightower and the potential match between you and one of his Targaryen grandchildren.
And though it had worked, with you being summoned by him to kings landing where you found yourself courting your now husband, Prince Aemond.
Though you had first, found yourself besotted with Gwayne.
A dashing knight, who had crowned you the queen of love and beauty at your first ever tourney.
He had won your heart only for it to be swiftly pulled form his grasp as you were summoned to kings landing on by Otto hightower.
You had never truly forgotten about him, even in the years you had gone since seeing him.
Then your wedding came, and as uncle of the groom of course he came.
And throughout the whole ceremony your eyes were drawn to his, wishing it was him you were saying your vows to.
But as fleeting as your love for him was, so was his presence. For he swiftly left after the wedding.
But not before whispering the words you had dreamed of hearing.
you swiftly found yourself married to an insecure man, who had too found himself a place in your heart, however small.
In those three years since your wedding, three years since you had seen him. You had thought you had grown to love…if not care for your husband.
And you had thought he had to, the words “I love you” really selling his lies. And now he betrayed you, night after night.
It hurt, and gods were you angry.
Everyone knew of his infidelity.
His lust for this other woman.
And though you didn’t know of it, not truly. For all you wished to do was deny it.
Doing everything in your power to imagine another reason for his disappearance, for his wine-soaked lips and rose scented body.
His drunken remakes about your appearance, how he hated your hair, your eyes. How you weren’t her.
Then as time passed the remakes turned hateful, as if you were keeping him from her.
And so the once words of beauty and love turned to ugly hate.
You had tried to not believe his remarks,
Hoping that a apart of him only craved an old love, just as you did.
Then Aegon came into your room, drunk in grief and yet finding so much humour in your husband’s affair he could barley get the words out.
He and laughed and laughed until he saw the tears in his sister in laws face.
He had regretted it instantly, though you could tell he still found humour in Aemond’s actions.
He claimed it was the woman he paid for Aemond to lose his virginity too, how she must have such a hold on him after all these years.
And as he watched the silent angry tears fall from your face, he had run out of the room, apologising as he did.
A week passed since then.
War was declared.
Lords and knight arriving, preparing for orders.
One knight in particular arrived, Gwayne Hightower.
You watched as he rode into the red keep.
His tired raged, yet no less handsome form, jumping of his horse.
His sister, the queen, greeting him.
You had raced down the steps, far to egar to see him.
And yet it all seemed to happen in slow motion.
His eye turning to you. A soft smile filling his face.
He bowed slightly, smiling even more as you returned with your own.
Lifting your hand to his mouth, in a slow gentle kiss.
Your eyes never leaving the others.
A cough had broken your hazes, his hand still clasping yours as you both turned to Alicent.
“Daughter” she greeted, her gaze questioning as she took you both in.
There was a fair age difference between you both, though you were older than Aemond, Gwayne was still years your senior. You were sure to Alicent it must seem strange almost, how close you seemed, close enough to greet him, to smile and kiss each others hand.
“You know my brother?” she asked, her gaze never leaving your joined hands.
You slowly separated your hand from his, though the slight caress of your fingers was sure to raise Alicent’s eyebrow’s.
“Yes, from my years in old town” you said, finally breaking eye contact with Gwayne.
“ah” she said, uncertain of what to make of your friendship with one another, “I am glad my brother has another friendly face, here at court.”
“As am I” Gwayne mused “it has been years since I last saw you, my lady.”
“Since the wedding I believe” Alicent interjected, finding the need to remined you both  of your marital status.
“Ah yes, how is my nephew?” he asked, eyes fixed on your face, taking in every emotion passing between your eyes.
“I don’t know ser, may haps you should check the brothels and tell me yourself” you said, glancing to Alicent to see her reaction.
She pierced her lips, seemingly shocked at the notion “I am sure that- “
“ask the king if you must, I learnt it from him, though the wine and perfume was more than another hint for me” you mused, turning back to Gwayne “I shall show you to your chambers, ser” you said, before Alicent could say anything more in the matter.
Lacing your arm through his, you weaved your way through the red keep. Finding your conversations never ending as if no time had passed at all.
“I have missed you” you breathed as you entered his chambers.
Finally, alone after all these years.
He smiled, a true smile one that he only reserved for you.
Though there was some trepidation, uncertainty, in his gaze.
As if he knew that despite having you first, being your first everything, you would never be his.
“I am sure no more that I have” he mused.
“I doubt that” you whispered, sadness clear in your tone.
“What do you mean?” he said, scowling “has my nephew done something?”
“i-“ you were unsure of what to say.
It had been years since you had seen him. And though you had sent letters back and forth, they were restrained. Finding it hard to talk as you once did, be as open as you once had.
But as you looked at him, you saw everything you had ever craved, ever desired. Everything you had been deprived of for three long years.
“what” he prompted, moving closer to you.
“he is cruel…he has a lover in the city and only hates me for not being her” you sneered.
“And do you hate him?” he asked, his hand reaching for yours once again.                                                                                                                                       
“I resent him…but I understand him. He only treats me how I wish I could treat him; he says the words I crave to say to him, act the way I crave to act…with you” you said, your faces so close that you were sharing your breaths.
“I never stopped wishing I had stolen you away that night, married you in his stead” he breathed, “I hate that he Is cruel…I j=had hoped you found love in his arms not hatred… I cannot but feel guilty” he said, his mouth kissing the corner of yours.
“We should have ran away…gotten married for love and ran from our duty” you agreed as he peppered kisses down your neck, his breath caressing your skin.
He hummed against your neck, his fingers playing with the laces on your back.
“please” you begged, moving his arm to grasp you, to pull you close to him.
Unlacing your dress, he started to pepper kisses down your chest.
“gods, I missed this sight” he groaned, kissing around your breasts.
You were insecure, having had two children, and year of belittling on your appearance. You went to cover yourself, only for Gwayne to tear your arms away from you, pinning them behind your back, as he stripped the remained of your clothes off of you.
He descended down your body, leaving hot kisses as he went, until he finally reached your wet cunt.
He gave a slow, tortuous lick through your folds.
Groaning at the taste of you, he moved his head further into your thighs , locking and tasting your cunt like you were his last meal.
moaning in pleasure, your hands, moved from his hold and reached down to clutch to grip his hair, tightening when he finally found your bud.
Focusing is efforts on your small bud of nerves, he sucked and licked at your bud, slowly bringing his fingers to your entrance.
Slowly pushing into you, your cunt hot and tight, from a year of neglect.
Your hips ground themselves against his face, soon loosing yourself to the pleasure as  he pumped his fingers in and out of you.
You peaked, as his third finger entered you. The pleasure overwhelming, and near too much as he continued to lap up your juices as you peaked all over his face.
Finaly moving from your thighs, he backed away from you, moving to stand, before pushing you down onto his bed.
Standing back from you, he ever so slowly took of his own clothes, revelling his toned chest and his hard thick cock.
Slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours he finally took your lips with his.
Your first kiss with him in years.
It was hot messy and desperate.
Everything you needed craved and loved.
His tongue danced with yours, as he pulled your legs apart positioning himself between your thighs.
He pulled back from your lips, his eyes connecting with yours as he slowly pushed in side.
He filled you in a way Aemond never had, his cock hitting that one spot of nerves, only he had ever found, again and again as he thrusted his hips into you.
He moved to kiss you once more, his hips pumping faster and faster as he did.
You had never felt so perfect, so lost in pleasure as the sweet spot was hit over and over again.
Your second peak fast approaching, and you had turned into a moaning mess.
Grasping desperate to him as you both peaked, and he spilled his seed inside you.
Your breaths were heavy, your bodies still attacked as you both effused to leave the others hold.
That as until the door open, and her husband strolled in.
“uncle-“ he started, clearing coming to greet Gwayne, only to find you in his arms “wife?!” he sneered.
Gwayne moved to stand, covering himself quickly as he moved to hide you from Aemond, “nephew! How delightful!” he said in mock joy.
“what is she doing here?” he sneered, eyes darting around Gwayne body, trying to reach your eyes.
“what is it to you?” Gwayne drawled.
“she is my wife!”
“is she?” Gwayne laughed, “then perhaps you should treat her as such and not leave her to run of with your little whores!” Gwayne said, tone filled with rage.
Of course he knew of Aemodsn doing, of his treatment of his sweet lady, his siter had told him, ashamed of both her sons treatment of their wives.
And even if she hadn’t told him, the rumours of Aemond’s affairs had long travelled to the reach.
“you forget yourself!”
“I do not, you have treated her like a whore! As if she is worth nothing when she is worth the world!”
“so, you fucked her, because I am such a bad husband?” Aemond sneered, his eyes gleaming with rage.
“gods, are you that vain? This has nothing to do with you Aemond” you interjected.
“Nothing? Nothing to do with me? You are my wife!”
“I am not a broodmare! I am not owned by you just because we are married!” you said, standing from the bed, only a sheet covering your body.
“then what? You mean to say you are in love” he said mockingly.
“yes” you both responded at the same time, your eyes connecting and speaking in only a language you both spoke.
“you whore-” he started,. But Gwayne acted fast, landing a smooth and quick punch at Aemond. Knocking him clean out on the floor.
Your eyes locked in shock, releasing what had happened, and before you knew it your clothes were thrown on, bags packed and your children in your arms as you ran and caught the first both to Essos.
Away from your husband and the gods forsaken war that would have only lead to your doom.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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A Friendly Proposition
Based on this request: Hi mae!!! Would you be open to writing tasm!peter parker or Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you (wink wink) -- Thank you for requesting!! I chose Remus for this but I would love to do some Peter smut in the future if anyone has any ideas :)
cw: smut mdni, fingering, not necessarily inexperienced reader but kind of has that vibe, basically smut no plot
bestfriend!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words
“I dunno, I guess overall it was fine.” 
“Fine?” Remus looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, one eyebrow lifted in that way you don’t think he knows he does. You’re sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, attempting to cover up a particularly bad hickey your date from last night had left you as a parting gift. His reflection has a wry twist to its mouth. “I should hope it was more than just fine.” 
You shrug, tilting your head to dab at the makeup on your neck. “Not the best, not horrible. I’d call it thoroughly average.” 
Your friend hisses sympathetically through his teeth. “Not the sort of rave review most guys strive for. If I left someone with a mark like that, I’d hope I made it worth their while.” 
You can’t keep your lips from curving. “I didn’t say it wasn’t worthwhile.” 
“Did he at least make you cum?” 
You cough in surprise. “At least?” You turn around, giving him a disbelieving look. 
Remus’ answering expression is equally incredulous. 
“How common do you think that is?” you ask him. 
The eyebrow lifts higher. “Well, now I’m not sure, but I’ve never had any problems.” 
You scoff, turning back to the mirror. “That’s because you’re a guy.” 
“No,” Remus says, amusement tingling in his tone. “I mean, yes, but I meant I’ve never had any problems making other people cum.” 
“Seriously?” You freeze with your hand upheld awkwardly above your neck. You’re doing your best to make this conversation feel casual, but sometimes having an attractive guy for a best friend can get confusing, and the room is starting to feel a tad warm despite the open windows. “Like, what’s your success rate?” 
“What’s yours?” 
“I asked you first.” 
Remus’ lips twitch, fondness beneath his exasperation. “For women specifically?”
“Sure.” 
He nods, expression turning pensive. “I can’t be exactly sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m constantly fucking loads of women.” He says it so offhandedly, but just the language makes a tickle of warmth start up in your cheeks. “There were a couple who didn’t, when I was younger, still learning, but since then it’s been fairly high.” 
You swallow. You wonder what the learning had entailed, what Remus had picked up that you and anyone you’ve hooked up with hasn’t. It’s typically not for a lack of trying, though some certainly invest more time into the ambition than others. You can’t say you’ve even tried that hard yourself, not in a while and not since you’ve reckoned with the idea that it may simply not happen for you. It feels like a pointless exercise. 
You break from your reverie when you notice Remus watching you in the mirror. 
“Your turn,” he prompts. 
“You can’t make fun of me.” 
“You know I wouldn’t.” 
You absolutely do not know that, he loves to tease, but he’s right in that you don’t think he would about this. You catch yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, and stop. 
You do your best to affect his unflappable blasé when you say, “Zero, so far.” 
That blasé hardly holds up now. Remus sits straight up. “Never? Not once?” 
You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you focus on covering the spot on your neck. “Nope.”
“Not even by yourself?” 
“You make it sound like it’s so easy.” There’s some bitterness in your tone as you tilt your head up, inspecting your work in the light. “I haven’t tried in a while, because I was never able to. I got sick of it.” 
“Oh, sweetheart.” 
You try not to melt. Remus will call you that, from time to time, but given the context of your conversation you wish he wouldn’t. Suddenly his room feels a little bit smaller, the atmosphere more private than before.
You look at his reflection, expecting to find teasing in his expression, but it’s thoughtful. Contemplative. 
“You said you wouldn’t make fun,” you remind him. “I feel like that should also include feelings of pity. Let’s not act like it’s some great tragedy to not have cum before.” 
“No, I’m…it’s not that. You’re right, there are worse fates.” One corner of his lips curves slightly, and you mirror him, relieved. “I was just thinking that I could…well, I might be able to help.” 
“What?” A little laugh trips off your tongue. Your face is really feeling warm now. “Do you have some kind of manual or something?”
“Would you want my help?”
“Is there a diagram you’re going to show me? Trust me, I’ve seen those.” 
“Answer the question, love.” 
You set your makeup down, expelling a breath. Meet his eyes in the mirror with a shrug. “Yeah. Sure, I’d be curious.” 
Remus studies you. Analytical hazel eyes and a map of scars you would know blind. “Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, but I could show you, if you’d like.” 
Your breath seems to stall in your lungs. “On…” you trail off, not wanting to misunderstand him. 
“On you,” he confirms. “Would you want that?” 
You’re nodding before you can think enough to speak. Your head feels slow and fuzzy, like you’re navigating a dream. “Yeah,” you manage. “If you’re alright with that.” 
“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Remus spreads his legs open on the bed, patting the space between them. “C’mere, love.” 
“What—like, now?” 
“Do you have another engagement?” He gives you a little smile. It squishes the scar underneath his left eye adorably, but when you hesitate he sobers. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 
You shake your head, and it’s like your body remembers how to move, propelling you up from your seated position. “No, sorry, I’m good with this. I think I’m just a bit nervous.” 
“That’s alright,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be, though. It’s only me.” 
You see his eyes drop to your mouth, and you let your lip slip from between your teeth a second time. Remus is right. If there’s anyone you should be comfortable learning this with, it’s him. 
When you go to crawl up on the bed, he stops you. “Probably want to lose the pants first,” he suggests. 
Right. You set your fingers to the button, and it seems to fly open of its own regard. You feel Remus’ eyes on you as you slide them over your hips and step out. 
“Underwear too, or…” 
“No, we’ll keep those for now.” Remus holds a hand out for you, and you get up onto the bed, letting him help you settle in between his legs. It’s impossible not to be conscious of the feel of his pants against your bare skin, or how comfortably he wraps a hand around your thigh, pulling it open that much wider. “Do you usually start with everything off?” 
“Yeah,” you say. “Isn’t that sort of the point?”
“Sometimes,” he hums. “Sometimes, though, it helps to work up to it. You need to get warmed up, you know?” 
You murmur an affirmation, though you don’t actually know. There’s never been much warming up when you or anyone else has tried to do this before. But it doesn’t matter, because then Remus starts rubbing the outsides of your thighs with both hands, and any sound dies in your throat. 
“You have to start slow,” he says in a low voice. Scarred, strong hands moving over your skin. “Everyone responds to different things, and it’s about feeling out what works for you.” 
You can’t imagine how this wouldn’t work for anyone. Remus touch starts moving inward, until his long fingers are dragging over your inner thighs, fuelling a familiar warmth at their apex. 
“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 
You wet your lips. “I think so.” 
“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, you could try touching yourself other places, see what works.” 
Tentatively, you slip one of your hands up your shirt. Your breasts feel more sensitive than usual, and when you squeeze one, combined with Remus’ hands on your thighs, it makes your breath catch. 
“There you go, sweetheart. You’ve got it.” 
Your body starts to slacken against him, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only uses his grip on your thighs to drag you closer, propping you up. You can’t tell which one of you is warmer. 
Without warning, his hand brushes over your mound. You gasp. 
“Is this okay?” Remus asks, his voice closer to your ear than it had been. He gives you another stroke over your panties. 
“Yes,” you breathe out. 
“Alright. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” 
One hand continues moving over your thigh while the other drags the fabric of your panties aside, flattening over your cunt. 
“Oh, poor girl,” he coos. “Is all this for me?” 
Your silence must scream mortification, because he chuckles and bumps the side of your head with his affectionately. 
“Sorry, I’m only messing with you. Is it always like this?” 
You lie. “Yeah.” 
Remus hums, dragging two fingers through your folds. You squirm in his lap. Your hand has completely forgotten your breast. 
“I usually start here,” he says, one finger circling your clit. It slips and slides in the mess you’ve already made. “You do the same?” 
You nod fervently. He adds another finger, moving over it gently, and has to tighten his grip on your leg to keep it open. Your breaths start coming faster as he repeats the motion. You can feel him getting hard behind you. 
Just as your pleasure starts to take you under, Remus’ fingers fall away. 
“Your turn,” he says. His voice sounds slightly hoarse. 
When you hesitate, confused and a bit bereaved, he chuckles, taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers to your clit. 
“Show me how you’re gonna do it, sweetheart.” 
Tentatively, you try to copy his movements. Your own fingers feel clumsy and inadequate compared to his, but after all the work Remus has put in they’re still enough. You chase that tightening sensation, hips twitching into your own touch. 
Remus doesn’t leave you on your own for long. His hand finds your cunt again, seeking, it seems, every possible way to drive you to madness. He collects the slick pooling by your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds, and when his fingers breach your hole you make a soft, surprised sound that sends his lips down onto your shoulder. 
Instantly, you’re aware of how much better this feels. Remus’ mouth is warm and soft, a contrast against the roughness of his stubble. He sucks at you gently, warming you up like he had your cunt, before letting his teeth scrape lightly over your skin. Your date from last night had been so eager to get your neck into his mouth, suctioning onto you like a parasite and rolling your skin between his teeth in a way that hurt more than it helped. Remus is all temperance. He bites you, and then licks it over to make sure you’re soothed. 
The thought occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t be comparing Remus to someone you actually dated. 
He curls his fingers inside you, and every thought you’ve ever had falls away. All you are is a collection of sensations and wants. 
“You’ve got it, darling, keep going. You’re doing so well.” 
Your fingers and Remus’ working like one mind, until your thighs are shivering and he has to redouble his efforts to keep you still. Your head lolling onto his shoulder, the way his lips transfer to your neck as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His scruff scratching under your jaw, moving as he says your name. 
The myriad of other things he says, sweetheart, baby, good girl, you’re doing so good, growing raspier as the pressure in your core worsens until you worry you’ll shatter if he doesn’t keep ahold of you. 
“Let go,” he instructs, kissing the skin beneath your ear lovingly. “You’re alright, just let go.” 
You choose to trust him, and your body—your being—snaps.
You make sounds you can’t hear, your own fingers stuttering and stopping while Remus works you through the new sensation, murmuring assurances into your skin. Runs his free hand over your trembling thigh. 
Eventually, your mind quiets enough to hear that his breathing is nearly as labored as your own. He slips his fingers out of you. You try to turn around to face him, but your body betrays you, slumping against his front. 
Remus chuckles, smoothing a hand up your side. “Good job, sweetheart. You did beautifully.” He smears a kiss over your cheek. “How was that?” 
You sigh blissfully. Your brain feels pulverized. “Really good.” 
Another soft laugh. “Yeah? Glad to hear it.” 
“Thank you.” You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to look up at him. 
“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice warm with amusement. “Honestly, I should probably be thanking you. I feel quite lucky.” 
You hum bemusedly. Remus’ sex-slicked fingers run lazily over the inside of your thigh. Perhaps your mind is still addled from your orgasm, but this feels incredibly normal to you now. 
“Really? Why?” 
“I just,” he exhales, leaning his head against yours lightly. “I just can’t believe I was the first person to hear you make those sounds.” 
“Oh.” You feel the tickle of embarrassment coming back to you. It draws your shoulders in. “Sorry. Was I very loud?” 
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Remus turns his head, kissing your temple firmly. “You were perfect.” 
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thisblogisaboutabook · 6 months
Text
Baby, Mine
Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot
Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.
Bonus Chapter/Part 2
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Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination
“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”
“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.
Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.
“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.
“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”
There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.
“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”
And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.
So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.
Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.
As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.
She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.
Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”
“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”
Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”
“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”
She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“
“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”
Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,
“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”
He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”
She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”
And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”
At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.
A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”
“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”
She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.
The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.
Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.
Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.
Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.
Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.
But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.
As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.
Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.
He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.
“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.
A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.
As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”
He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”
Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”
“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”
“He doesn’t deserve her.”
Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”
“At the Town House.”
Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”
Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.
“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”
“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”
Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,
“Secrets”
“Secrets”
He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.
“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”
Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.
“Easy brother.”
Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.
“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.
“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”
Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”
Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.
Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”
“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”
“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.
Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”
She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.
“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”
Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.
“She kicked for the first time the other day.”
Rhys raised a brow.
Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”
Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.
“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“
Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.
“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”
Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”
“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”
As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”
Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”
“Okay, quieter than usual.”
Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”
“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”
She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.
Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.
She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”
Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”
She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”
“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.
“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”
Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”
She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”
A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”
Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.
Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”
And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.
It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.
The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.
“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.
“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”
Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”
Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”
He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”
————————-
“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.
“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”
“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”
“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”
“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”
“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”
“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”
“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.
Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”
“Are you ready for this?” He asked.
“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.
Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”
She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”
“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.
She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”
“I know better than to go against your intuition.”
With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”
As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”
She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”
As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.
The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.
Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”
Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.
She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.
“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.
Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.
“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”
An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.
“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”
Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.
“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”
The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.
Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”
“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”
Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”
“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.
“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”
Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”
Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”
Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.
“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.
Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”
She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.
“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”
She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.
The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”
Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.
Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”
Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.
————————-
Epilogue
Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.
He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.
Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”
Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”
Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”
The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”
Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”
Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”
Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.
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zvdvdlvr · 8 months
Text
— I Love You
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— 🧠 synopsis. A tough case leaves you in the more than willing arms of SSA Aaron Hotchner.
— 🧠 word count. 2,409
— 🧠 warnings. Foul language. Idiots to lovers. Friends to lovers. Weird plot. Possible jealous!Hotch.
Maybe it was the children that hadn’t been saved in time. Maybe it was the pitying glances from not only the team, but the police officers. Maybe, even, it was the way Aaron’s eyes flitted away any time y/n looked up. 
No, y/n was mad. Angry, spiteful, defiant- any other synonyms for angry. The fact that the unsub had been completely fooled by y/n’s act until he had promptly decided he didn’t believe y/n’s promise to help in any way she could to lower his prison sentence. That’s the thing with schizophrenics: they’re extremely paranoid.
Y/n was so infuriated, she refused to talk- a habit that she had learned from childhood. If she didn’t say anything, she couldn’t get in trouble. It was a bad habit that y/n had eventually stopped by the time she went to college because the anger she kept inside of her without any kind of release would always find a way to rot her from the inside out. 
So now, even on the flight home, y/n still hasn’t said more than two sentences in a row.
— 🧠
Aaron Hotchner was a man with excellent observation skills and the ability to adapt. He knew y/n’s habit of reserving herself to silence due to the amount of time they have worked together, but Aaron felt like something was different this time.
Instead of starting the pile of paperwork he already had, Aaron instead found himself watching y/n. She was always extremely sensitive to cases that dealt with kids, but this seem to hit home, adding to the fact that their unsub had blown his brains out within a five foot radius of y/n and the seven-year-old girl that had been the last victim. 
When the team had gotten to the scene, they watched the little girl dissolve into y/n’s arms, brain matter and blood on the latter’s face. The look in y/n’s eyes when Derek had immediately rushed to the two of them was one of complete despair. Aaron watched, paralyzed, as you picked up the little girl and let her scream and wail near your ringing ears. You turned, pressing her head down so she wouldn’t look at the dead body and look Aaron dead in the eyes and took the child to the ambulance.
Something in your eyes had provoked worry in Aaron. Did you feel guilty? Were you not allowing yourself to break down when you needed to be strong for the little soul in your arms? Was there something you were trying to tell him?
“Hey,” Hotch murmured. He sat down as carefully as he could (which wasn’t too impressive seeing as it was 1 in the morning on a plane).
When you didn’t say anything, Hotch sighed. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I need you to know you did what you had to do. What he did… that wasn’t on you, y/n.”
Then you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and Aaron felt his heart sink. “Oh, honey…” he whispered. 
And then you were in his arms, crying, while trying not to wake up the others. “Hotch, I-“ you started, sniffling. 
“I’m here, sweetheart,” Aaron all but cooed, lightly carding his fingers through your hair. He knew you blamed yourself because that’s how you are. You always strive to do the best you possibly could, oftentimes resorting to neglecting yourself whenever you did something that you knew you could have done better or simply because you forgot. 
“It’s all my fault, Aaron, I- I could have saved him but- I… I messed up and I- I don’t even know what I did! And that little girl…” you trailed off, another wave of tears threatening to overtake your ability to speak. 
Aaron’s throat bobbed as he struggled to find the words to comfort the woman in his arms. Long ago had he resigned to simply being y/n’s boss/borderline friend because he accepted the fact that- as much as he hated to admit it- he was older, not your type, or just simply unattractive. But he would do theoretically anything you asked him to do even if it caused him heartbreak in the future.
“You saved that little girl, angel. *You* did. If you save one of them, you save all of them. Focus on the good, honey, not the bad. If you can do that then you can do anything, and believe me,” Aaron smiled, “I have no doubt in my mind you can do anything.” 
Aaron held you and prayed to God that you didn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. He brushed your tears away and let you sleep on his shoulder, happy that he had hopefully gotten you out of your funk.
— 🧠
Later, Aaron woke up to Derek tapping his shoulder. “Do you want me to take our golden girl home?” Derek asked, with a softness to his voice that he had whenever he talked to you. 
Blinking away the tiredness from his eyes, Aaron shook his head. “No. No, I got her. Tjank you, Derek, but you need to go home and get some rest.” 
Derek nodded. “Get home safe,” he said to Hotch, a small smile in his face when he heard you sigh a little in you sleep and bury your head even further into Aaron’s neck.
Derek patted Aaron’s shoulder before taking his leave.
“Wake up, y/n,” Aaron murmured, heart swelling in his chest when he heard you mumble incoherent words.
Slinging his own go-bag and yours over his shoulders, Hotch helped you stand up.
“Hotch, lemme take my-“ you started, being cut off with a yawn.
“I got it, y/n,” Aaron chuckled. He let you slip your arm in his and all but lean on him as he made his way to his car. 
When he got you settled into the passage seat, Aaron tossed the bags in the back and started the drive to your house. 
“Aaron?” You asked, voice small.
He looked over at you. Despite the lack of light, Aaron watched you pick at your fingers. “Yeah?”
It took you a minute before saying something. You wanted to ask him why he kept calling you ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’. It’s not that you didn’t like it (you loved it), you just don’t think he could keep calling you that if he didn’t have any kind of attraction to you. You, though, you’ve been enamored with Aaron Hotchner since the day he shook your hand and offered you a job. 
Similarly, you wanted to ask him what he did when he got lost in his own mind; when he himself couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts. 
So you settled on a breathless “Thank you”. 
Silence reigned once more as Aaron tried to pick out the meaning of your thanks. Where you thanking him for driving you home? For letting you fall asleep on him? For… being one of the best friends you’d ever had in your life without saying it?
When Aaron carried your bag to the door as you unlocked the it, he wondered if there was another universe where he was taking you home every night, going to bed with you, waking up to Jack begging for pancakes with you, dropping Jack off at school with you, and then going to work with you. Maybe, Aaron thought, somewhere in another universe I’m watching the woman I love fall asleep with my child in her arms. 
“Do you… need anything else?” Aaron asked, holding out y/n’s go-bag for her to take. 
Aaron kicked himself. He felt like a school boy whenever you’re around, and the fact that he’s standing in front of you and your home isn’t really helping his nerves.
“Would you maybe want to, uh… stay? For tonight?” Y/n blurted. Aaron’s eyes must have widened because he saw y/n become flustered. “I- you know, just for tonight. I need a ride to work tomorrow anyway… You- You might as well just stay.”
“If you want me to-“
“Please?” 
Aaron stepped into y/n’s house and immediately toed off his shoes. “Where do you want me to put this?” 
“I’ll take it.” She accepted the bag and walked to her room.
Aaron walked around the kitchen. Your house was clean and colorful. You had quite a few photos of the sunset framed by your television, but there were a lot more candid shots of the BAU then of your family. Hm.
“Come here, A,” you called from your room (?).
Dutifully, Aaron followed the sound of your voice, pushing your door open slowly and entering your room. Where you sleep. Where you get dressed and undressed. Where you live.
You walked over to Aaron and handed him a little pile of clothes. “These should fit. I guessed your size. If those don’t fit I have more men’s clothes.” 
“Why do you have men’s clothing?” Aaron asked, a smile toying at his lips. 
“Brothers, boyfriends… they’re comfy,” y/n shrugged. “Does it matter, Aaron?” 
Aaron watched you tilt your head, smirk widening. 
“Just curious.” He defends himself poorly, red tinging his cheeks as he scratches his head.
“Bathroom’s right in there,” you say, pointing to the door attached to your room. 
Aarom walks to your bathroom and shuts the door. He immediately releases a breath of air he hadn’t realize he had been holding. After turning on the lights, he changes into the clothes you gave him. Both owns smelled exactly like you, something that made Aaron smile.
He shut off the light and closed the door. “Thank you, y/n. I appreciate it.”
You looked up from your dresser. “You’d do the same for me. There’s nothing to thank me, Aaron.”
“What are you doing?” Aaron asked, approaching your figure. 
“I don’t think you would want to see me walk around in just a bra and boxers, A,” y/n laughs. 
The bluntness of your answers smacks Aaron in the face with a metal bar. “Boxers?” He finds himself asking.
You just laugh. “They’re comfortable.” 
“You don’t have to change your sleeping routine for me,” Aaron says quietly, eyes looking directly into your own.
“Are you sure?” 
“We’re just sleeping,” Aaron shrugs. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”
Your eyes flicker between your boss’s and suddenly your wondering how you got here. The line between boss/employee and more-than-friends/not-quite-dating was blurred and you didn’t even remember putting your thumb on how you felt about your boss.
“Okay,” you say slowly. You close the drawer, holding a sports bra and boxers. “I’m gonna go change and go to sleep… Do you want me to set up the couch or just sleep in the bed with me?” 
“What do you want, y/n?”
You direct your gaze to the floor. “I don’t care, honestly.” You weren’t just gonna tell your crush you feel safer when his touch is what lulls you to sleep, that you’ve been in love with him since practically the beginning of time, that you wanted more than just a night (of PG activities!) with him.
“I hear your brain going 200 miles an hour over there, sweetheart. What’re you thinking?” Aaron teases.
“Will you hold me, Aaron?” You ask, urging yourself to look into his eyes. Moment of truth, you think, he’s either gonna laugh in my face or I’m gonna fall even deeper in love with my boss as we cuddle.
Aaron feels winded at your tiny voice. Yes, he wants to scream, yes! “Go get changed, honey. I’ll be right here.” 
Then that smile is back and all Aaron wants to do his pick you up in his arms and kiss you, maybe spin you around the room. His heart swells in his chest again (it’s been doing that a lot lately, he notes) as you pat his arm in thanks as you pass him to head to your bathroom.
Aaron climbs into your bed, setting his essentials (badge, keys, gun, etc.,) on the nightstand. 
You flip off the light switch and pad over to the bed and slip under the covers. 
For what felt like a millennium, Aaron held his breath and waited. 
“Aaron, I have to tell you something. It’s been on my mind and… just hear me out. Please. You don’t have to say anything back and I understand if-“ you babble.
“Take a breath, y/n,” Aaron soothes. “What’s up?”
“I’m in love with you, Aaron Benjamin Hotchner. Like, if I had to choose between you over breathing I would literally spend my last breath telling you how much I love you. You are always on my mind, Aaron, and it hurts because I can’t do anything about it. I know I’m not your type, I know I’m just your co-worker, I know you probably aren’t looking to date anyone, but I just… I want you to know,” you ramble, words tumbling out of your mouth like Reid when he get’s started on some random fact. 
Aaron blinks, pupils widening. “Do you seriously think you’re ‘just a co-worker’ to me?” 
You swallow. “Yeah?”
“Do you think I would let just anyone call me Aaron? How often to you see me taking out Morgan for coffee when he gets cranky? Do I almost always end up sitting by Emily on the flight home after a case? Do I call Spencer ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’?” Aaron asks quietly, hand resting on your cheek while he tucks a loc of hair under your ear so he can see your eyes better. “Jack loves you. I love you.” Aaron laughs at how comically large your eyes get.
“Jack loves me?” You ask.
Aaron laughs. “He loves you ‘to the moon and back’.” 
“He loves that book, Aaron, don’t laugh at your baby boy,” you scold playfully.
“I outdo him though, because I love you to Saturn and back.”
You turn to the nightstand and shut the light off before turning back to face Aaron. “Will you hold me, Aaron? Please?” 
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Aaron says, opening his arms to welcome you into him. 
And then that’s when you know his words are true. His heart rate  is definitely elevated, but so is yours. “Will you tell me you love me, again?”
Aaron, now lying on his back with you clinging onto him like a weighted blanket, complied. Carding his fingers through her hair, Aaron lulled her mind off to a quiet, safe place. “I love you, angel,” Aaron whispered, pressing a soft kiss to y/n’s forhead.
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cinnasnackz · 2 years
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not to sound mentally ill but
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cvnt4him · 2 months
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Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn
ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(
Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕
I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽
mha boys x reader.
Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.
Not in order.
Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.
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Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.
When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.
Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.
You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.
You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.
"so you and midoriya?"
Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?
"uh.. yeah! We're dating."
You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.
"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"
She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?
"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"
"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."
Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.
"are you fucking kidding me?!"
You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.
"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."
"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."
"what about girl code, dude"
All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.
"fuck all of you."
You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.
The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.
You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.
When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.
He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.
"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."
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Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.
You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.
Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.
Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.
"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."
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Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.
The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.
He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.
But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.
He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.
You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.
And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.
"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."
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Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.
It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.
He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."
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Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.
Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.
He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.
Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.
"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."
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Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.
He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.
He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.
You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.
He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.
You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.
"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."
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AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..
Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????
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suempu · 5 months
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Falls to floor your writing is so lovely Do you perhaps have any kabru x reader sfw/nsfw hcs…
thank you so much for the kind words. “lovely” 🥹 ahh you got me blushing anon lmfao
gn reader + on the receiving end !!!
<3
kabru would be the casual type of lover. he’s nothing but calm and suave with you, which is attractive.
he’s quite attentive of people and you’re no exception. although he really goes out of his way to be accommodating when it comes to you if you’re his lover.
mindful of your expressions and body language. once he sees a sign of you being uncomfortable, kabru will pull you away from the group and talk to you softly.
i feel like he’d be good at taking care of his partner, though he’s not the best, he tries.
kabru’s good at talking you down, grounding you into reality whenever you’re on the verge of a breakdown. let’s say you feel very unstable, he’ll whisper in the most softest tone you’ll ever hear while he holds your hand. he asks permission to touch you beforehand of course.
“here, you can feel my fingers, right?”
“mm.”
“my palm, feel it. you’re here with me,”
“i’m here…”
“good job. can i ask what happened?”
he’s good at radiating a calm atmosphere when you need it and he’s always ready to help you.
praises and compliments come out of his mouth like a piece of cake, he’s not shy when it comes to showering you with love. the whole party is grossed out by him whenever you’re around. it’s like when the parents are being all lovey-dovey and the children just groan out an ‘eww’ (its mainly mickbell complaining tho lmao)
i believe he’s had one or two intimate relationships before you, but none of them has ever lasted long enough as yours. so he’s had some experience before you.
he’s certainly a tease. have you seen that face? that face screams unfairness and mischief (in bed)
kabru loves your whining whenever he purposely denies you release. one moment his fingers will go fast and wild on your most sensitive spots, and the next he goes painstakingly slow.
“aww, but if i let you cum this early, then what about me?”
he’s a cheeky bastard. the real reason why he draws out your orgasms is because he believes that edging you will result to a much pleasurable and hard orgasm for later (he’s right.)
you will get overstimulated with this man, no question about it. he strives to make you cum at least 5-6 times in one session, which is overkill but he really loves the way your eyes glaze over.
kabru loves your tears and whining, though it kind of makes him guilty so he makes sure to absolutely spoil you after.
his hips are bad for your body. with the way he thrusts into you so precisely. its like he already knows which spot to hit, he rolls into you as he teases and whispers in your ear. he’s actually fucking crazy.
“right here? oh yeah, here?”
he moans in time with his thrusts. he loves watching your face, how your half lidded eyes look so lost yet so present. missionary is definitely his favorite position. loves being all up on your face, he kisses your cheeks, forehead, lips, and jaw while he’s inside you.
nights with him are long and wild, but he can go slow and be more gentler if you asked him to. he lives for your reactions, he thinks its really sweet how you trust him so much with your body.
kabru makes up for all his teasing with aftercare. he pants as he pulls you close, hands on your back and caressing you gently.
“you okay? did i break you?”
“shut up.” you breath out hoarsely.
he chuckles, “i love you too.”
he gives you a massage after that, quietly kissing your hips and stomach as his fingers rub at your skin. whispers small apologies while his hands work on your body. he always checks in on you whenever he hears a whine or groan when he touches a sore spot.
while he is content with just sleeping and cuddling in your own sweat, he’ll take you to the bathroom if you want to be cleaned.
solid lover, tries his best, just don’t ever have sex in his own bedroom (its messy)
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francixoxoxo · 3 months
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.𖥔˚ Lay Back, Relax ୨ৎ
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𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐗 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 �� 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞!!
• 𝐓𝐖: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭/𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) •
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Coriolanus strived to be the best husband. He was expecting his marriage to be arranged, and not exactly a loving one at that. He resigned himself to that. There were more important things at hand.
Well, that’s what he thought until you practically fell in his lap. Intelligent, kind, thoughtful. Undeniably and classically beautiful. His true match. It wasn’t just that you were perfect for public image, that mattered less to him that he would have thought. But you were perfect for him, you two fit and complimented each other like dolls in a set.
Coriolanus was sitting at his desk, flipping through a few important political documents and letters. You didn’t mind that he was busy, you were content to lay across the chaise against the wall of his office. You were flipping through a fashion magazine a bit absentmindedly. Your heels were strewn across the floor, your feet up beside you on the red velvet chaise, fashionable dress-shirt unbuttoned and rolled over your forearms to try and get comfortable after a long day.
Your husband didn’t seem to have that privilege. He rubbed his deeply furrowed temple, nostrils flaring as he stuck his silver letter-opener into a new envelope to tear it open. He was in the beginnings of his presidential campaign, rapidly moving up the ranks and leaving only one seat in Panem’s government left to achieve. You knew how passionate he was about his work, and you had to admit you were thrilled by the idea of being the First Lady. But it was taking a toll on your poor Coryo.
You did what you could as his wife to soothe him. Even now, you could see the empty cup of chamomile you’d given him earlier— hidden behind the mountain of unread papers. You knew that this work would pay off in the long run.
Though it didn’t pull at your heart any less when Coriolanus slipped into bed sometimes hours after you retired, pulling you close only after he was sure you were already awake, murmuring weary apologizes and promises.
“I’m sorry, darling,” Coryo would groan into the crook of your neck, holding you loosely and sighing. He’d press a faint kiss to your collarbone, “I got caught up…”
You’d snake your hand around to thread your fingers through his mussed blonde curls, loose just how you liked them. You’d give his scalp a gently scratch, humming groggily, “You deserve some rest.”
He’d grumble affirmatively in reply, but every night became a late one regardless.
Your eyes flicker up to him now, taking a quick break from reading a document to scribble down notes for his reply, which he’d probably write tonight. Coryo could never put things off for the next day, that was his downfall. With a heavy heart, you resigned to the thought that he’d stay up until the latest hours of the night, only coming to lay beside you when his eyes were too bleary to read the print.
The clock was already at eleven, and you couldn’t stand by and Coriolanus stay in this office until it ticked to midnight. Perhaps he felt your concerned eyes peering at him over the magazine, because he lifted his own azure gaze. He let out a sigh through his nose, offering you a weary smile. You returned it silently, watching him look back to his work with a disapproving purse of his lips. You had no choice! You pushed yourself off the chaise, padding barefoot to his desk and standing behind his rolling chair. Coryo lifted his head to look at you, brows furrowed above sleepy eyes. “Darling?”
You draped yourself over the back of the red leather chair, your cheek to his temple and your arms wrapping around his chest. Coryo smiled softly, a large hand coming to rest over your forearm. “It’s late, Coryo.” You cooed, lips ghosting the shell of his ear.
He nodded reluctantly, that smile falling into a dark expression. He sighed through his nose. “I know.”
“Come to bed.” You murmured, nosing his temple and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. You were grateful you hadn’t washed off your day’s makeup off yet, the red lipstick stain on his milky skin satisfying. Filling you with a kind of possessive pride. Not to mention that it was hot, having your shade of lip color on his face as proof that he’d let you stain it.
Coryo protested with a grunt, shaking his head a bit. “No, no… Darling, I have my work cut out for me.” But your lips peppering kisses across his face was breaking his resolve as you stepped beside him, grabbing the armrest of his chair and turning him to face you.
“It’ll still be on your desk tomorrow,” you reminded your husband as you slipped into his lap, legs straddling his hips. Your red acrylic nails (which he paid to have done, of course) threading through the back of his platinum blonde curls as you pressed lipstick stains over his cheeks and forehead, nose and chin. He was wonderfully oblivious.
“Just another hour, and I’ll be done.” Coriolanus protested, though his hands were resting over your hips. He tried to give passing kisses to you, but the task was a bit difficult with the way you kept shifting focus. He craned his neck to allow you access to his neck when you nosed his jawline.
You groaned in frustration, gently scratching his scalp with the hand behind his head. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Exhausted.” He admitted after a moments internal debate. His eyelids had long fluttered shut.
“Poor thing, you’ll stress yourself silver.” You cooed, finally pulling away from him. You examined a few strands of blonde hair for grays.
Coryo only snorted and opened his bright, icy eyes. He stared up at you fondly, a reverent smile on playing at his lips. “I doubt I could. Not a spot on me yet.”
You mirrored his smirk, but shook your head. “Point is, you’re overworked.” Coryo didn’t disagree nor agree, he just gently smoothed a palm over your thigh as you went on. “I think I have just the thing to help you unwind.”
Coriolanus’ eyebrows furrowed, he shook his head a bit. “I don’t think two cups of tea in an hour is very healthy, my darling.” You couldn’t help the giggle bubbling from your lips.
You pushed yourself off his lap, only causing his confused expression to deepen. His hands rested on your hips still. You press a sweet little kiss to his plush lips, though it was only chaste for a few moments before it deepened and his tongue slid past yours. All too soon, you broke the kiss. But only to replace it with something better.
“Darling..“ Coryo protested, his hand moving to your shoulder. “I know you’re tired, you don’t—“
“Let me.” You cut him off, turning your cheek to press a kiss to his wedding band. He was a thoughtful man. He knew that if you got him started, there wasn’t any stopping. But who was he to assume you didn’t want him?
Coriolanus’ eyes were hungry, fixed on you as you sunk to your knees between his lazily spread legs. Slowly, but not hesitantly, you reached for his zipper. “You don’t have to. Say the word, my love, and you can go on to bed.” He cooed, his tone agonizingly gentle, but you heard the strain. Looking up at his handsome features, eyes dark with lust, you knew he was desperate for this.
“I want to.” You replied, hooking your fingers under his waistband and pulling the quality fabric down, along with his suit pants, to his knees. His mouth-watering length sprang out as you did, catching your attention. He was easily seven or eight inches. You carefully but not hesitantly reached for him, wrapping a soft hand around the base of his cock.
Coriolanus inhaled sharply at that, his hips shifting ever so slightly. You couldn’t fight the smirk slipping over your face as you stroked your fist up and he exhaled harshly through his nose. Glancing up at your husband’s expression, his jaw was clenched and his blue eyes already so hazy. It had been too long (maybe a week, far too long for Coriolanus’ standards).
“How often have you thought of this?” You grinned, swiping your thumb over his flushed tip to spread the precum beading there. Coryo is white-knuckling the armrests of his chair, his fingernails divoting the red, upholstered leather. You can tell that he’s stifling any sound.
“You have no idea.” Coryo grunts, tipping his head back against his chair and staring down at you, lips parting. You feel satisfaction knowing these attempts at aloofness will be moot in a few moments.
You leaned forward to press a little kiss to his leaking head, batting those doe eyes up at him and making the heat rise up his neck, goosebumps erupting over his exposed forearms. A low groan escaped his lips, his muscles tense. “Lay back and relax.” You reminded.
Coryo’s hand slipped into your hair as you licked a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, he let out a soft sigh. His hips shifted a bit under your touch. You watched his face carefully, noting every little detail. His long lashes against his cheeks, the slight furrow of his brows, the set of his mouth. Everything you knew and loved.
When you closed your lips around him, lowering your head until your gag reflex protested, you were sure to catch Coriolanus’ moan as it left his lips. The weight of him on your tongue was familiar, warm. He was practically throbbing already— one week and he’s already so desperate for you. His eyes fluttered open, the icy blue of them focused on you. his nails gently scratched your scalp as an encouragement. “You’re so damn pretty.” He mumbled softly, relishing in the sight of you with his cock in your mouth. You hummed, gratified.
Coryo looked like he wanted to say more, but the way you began sucking shut him up. The warm wetness of your mouth and tongue on him was electrifying, it wasn’t long before he was clutching the armrest again. His hips bucked up to your mouth involuntarily and he was tempted to apologize, but the whimper that brought from your lips only made him harder. You were so beautiful from where he was sitting, doe-eyed and all for him.
You were taking it languid, using your hand to reach the inches your mouth couldn’t. It was too slow for his liking, it wasn’t very long until his hand tightened in your hair and he began thrusting his cock upward with purpose. “Fuck, your mouth.. Feel fuckin’ amazing.” Coryo grunted, his own mouth falling open in a gasp.
He wasn’t too rough with you, but enough to show you exactly who was in charge. Enough for you to enjoy it. Your throat burned, tears pricking your eyes and your whines filling his office, mixed with the obscene, wet sound of your saliva mixed with his precome. After hardly a minute of shoving his dick down your throat and grunting praise that didn’t match his actions in the least, Coryo lets out a guttural moan. “Shit, such a good fucking girl. Let me come in your mouth, baby, please— fuck,” You managed to hum affirmatively around his cock, your hand on his thigh squeezing.
With a low and masculine groan, his seed spurted down your throat, hips slowing their jerking into your mouth. His fingers tightened in your hair, though not too painfully. When he finally came down from the high, his head tipping back against the back of his chair and his hand smoothing down your hair he had mussed, your lips left him with a wet pop!
“You’re too good to me.” Coriolanus breathed, his eyes half-lidded and grin lazy when you rose to your feet. You leaned over him with a knee on the chair beside his thigh, kissing his cheek.
“You were supposed to relax and let me do the work.” You giggled, leaving him no choice but to turn his face and capture your lips. He could taste himself on your tongue, though he didn’t mind. He nose bumped yours as he pulled away.
“Mmm, you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, my love.” Coryo cooed, eyes sleepy and adoring. Certainly de-stressed. Whether he was ready for bed was another matter. His large hand moved to your hip, kneading the softness there.
“Let me return the favor.”
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howcouldmuffin · 28 days
Text
First Choice IV
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[ Chapter 4 : My Fate, My Choice ]
Born a princess, freedom eluded you, and choices were never yours to make. Yet now, your destiny rests in your own hands.
WARNING : NSFW, Targaryen incest, Non-canon, SMUT, Sex Content
AN : I feel that my descriptive skills aren’t at their best right now, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to convey. Enjoy the read. Love.
CONTENTS : Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
please be kind to me English is not my first language.
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You find that the daily life at Dragonstone bears a curious resemblance to your experiences in King’s Landing. You rise with the dawn, don your attire, and attend to the myriad duties within the castle walls. Though not as frenzied as the capital, the routine here is one you manage with ease, and its simplicity brings a certain satisfaction to your days.
On some occasions, Jace will take you upon Vermax, and together you traverse the boundless sky. The thrill of observing the world below from such heights, with the crisp air caressing your skin, offers a sense of freedom that the gilded cage crafted by your mother never could.
The sweeping expanse of water below is breathtakingly beautiful. As you gaze down from Jacearys’s back, held closely by Jace, you ponder whether the life of privilege behind the walls of the Red Keep, with its attendant duties of marriage and children, is truly what you desire.
“Is there anything special you would like to eat today?” Jacaerys’s voice brings you back to reality. “I shall instruct the servants to prepare it.”
“No, thank you.” you reply. “Let them busy themselves on another day.”
“Our wedding shall be the grandest affair in all the Seven Kingdoms, and every soul will be in attendance.” Jace declares as he guides you back to the castle. The mighty dragon, capable of bearing two, carries you swiftly through the air.
Soon, you find yourself seated before your vanity, the maid combing your hair. Her head bowed, she reminds you of a time when you, too, had been a young girl at a celebration with your family—something your mother once remarked upon, noting the beauty you possessed but struggled to wield.
“Lift your head, please.” you instruct the maid.
“Yes, Your Highness.” she replies, hesitating briefly before complying. Her youthful face is charming, and you offer her a reassuring smile, striving to ease her discomfort.
“I believe I have encountered you before.” you say. “The little girl in the red skirt.” You recall selecting her as a maid and her brother as a soldier for the castle. They had lost their mother to either disease or cruelty; you are uncertain.
“Do you remember, Your Highness?” Her face shows astonishment and disbelief, with tears beginning to form.
“Do not cry, I have no intention of reprimanding you.” you say, turning to face her. “The girl who clung to my skirt, her face stained with tears because her brother was departing.”
The tears flow freely now, and the maid’s hands tremble as she drops the comb. She remains as tearful as she was years ago. Rising from your seat, you gently wipe her tears away with a cloth.
“Now, tell me, how did you come to be here, Zia”
Regaining her composure, she recounts that after you had her brother join the castle guard, his skill and cleverness won him favor among the nobles, which improved their fortunes. When it became known that the princess’s personal maid was still needed, they hastened to request the position from Vidah, who granted their plea.
“Vidah should have informed me.” you muse. “Well, I shall rely on you. I can be quite particular.” You retrieve the comb she dropped and hand it back to her, resuming your seat at the vanity to continue her grooming.
“I am greatly honored to serve you, Your Highness.” she says, her hands working carefully through your hair. “Without your intervention, my brother and I might have been doomed to a life of servitude. My brother pledged that, given the chance, he would dedicate himself to the Queen. Whatever you require, we will do anything for you, Your Highness.”
You smile at the steadfast loyalty she and her brother offer. Ruling through fear may eventually lead to a more formidable ruler; maintaining loyalty is far more advantageous. You pause, reflecting on this thought, as the maid awaits your response.
“Is something troubling you, Your Highness?”
“You said that if I needed anything, you would fulfill it, did you not?” You turn to her. “Anything at all?”
“Even our lives, if it comes to that.” she replies earnestly.
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The sound of the bedroom door closing reverberated through the stillness of the chamber as you sat engrossed in a book at the antique wooden desk. Your attention was absorbed by the delicate prose on the pages, and you barely noticed the figure entering the room. The atmosphere was thick with a sense of nostalgia and intimacy.
A soft, lingering kiss brushed against the nape of your neck, and a warm embrace enveloped you from behind. You felt the familiar presence of Jacearys, whose arms had become your sanctuary.
“What treasure are you lost in this evening, my love?” His voice was a gentle murmur as he settled into the chair beside you, his proximity radiating a comforting warmth.
“Just a novel of mundane adventures.” you replied, closing the book with a slight sigh and lifting your gaze to meet his. “Do you require anything of me?”
“I merely wished to see my betrothed.” he said with a smile that seemed to light up the dimly lit room. “May I?”
“Always.” you responded, placing the book aside and rising to draw the heavy velvet curtains, which filtered the moonlight into a soft, diffused glow. The room, bathed in a silvery luminescence, was now perfect for intimate conversation.
As you turned back, Jacearys stood so close that his presence seemed to envelop you entirely. His eyes, deep and mesmerizing, held an allure that made your heart quicken. His nose, sharp and regal, and his lips, full and inviting, formed a visage that seemed straight out of a bygone era.
At last, your lips met in a kiss that was both tender and consuming. Jacearys’s touch was gentle, his kiss an exploration that was neither hurried nor hesitant. The sweetness of his lips was intoxicating, a flavor so enchanting it felt as if you could easily become lost in it. The kiss deepened as you both savored the precious moments, exchanging affection with a fervor that seemed to transcend time.
“We should not indulge further.” you whispered, your breath mingling with his. “It would be scandalous if the maid were to discover us in such a state.”
“We are betrothed, and thus bound by no such constraints.” he replied, his voice carrying an undertone of playful defiance. “Yet, I shall wait with patient anticipation for the day when you are ready, ready to share your life with me.”
His words filled you with a profound joy, a flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks. With a soft smile, you leaned forward to place a gentle kiss upon his cheek. He paused, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before returning your smile with one of his own, both tender and teasing. The moment was so perfect that you found yourself reluctant to imagine anything beyond it.
“You should retire for the night, my princess.” he suggested with a loving tone.
“And you should take your rest as well, my prince.” you replied, a hint of playfulness in your voice.
“May I request the honor of sharing your bed?” Jacearys asked, his gaze earnest. “I long to hold you until the first light of dawn.” You considered his request for a moment, your thoughts drifting between anticipation and propriety.
“Yes.” you finally agreed, your voice soft and inviting. “But only for the purpose of cuddling.”
“By your command, my princess.” he responded with a grin that spoke of contentment. He lifted you effortlessly, his touch gentle as he placed you upon the grand, canopied bed. The quilt, rich and heavy with its intricate patterns, was drawn over you both as he settled in beside you.
Under the cover of the thick, warm blanket, you felt his embrace close around you. The world outside seemed to fade away as you nestled against him, the weight of his arms a reassuring presence. The room was filled with a serene tranquility as you both surrendered to the comfort of each other’s closeness, drifting into a restful slumber as if the night itself was a protective shroud, keeping you safe from all that lay beyond.
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You find yourself in the vast and echoing kitchen of Dragonstone, a grand but unfamiliar space adorned with intricate tapestries and polished copperware. Despite the opulent surroundings, there is an intangible quality about the room, a subtle hint of its true owner that resonates with you. Having taken it upon yourself to prepare tonight’s meal for both the prince and yourself, you’ve decided to forego the usual bustle of the servants, wishing for an evening that is both intimate and personal.
Your skills in the culinary arts were honed under the meticulous guidance of Oliver, the head chef, who once admonished you with a half-hearted smile, "As a princess, you need not trouble yourself with such matters." Yet, your resolve was unwavering. You yearned to impress your mother with your cooking prowess, despite Oliver’s grumbling about how your insistence often interfered with the proper functioning of the kitchen.
As you meticulously arrange the ingredients and set about your task, the grand kitchen’s silence is broken by the entrance of Jacaerys. He strides in with a casual grace, his presence commanding attention. Leaning against the stone countertop, he casts a curious gaze over the assortment of fresh produce and exotic spices laid before you.
“I hear you are in the midst of culinary creations.” he says, his voice a blend of amusement and intrigue. “What feast do you plan to conjure for me this evening, my love?”
“Perhaps a succulent roast accompanied by a fine vintage of wine.” you reply, glancing up with a playful smile. The sight of his own smile, a beacon of warmth and affection, lights up the room and chases away the shadows of your apprehension. As you begin the labor of love that is meal preparation, Jacaerys offers his assistance, his eagerness evident in his frequent inquiries about how he might lend a hand. You allow him to partake in simpler tasks, finding his presence both a comforting and delightful addition to your culinary efforts.
The dining table is set with understated elegance, a reflection of your desire for simplicity rather than grandeur. Soft candlelight dances across the polished surface, casting a warm and inviting glow that enhances the romantic atmosphere. As you both settle into your seats, the conversation flows effortlessly, delving into reminiscences of days gone by, misunderstandings that once marred your relationship, and the myriad events that have shaped your journey together.
“I once believed you harbored ill feelings toward me, much like your brother.” Jacaerys muses, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “You avoided meeting my gaze, and I wondered if there was something I had done to offend.”
“That was not the case.” you respond with a chuckle. “Aemond was astute enough to perceive my secret admiration. I avoided his barbed comments by keeping my distance from you. Yet, despite my attempts at discretion, I could not help but watch you from afar.”
“It’s curious.” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of vulnerability, “that while you were discreetly observing me, I was also watching you. I admired how you appeared to light up in Aemond’s presence, how you seemed to find joy in the simplest of moments.”
“There is an odd kinship between us.” you reflect, a hint of melancholy in your voice. “We share the burden of feeling misunderstood, of fighting for a freedom that often seems just out of reach. In our pursuit of it, we have learned to grasp at every opportunity, no matter how fleeting.”
He sets his spoon down with deliberate care, his gaze never leaving yours. With a gesture both tender and resolute, he reaches out, clasping your hand in his. The sincerity in his eyes surpasses the most extravagant words, his commitment to you clear in his every expression. “Tonight, as my wife, your freedom shall be secure. No force shall ever take it from you again.”
You place your own spoon aside and return his gesture, your fingers intertwining with his. The gentle caress of your thumb against his hand speaks volumes, your heart swelling with gratitude. Your smile, genuine and heartfelt, conveys the depth of your emotions—an affirmation of the life you are beginning together.
“Thank you, my prince.” you say softly, your voice imbued with heartfelt sincerity. “Your promise is a gift I have longed for, and it is more precious to me than any grand feast.”
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You and Jacaerys are ensconced in the warmth of a lavish bath, the soft steam enveloping you both in a sensual embrace. The two of you are bare, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the way you lean back against his broad chest. Your hair is neatly pinned up, leaving your shoulders exposed to the gentle caress of his large hands as they trace soothing circles along your skin. His lips graze the back of your neck, your shoulders, and your cheeks, creating a cascade of tender kisses that leave you shivering with delight.
“I am so happy to be living this life with you, my prince.” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection.
“I am happy too.” he murmurs close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “And we shall be happy together forever.”
“Though it may sound selfish, I can’t bear the thought of returning to King’s Landing.” you confess. “I want to stay here with you, where it’s just us.”
“My princess is becoming a bit spoiled.” he teases with a chuckle. “First, we must be wed, and only then can we truly live the free life we desire.”
You don’t quite agree with the practicalities of his statement. Shifting in the water, you turn to face him, your eyes locking with his. You lean in slowly, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. The connection is magnetic, the way your bodies seem drawn together is palpable. But this time, it is he who pulls away first.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, his voice laden with a mix of concern and desire.
You nod firmly, your gaze unwavering. “I am sure.”
Without another word, Jacaerys closes the distance between you with a sudden, impassioned kiss. This time, the intensity of the moment is heightened, a fervor that feels almost like riding a dragon in its thrill. He deepens the kiss, then begins to explore the contours of your neck with his lips. The delicate blush of his kisses leaves a trail of warmth across your skin, each touch a testament to the profound connection between you.
As the bath's gentle warmth continues to surround you, you lose yourself in the sensation of his touch, your bodies intertwined in a dance of love and longing, creating a symphony of intimacy that feels both timeless and entirely your own.
In the steamy, dimly lit bathroom, the mood between you and Jacaerys is electric with anticipation. The air is thick with the intimate sounds of your breathing, the gentle splash of water, and the soft, muted noises of your kisses.
You feel the growing stiffness beneath you and instinctively begin to move your hips, gently rocking back and forth to create a slow, deliberate contact. The rhythm is intimate and sensual, each subtle motion amplifying the connection between you. The sounds of your kisses and the soft splashes of the water become louder, blending into a symphony of intimacy.
Jacaerys's mouth moves restlessly, expressing a deep-seated desire. He trails kisses along your body, his lips brushing and exploring every curve with fervent attention. His touch is tender but insistent, each caress a testament to the passion and longing that you both share in this secluded haven.
“Jace, I’m ready.”
"Be patient, my love." he responds, his tone tender yet commanding. He begins to use his fingers, sliding them slowly into you, which makes you lose your balance slightly. He lowers his head to your neck, his warm breath mixing with your soft whimpers and gasps, sending shivers across his skin.
His fingers move rhythmically in and out, his thumb grazing your clitoris, heightening your pleasure. The sensation is almost overwhelming, and you can feel his nails grazing your body, leaving a red mark as they press against him. Your hands reach up to his hair, tangling in the strands, pulling him closer, your grip gentle but insistent.
The intense sensation of his added finger and the deliberate strokes circling around
your clitoris nearly elicited a cry of pleasure. His tongue danced provocatively over the erect nipple on your chest, biting it gently. The sharp sting of his teeth was a delightful pain when it came from Jacaerys, adding an edge of pleasure to your experience.
"Now you're truly ready, my love." he murmured, withdrawing his fingers.
"Position yourself on me."
Obeying his command, you adjust yourself carefully, the rigid pressure of his desire urging you onward. You slowly lower yourself onto his erect shaft, the feeling of him filling you entirely is a blend of anticipation and satisfaction.
"Jace-" you moan softly, the bliss evident in your voice as you feel him fully enveloped inside you. He holds your hips with a firm, guiding grip, gently urging you to take all of him.
You manage to settle fully onto him, feeling the fullness of his size stretching you. The sensation is almost overwhelming, as if your body is being stretched to its limits.
Your inner walls tighten around him, desperately trying to adjust to his considerable girth. His hands gently cradle your face, his fingers tenderly brushing against your cheeks, his touch soothing as he removes the cloth binding your hair and tucks it behind your ears.
"If you're ready." he whispers near your ear, his breath warm and intimate, "you can begin to move."
You respond with a kiss, the moment filled with shared passion. As you start to move your hips up and down slowly, you feel the connection between you deepen. The rhythm you find is a blend of your efforts and his, each movement bringing a new wave of sensation. His hands leave your face, finding their place on your hips, guiding and controlling the pace with a firm yet gentle touch.
The initial discomfort of your first experience begins to transform into a pleasurable tingle, each stroke of his cock hitting your g-spot with precision as you glide up and down. The blend of pain and pleasure weaves together, heightening the joy and intensity of your shared moment.
The sounds of water gently sloshing in the bath, mingled with the soft echoes of your shared intimacy, create a symphony of passion in the dimly lit room. Outside, the maid might be oblivious to the intensity of the moment unfolding within, her routine entirely detached from the fervor within these walls.
But the distraction of external concerns is fleeting, as Jacarys draws your full attention back to him. Your hips move with an unpredictable rhythm, driven by the bliss of your union. The sensation of making love with him overwhelms you with a deep sense of fulfillment and joy.
"I feel so good, it's as if I'm close." he murmurs, his voice laden with satisfaction.
"Me too." you respond, your breath catching with the intensity of your feelings.
Your heart races, the tension building as your body tightens around him. The pleasure you're experiencing is intoxicating, your mind drifting away as the only focus becomes the insatiable need for him. In this moment, nothing else exists but the profound connection between you, a yearning that consumes every thought and sensation.
At last, the culmination of your shared passion arrives, and you both reach the peak of ecstasy simultaneously. The intensity of the moment sends waves of pleasure through you, leaving you utterly spent. As you collapse against him, your body feels languid and weak, enveloped in a profound sense of euphoria and relief. You feel his warmth and the intimate sensation of his release mingling within you, a tangible reminder of your union.
He cradles you gently, his embrace tender and reassuring amidst the afterglow. His voice, now softened by satisfaction, carries a hint of playful affection.
"It's time for bed, my wife." he murmurs, his tone a promise of quiet moments yet to come.
The warmth of his body and the comforting cadence of his voice invite you to relax into the serene closeness of your shared space, marking the end of a night filled with intense connection and unspoken promises for the future.
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You find him resting in your arms, his slumber deep and tranquil, his breath a gentle rhythm against the night. The moon’s pale light spills through the draped windows, casting soft patterns upon his serene countenance. He will remain in this restful state for many hours, long enough for you to embark upon the vessel bound for Driftmark. Far from this place, far from him.
Throughout your time together, the prince has bared his soul to you with a candor that once warmed your heart. Yet, the solitude afforded by your present circumstances has bestowed upon you a rare clarity. In this quiet, you have come to discern your own desires, your own truth. Despite the love you hold for Jacaerys, you have realized that a life of queenship is not the destiny you seek. It is a mantle you never wished to don, regardless of the depth of your affection.
A gentle rap upon the door serves as the herald of your departure. With swift and measured motions, you ready yourself, your attire meticulously chosen for the journey ahead. Zia’s careful preparations have made your flight possible. You are poised to leave behind all that you know, to seek the freedom you have longed for.
You approach your husband one final time, a pang of sorrow in your heart. Bending low, you place a tender kiss upon his brow, a silent adieu to the man you once envisioned sharing your days with. His unawareness of your departure, induced by the powerful sleeping draught you secured, adds a poignant note to your resolve.
“You shall be the only husband I ever claim.” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion as you brush away the tears that have stained your cheeks. The gravity of your choice is profound, yet it is a path you must follow for your own peace and liberation.
Zia leads you through the grand corridors to the quay where a small, waiting boat is moored. Her brother stands ready, his manner respectful as Zia whispers final instructions. The air is thick with anticipation.
“Let us not tarry.” you urge, urgency in your tone. “Should we delay further, we risk discovery.”
“Thomas, attend to the princess’s safety with the utmost vigilance.” Zia commands her brother, who acknowledges with a nod.
“I shall fulfill my duty with the greatest care, Your Highness.” Thomas assures, his voice steadfast.
You board the modest vessel with a sense of purpose, accompanied by a handful of soldiers who, though unaware of your true identity, are tasked with ensuring a smooth escape. Their presence, albeit limited in number, should suffice to deter any potential hindrance.
As the boat sets forth, gliding silently away from Dragonstone, you cast a final glance at Zia’s retreating figure. The image of Jacaerys, his face a fixture in your memories, lingers in your thoughts. The life you leave behind is one not of your choosing but of circumstance. Yet, as you embrace the path of your own making, a sense of liberation accompanies the uncertainty.
In a life where you were often the second choice, never the foremost, you now make a decision wholly for yourself. The journey ahead is both exhilarating and fraught with apprehension, but it is yours to command. As the boat progresses toward Driftmark, you are filled with both trepidation and hope. For the first time, you are not merely following a course dictated by others but charting a path of your own.
Tomorrow, you will embark on a new chapter, one where you are the mistress of your own fate. The voyage has only just begun, but for the first time, you are in command of your destiny, casting aside the shadows of the past for the promise of a future of your own design.
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As the past is immutable and beyond our reach to alter, one must inevitably decide what is truly desired. In the end, you have arrived at your own resolution. — [ END ]
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tag list : @r3va-dwme @ladyofvelaryon @mckennah123 @ericasabe @yohanseyebrowmole @mah1644 @miksde @staarflowerr @tempo-rary-fix @melsunshine @chlmtfilms
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pigeonpeach · 9 months
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Mother and Father moments.
Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!
Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.
She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.
So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.
“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.
“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,
“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.
“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.
“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.
“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.
“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.
“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“
“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.
“You’re right I know I know.”
“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”
“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.
“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”
“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.
“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.
“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”
“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”
“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.
“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”
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screamingwailing · 1 year
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Jealous/Aggressive!König x Reader Fic
CW: possessive!König, afab reader, oral (giving and receiving), aggressive unprotected sex, p in v action
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König is usually so kind and patient with you, so careful not to scare you or make you feel unsafe with his massive frame and dominating presence. He’s aware of how intimidating he can be, he normally strives for it, lives off the feeling of instilling fear. It’s how he’s so good at his job.
But…he isn't like that with you, never with you.
When he’s with you, Colonel König fades away, he just becomes yours. He can melt away from the blood, the death, the carnage. You’re his sanctuary. 
So when he comes back after a long mission and he sees you still up, playing a game with one of those fucking friends of yours - friends that he can hear are men - he snaps and loses it.
With your headphones on you don’t even hear him open the door, don’t see him stalk into the room, jealousy and spite in his eyes.
All he wanted when he came home was to unwind into you, to turn into the person he only ever was and could be with you, and some random nobody was in the way of that. He couldn’t have that. 
Without so much as a sound, he quickly turns you around in your chair, ripping your headset off, and muffling your frightened sounds with his massive hand. For the first time, you looked at him with fear. Why did he love it so?
Standing over you, hand covering your mouth and most of your face, gripping your head with a strength and force not familiar to you, you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. Gone is the man you fell in love with, in front of you was a monster no different from any other man on the battlefield. 
He glares down at you with a fiery vengeance. “I’m home meine Kleines.” 
Your head desperately moves, trying to escape his grasp, König gently tuts at you. 
“Ah-ah, meine Liebe. What do you think you are doing? Did you not miss me?” His voice practically came out in a hiss, sneer under his mask.
You look up at him, a pleading look in your tear-filled gaze. You did, you missed him more than anything. Why else would you stay up all night playing games with people you barely cared to remember the names of? Why else would you have a constant stream of distractions? The loneliness in absence of your king was all-consuming. But this wasn’t him, surely. Your König would never hurt you, never scare you like this.
He brings his other hand up to his masked face, signaling you to be quiet. You nod as much as he allows. Satisfied by your obedience, he slowly shifts the hand covering your mouth to instead firmly grab your chin and cheeks, his thumb and forefinger wrapping around you with a dull pain.
 “Doll, why is it that when your king came home to you, you weren’t waiting in bed? Did my absence mean nothing to you? Were you off trying to find someone new?” At this, the grip around you tightens, causing you to wince, tears falling down his fingers.
Seeing you wince, König falters for just a moment, his grip loosening just enough to allow you to speak. 
“N-no! I-…I would never! Please, why are you being like this, what did I do wrong?” 
Wrong answer. As if possessed, König’s eyes darken and grow cold once more. “Lügen! You lie, little mouse.”
He looms over you, rage and turmoil in his gaze. Desperate to get through to him, your voice becomes shrill with desperation. “I’m not lying, I promise! Please, you’re hurting me, let go!” 
König considers this for a moment, then cocks his head to the side, his eyes almost glowing red from the light of your computer. “Nein, I will not let go of you again. It seems I need to remind you who you belong to.” 
You gulp, your fear tingling with arousal. Regardless of his fearsome state, you can’t help but feel your body react to his words, your legs squirming together. König’s eyes flick towards the movement, not missing your reaction. 
Voice filled with an almost childlike mirth, he chuckles at this. “Ah, it seems your body remembers, even if its treacherous owner strays.”
He leans towards your head, breathing your scent in deeply. “I have missed you, so, meine Liebe. If only you had stayed good for me…if only I were enough for you.” 
Your eyes meet his, his mask still covering a majority of his expression. You don’t understand, he was his normal affectionate self when he had left for his most recent mission. You can feel your pulse rapidly beating in your throat, but still, you can’t help but notice the pain in his eyes. And even more obvious than this, the protruding bulge in his tactical pants. You’re afraid…you’re afraid but…it’s still König. You’d trust him with your life. You sharply inhale through your nose, closing your eyes momentarily, then exhaling and meeting his gaze once more. You’re no longer afraid. 
His massive hand is still gripping your face tightly, but he notices the change in your demeanor and steps back in confusion. You gently reach out, as if scared to frighten him. Your much smaller hand wraps around his wrist, pulling his hand back up to your throat. 
“I missed you too, König. More than you could ever know. You know you’re the only one for me. You’re my everything.” Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, bordering on obsession. 
König looks at you, conflicted, before his eyes harden once more. He steps forwards, his hand tightening around your throat. “Prove it to me. Prove to me that I am the only one for you.” 
He lets go of your throat, instead guiding your head towards his straining bulge. Without wasting a moment, you lunge forward, as if starved. In a way, you were; it had been so long since your king had been home with you. You make sure to lock eyes with him as your teeth close around his zipper, pulling it down agonizingly slow. He groans in anticipation, his fingers sliding through your hair. He impatiently tugs, urging you on. Wanting to please, you kiss him through his boxers, suckling and gently biting along his shaft through the fabric. 
“Enough teasing, Liebe. I want your mouth around me” He grits out, his pupils blown out in arousal. 
Your heart rate increases again, this time in anticipation, as you tug his clothing down. His cock bounces up against his stomach and you almost moan at the sight. Without wasting any time, you engulf his tip between your lips, making sure to wrap your tongue around at the same time. He hisses in surprise, his cock already starting to leak in your mouth. You suck harder on his tip, savoring the taste of him. You lock eyes as you take him deeper, tears already forming from the stretch in your mouth. His head falls back for a moment, lost in pleasure, before gripping your hair tighter. 
“Deeper” he growls out. It’s not a request, it’s an order, and you’re more than happy to comply. 
Taking him deeper, you gag around him. He’s so fucking big, you can barely continue. You wrap your hands around his thick shaft, making sure to pump whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Your drool drips down him, mixing with his precum. You moan around him, bobbing your head faster, trying to take him as deep as you can.
“Scheiße, that’s it. Such a good little whore for me. God, have I missed this mouth.” 
König looks down on you, shoving your head down further as his eyes roll back in pleasure. You gag around him, tears streaming down your face. You aren’t used to him manhandling you like this, but you can’t deny what it does to you. You feel the heat between your legs, the growing wet spot in your underwear only getting worse with each passing moment. Something about the utter possession and loss of control makes you crazy, your mouth bobbing faster, drool dripping all the way down to König’s heavy balls. 
Looking up at him with your tear streaked cheeks and red eyes, König can’t help but groan at the sight, his balls tightening. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, especially since it’s been so long since he last felt you. 
König’s grip on your hair grows painful as he lets out a low moan. “Kleines, take it for me. I’m going to cum down your throat. You’ll be such a good whore and swallow it all for me, ja?” 
You hum your approval around him, groaning in anticipation. The vibration sends him over the edge and you feel hot liquid spurt down your throat. As promised, you do your best to swallow every drop, your mind hazing with the taste and overwhelming sensation of König all around you. Despite your best efforts, you begin to choke, his cum seemingly never ending. He pulls your head back, finishing his climax on your face. You look up at him with a look of utter bliss, eyes clouded in lust, cum dripping down your face and down your chin. 
“My god, look at you, Schatz. So perfect for me, such a good little cumslut. Gutes Mädchen.” König’s voice is gravelly from the pleasure, praise spilling from his lips like a prayer. 
His strong arms lift you up as he carries you to your bedroom. Completely cumdrunk, you don’t even notice until you feel him throw you onto the bed. Like a predator stalking his prey, König’s massive frame draws closer, the bed creaking under his weight. He grips your thighs strong enough to bruise as he spreads them. He lifts his mask up just enough to show his chiseled jaw and scarred lips, his long tongue tracing his near fang-like canines as he takes in the delicious sight of you before him. 
“Meine Kleine, you did so well for me. Let me reward you” König practically purrs out, before he lifts your legs upwards as he dives towards your heat. 
Still cumdrunk, you moan at the sudden pleasure, your mind further clouding with König’s skilled tongue at work. You feel him expertly work you, his tongue pushing deep within you as he thumbs your clit. He groans against you and you can feel his grin against your cunt. His nose presses against your clit as he pushes his tongue in deeper, adding a finger to further your pleasure. You feel his finger push up against the spot that makes you see stars as his tongue slips out of you and over your sensitive clit. You scream out, unable to stop your cries. This only spurs him on more, König positively ravenous for you, drinking in every noise you make. He noisily laps around your clit, sensing your oversensitivity, as he adds a second thick finger. You whine at the stretch, wanting more while also adjusting to the intrusion. 
“P-please, König! I need you, please, please-” you beg for him, watching his breath quicken in response. 
König pulls away from your dripping pussy to shush you,“Shh, patience, Schatz. All in due time.” 
You whine in response, attempting to buck your hips against his face. He holds your legs tighter, squeezing them and pulling them more firmly while pushing you against the bed. You can’t help but twitch in response, loving how easily he can maneuver you. One hand is enough to hold you down while the other brutally fucks into your heat, relentlessly thrusting his fingers in and out of you, palm slapping against your clit as he laps around your folds. You can feel your climax building, keening and squirming in his grasp. A silent scream escapes your lips as you feel König wrap his mouth around your sensitive nub, sucking your clit while still working your soaking cunt. 
“There it is, Schatz, let go for your King. Show me that you belong to me, that you will only cum for me.” 
Your release rips through you violently, your vision going white as your entire body lifts and shakes, trembling through the powerful orgasm. König continues to roughly finger you through it, torturing you with his continuous ministrations. He smirks down at you as you attempt to squirm away. 
“Now, now, Liebe. You didn’t think I would be satisfied with just that, did you? I know you can cum again for me.” 
König latches his mouth around you once again, his fingers rhythmically abusing your sensitive insides, pumping them against your spot over and over. You scream as another orgasm is ripped from you, tears once again streaming down your face. Panting from the overexertion, your legs quake and twitch. 
“Gutes Mädchen, such a good slut for me” König looks at you smugly, pride and confidence clearly showing in his eyes. 
Still between your legs, you feel something hot against your entrance. König continues to grip your legs tightly, looking at you with a new glint in his eyes: a look of predation, of total need and lust. You shudder, another wave of arousal hitting your already exhausted body. 
“Are you ready, meine Liebe?” König looms over you, a toothy grin set on his face as he pushes inside you. 
You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you’re entirely filled, the stretch of König’s fingers nothing in comparison to his monstrous cock. Long and girthy, he fills you like no one else, reminding you with each thrust just who you belong to. As he pounds into you, your throat becomes raw with broken sobs and moans. He fucks you like an animal, all need and desire, carnal nearly to the point of pain. König folds you in half with his massive frame, tantalizing moans and grunts coming from above you as he fucks you faster. 
You can tell he’s about to cum, to completely fill you inside and mark you as his. As his orgasm approaches his thrusts become erratic and impatient, sounds of skin slapping against skin and dueted moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. You’re about to cum for a third time, this time with him. 
As König’s orgasm tears through him he lunges his mouth forward, attacking your throat with his sharp canines. Practically growling around your throat, he marks you both inside and out, painting your insides with his cum while he draws blood on your throat. 
He collapses on top of you for a moment before slowly rising and looking at your fucked-out expression. As if the spell on him finally dissipated, König calms for the first time since his arrival. He gently strokes your sweaty hair from your face, kissing your forehead. He collapses back against your chest, clinging to your form tightly. “I..I’m sorry, meine Liebe. When I was in the field you were all I thought of. Every day, I only thought of returning to you. To come home to you speaking to another, I couldn’t bear it.” 
You sigh softly before looking at him with a soft smile before saying the words you’ve been practicing in secret, “Du bist mein ein und alles, König”.  
His eyes widen at this, then soften and close once more, finally content and at peace with his love. No more words need to be exchanged, you both understand what you mean to one another. Finally, you could rest with your König. 
hello meowdy! this is my first fic, pls b kind ;;
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spacerockfloater · 6 months
Text
I’m going to preface this post by saying I don’t give a flying fuck about the hate I’m going to receive for the opinion I will be sharing and I won’t bother replying to any comments attacking me for it.
I fucking LOVE that Aemond killed Luke and I wish it wasn’t accidental. I wish Luke’s death was full on intentional, lol.
As a victim of bullying, I’ve been in situations where I have had to fend off 20+ kids as a kid myself. I’ve been verbally, physically, emotionally and psychologically assaulted as a child by other children, simply because I wanted, strived for and had good grades in school, actions that did not affect any of my classmates in the slightest. Therefore, I absolutely sympathise with Aemond, whose lack of dragon and later on his acquisition of one hurt no one (dragons belong to no one, you snooze you lose), yet he still got ridiculed and attacked for it. Yes, Aegon was also a bully and I hate him for it, but ultimately he grows out of it and supports his family, unlike the Strong bastards who remain bullies and assaulters. Oh, and Aemond tried to hit Jace with a rock because he attacked him first. Accusing him for standing up for himself is victim blaming. People who defend the Strong boys are bullies and that’s final.
No, I don’t give a rat’s ass that his attackers were children. Aemond was a child, too, and they ganked him 4v1. It’s crazy how some of y’all support physically attacking someone because you don’t agree with them. It was satisfying to see him kick their teeth in. Aemond and Luke are only 2 years apart, even if the actors’ appearances suggest otherwise. Your age does not excuse you being a fucking piece of shit. Children and teenagers appear on the news daily as rapists, killers, assaulters and all kind of criminals. That’s the reason juvie exists. Children should face the consequences of their actions.
“Are you excusing child murder?” if it is by the hand of the child they unapologetically disabled, fuck yeah. Besides, at the end of the day, Aemond dies, too, so you could say justice is served.
Still, I would have given the Strong boy the benefit of the doubt if it weren’t for this scene:
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Lucerys is laughing at Aemond.
He is looking him in the eye and he is laughing at him. It’s been 6 fucking years. Lucerys is 17 (confirmed by the writers) and he feels no remorse for what he did. He was not punished for his action, so he has learned nothing.
He feels safe to mock Aemond, in the comfort and safety of his grandfather’s house, where his guard and stepdad can stop Aemond, whom he cannot beat on his own, from bashing his head against the wall. He feels safe to attack Aemond when he calls him Strong, knowing that other people will finish the fight he started but can’t win.
But what happens when no one is around to protect him from the consequences of his own actions? He shits himself. His face falls, he stumbles backwards and does not object to Aemond calling him Strong.
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Not laughing now, huh, you little shit stain?
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"I hate the new hero" is such a brilliant fic idea! I absolutely devoured it. 
 
Especially if we throw in some angst into it. *evil laugh*
Like, what if the harassment was too much that it affected the reader’s other life?
What was at first a way for her to hide her superhero identity.. had now made her doubt her vigilante work?
 
I know the BatBoys won’t act as low to actually physically harass who they thought was a civilian student, no matter how much they hate it, but they’ll definitely make their life worse. Online harassment, endless accusations, fake rumours that caused the reader to be hated by the entire school. 
 
Until one day you had enough. As much as reader love Gotham, wanting to protect it. But you were only a student now.. a teenage with a future to strive for, a future Gotham Academy could no longer provide you. 
 
‘Are these people the ones I risk my life every night for..?’
‘What was the point..’
All kinds of self deprecating dark thoughts swirl inside the mind of the teenage girl. 
 
After some thought, you decided. 
 
“I’m leaving Gotham,” Aranea announces, sharp eyes looking down the streets of the city from the high rooftop. 
 
Red Robin almost lost his cool, a cold shudder went through him at the horrifying revelation. It was so sudden, why are you leaving? Leaving Gotham? Leaving them? Leaving him?
 
His brilliant mind moved at an almost inhuman speed, creating hundreds of possibilities for why you would come to that decision.
 
But he just doesn’t understand. “Why?” He finally let out, his voice so low he was worried you didn’t catch it. 
 
But you did. “I have my reasons.” You sigh, your brows furrowing in distress.
 
Oh, how Tim wished he could kiss your worries away. It kills him to see you so troubled.
 
“Why? Is something wrong?” He urged, his tone sounding desperate. “I swear if Red Hood did something—“
 
“No,” You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong. At least not with you guys.”
 
“Then what is it?” He eyes you, trying to read you. “Is it your day life? Your life behind the mask?”
 
You didn’t answer, avoiding his gaze. You were too quiet, it was such a strange sight. Your eyes held a certain sadness, your smile gone. It’s killing him.  
 
Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. “Then tell me, tell me who you are. Let us help you.” He begs; he knows he’ll do anything you ask him to, and he knows his family would do the same. 
 
“You know we can’t do that.” You shook your head. 
 
Damn, this is getting too long. Haha.. I’ll stop. But yeah. It’s a brilliant idea. 
 
Imagine how crazy he’ll react if he knew that he was the cause of your worries. He was the one who hurt you. The angst will be delicious. 
STOP YOU'RE ACTUALLY READING MY MIND!!
Not to spoil too much but in future chapters Reader will start to doubt themselves and cracks will show.
Reader may also look elsewhere for places to save. After all, Gotham already has so many heroes, what's one gone?
But they can't let the optimistic sweetheart of a hero go now, can they? You know what they say, you can take the man out of the city but not the city out the man...
Who said that?! 😮‍💨
And for the third paragraph, I absolutely agree! They wouldn't stoop so low as to actually assault Reader. But that doesn't mean they can't misuse the power they have over Gotham (both in their vigilante life and real life).
Though if I were to say one name that I think would get slightly physical (passive aggressively) I would have to say Dick.
Dick is such an emotionally complex character. Damian has learnt from his past and knows better thanks to Bruce, Bruce wouldn't risk anything and would instead just verbally cause harm, Jason doesn't actually resort to violence a lot - he yells, he punches walls, etc but he has never actually hit someone without proper reason/justification, Tim is above violence while a civilian.
The way Dick would do it would be so casual though - a hug too tight, a handshake that "accidentally" breaks a finger, a hard "pat" on the back that makes you spit out whatever you're eating/drinking, small things that don't seem like much.
I also want to state that the Reader is very complex as well with how I write them. Their true personality is cautious, ambitious, kind, sarcastic, kinda cold and loyal but they either display one part too much or too little - kind, loyal and ambitious during hero work is up to 100 while cautious, sarcastic, cold is hidden at 30. Whereas while a civilian they show caution, coldness, sarcasm at 100 with loyalty, kindness and ambition down to 30-40.
I won't say much more though, again Reader is you guys so their "true" personality is up to you - this is just how they're perceived by people.
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