#you're stronger than anyone v
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krusekis · 11 months ago
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Ah yes. Me. My output. And the rogue AIs beyond the Blackwall.
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sometimes a family can be just a girl, her output, and the rogue AIs beyond the Blackwall
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Deleted and reposted the first part so they'd be together :>
I didn't know there was a second part to the meme lol. The girlfriend's reply tweet seems to have been take down though.
Original Tweet: https://twitter.com/SkoochLoL/status/1269363003901657088
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cowboybeepboop · 1 month ago
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Fling
“God damn it Y/N... you're going to be the death of me.”
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader 
Genre: Smut
Word count: 2.5k
Summary: Fucking during a storm
Warnings: Public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, not proofread. 
a/n: I’m currently posting a little bit of everything so if you have any requests for any fandom you can send it my way and I’ll do my best :) Also idk this one is just a random ass idea I had 
You and Tyler have been sneaking around for a couple months, the rest of the team doesn’t know about it. It first started with a drunk hookup but then you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 
It’s nothing too serious, at least not right now. Tyler isn’t exactly sure what you two are yet, but he knows he’s a lot more protective and possessive in you than he’s ever been with any other girl. He doesn’t share you with the guys and tries to subtly mark his territory in public, something you’re entirely obvious to. 
You yawn as you step out of your motel room, nearly crashing into Tyler who’s standing with a coffee in his hand. 
Tyler reaches his arm out stopping you from falling, one hand around your waist and the other holding the coffee. “Woah, watch where you’re going darlin.” He chuckles.
“What are you doing? Creeping outside my room?” You tease, quirking an eyebrow at him.
Tyler chuckles again as he stands you steady, taking a sip of his coffee. “Well I was waiting for you to get your sleepy ass out of there! It’s like 9am. The hell have you been doing in there?”
“Maybe I had company,” you keep the teasing tone, walking down the stairs with Tyler at your heels.
Tyler grabs your wrist stopping you from walking any farther, making you turn to face him, the two of you still on the stairs. “You didn’t…?” He asks looking down at you, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist.
You giggle softly, “Of course not.” You walk down the stairs to the truck greeting Boone and the rest of the team.
The day of chasing starts very eventfully, you’re sat in the passenger side of Tyler’s truck. It’s just the two of you, Boone and Lily in the other vehicles for once.
Throughout the day, Tyler finds himself stealing glances of you in the passenger seat, the thought of anyone else “visiting” you this morning has been on his mind all day, even throughout chases. He’s always had a possessive side but for some reason it’s ten times stronger with you.
You reach over placing your hand on his thigh, your eyes are focused on the storm in front of the vehicle.
Tyler almost flinches slightly to your touch, but then he relaxes, your hand on his thigh is now the only thing he can focus on. He glances down at it before returning his eyes to the road, clearing his throat a little awkwardly before speaking. “You really didn’t… have any visitors this morning did you?” He asks, trying to sound nonchalant but only coming off as a bit jealous.
“Tyler of course not,” you laugh. “Is that why you’ve been so sour today? You know I was just teasing you.”
He sighs, a look of slight relief coming over his face as he realizes you were just teasing him. “I know you were. I just couldn’t help but think you were getting up to something. You were sleeping in awfully late this morning.” He glances over at you, a sly smile appearing on his face.
“Whatever, I was just tired.” You retort. “But you know.. I’ve been thinking,”
He raises his eyebrows as he continues to pay attention to the road, he’s all too familiar with the tone you’re using right now. “Oh, have you? And what have you been thinking about?”
“It’s just, there’s something I wanna try..” you rub soft circles into his thigh.
Tyler can feel the heat from your hand on his thigh radiating through his jeans. He shifts his legs apart slightly before speaking again. 
“What is it? What do you wanna try?” His voice is low as he speaks, sounding as if he already knows where you’re going with this.
“Well, we’ve been chasing for a while, it’s thrilling and all but..” You gulp, cheeks flushed. “I’ve always wanted to have sex during a storm.. outside.”
Tyler almost swerves the car a little as your words register in his head. He wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt. 
“Y-you wanna.. what?” He can feel the heat building in his face, but he manages to keep his voice steady.
“I’ve always thought it would be hot.. to do it outside, you know.” You move your hand further up his thigh.
Tyler lets out a soft groan, he glances out the window, the storm is getting further away as the tornado is dying out, and the sun is setting. 
“You really wanna do it out here? In public?” He asks, knowing he’s not going to be able to deny you anything.
“We could.. do it in a barn or behind a building.” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes focused on his face.
Tyler’s fingers are gripping the steering wheel tightly as your words flood his mind. The way you’re looking at him is not helping either. 
“Y-yeah, yeah a barn would work..” He chokes out, already considering the risks of someone seeing you two together in broad daylight.
“You think?” You perk up, shifting in your seat. “You’d actually.. want that?”
He glances at you, seeing how excited you are to do this in the first place. God when did he become such a pushover for you.
“Yeah. I’d want that. A lot actually.” He smiles devilishly, already scouting out a location in his mind.
You lean over pressing kisses to his neck, your hand sliding up his leg.
Tyler swallows hard, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to try and stop your hand from moving any higher. 
“G-god damn it darlin. I’m driving.” He says, his breath hitching in his throat when your lips press against his neck.
“I know.. I just can’t help myself.” You whisper against his skin.
His hand tightens around your wrist as he looks over at you, taking in your eager form. He’s only human and he’s been craving your touch for so long. “You keep doing that and we ain’t gonna make it to a barn.”
You continue to pepper kisses against his flesh, your hand squeezing his thigh. “You have me so worked up..”
He grits his teeth as your hand continues to rub his thigh, your lips against his skin make it incredibly hard to focus on the road. 
“Jesus darlin.. I think I see a barn up ahead. Hang on.” He swerves off to the side, quickly parking. He told the rest of the team to stay back  while you two do the chasing. He leads you to the barn hand intertwined with yours.
Tyler pulls you through the barn door, shutting and barricading it behind you. He quickly pulls you behind a high stack of hay, his body immediately pressed up against yours. 
“God damn it darlin.. I’ve been craving this all day.” You press your lips to his hungrily, the warring of the storm outside adding to the passion.
Tyler’s hands grip your waist, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, desperate to taste you. He pushes you back against a wall, his body pinning you in place as he continues to kiss you passionately.
He pulls away for a moment taking in your form, your face is flushed and your breath is heavy. He’s never seen anything so beautiful before. “God damn it Y/N... you're going to be the death of me.”
“Ty.. I need you.” You pull your skirt up, leaning back against the wall. Your free hand pulls his body closer, fingers digging into his side.
He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to your legs as you pull up your skirt. His hands move to the front of his jeans, struggling to unbutton them. 
“You have no idea what you're doing to me right now... I've been thinking about you all day.”
You help him, trying to free his erection as fast as you can. “Tyler, enough talking.” You kiss him hungrily, the wind whistling in the distance.
He pushes your hand away, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his aching erection. He pins you up against the wall, his hands moving up your legs, under your skirt. His hips roll against yours, desperate to relieve the pressure he's been feeling all day. 
“God damn it..” He pants, his head falling forward as he tries to focus. He moves his face to your neck, his lips trailing kisses down to your collarbone.
You let out desperate moans, moving your panties to the side so he can slide inside you.
Tyler groans loudly as he pushes himself inside you, his hands now on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he bottoms out.
With a rough growl of desire, Tyler starts to thrust into you, his movements urgent and demanding as the wind outside seems to echo your own passion. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as the barn creaks around you, muffling the sounds of your union. 
Rain begins to pound against the roof, adding to the intensity of the moment as your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels almost primal. You can feel the storm's electricity in the air, mirroring the intensity of your own desires as Tyler claims you, right here in the middle of nature's fury. 
The scent of damp earth and hay fills your nose, mixing with the musky scent of Tyler's body. The storm outside seems to fuel your passion, making every touch, every kiss feel more urgent and necessary than ever before.
With a fiery need burning through him, Tyler's hands slide up your body, gripping the soft flesh of your breasts as he kisses you deeply. His movements become more erratic, driven by the pounding of the rain and the crackle of thunder. 
You arch into his touch, your nails digging into his back as you try to get closer, needing more of him. The barn feels alive around you, the storm's fury matching the tempestuous passion that has overtaken you both. Your breath mingles with his, coming out in short, ragged pants that sync with the increasing tempo of your love making. 
Each thrust is met with a moan, the sound lost in the cacophony of the storm, as Tyler claims you over and over again, marking you as his in this most primitive of ways. The wind howls outside, but it's nothing compared to the intensity of your shared desire as you climb closer to the edge of pleasure, your bodies moving in a dance as old as time itself.
As the storm reaches its crescendo, so does Tyler's passion, his thrusts becoming more powerful and punctuated by the cracks of lightning that pierce the sky. You moan louder, your body responding eagerly to his every move. The sound of rain drumming against the barn roof is the only music to your symphony of desire. 
He kisses you deeply, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he pulls back, leaving you gasping for breath. His eyes are filled with a fierce hunger, the kind that can only be satisfied by the person they're devouring. You can feel yourself tightening around him, the promise of release coiling in your belly like a serpent ready to strike. 
Tyler's hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he lifts you off the ground, holding you in place against the wall. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, the sensation of him filling you completely sending sparks through your body. 
The world outside the barn is a whirlwind of chaos, but in here, all that matters is the two of you, lost in the eye of the storm, your bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. The barn feels like it's shaking with the force of your passion, and you know that you're about to reach the peak of the tempest together.
As the storm reaches its peak, Tyler's movements become more frenzied, his eyes never leaving yours as he feels you tighten around him, the signs of your impending climax written all over your face. 
With a grunt of pure masculine need, he drives into you even harder, pushing you both closer to the precipice. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders, as you feel the beginnings of your orgasm start to build. 
The thunder outside seems to sync with your heartbeat, the lightning flashing through the gaps in the barn's walls illuminating the sweat-drenched, desperate expressions on your faces. The wind howls around you, echoing the sounds of your passionate cries as you both give in to the intensity of the moment. 
Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin sticking together as you move in unison, the rain outside turning the hay beneath you into a wet, squelching mess that only serves to enhance the carnality of your encounter. And just as a particularly vivid bolt of lightning pierces the sky, casting a stark, white light across the barn, you both shudder in unison, reaching that pinnacle of pleasure and letting it crash over you like a wave, your cries of ecstasy joining with the thunder as you cling to each other, lost in the tempest of your love.
As the thunder rumbles in the aftermath of your shared climax, Tyler's arms tighten around you, his breathing ragged in your ear. He whispers sweet nothings, his words barely audible over the dwindling storm. He gently sets you back on your feet, kissing your forehead tenderly before helping you fix your clothes. 
The barn feels warmer now, despite the chilly rain outside, the air thick with the scent of passion and the earthy aroma of wet hay. You both stand there for a moment, catching your breath, your eyes locked in an intimate gaze that speaks of secrets and promises unspoken. Tyler's hand lingers on your waist, his thumb brushing the soft skin just above your hip. 
The storm outside begins to calm, the rain slowing to a gentle patter, almost as if it's giving you two a moment of peace after the tumultuous chaos. You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
The world outside seems so far away, and all that matters is the warmth and comfort you find in his embrace as the storm slowly fades away into the night.
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yawnderu · 9 months ago
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MDNI. p in v penetration, hardcore sex, choking, wrestling, punching, biting, nosebleed, scratching, creampie. Keegan calls anyone younger than him ''kid''.
“Give up, kid.” Your body thrashes underneath him, trying to get out of the rough headlock he put you in. Your closed fist slams against his leg multiple times, only making him apply more pressure, not letting you go even when your nails dig deeper and deeper into his skin.
“Fuck you... cunt.” You barely manage to mutter through gritted teeth, black dots appearing in your vision the harder he chokes you. He keeps your neck pressed against his bicep and forearm, flexing the muscle, sickly getting off on the way your loud gasps and whines ring around the training room.
The pressure in your face grows stronger by the second, loud gasps leaving your lips once he finally lets go, pushing your smaller body out of the way.
“If you're struggling that much, this isn't the place for you.” He spits out, clearly wanting a reaction out of you— and a reaction he gets the moment your elbow connects to his face, putting as much force as you can in hurting him, even if you have to play dirty.
Keegan's rough, calloused hand goes up to his nose the moment he feels warmth leaking down and the familiar taste of iron filling his mouth. He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head softly and not even bothering to wipe down the blood staining his pale skin, letting it pool around his wife beater.
For anyone else, he'd look oddly unbothered by it, simply looking down at the floor and maybe even regretting being an asshole. For you? You know it's the calm before the storm, annoyance silently boiling inside him, slowly reaching its breaking point.
He licks his blood-stained lips before looking down at you, lifeless blue eyes simply staring for a few seconds, letting the silence linger simply to make you nervous.
Stubbornness and something else brew inside you the moment your eyes drift down, noticing the way his pants are tightening up, the outline of his thick cock showing more by the second. It's a subtle glance before your eyes meet his, yet by the annoying smirk on his lips, you can tell he knows.
You're stuck in a staring competition, refusing to give him the pleasure of letting him intimidate you the same way he does to everyone else. Keegan's stare may seem cold, yet you can see fire dancing in his baby-blue eyes, slowly coming to a breaking point. His lips crash against yours seconds later, rough hands opening your legs wide enough for his burly body to fit between them, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your pussy.
“Fuck you.” You repeat, pure venom in your tone despite the way your lips immediately go back to his. Keegan's tongue wraps around yours as his hand goes down to the hem of his pants, pulling out his cock with ease and laying it down on your stomach.
“Fuck me?” He whispers, letting out a dry chuckle at your vigorous nod. You don't need to look down to realize just how big Keegan's cock is, feeling the weight and warmth of it spreading all over your stomach, not protesting even when he rips your shorts and panties off of you, leaving them hanging on your ankle.
“Yeah... fuck you.” The way you're as stubborn as a mule even when he can see your exposed, sopping cunt almost makes him laugh, yet he doesn't need to be told twice. His leaking tip rubs against your folds, your slick and his precum mixing for a few seconds before he lines himself up, entering your needy cunt with a hard thrust. Your moans and gasps are silenced by his lips, barely even giving you time to get used to his meaty cock before he's slamming into you, shoving himself as deep as possible.
The disagreements you had in the past are slowly being pulled out of your brain with each hard thrust, silently surrendering as your velvety walls clench around him, the lewd sounds of muffled moans and your wet cunt being roughly fucked form a symphony, bouncing off the walls of the empty training room.
“This what you needed? To be fucked stupid by a big cock?” Keegan's sarcastic tone leaves you breathless, another whiny moan leaving your lips when his hips slam faster against yours, his meaty thighs ramming against your ass. His hands grip your waist tightly as he hammers into your needy cunt, short nails digging into your flesh with an intensity born of his own desires.
“Fuck— I'm sorry, kid.” His pathetic excuse of an apology is clearly fake, leaving you confused until you feel his teeth sinking into your shoulder, muffling the deep moans leaving his lips the moment he can feel his muscles tightening up, moving faster and harder inside you. You let out a pained groan, nails sinking deep into his muscular back, dragging them down in an attempt at dealing with the overwhelming sensation of his fat cock hitting your cervix over and over.
Keegan is about to pull out before your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer and closer until he lets out a deep grunt, hips stuttering as his cock throbs, shooting endless ropes of thick cum right into your needy, tight walls, making sure to shove himself as deep as possible while your cunt instinctively milks him dry.
His heavy body collapses over yours, trembling with the aftermath of your intense encounter. His heart races in his chest as he basks into the sensation of having empty balls and a warm body underneath him— despite the way your palm is connecting with his ribs harshly.
“Get off of me.” Your protests go ignored, letting out a loud sigh when you hear snores right against your ear.
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gor3-hound · 5 months ago
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GIVE ME LOVE // NAOYA ZENIN
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ft. brother!naoya x sister!reader
a/n: art by @/sakurai_itachi on twitter/x !! another commission for my fave @nexysworld ♡ more naoya... i feel like i'm single handedly populating the naoya x reader tag atp 😭😭😭 as always, feedback and reblogs super appreciated !!
cw: 18+ content, brother/sister incest, breeding, misogyny, kinda dub-con but very barely, spit, kissing, p in v, creampie, biting, tinyyyy amount of blood, naoya has feelings that he doesn't know how to handle, cockwarming
word count: 1.9k words
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Growing up in the Zen'in clan taught you one important lesson - women would always be seen as inferior to men. It did not matter how hard you worked to prove yourself to the Elders in the clan. You were a woman, and that was crime enough.
More than anyone, Naoya had every right to resent you. Your mere existence was an inconvenience to him, but more than that, your birth dishonoured him. He already had to fight harder than your brothers to climb to the top and become the head of the clan, but sharing a womb with a woman was unforgivable. He was constantly ridiculed for having a female twin, and in turn, you were treated as a stain on the Zen'in name for bringing shame to a Zen'in heir.
Despite everything, Naoya could not bring himself to hate you. You were nothing but a woman, a thing. But he could not see his own twin as such. You were close when the two of you were younger, but as the years went on, you grew more and more distant. Now, with both of you past the age of adulthood and his claim to the clan stronger than before, you've been completely avoiding him.
If anyone asked why he was so obsessed with your absence, he would lie and say that his ego would not allow a mere woman to disrespect him so heavily by thinking she could be the one to ignore him, but the truth of the matter was that he missed you. Dearly. The thought alone had him burning red with embarrassment. He was meant to be better than this, and yet he was letting his emotions get the better of him over a stupid girl.
He strolls to your room late at night when he's sure he won't be caught. He doesn't want to explain to any of the assholes in his clan that he was about to grovel to his sister because he missed her company. He'd never recover. In fact, Naoya would rather die on the spot than be caught being so soft around you.
Naoya takes a deep breath before he pushes open the door to your room, eyes falling on your form sitting at the edge of your bed, bent over a book. He runs a hand through his hair before rapping his knuckles against the open doorway to get your attention.
“Hey.” He murmurs, shifting awkwardly between his feet, clearing his throat when you look up at him. “I piss you off or something? No need to be a bitch about it. Can't do anything if you don't tell me.”
He inwardly cringes at his words. He doesn't know how to do this, but he was willing to apologise if he upset you. He shuts his eyes for a moment sighing before speaking up again. “You've been avoidin’ me. Don't let what the old bastard said at dinner the other night get to you. I know you're a woman, but you're still a Zen'in. No need to be so sensitive.”
“I haven't been avoiding you.” You say in response, brows knitting together. Both of you know it's a lie - you'd always been an awful liar. Naoya scoffs, raising a brow at you. “And it had nothing to do with father. I've gotten used to him over the course of over two decades being his daughter.”
“You are avoiding me.” He huffs, stepping into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. “Don't bullshit me. You're a fuckin’ awful liar.”
Your jaw tenses for a moment as you close your book, setting it on the bedside table. Your eyes flick up, meeting him as he sits at the head of your bed, leaning back against the pillows.
“Father has not bothered me.” You repeat, running a hand over your face. “But our eldest brother has spoken of marrying the girl he's seeing. You spend too much time with me. We aren't kids anymore. My presence isn't helping your reputation. If we were seen less together, you could have more luck producing and heir to solidify your claim to-”
He should hate you, really. You'd ruined his chances at the life he wanted - the life he deserved a chance at by birth. He wasn't used to this tightness in his chest. Why was he so upset by you acting as if you were the reason he was seen as lesser by the clan if it was the truth?
“Are you fuckin' kiddin’ me?” Naoya hisses, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “We both know my claim was practically non-existent the moment your gender was revealed at birth. Not spendin’ time together isn't gonna do shit.”
He pauses for a moment, his eyes dropping to flicker over your body in a way that makes you tense. You can feel his gaze burning through you, a knot twisting your stomach. His expression darkens as he meets your eyes once more - he's made up his mind.
“You can fix this, y'know.” He murmurs, shifting closer to you in the bed. He chuckles as you back up, grin spreading across his face when you're pressed back against the headboard with nowhere to go. Naoya let's his head dip forward, nosing at the crook of your neck.
“So worried about my reputation. It isn't your place as a woman to worry about me.” He growls against your neck, continuing the trail of heated kisses along your skin, tongue darting out to taste you. He bites down before pulling back to meet your eyes. “If father needs an heir to legitimise me, we'll give him one.”
“Naoya, we can't. You're my brother-”
He cuts you off with a laugh, running his tongue along his teeth before he continues sucking marks along the length of your throat. “And? Our cousin did it, and he's on a vacation in Venice with his sister. As long as it's not a servant girl, our dear father doesn't give a shit.”
“You're nothing.” He hisses against your skin. To him, it isn't an insult. It's a mere fact. His breath is hot against the skin of your neck as he pulls back just enough to gaze at your body, hands moving to gently pull open your robes. “I can make you something. Give you some power in the clan. Just need you to go along with this, yeah?”
He kisses you to silence any protests that might bubble up, pushing the fabric away from your body as he works on undressing himself. He kisses you like he wants to possess you, teeth pulling at your lower lip, hands grasping your waist tight enough to bruise as soon as they're free. Naoya slips his tongue into your mouth with a groan, tasting you, claiming you. 
You break the kiss when you feel his fingers hook themselves in the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting open. “Naoya, wait-” 
“Shut up.” He hisses, but there's no real bite behind his words. He lines himself up with your entrance, chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual as he struggles to calm his breathing. “This is your duty. You ruined me. You can… you can fix this. You said you wished to help me solidify my claim, yeah? That's why you're avoidin’ me? This is how you can make up for all the years of ridicule I was subjected to.”
He presses forward slightly, just enough that you can feel the pressure of his cock trying to break through the tight ring of muscle. You take a deep breath, waiting for movement that doesn't come. He's just staring at you - waiting for some kind of agreement, you realise. With a shaky breath, you push back against him, nails digging into his arms as he presses forward, slowly sinking into you until he's buried to the hilt.
Naoya knows you're a virgin - not only because you're his sister, and he knows you enough to know you wouldn't destroy your honour before marriage - but also because of how fucking tight you're squeezing around him. He's warring with his body, trying to bring himself to go slow, to ease you into it.
But he's selfish. Even when it comes to you. He can't stop himself. He fucks into you roughly, shushing you gently as you make soft, pained noises. He grunts words of praise under his breath - so tight, so good for me, doing so well. Anything he can think of to soothe you.
“Gonna stuff you so full… gonna have you dripping me for weeks.” He groans, bracing himself with his arms either side of your head, holding his weight up as he fucks into you harshly, each thrust making the bed frame creak. The sight of your lips parted makes him feel a little dizzy, the pleasured little gasps spilling from them making his cock twitch. Drool pools on his tongue as he leans over you, and he opens his mouth to let the spit trickle onto your own before he leans down to press his lips against yours. The movement of his hips grows sloppy as he licks into your mouth, tongue exploring you forcefully, like he's attempting to claim every inch of you.
He bites your lip when he pulls back, drawing blood. His gaze is hooded with lust as he fucks into you, tongue darting out to lick the blood clean off your lip. He grins as he straightens back up, his hands grasping your hips as he begins to fuck into you with slow, deep thrusts, grunting as your cunt clings to him every time he starts to pull back.
“Milkin’ me dry, huh? Clenchin’ around your own brother's cock, don't even want me to pull out…” He punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, pulling you back against him. “Gonna cum… gonna fuckin’ cum, shit. Cum first, baby. Wanna feel that cunt grippin’ me before I fill you up.”
It doesn't take much more than that to have you seize up, body tensing as your release rushes over you in waves. He fucks you through it, drawing out your pleasure until he stills inside of you, choking out a moan as he shoots his load deep inside of you. He stays there for a moment, just taking in the feeling of you wrapped around him.
His gaze flutters down to you, and he collapses on top of you with a sigh before flipping the both of you over so you're lying on top of him without pulling out. His arms snake around your waist, your head resting against him.
“Didn't take you for a cuddler.” You tease after a moment, practically going up.
“Shut up. Fuckin’ brat.” He huffs, a hand coming up to the back of your head to press your face into his neck. “S'not cuddlin’. I'm making sure it takes. Gotta keep you plugged, yeah?”
You both know that's not the whole truth, but you say nothing as you settle against him, shutting your eyes as you relax in his arms. You'd deal with whatever this leads to in the morning, but for now, you were content to fall asleep with your brother.
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littlebeluu · 9 months ago
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needy for him
marc guiu × female reader
warnings: smut
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He looked so hot. He looked so hot laying in that couch wearing only a pair of boxers that you couldn't help but clench your thighs. He was used to doing that, walking around the house in underwear, pretending he didn't know it provoked you. You've never been so attracted to anyone like you were towards Marc. His back and arms were huge although his sport didn't involve having a big upper body. But he trained hard, he was probably the most disciplined person you knew. His abs weren't that marked but his v-line was what made you go feral. It made such a good contrast with his small waist that you couldn't help but constantly imagine wrapping your legs around him. But the cherry on top for you was his happy trail. You find it so sexy that you'd actually get mad whenever he shaved it. Your face dropping when you noticed, and him laughing at you for being so dramatic.
And there he sat, on the couch of your apartment where he would sleep at almost every day. His legs spread and his arms outstretched while he watched some old game that he missed due to training. You walked towards him and looked him in the eyes trying to catch his attention. All you ever wanted was his attention. He kept his eyes on the TV as if he didn't know what you wanted. So you softly caressed his huge thighs and proceeded to sit on his lap. God you loved snuggling on top of him, it would make you feel so tiny.
"Love, you know I'm trying to watch the game" he said barely making eye contact with you. You didn't answer. Instead you began to leave wet kisses on his neck while slowly caressing the back of his hair. You felt him sigh and move a little under you. You knew you had him wrapped around your finger. Marc put his hands on your waist and slowly lifted his big hand under your shirt, lovingly brushing your shoulders with his finger tips. He unclasped your bra and then took your shirt and the bra off, leaving you wearing only your blue undies. You started to grind against him, so horny that all you wanted was to soothe all that desire that has been building in your lower tummy. Marc loved when you dry humped him. He knew that it meant you needed him and he loved to feel needed. The whimpers that he left out were making that funny feeling in your pussy even stronger. The wetness on your panties were staining his boxers. You could see the outline of his cock. His tip was out, and his happy trail was glistening due to his pre-cum and your juices. Sexiest sight ever.
"You're going to kill me one of these days baby"
You looked at him lovingly, there was nothing hotter than the words and sounds he left out whenever he was aroused. You pulled his underwear down and grabbed his shaft, slowly stroking him. He was wet from your mixed juices. You bit your lip looking at it and Marc swears he could have cum just from that look. While lifting your hips you drag his tip in between your folds and whine when it brushes your swollen clit. Marc impatiently thrusts his hips and pushes his cock inside you and you both can't help but moan loudly. It feels like you were made for each other. He grabs your hips with the kind of pressure that you know is going to leave marks tomorrow, but you don't care because it hurts so good. He guides your movements while he sucks your tits, sometimes licking and sometimes biting gently. Your clit would constantly brush over his trimmed pubic hair and you knew you were getting closer and closer.
"I can feel you clenching around me, so needy for me. F-fucking gorgeous"
And he was right, you needed him all the time, at all hours, one right move and he'll have you clenching your thighs while looking at him. You could tell he was about to cum too, he would sometimes shut his eyes and his grip on your hips would be even harder while he quietly cussed. You move your hips faster, with one hand holding onto his shoulder and the other resting on his thigh. The pleasure was so intense that you moved forward, pressing your chest against him and screaming loudly, your orgasm always being better than the previous one, your legs shaking while you feel his spurts of cum fill you up so deep. He groans loudly as his hips uncontrollably thrust into you. You loved that he was so vocal while fucking, never saved a sound to himself.
"I love you Marc" You said while looking into his eyes. His eyes were so beautiful. They were sometimes brown and sometimes amber, and they would wrinkle when he smiled. And right now he was smirking while holding eye contact, his forehead and chest sweaty and his breath heavy.
"I love you even more baby"
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hopesangelsprite · 1 year ago
Text
Stress Relief
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Pairing: Battinson x reader
Warnings ⚠️: zero plot whatsoever, pure filth, mating press, overstim, male moaning/whimpering, dubcon maybe (??? Idk), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it bros), creampie obviously, marking if you squint
MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI
Protecting an entire city would take a toll on anyone, so of course some kind of stress relief would be on order. And if that someone was constantly sleep deprived, full of internal conflict, and said city happened to be Gotham... that poor soul had better found a damn good stress reliever.
That's where you come in, pinned underneath your cities' Vengeance for however long he'd keep you there. Night after night, sunrise after sunrise. Tonight was no different than any other except the fact that your broody boy toy had more of an appetite than usual.
Right now, all you can feel is him and all he can feel is you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder just how long he'd felt this way, just how much frustration he harbored within himself. But the drag of his member against your warm walls is enough to dismiss the thought completely.
"Fucking hell.", Bruce breaths into your shoulder at your clenching walls, "You're so good to me.". Butterflies invade your stomach, intertwining themselves with the stir of your orgasm. You're close to coming again for the nth time this session. Just what had he seen on those damp, dark streets tonight.
"Y-you mean it?", you whimper out as if he isn't fucking your brains into the mattress beneath the two of you. He groans and nods feverishly as his hand abandons your tits to grip the headboard that's banging loudly against the wall. "We're gonna be together forever, princess. Won't let anyone hurt you... just me and you.", he promises in that sweet voice of his. The sweetness of his words and the smoothness of his thrusts mingle perfectly enough to send you farther over the edge. You call his name as you continue coming.
And he talks you through it, praising you and whispering the sweetest nothings. He never misses a stroke, thoroughly fucking you through your orgasm and well beyond it. Your walls continue to flutter and your body feels scorching underneath his. The tips of your fingers as well as the palms of your hands buzz, a telltale sign of overstimulation. You mewl at the feeling of another orgasm building already. Then, his pace changes as he begins to lose himself for the first time tonight. This time you're unable to stop him.
"Fuck.", he swears as his hand leaves the headboard and grips the pillow next to your head. Bruce's face falls back into the crook of your neck and he audibly moans. You can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the smell of his leather suit now completely masked by the smell of sex in the air.
His pace quickens and more curses fall from his reddened lips. You mewl and begin to squirm as the overstimulation starts to grow far too much. Though your brains have been thoroughly fucked out, you manage to beg, "P-please... I can't-". You cut yourself off with a loud wanton moan as Bruce's other hand slips between you from your other thigh to press on your lower abdomen. He feels so good inside of you it's unbearable.
Your moans spur him on as he presses a bit harder. "Need... need you to come for me. One more time.", he requests drawing a whine from you. "Can't, 's too much!", you whine as you feel your thighs shake on either side of him. He huffs as he presses again earning pretty sobs of pained pleasure from your puffy lips. "You can, princess, know you can. Said you could take it, didn't you?", he encourages in between pretty moans and you can hear his sanity slowly slipping away. Still, you protest once more.
He growls lowly as his hand dips lower to begin mercilessly toying with your swollen clit. You yelp as you reach between your bodies to weakly tug at his wrist. He's stronger than you so your struggling waxes futile. "Bruce-", you try to reason with him, "Too much!". He quickens his ministrations at your words and you cry out as you feel the familiar knot begin to form in the pit of your stomach.
"Shh shh shh, it's okay... almost there, princess.", he whispers through labored breaths, "I'm almost there.". You want to tell him that you almost are too, but you can't seem to form the proper words. His grip on the pillow tightens, and the movement of his hips becomes jerky.
"Fuck, please I need it so bad... So, so badly.", he moans quietly, almost to himself, "please, please, please..". Hearing him completely lose his composure nearly throws you off the edge. The way he's begging damn near sends you into orbit. "Pretty girl's gonna let me cum inside, right? Please?", he asks and your heart swells with love. Who are you to deny him when he's asking so politely?
You nod as your vision fills with stars, "Yes!". He whimpers into your neck as his frantic thrusts signal his impending release. You begin to squirm harder, and his hand slides from the pillow to grip your hip. His hold on you is strong despite the soft sounds leaving his mouth.
He presses you farther into the mattress, and you're sure you'll have a bruise on your hip the size of his hand tomorrow morning. "Jus' a little bit more..", he trails off to bite at your hickey covered shoulder. "Need to finish, I'll be so f-fucking good to you... be so fuckin' good to my princess, promise.", his words slur together. With that, you come for the umpteenth time and he's not too far behind.
The both of you shudder with overwhelming pleasure, and weak whimpers of each other's names seem to be the only thing either one of you can articulate. Hot, thick ropes of his cum spurt into your spasming walls painting them white and filling you up so much it begins to leak out.
Secretly, you hope Gotham's streets keep sending him back to you even more needy than this.
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vermilionsun · 2 months ago
Note
hellooo, i really love the headcanons u write 4 touchstarved. i totally understand if ur uncomfortable writing about this, so no pressure. but if ur okay with it, i’d be curious to see how the lis (whichever u prefer, but preferably leander or someone with a visible scar ><) would react to an mc with sh scars.
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TW! Implied self–harm [as per the request] Let’s start with the basics; this is not romanticising sh in any way, shape or form—I believe it’s obvious
If anyone ever feels the need to let something out of their chest/venting, or even chit-chat about this and that, my messages are and will remain open <3
And always remember; Seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.
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𝓐𝓲𝓼
✩ He didn't mean to see them. He wasn't trying to look for them.
✩ His eyes widened slightly before narrowing again. The subtle shift in his expression betrayed his thoughts as he debated whether or not to acknowledge what he saw.
✩ "What are those?" Not subtle, not discreet, straight to the point. "How did they happen?" he asked, his tone blunt but oddly caring.
✩ He took a step forward, and then another, standing so close that he could easily reach out and touch them. "Listen, I'm not gonna judge you or anything. I just wanna know…”
✩ He’s worried as fuck
✩ but remains as calm as can be, letting them take their time
✩ He took it upon himself to make sure the scars were healing properly (with what little knowledge he had from helping Kuras)
𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓼
✞ His eyes narrow minutely. He doesn’t show any sign of fear or disgust, and that somehow is even more alarming than it would’ve been if he had. The expression on his face is almost blank.
✞ His tone remains even, betraying nothing of his thoughts or emotions. Something in his stare is just the slightest bit piercing, however. He’s assessing them, studying all of the details of their form and expression. He’s… unnervingly perceptive. He keeps just barely out of arm's reach.
✞ His coat rustles as he gently reaches out, like he’s trying not to startle a small wild animal. A single long, slender finger traces one of the scars. "My. That is serious scarification. How did it happen?" He asks, as if he doesn't already know the answer. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn't want to believe it.
✞ He will push for an answer.
✞ There’s a long, heavy silence. A flicker of understanding clouds his expression. "Why?" The sharp tone melts away, replaced by gentleness.
✞ He lets out a tired sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, all the tension leaving his body. For that moment, the mask of the competent, emotionless doctor falters, and he suddenly looks older, more worn-down, more vulnerable.
✞ "Don't… I've heard the same story far too many times."
𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻
🗡"Hey, what are those from?" His expression remained the same for a brief moment, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, fixated on the scars.
🗡When he noticed the pause, he took a step closer, maintaining a respectful distance. "It's alright. You can tell me."
🗡 As the words left their lips, Leander's expression shifted slightly, reflecting a tinge of surprise and a hint of understanding, though he remained calm. "You..." Leander started, choosing his words carefully. "Did you do this to yourself...?"
🗡The concern in his eyes intensified, and his voice dropped to a soft, gentle murmur. "Are there more?"
🗡 His fingers instinctively reach out—
🗡 He gently drew them into a tight embrace, holding them close against his chest, his body warm and firm against theirs. "Nevermind. You don't have to say a word. I'm here for you."
🗡 "You know, scars aren't all bad. They're reminders that you've survived, that you're stronger than you give yourself credit for…. Just promise me you won't do it again. Those scars... they don't belong on you."
𝓜𝓱𝓲𝓷
🕊 Mhin's demeanor would change the moment they'd spot their scars
🕊 They’d hesitate only momentarily before walking up to them, yanking any fabric away and inspecting them
🕊 "How old are they?" They’d ask, their voice a bit softer compared to their earlier attitude.
🕊 They’re just.. staring at them, the gears in their head clearly turning. Mhin looked quite… shocked, like they’d seen a ghost roaming the streets of Eridia.
🕊 “You did this on purpose,” they concluded. "Were you trying to…?" Their voice is careful, treading on thin ice.
🕊 For once, they ignored their pride and went with something their heart was telling him to do instead of their head; They soaked a cloth in the disinfectant eyes flickering back up to their ace before carefully bringing it to the scars. They worked silently, cleaning the wounds with surprisingly gentle touch before wrapping them in bandages once done.
🕊 “Who drove you to it?”
𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓮
✦ Ỳ̶̡̮̜̙̑̈́͆̄̌̾̈́̔̚͘ͅỏ̸̢̨̖̺̦̫̀͊̏̊͝u̷͚̜̟̟̪͎͙͂́̉̑̌̀̊̔̄̾̌͝r̴̨̞̪̽͋̌͜ ̵̧̡̞̺͔̖̳̱̗͈̩̟͛͋͜ͅͅs̷͈̯͊̀̃́̿̿c̶̨̨̜͈͙͈̱̀̑́̎ą̴̙̞̟̰̙͓̫̽͑r̴̢̢̡̙̭͖̦̝̺̮̄͑̍͛̓͗̂̿̂̿̓̒̈́̕ṣ̵́̈́̉̋̂̏͛̐̂̑͊̾́̕̕.̴̖̤̱͙̀̀ ̴̢̧͇̮͈̥̮̲͈̫̓̄̔̋ͅ
✦ It's unexpected. He is really close to them—too close for comfort. So close that they're able to feel the heat of his breath.
✦ His face is calm, almost emotionless, but there is something like deep thoughtfulness in his eyes and a little bit of irritation that he is clearly trying to conceal. 
✦ "A lot of them..." His voice is quiet, almost a whisper. There's something strange in his tone. "Who did that?" They feel his rough fingers on their skin, his touch not gentle, but not as harsh and cold as they'd expect. He seems tense now, looking at them with a kind of coldness that they hadn't seen from him before.
✦ He suddenly makes a quiet huffing sound, as if he's almost sneering. “What a waste.” He mutters and he finally steps back a little, his gaze still on their scars. “Stupid… What was even the point?” It’s something like a sincere question, that came out without him realizing it.
✦ He’s clearly trying to figure something out, staring them down, observing every muscle, twitch and every subtle movement
✦ “Was it worth it?”
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maximotts · 2 years ago
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i feel like cowboy wanda would be so gentle the first few times she has sex with you bc she’s worried she’ll hurt you and scare you off but eventually she loses control a bit and manhandles you into position and when she pins you down, you moan and then the most DEVILISH smile spreads across her face
Ooo okay okay it's interesting you brought this up because I've been thinking about their first encounter a bit lately! We'll ignore that this turned into a whole fic, okay? I love them sm Also this isn't really edited because it was supposed to be a short answer and now it's uhm.. not short, so forgive any typos
18+ only please . wc: 2.7k . cw: first meeting hookup, drinking, dirty talk, oral, fingering, v light spanking, lap sits, possessiveness, Wanda being smitten, the pickup truck sex a lot of y'all have been asking me about that I said was coming, morning after with Wanda because she's as proper as she is filthy
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Basically right now I have their first time more as a hookup where bunny is new to town and goes out to a bar one night to maybe make friends and see the environment, but then she meets Wanda and her group of friends who are all more than welcoming and you're having a great time hanging out with them.
But your eyes keep drifting to Wanda. Of course Wanda notices and, being the smooth talker she is, starts flirting with the new girl. She buys you as many drinks as you want which, end up being stronger than you're used to, but your nerves keep you ordering more. When she finally slips an arm around you, cornering you in the booth you'd only just plopped yourself into, you're more than ready for Wanda to kiss you— and kiss you she does.
You're shy by nature, never having made out with anyone in a bar, much less with a girl you'd only known for a few hours, but Wanda's thumb brushing over your cheek while she bites down on your bottom lip has you forgetting everything you're used to which admittedly, isn't much. Somehow she's pulled your thighs over her own, toying with the stretchy hem of the form-fitting skirt you'd decided to wear last minute. When she touches a particularly sensitive spot, you shiver and Wanda chuckles, "You cold, darlin'? Pretty as your arms are, I'll let you borrow my jacket if it'd help."
And so the night goes on with Wanda's thick denim jacket slung over your shoulders, her arm around your waist wherever the two of you walk. Normally you'd hate the presumptive way the cowgirl was handling you, as if she owned you already, but you'd be damned if you didn't admit you wanted her to stake her claim. So, in your slightly inebriated state, you took a leap, "Wands, I'm sleepy..."
Which catches her attention immediately. "Well now," Wanda pulls you close then, fingers carefully treading the line between caressing your hip and groping your ass; it would be the first time she whispers in your ear, but it'll never stop being insanely hot. "I hope you're telling me because you're going to let me take you home. I'd be real sad leaving tonight without you."
You wish your giggle of a reply didn't sound so girlish and naïve, but in hindsight, you had no idea the sheer intensity you were in for. "Only if you promise to behave yourself."
She's driven about halfway back to her house before she has to pull over; technically it was her land, pulled over to the side of the winding road and turning her truck engine off. "I know I promised to take you home, I still will, but I can't take another second not having my hands on you."
It takes you back a little; all you'd been doing was scratching over her jeans while you stared at the woman driving, but you weren't going to argue with her. "I don't really-"
"I've wanted you on my lap since I laid eyes on you. Get over here." Thankfully she doesn't have to convince you any farther, holding back a groan as you straddled her legs, skirt riding up inch by inch. It was a tight squeeze with you between her and the steering wheel, but Wanda hardly noticed once you started kissing her. This time was impossibly hotter, Wanda's tongue taking control of the kiss before moving on to shamelessly leave marks along your jaw and neck.
And Wanda is too good at getting your clothes out of the way, leaving you topless with record speed, squeezing at your breasts roughly while you struggled just to keep up with her mouth. "What if someone sees..."
The brunette only starts toying with your nipples, relishing in the way it got you rolling your hips. "It's pitch dark, silly girl. I can barely see you out here, don't worry your pretty little head."
You lost the last bit of your restraint the moment Wanda passed her fingertips over your underwear. They were thin lace, chosen by design so as not to show under your skirt, but they drove Wanda wild. She pushed them aside to slide her fingers along where you were already warm and sensitive, hips stuttering as she stroked over your clit. "O-Oh.."
"Look at you, already wet and needy. Were you like this all night? That why I caught you squeezing your thighs together so often?" You shook your head, trying to deny it, but you weren't even fooling yourself.
Wanda's had you rocking in place for hours by this point; you thought sure you'd been subtle and being called out for your behavior found your head ducking into the crook of Wanda's shoulder to avoid her knowing gaze. "Aww, it's okay! It'll be our little secret, promise..."
Wanda discovered night one what a responsive person you were, delighting in the vice grip you held on the back of her seat while she rolled your nipple in time with her other hand on your sensitive bud. You rocked against her hands as best you could, fighting to keep pace, but hopefully not finish so easily— it'd just been so long and you needed this much more than expected.
The next morning, you'd blame the alcohol. "Wanda please, I- I need.."
"What do you need, sweetheart, wanna cum? Make a mess in my truck after I barely got started with you?" You were nodding so hard your neck hurt, moaning quietly as you felt your body reach its peak; the first of many that night. Ears ringing and thoughts so pleasantly fuzzy, you couldn't recall a time you'd felt more free, in an old pickup truck or otherwise.
"Ooh, aren't you just a masterpiece..." The brunette took her time letting you down, pointer and middle fingers wandering until they just barely pushed into you: less than an inch, but unendingly torturous. "Sounds like I was able to make you feel better, least a little bit."
Tired hips tried every which way to sink onto Wanda's long fingers, the same ones you'd felt on you over your clothes back in the bar and had lists of naughty places you wanted her to put them. But each time, your lover avoids delving anywhere past shallow. "You're being mean, just fuck me."
"Mean? After I let you cum as early as you wanted? You don't know what mean looks like on me. Don't think you want to," A succession of wet slaps echoed in the truck's cabin, the silence of everything around you both amplifying the sound of Wanda lightly hitting your sensitive cunt and your resulting whimpers.
"Told you so. Now, bend over and stay still while I get a proper look like the obedient girl I know you are," Manhandling you over the length of her seats shouldn't have been as easy as it was after the long night out, but Wanda was strong and you never fought her while she pushed your arms to the passenger car door and spread your bent knees apart.
If you were begging her to fuck you out loud, you wouldn't be surprised, wishing so hard that if Wanda still refused to give you exactly what you wanted, she'd at least use her fingers, tongue, anything to fill where you currently felt so empty. "Please- I need more-"
Your thighs shake as she licks over your puffy folds, mumbling the most depraved things about you, your taste, your warmth, leaving you with the most intoxicating combination of feeling both used and adored. "You just keep dripping into my mouth, baby, it's impossible to keep you clean..."
"Can't help it, sorry," But your words aren't matching your actions, not when you kept searching out Wanda's tongue each time she flicked at your clit, pitifully rolling over the rough surface whenever she flattened it out.
You'd long since fogged up the windows, smudging the fog as your overheated cheek met the cold glass; each time you managed to open your eyes you remember exactly where you are, woods rustling in the middle of the night. "W-Wanda! 'm close again, please please...!"
"Mean girls wouldn't let you have two orgasms back to back, no matter how pretty." Wanda likes to believe she actually thought about whether or not to give you what you wanted, but in reality she knew she would leave you wanting the second you turned bratty. Sure it was a risk, not knowing how you'd react, but it was well worth the test to see if you had a chance of handling her past a quick night's distraction. "Straighten up, we're only a few minutes from home."
"That's not fair—"
But Wanda was already pushing you upright again, haphazardly fixing your dress, going so far as to buckle your seatbelt as if it'd keep you from your uncomfortable wiggling. "My car my rules! Like I said, we're not far."
Wanda expected you to pout and huff the whole way, worried in the back of her mind you wouldn't let her lay another hand on you after her denial, but she was pleasantly surprised. Somewhere shortly after she pulled back onto the road, you'd taken her hand; first just to play with her fingers, innocent fidgeting at best, but before she knew it, her digits were engulfed in sinfully wet warmth.
Her fingers in your mouth made the pair of you dizzy, hands holding her wrist as you pumped her digits in and out, tongue swirling over the tips and grinning once Wanda's neutral expression cracked, lips parting in a low groan. "Do mean girls let the good ones suck the strap they've been feeling near them all night or do they only get to play with their hands?"
"Depends on if they show them how bad they want it." Wanda could only look your way for seconds at a time, the visual of your half-lidded gaze trained on her jeans while you so obviously used your imagination to envision some other scenario, muffling your own needy sounds as you forced her fingers to the back of your throat... she'd underestimated the new girl.
Whether it was any lingering alcohol talking or whatever boldness Wanda unlocked that night, something urged you to continue goading her, making a show of spreading your legs and slipping her wet fingers to your sex before closing them once more, slowly grinding her shaking digits to sate yourself for that last tiny stretch of road to the farmhouse. "Bad enough to turn your hand into a toy for as long as you let me."
Wanda made that final turn up her driveway, parking her truck fast as she could with only one hand, "You're lucky I didn't crash just now, you little devil, can't wait to get you inside."
"Lead the way, since we're playing by your rules and all." As soon as she got her hand back, Wanda practically dragged you from her vehicle and for as many hours as you spent awake in her home, you couldn't remember a single detail of any room she brought you through that night.
When you wake up, it's to a dimly lit bedroom, curtains drawn so only a sliver of late morning sun peeked through. Your body ached, but it wasn't from the drinking, taut muscles and lethargic thoughts bringing back bits and pieces of everything you got up to the second Wanda got you past the front door.
The same Wanda whose bed you assumed you were currently sprawled out in. Doubt crept in as you realized you're alone, fretting over if you should've fallen asleep there or not. You were deciding whether it'd be more awkward to sneak out and go back to town on foot or to search out Wanda and ask if she'd mind driving you back to your place when you heard a single knock on the door. "Can I come in?"
Your brow furrowed, "It's your room, of course you can come in." Wanda cracked the door slowly, the back of her loose flannel shirt greeting you first before she turned around, a small tray in her hands. "Sorry for crashing."
"Never said you were unwelcome, I'm sorry for letting you wake up in a strange place by yourself... and for not leaving you at least a shirt, my bad." Your arms hastily bundled the blankets to cover your chest, your nakedness pointed out to you, but Wanda laughed, setting the tray down before heading for her dresser. "Don't worry, darlin, I love the view just as much in the daylight."
"What a reassuring hostess I have," Pulling the t-shirt she tossed you over your head, the delightful scents coming from the tray down the bed now catching your attention. On it was a short stack of pancakes, bacon, orange juice, strawberries... the biggest breakfast you'd seen since you'd come to town. "Did you make that?"
Wanda nodded and slid the food closer to you before sitting on the edge of her mattress, "I don't typically make this much food, but I had to get up early to make some rounds in the barn and I figured I owed you a hearty breakfast after such a nice night."
There was something so endearing to how she explained her actions, rambling on to offset her nerves, No one had even gone to such lengths to make your morning so comfortable after a single hookup, but this set the bar high for anyone else who tried. Not that you'd ever have to worry about another first night, but neither of you knew that yet.
For now Wanda scrambled to find the right way to show genuine interest in the girl she'd brought home and fucked every which way until they passed out and you amusedly ate your special pancakes while watching Wanda try, her fumbling charming you more than she'd ever imagine.
Eventually you put her out of her misery, putting down your utensils to sit up on your knees and stretch over to plant a quick kiss on her soft lips. "I really appreciate it and I'm not even a bit mad with how I woke up, but it's very sweet of you to care, Wands."
"Oh good because I'd really like to see you again sometime, if you're up for it." It would be a rare thing to see Wanda so continuously shy, but she was uncharacteristically smitten and she wanted to get to know you before the rest of the small town came for their changes too.
You hummed as you popped a strawberry into your mouth, licking your fingers in a way that painfully reminded Wanda of the previous night, "How's today?"
"Today?" The farmgirl ran a hand through her long hair, cocking her head to the side much like a lost puppy.
"Yeah, today. If you wouldn't mind me following along." With each minute that ticked past, the less you wanted to leave, much preferring a Sunday spent with Wanda than in your flat full of moving boxes.
Her eyes lit up, smile brighter than the sun, “Can’t complain about a beautiful girl all to myself all day!" Wanda was practically buzzing with everything she wanted to show you, from the chicken coops to the haylofts, but she forced herself to keep her cool.. on the surface at least. "Finish up breakfast and I'll find you some kind of pants."
"But I'm so cozy right here without them." Maneuvering over the last bits of food on your plate meant you more fell into Wanda's lap than sat on it, but she caught you nonetheless, tugging you down for the proper kiss she'd been waiting to share with you since early morning light. "Come back to bed with me?"
After the long sleep your energy was renewed, finally able to take Wanda into all your senses again, the taste of her lips, the subtle earthy smell from the work she'd already done that day, her strong hands settling confidently on your upper thighs... getting dressed was the last thing on either of your minds. "Wouldn't be much of a hostess if I didn't let my guest do as she pleased."
In the end, the pair of you might've set the world record for longest date from Sunday morning to when Wanda finally dropped a reluctant you back into town Wednesday afternoon.
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mixtape-0325 · 1 year ago
Text
Fear the Living
Stray Kids; Lee Know x Female Reader (21+)
Word count: 2.4k
Content: HardDom!Lee Know, Sub!Reader, cheesy halloween flirting at a party, small mention of alcohol and smoking, ghostface mask & black gloves, exhibitionism, hair-pulling, p in v sex, anal sex, squirting.
Warning: this story features reader never knowing 100% sure if her partner is actually the one doing this to her.
💌: Happy Halloween everyone 🖤🕸️
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You turned around to hit the man with the mask forcefully against the chest. You couldn't imagine anyone would even think it was okay to frighten you by grabbing you... before you realised who it really was.
"You scared me!"
Your words were almost unintelligible through the music dancing all around you. His mask was removed, hair slightly messy with even fake cuts all over his skin underneath the ghostface costume. He looked back at you surprised at first, strong brown eyes wide open, before he closed the space between you to grab your waist. Minho pulled you against his figure, fingernails pressed into the fabric of your skirt.
"It's Halloween! You're supposed to get scared! Besides, I"m sure you weren't!", he shouted before pressing his tongue against his cheek, eyeing you up and down. You watched his little movements ever so closely, curious as to why he would think so.
"I know you're into that sorta thing!"
A playful gasp left you mouth at his words in public, even though you were as aware as him that anyone at this party was too drunk to even care about you and your boyfriend flirting, let alone with the music playing at an ungodly loudness.
"You're late!"
You pushed against his shoulder in response, playing the act perfectly to the point he was starting to question if you were actually upset with him.
"I had to take care of some things!"
"What are you, an actual murderer? You're just trying to scare me!"
The second push almost caused his hands to detach from your waist completely, quite the opposite of what you were craving. But as if he knew, instead of letting you go, Minho pulled you back against him much stronger, not even leaving any room for you to move along with rest of the crowd. His face inched closer to yours, lips hovering over the shell of your ear where his warm breath tickled your skin.
"Listen here baby, play up a little game again and i'll be sure to take care of you next."
One of Minho's hands let itself slide to your ass, grabbing the flesh desperately. Involuntarily movements of your body pressed you against his crotch with ever grab. You gulped in response to your body, throbbing ensuing between your legs that you hadn't yet experienced so fast.
Sure, Minho had teased you before and put you into your place when you were overly confident in trying to dominate him. But, he never even dared to say these things outside the four walls of your bedroom.
"Oh yeah? Bet you won't dare to lay a finger on me. You can't even handle upsetting me."
You were really pushing his buttons, playing into his insecurities, but his body language seamed to not even be phased this time. Instead, you could feel his bulge start to press against you, only fuelling the arousal between your own thighs more. It was worse knowing that there was so little fabric keeping you two apart, a thin short layer of a skirt and black lace panties all that he had to remove.
Minho faced you again, eyes large and teeth playing with his plump bottom lip. His gloved black hand made its way up towards your chin, holding you between his fingers
"Go home, pretty girl. I don't want you getting hurt tonight."
His fingers danced over your lips, causing a deep hum to surface from within him that somehow got through the barrier of the next song.
"Afterall, it's not the dead you should fear."
You rolled you eyes at him, but Minho inched closer to your lips, your eyes almost fully closed, the corners of your mouth turning into a smile. You could almost taste him, almost bite his lip just a little harder than he did himself. You could almost hear him hum again, your mind soon switching to the noises he'd make when he's inside of you.
But before you could seal the kiss, he backed up to place his mask over his face again. The rough edges of the face in just white and black, eyes so dark you could not even see his hint of brown anymore, his lips hidden equally hidden out of sight.
Minho backed up further until he turned and walked away, leaving you between the countless other masked and dressed up people jumping and screaming along to the music.
You didn't see him for a while, which was okay knowing his friends were here likewise to yours. You didn't have to cling to each other the entire night, as long as you were both getting home again safely together.
However, after a while of hanging out with your friends anxiety grew in your stomach that left you feeling rather down about continuing to dance and sing carelessly.
Is he okay? Enjoying himself? Did he perhaps really not like the teasing? He teased more more than you did, right?
Your mind was starting to race, and something just did not feel right anymore. You told your friends you'd get them more drinks at the other side of the room, which was quite a walk in a normally abandoned mall. You turned a few corners near the small halloween maze and got to a quieter era where some were smoking or making out.
Minho wasn't here either, but the realization that you hadn't seen even a glimpse of him anymore since a few hours ago made you uneasy. Afterall, you weren't exactly in the safest neighborhood.
You continued looking for him, the base of the music somehow sounding much louder even though you were moving further away from it. The sound pressed against your head and you started to panic, frustrated with your own stupidity of thinking going to a party without a phone was even remotely smart, just for the sake of wearing the shortest skirt you owned.
When you turned another corner, you reached what seemed more like an empty office space. Some desks and chairs were pushed in the corner, pieces of electronics shattered on the floor. It was darker than in the other rooms, a mere lightbulp much too little to fill up this space on its own.
"Look who found me"
A voice from behind you made you eager to turn around, no longer strong enough to hide the smile on your face as you saw a dark figure leaning against the doorframe with a costume much familiar to you.
"You completely disappeared! I got worried"
You walked towards him, soon being greeted by a familiar glove tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, causing the tip of the shell to glow in heat.
You hummed in response, pressing your cheek against the warmth of his hand. Instead of playing with your lips like you expected, his hand moved down to your neck, goosebumps forming onto your skin as one digit moved across your neck with delicacy.
"What are you hiding for baby? Want you to kiss me...", you spoke softly as a familiar pulsing of your core spread its way throughout your body in a rush of need to be close to your boyfriend.
Your hand reached over to his mask, wanting to reveal him yourself only to pull him into a deep kiss of need seconds later. But a loud thud of his hand grabbing your bare wrists stopped you in your tracks, his body soon pressed against you until you hit the wall on the side. You gasped as your back hit the concrete with just a bit too much force, the coldness of the space equally freezing up your spine.
"Minho, what are you doing?"
Your worries were quickly shushed by a warm hand slipping under your skirt, caressing your hips and hooking under your panties to pull them to the ground. You were filled with lust so easily when it came to him, and his mask somehow made the thrill of his want for you so much hotter.
He wasn't gentle with you at all, his own lust taking over in fast attempts to rid you of your clothes. The room was filled with heavy breaths, gasps and giggles from you as he even used his own hand to rip your shirt from you, only to have your breasts on perfect view for him.
A strong tug towards him and away from the wall only increased your arousal as you could finally feel him better, the way he was hard underneath the fabric, how he wanted you just as desperately as you did him.
He turned you around with force, both palms of your hands landing against the icy wall instead. You held yourself somewhat stable as rustling ensued behind you. You bit your lip in anticipation, a drop of arousal leaking down your inner thigh.
"Minho, want to hear you..."
You were aching to hear his voice, calling you all the names in the book like he always did when he'd get into rough moods. You figured this would be no different, especially seeing as he had no issue teasing you in public just hours ago.
Instead your request was ignored, and the fabric around his fingers pressed to your core, collecting your arousal onto his glove. Only seconds later you felt him press against your core, pushing himself past your entrance. You hummed in pleasure at the slight stretch, that seemed somehow even bigger after a week without the two of you having sex.
He was equally as harsh as he was to undress you, leaving you almost no time to adjust to his size beford thrusting himself into you repeatedly. Whilst it hurt at first, knowing the excitement and need he had for you, was too thrilling to tell him to slow down.
Instead of breaths and gasps, the room filled with your moans to every rough thrusts of his hips. You felt so bare, so exposed and conscious of the party just a couple of steps away, but you needed to feel full so badly. It was all you could think about tonight after seeing Minho in this costume, the sight rather hot.
When his hand moved to the front to rub your clit in sync with his hips your legs were starting to give out. They shook between you, causing him to hold onto you even tighter. You were sure of the bruises to be found later, but instead of worrying about it, it only made you clench even harder on him. It was music to your eyes when you finally heard some deep grunts coming from him, but with the focus on your clit your moans still exceeded his.
"Gonna cum, don't stop, please"
He continued to rub your clit in perfect circles, his thrusts slightly slower but much harsher. His other hand disappeared into your hair, wrapping the strands around his wrist before pulling your back up to his chest. Out of habit you turned over your shoulder in an attempt to see him and kiss him, but all you were faced with was the mask staring back at you.
He continued his grip on your hair, making the slight pain of his tugs only add to your pleasure.
"Cum inside me, please"
You felt dirty saying these words out loud in a space like this, even with everything going on already. You didn't want him to stop, you wanted him completely. You needed him to make you feel full for longer.
With a harsher method on your clit in turn with another rare groan of his because he was getting close himself, you couldn't hold back much longer. As soon as his thrust got sloppy but somehow stinged much more, he came inside of you with a load that made you feel even naughtier for doing this outside of your own house.
You could feel the warmth inside of you so well, making your own orgasm wash over your body completely. It was hard to continue standing the way you were, legs giving out almost completely. But it made your release even more powerful in return, your core spilling arousal all over his costume, gushing from the intense thrill of it all.
He had to hold you tight, and neither did his hands get any gentler like you were used to. He bend you over again easily, your body too exhausted to even go against his wishes. His glove played with the wetness that had landed on your thighs and was still slightly dipping from your core, spreading it over your rim as a form of lube.
Your mind went cloudy, still in a haze from your orgasm as you felt the tip of his half-hard cock press against you from behind.
"Minho..."
You couldn't say much else, letting him thrust as deep as you practised with him, a few inches of his now hard cock pushing passed your rim. He used your body so eagerly, wet messy sounds of his thrusts filling the space. He completely let himself go, chasing his second orgasm of the night from merely how hot he found the idea of filling each hole you had to offer, for you to let him fill you over and over. Everywhere at least once.
"Too much...please"
He was seconds away from his release, and your voice only making him reach his goal faster. With one last thrust and his own legs now shaking, a second orgasm took over every nerve in his body. Only a few drops of cum spilled inside of you, but still the thought of having his cum inside both of your holes had you feeling dizzy all over again.
He gently turned you around, your body falling into his arms as you embraced each other for a little while. Heavy breaths slowed, and slowed, until there was only silence left.
You wanted to kiss him, especially now. There were no needs left but those of having his lips on yours. But he refused to let you go just yet, holding you close to him in the most gentle way he knew, just for a little longer.
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akoyaxs · 1 year ago
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˚༄ Tìwäsul
✮ Meaning: competition ✮ Requested by: ⛄️ and 🪐 ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!metkayina!warrior reader ✮ Warnings: rivals, smutty smut, fluff, p in v, Aonung is a munch, pining ✮ Word Count: 10.3k
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It first happened when you were kids. The first time that stupid skxawng beat you, and it never seemed to end. You knew you were just as talented, just as ferocious, just as determined, but he was always just larger and stronger. It probably also helped that he would be Olo'eyktan.
So year after year, after every fight, every hunt, every trial, you would always be second. Silver. Sure, you could smash down every other  warrior. Sure, you could outrun and outswim and even outrank any other person in the clan, but there would always be him. Aonung.
He was, in fact, a complete and utter idiot. He was all big and perfect and beloved by the clan, despite all his flaws. Because those flaws seemed perfectly obvious to you, his competition, but everyone else just fawned over his big muscles and pretty blue eyes and you were determined to never do so.
He was cocky. He was a player. He had more muscles in his arms than braincells in his head. He was condescending and entitled and just somehow managed to get away with everything.
So you were determined to be the person to call him out. If everyone was going to baby him and feed his practically obese ego, you would try to keep him in check.
You wouldn't fawn and fall at his feet. Every word you spoke to him was twice as harsh as to others. Every blow you delivered in training was harder than the last, and certainly harder than anyone else would dare to hit the precious little prince. Every look you sent him clearly showed your distaste that he, somehow, always was above you.
And he seemed to get it. As you got older, he became less dickish towards you. By the time you finished your iknimaya, he had congratulated you. By the time the Sully's came to the reef, if you called him out on his taunting, he'd pull his head back in.
You, of course, had no idea why. Everyone else did though. The way Aonung would only do as you say was perfectly obvious to everyone else. Ronal and Tonowari had figured it out early, that their son hardly listened to them, so they managed to sneak you into it when they wanted him to do something.
And Aonung tried to get over it. That's why he spent his days training hard, trying to beat away and sweat out all his ceaseless thoughts of you. Thoughts that mortify him, thoughts that you would murder him over.
That's why he spends his nights with a new girl every time, on the beach, in the water, on the woven floor of marui's, trying to fuck his desires for you out into another girl.
He can't help it- the way he imagines it's always you. You squirming as he lays with his head nestled between your shaking thighs, holding you down and drawing desperate moans out of your mouth so usually full of quips and snarls. 
You on your knees in front of him, the same eyes that glare when you look at him now filled with tears as you take him far into your throat, your soft lips brushing over his hard length.
Imagining you're the one under him, riding him, bent over in front of him, the curve of your ass and the softness of your tits on complete display for him.
Fuck.
It was bad. It was really fucking bad.
You were his second in command, you were his biggest competition. What used to be a childish crush was rapidly growing into a mature, dangerous obsession. 
What he wouldn't give to have you as his, to be yours... 
You, of course, on the other hand, are completely oblivious to his infatuation with you. For years, you've written off the way he treats you differently as simply part of the game, part of the competition the two of you have entertained for so long.
You have no idea of the blunt lust and deep affection he harbours for you, and you're certainly oblivious to his efforts to get closer to you. The first could have been anything, and it never would have occurred to you that it was courting.
In the years since your iknimaya, the rivalry between the two of you had fizzled slightly. You could accept his outranking you- he, at least, was worth the top position.
So you followed his orders with 60% obedience and managed to build a courteous, polite relationship with him. You were not quite friends, yet you both respected the other, and managed to share a good conversation every now and then.
Which is why it seemed so shocking that he was suddenly starting to compete with you again. He, of course, isn't doing anything of the sort, but you think he's falling back into the old rivalry.
It all started with the summer hunt. 
Really, it was your fault. You let yourself get overconfident, sure that the huge fish you had speared through the heart would be the largest catch of the clan, and you had been pleased with yourself and returned to the village.
There was much admiration and praise for your amazing catch, everyone congratulating you until suddenly it all stopped. You weren't an attention seeker at all, but you couldn't help feeling irritated that something was suddenly so important.
Which, of course, has to be Aonung. 
He's striding towards you, his large, muscular arms straining under the weight of the fish he's holding. It's fucking massive, completely putting your batch to shame, with shimmery scales and terrifying spikes all along it's back and fins and mouth and tail.
Almost instantly, everyone that had been congratulating you practically pounces onto him, gushing over their precious little prince and his unimaginable talents, his incredible strength, his impossible bravery yadayadayada.
You, on the other hand, just stay back, arms folded and a scowl fixed onto your face. You aren't bitter he did better than you (well maybe a little but that wasn't the point). After thinking you both got over this competition on at least surface level, here he was, bringing his haul over to you to completely undermine your efforts. To show, once again, he beat you.
But as everyone fawned all over him, he just continues to walk to you, returning a smile every now and then but staying in silence as he approaches. His bright blue eyes are fixed into yours the whole time.
He doesn't look cocky; there's a strange glint in those ocean eyes that you can't interpret. He's doing something, you can obviously tell at least that, trying to prove himself in some way. 
And of course, your competitive, fierce mind jumps straight into the past. You can't believe he's doing this now, making you look ridiculous and small and undermining you with his amazing catch.
He finally reaches your woven basket, in which your now seemingly tiny fish lies. You fold your arms and stare blankly up at him, not bothering to hide your annoyance.
"Hey," he smiles, shifting the fish in his arms so he can see you better.
"Hey," you reply slightly coldly, raising your brows slightly and watching him.
He was attractive, you can admit that. Not just in a pretty way, he was so pretty it had every girl falling at his feet, and he was always happy to offer his time to them. It was something in that white shiny smile and bright blue eyes, maybe something to do with that air of slight mischief and danger that lingered around him.
It also could be his body. That was good too. All muscular and giant and taller than anyone else in the clan, even Tonowari. He moved with confidence and slight cockiness, the curve of his broad shoulders rolling gracefully when he moved. It was something to do with the sharpness of his collarbones and jawline, or the way his lashes curled so gently. Or just his body, the slight X shape to his ribcage, his stomach toned and muscly just like the rest of him, tapering into a slim waist.
“Good catch,” Aonung says, nodding down at your basket that looks ridiculous beside his.
You squint at him, is he making fun of you? But he looks genuinely sincere, and also nervous. Aonung, the prince of the clan, the most confident even cocky person you know, is standing slightly awkwardly in front of you, looking nervous.
You aren’t sure if it’s your face- your glare does tend to have a terrifying effect on people, but you decide you’ve glared at him and he’s never looked this nervous around you before. In fact, you’ve never even seen him be nervous ever. Not at any fight or hunt or even at his iknimaya.
That only makes you more annoyed.
“Yours is better,” you reply bluntly. It’s an obvious fact, and Aonung smiles slightly.
“Thank you,” he grins. “I went outside the reef to three brothers rock-”
“Isn’t that a bit far,” you ask sceptically. “And a little dangerous?”
You go to hunt at three brothers rock every few days, but what was this skxawng playing at, going to such extreme lengths to beat you.
“I wanted to bring something good back,” he shrugs.
You scowl a little deeper. The other clan members that had been offering their congratulations were now dispersing. Sure, your arguments with Aonung were known to be a great source of entertainment for the clan, almost as much as the actual warrior fights, but they also knew better than to overstay their welcome when it came to the two highest ranking warriors in the clan. And this is where this is heading, an argument
Really, you had slackened in your insults and keeping Aonung in line over the last few years, the competition between the two of you dying out slowly let you let him off the hook. He had used his new freedom to fuck around with his friends and girls and you had put your efforts into training and proving yourself.
“What are you trying to do Aonung,” you sigh, sharpening your knife to carve the fish.
“What do you mean?” He asks, sounding confused.
“You’ve never gone hunting beyond the reef except when you’re trying to prove a point,” you say bluntly, not looking up from sharpening your knife. “Like when you nearly got Lo’ak killed when we were kids. So what point are you trying to prove?”
When he doesn’t say anything, just staring down at you, you put your knife down with a small snarl and glare up at him.
But before you can say anything, the next wave of villagers walks past, and they bustle around Aonung to marvel at his incredible hunting skills and unbelievable daring and oh my god you’re just strong! And Aonung just doesn’t seem to care. He usually is aloof and cocky, but he enjoys praise and ass kissing. The new crowd blocks you from his view, and you shift slightly to keep it that way, while you can take another look at him. He looks like he’s trying to find you, craning his neck and ignoring all the praises and flirtings thrown at his fucking feet. His brows are furrowed, and he looks torn between confusion and slight upset that you’ve suddenly disappeared.
Stupid skxawng.
You sigh, gaze flicking to the basket of your smaller fish lying ignored and abandoned beside the group clamouring over Aonung’s massive, incredible one, and sigh.
You leave it there and slip back through the crowd and into your marui.
Tsireya’s waiting there for you, your best friend lying in your bed, admiring something. Her ears flick up when you enter, quickly noticing your annoyance in your huffy silence and agitatedly flicking tail.
“Hey beautiful,” Tsireya grins. “What’s got your tail in a knot?"
“I’ll tell you who,” you say hotly, stripping off your gear from hunting and tossing it angrily into the corner. “Some stupid, infuriating, competitive-”
“Right,” Tsireya rolls her eyes. “What has Aonung done now? I thought you guys were fine now.”
“I thought so too,” you growl, setting your knife down aggressively. “But noooo, apparently now he has to one up me and hunt the biggest fish in my fishing territory. You know, I don’t know why he’s being so competitive.”
“It’s a bit hypocritical of you to be calling anyone competitive,” your best friend comments, raising her brows at you. When you glare at her, she holds her hands up. “I was just saying, don’t get mad at me.”
You just huff a sigh and flop down onto your woven bed, laying your head in her lap.
“You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” Tsireya says, sounding amused.
“What do you mean, what’s going on?” you snap. “I just know that your brother is trying to beat me, or prove something-”
Tsireya laughs incredulously, and when you lift your head to frown at her, she stifles her giggle and puts on a straight face.
“This is beautiful,” she gestures to what she’d been studying before.
You have half a mind to object to her subject change. But then again, Tsireya had heard you rant about her brother so many times, she’d probably memorised it by now. And you weren’t bothered to spend any more time thinking about him, otherwise you’d get pissed and unproductive.
“Yes,” you smile fondly, taking the top from her. It was beautifully woven, a piece that you had been working on for a while for the hunt festival, beading intricately with gems and shells and seaglass you had collected yourself. It was something you adored, something beautiful and yours, that you could admire as your hard work.
“Well, come and see what I have prepared,” Tsireya grins.
“I don’t want to run into Aonung at your marui,” you sigh.
“Oh, you won’t,” Tsireya rolls her eyes. “My brother’s out preparing for you- um, for something?”
“Probably the festival,” you grumble under your breath. “Where he’ll steal my last respect and status.”
But you follow your best friend out along the village to her marui. The sun was nearly set now, a deep, rich periwinkle colour over the sparkling, still ocean. You wished you could go for a swim, maybe even a hunt right now, but you need to help prepare for the festival tomorrow night. That was who you were, reliable and determined to do anything to prove yourself, helping wherever you can.
Tonowari, Ronal, Tsireya and Aonung lived in the largest marui in the village, obviously. They had the one in the centre, a huge, beautifully woven marui with partings for rooms. You had your own marui now, with a single room, a sleeping mat, a small kitchen, and a shelf for your memories and keepsakes. It wasn’t exactly tiny, given your high status, but as you lived alone you weren’t assigned a larger, nicer marui, and you had no need for one either.
But sometimes you felt a little bitter as you looked across the village to your favourite marui. It had just been recently woven, in the perfect spot at the edge of the beach and over the shallows of the water, the perfect place to fish right off the walkway. It had plenty of room for weapons and collectibles, and a curtain for privacy woven of palm leaves and strung with beautiful shells hung in the entrance, shielding the interior for you.
Oh, how you longed to have that marui. Problem was, there was a reason why it was so beautiful. It was for the next clan leader- Aonung and his future mate.
You sneak a glance at it before you follow Tsireya into her family’s marui. You greet Ronal and Tonowari who greet you happily, exchanging some conversation about the festival and the hunt. As you finish your chat and go towards Tsireya’s room, something catches your eye from another doorway.
You aren’t a snooper. You aren’t a lurker or someone who wallows in other people’s business. You certainly never cared about Aonung’s business. But you can’t help your curiosity, and after noticing Aonung isn’t in his room and hearing Tsireya rustle about in her room to get her top, you quickly slip your head in to see.
Eywa. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Sitting neatly on his bed, amidst several loose beads and string, is the more intricate, gorgeous top you’ve ever seen. Just like the hunt, it puts your top to complete shame.
Each bead sparkles in the light, colourful and happy and beautiful just like the stars shining bright above you. You can’t help feeling impressed, though you’re still frowning. Tentatively, you reach out and lightly trace the top.
It’s so smooth and cool beneath your fingers, and you can already see that it would settle perfectly when worn, showing the perfect amount of skin and delicately covering you at the same time.
Everyone weaves new tops for the festivals, and men often do too to gift to others. Aonung was going to beat you, once again. There was no doubt about it, this top was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
And then you’re suddenly upset, and it’s hitting you that once fucking again he’s won and you’ve lost and it’s all just shit and you’re backing out of Aonung’s room. You’re backing out of the marui, and you’re headed straight for your own home. Flopping into your bed, you just lie in still silence, staring blankly up and scowling.
That night is filled with annoying restlessness. You don’t attend the preparations for the festival held the night after the hunt, resigning yourself that you’ll just figure it all out at the festivities tomorrow. You had, once again, been proved completely inferior to Aonung, and when you woke up the next day and prepared for training, you were determined to not let it happen again.
You made your way over to the training grounds early, figuring maybe you could get in some practise before everyone else arrived and you were once again Aonung’s second in command, but as you gathered some spears and walked over, there was a familiar figure standing there.
“Hey,” Aonung calls when he sees you arriving. “Where did you go yesterday; I didn’t see you after the hunt?”
“I was tired,” you say coolly, tying your hair back.
“Right,” Aonung says, brow furrowing slightly. “And you weren’t helping to prepare last night, either.”
At that, you straighten up and frown at him.
“Since when did you go to the preparations?” you ask sceptically. “I thought you were too cool to help out.”
“I was looking for you,” Aonung says unexpectedly. “You disappeared before.”
“Well,” you huff, lifting a spear, “I wasn’t in the mood for worshipping you like everyone else.”
Aonung chuckles slightly, shaking his head and leaning back to stare at you.
“You’ve never worshipped me.”
“You need someone to keep you humble,” you sigh, bringing your arm back and tossing the spear as hard as you can. It flies far and lands sticking straight up into the sand. You turn back to see Aonung looking impressed. “Unfortunately, being humble isn’t your strong suit.”
“Hey,” he protests. “I’m great at being humble. I’m practically the best at humbleness.”
“Right,” you roll your eyes, picking up another spear. “Be a dear and grab my spear, will you?”
You half expect Aonung to argue, to point out he is your superior, but to your surprise he obediently walks out and picks it from the sand. So he’s still doing as you ask, so what was that sudden resurgence of competition?
“Are you going to try and kill me?” Aonung asks amusedly, watching as you level another spear and throw it again whilst he’s still picking up your first.
“No,” you say stiffly. “I wouldn’t need to try- if I wanted you dead, this spear would already be through your head.”
“You really are strange,” he says, making his way back. There’s a strange fondness in his voice that you don’t understand.
Unbeknownst to you of course, Aonung was not so sneaky at hiding his feelings from everyone else. Or maybe the rest of the clan just wasn’t as oblivious as you. Either way, neither of you noticed your warriors gathering around, watching you and Aonung.
You had always been careful to maintain a courteous, respectful relationship with Aonung in the eyes of your warriors since you passed your iknimaya, but really, you weren’t fooling anyone.
Everyone remembers the two of you when you were younger, in constant competition, your distaste and need to keep him in line balancing his cockiness. And just as infamous (except to you) is just how much Aonung likes his second in command.
Really, it’s obvious to all your warriors- they’re the ones that have to watch Aonung watch you, watch your movements and instructions and teachings and scolding. It’s not secret to them that he likes you, yet their knowledge is a secret to Aonung, and everything is a secret to you.
You start the usual training, instructing all your warriors into warmups and then positions, preparing for them to practise sparring. But, unbeknownst to you, your warriors had a plan, sick of all the pretences and rivalry and oblivious and secrets.
The next stage of training was something of a tournament, all the warriors pairing up and fighting. Winner moves on, loser’s out. You should have known it would end up like this.
You were the best warriors after all, and too soon you found yourself facing Aonung, your warriors watching with interest from the sidelines after being absolutely annihilated by the pair of you. Really, your showdowns with Aonung were almost legendary, but there hadn’t been one since you both completed your iknimaya. But now here you are, about to fight him.
You and Aonung stand at opposite ends, studying each other and moving into battle positions.
You start to circle, before Aonung moves first. He stabs his spear towards you, which you parry easily and we whirl. It's a dance really, charged with tension as you slash and spiral, ducking and stabbing. But after a few moments, Aonung manages to twist the spear from your grip, and it clatters to the ground, rolling out of the circle. You hear groans from the crowd, and the thought that they think you might lose is infuriating.
Not this fucking time. You haven’t come second at every turn for years, your rivalry to die and and then suddenly just return for you to lose again.
You leap at Aonung, leaping over his spear jab and twisting in the air to grab his queue and use your momentum to fling him across the circle. His spear, too, goes rolling away, and he gets slowly to his feet, exhaling and narrowing his eyes slightly.
You exchange a few punches and attacks, enough for you to realise that he must be holding back. There is no way that someone that muscular throws a punch that weak.
"Why are you holding back?" you hiss.
"I'm not," Aonung says, yet the next punch he delivers to your side hardly winds you at all.
"Stop holding back," you growl, and leaping at him, knocking him to the floor and straddling him easily.
And finally, you see his eyes narrow and his breath catch with annoyance, and he moves with his full power. It was an anticipatable offence, and you step quickly aside, ducking under his swing. You move around behind him and kick his leg, bending it and sending him to his knees. You quickly toss him aside onto the ground while he is still confused, and he slides along the sand, digging his fingers in at the last moment.
He clambers to his feet and you crouch a little lower. You trail the circle, eyes fixed on one another. You wait, unhurried and unworried, so he gives in and makes the first move again. This time he goes for your legs, and you leap over him, pushing his shoulders down so he stumbles and you roll to the ground and spring up again.
You exchange punches and kicks, and he doesn't hold back. He tackles to the ground and you groan as his elbow jabs at your gut. Aonung is admittedly stronger, so it takes you some time to wiggle free from his hold, but you move your knee up to smack him in the groin. Then he rolls you over easily and pins me down, his other hand closing around your throat.
You jab your elbow into his side and roll you over again, pinning his hands up and straddling his chest.
“Go on,” you breathe, faces inches from Aonung, pressing your arm up against his throat, ready to cut off his breath if needed.
But he doesn’t say anything. His large, muscular body is warm and still beneath you, his eyes just roving over your face with wide pupils, breath heaving. In fact, his breathing is so strong you’re practically getting lifted up and down on his chest.
Everyone’s watching expectantly, and you press your arm down harder on his throat. You raise your brows expectantly at him.
“I give up,” he breathes, inches away from your face, eyes boring brightly into your own.
“Louder,” you snap, lightly slamming him against the ground.
“I give up!” he shouts.
You let him go, arm moving off his throat, and just resting, breathing heavily. He gave up. You won. You beat him, finally, after years of coming second, and everyone saw you do it.
And the staring eyes suddenly make you realise you’re still straddling Aonung, legs tight on either side and whole body resting on his infuriatingly very prominent abs.
You aren’t one to blush, but you’d be lying if you didn’t scramble quickly off him, readjusting your top and tewng as you look at your warriors. They look satisfied. Not in the way you feel, not like they’re happy you finally beat him. No, they look like something was just confirmed, something you just have no idea about.
“Dismissed,” Aonung calls, waving off his warriors.
You frown, but at the end of the day, it isn’t your call. So you greet your warriors goodbye, exchanging words and waving them off. You don’t miss their knowing smiles, and the way none of them wait for you to follow too. As though they know exactly what’s about to happen, as you pick up your spears and make to follow-
“Wait.”
The word hangs lazily in the air. And, since it was spoken out of his mouth, you had to obey. So, trying to fight off the scowl fixed on your face, you slowly turn to stare at him.
“Yes, Aonung?”
“You are mad with me,” Aonung says, a slight frown on his face. You squint slightly. Eywa, this skxawng really is thick, that it’s taken him so long to realise, and for him to not even be sure about it.
“Is that all you had to ask me?” you reply, with raised brows. “Can I go now-”
“No,” Aonung says bluntly. It’s the first time he’s ever flat out refused you, and you have to take a moment to realise that you actually have to stay and have this conversation now, instead of hiding your annoyance with him behind rolled eyes like usual.
“Fine.” You cross your arms and stand impatiently. It couldn’t be clearer that you wanted to leave, and Aonung shifts a little.
This isn’t at all how he pictured you to be acting. He had tried so hard- hunting the largest fish, trying his best to impress you at every turn with fighting and spear throwing. And you finally beat him. You won, so why are you so upset with him?
Maybe you noticed him staring, maybe you noticed how flustered he got when you had him pinned down and were straddling him?
In no way was Aonung someone that submitted easily. He listened to no one, except you. Really, you’re the only person that could ever get away with having him like that. If only you knew what more you could get away with, that he’d let you do anything, that he’d do anything you let him.
“Why do you dislike me so much?” Aonung asks. Your eyes narrow further.
“I don’t dislike you,” you say delicately, and he scoffs.
“We’ve been stuck in this competition since we were kids,” Aonung points out. “Why did it start.”
“You’re asking me?” you say with raised brows. “Aren’t you the one that’s been determined to beat me at every turn?”
“That’s what you think I’ve been doing?” Aonung asks incredulously. “You think all these years, I just wanted to win?”
“Don’t you?” you ask. “I mean, what have you been beating me and belittling me for years for then, if not to win?”
Aonung blinks rapidly. Oh eywa, this is fucked. He never would have guessed this; that you genuinely thought he dislikes you, that all he wanted was to triumph over you this whole time.
“You just won,” Aonung points out instead.
“Once,” you snap. “I won once, after busting my ass off my whole life. I can handle being second in command. I can handle you being a better hunter and a better fighter and a better leader and beader and whatever, but why are you suddenly rubbing all your victories in my face again?”
“I’m not,” Aonung says, flushing furiously. “I wasn’t trying to gloat or anything, I wanted you to see me do well… because…”
Your eyes narrow further, and your brows raise higher. It couldn’t be plainer you weren’t believing a word he said, and he could guess you’d take some convincing even if he did decide to confess everything right here and now. When he stands in awkward silence, trying to think of what to say, you scoff.
“What about the hunt. What about the spears. What about the top, and the marui and-”
“The top? The marui?”
“Yes,” you hiss. “I spent so long weaving the most beautiful top and you had to make an even prettier one. I mean- how did your massive fumbly fingers even manage to make it? And the marui- building the most beautiful home right in front of mine, blocking my view of the ocean-“
“Stop!” Aonung finally cuts you off, as your tone grows louder and more impatient. “It was for you.”
You scowl. Then you frown. Then you raise your brows, and part your lips in confusion. Then you scowl again.
“What?”
“It’s all for you,” Aonung explodes, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “I tried hard to impress you all those years. I hunted that fish to impress you. I wove that top to impress you. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you.”
And now he’s done it. Spoken the words that break everything, the ones that make fucking sure that nothing’s ever going to be the same. He risks a peek between his fingers at you.
You look like you’ve been broken. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks flushed, mouth parted in confusion, brows raised and head cocked slightly. You’re trying to tell what the fuck is going on. This is a joke, this has to be a joke. He’s taking the fucking piss.
There’s no way Aonung is telling the truth right now- no way anything has been for you. Not the fish, not the hunt, not the fights or the spears or the tops or any thing.
“And the marui?” you whisper. Aonung sighs, covering his face with a large hand. He looks absolutely mortified, as though he wasn’t meant to say any of this.
“Well, I was hoping this would go differently- better. That maybe you would see I liked you without needing me to shout it at you- that maybe you might think that perhaps I never disliked you and that I just wanted you to see me?”
You just continue to stare blankly at him, so he continues in a rush.
“It was perfect,” he mumbles. “Perfect for fishing. You could see the perfect sunsets. The prettiest shells wash up on the beaches underneath the walkway, and I know you love the little ones with the dark spirals. Early morning huts, places to store your weapons, a little cove for the ilu right underneath.”
You blink even more rapidly. Is this skxawng actually making sense? Is he telling the truth?
“So…” you say slowly, swallowing hotly. “You aren’t like… my rival or something.”
“I hope not,” Aonung mutters. “I mean, am I?”
The silence you keep is going to kill him. He just knows it; his heart is thumping so hard he knows it’s about to explode and he’s going to die. His hands and fidgeting sightly. Eywa, he’s never been this nervous in his life. Really, you’re the only person who’s ever managed to make him feel nervous.
And fuck. You had never thought of Aonung like this- never let yourself think of him like this. Because he was always Aonung, prince of the clan, your best friend’s brother, your commander, your rival. But now apparently not. When you think about it, you never hated Aonung. Your distaste for him was purely on a physical level, for his cockiness and taunting, yet noe it was never actually true.
Plus, there were good things about him- that he was a good hunter and fisher and fighter and weaver. And he was sort of sweet, even though you always mistook his crush for dislike.
Plus Eywa, he’s hot.
And maybe it has something to do with the terrified, guilty, nervous, heart-broken, hopeful look in those bright blue eyes, but you find your heart pounding slightly faster. No. Fuck.
The silence is growing longer, and you’re feeling… something. Something in the air between you. Something that had always been there, a tension that makes everything all sharp and strong and dangerous, but you’d always written it off as the stupid rivalry.
Aonung’s just staring, looking large and muscly and nervous in front of you, but also expectant. He expects you to say no. He thinks he’s messed up, pushed things too far, changed everything, fucked it all up. And, as ever, you prove him wrong.
“Aonung,” you say quietly. “What are you saying?”
“I- fuck- I like you,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “I like everything about you, even when you hate me. I like that you speak your mind, and you treat me like anyone and not like some king or something. I like that you aren’t ever afraid or nervous, and that everything you do is just… it’s just always right.”
You scrunch your face. A small flush is creeping across your cheeks. Who would have ever thought that Aonung would be the one to be giving you these stupid fucking butterflies, just by speaking and staring at you with those bright blue eyes. And that when it strikes you. All the usual customs of courting. Bringing gifts. Hunting for them. Beading them clothing. And the marui. Everything he thought you’d like- that you do like, and it was for you.
“So, you’re trying to court me?” you ask incredulously, heart thumping loudly in your chest.
“Is it not obvious already?” Aonung asks with a smile. “Do you need me to get down and propose, tawtute style?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you grin wickedly. “I didn’t spend years being second to you to let you off too easily now, did I?”
“Fine,” Aonung sighs. To your surprise, he kneels down instantly and rolls his eyes up at you. “Do you have an answer now?”
“So impatient,” you squint at him.
“Still your commander,” he points out. “But you don’t need to respond right now. I’m happy for you to take your time. I’ve already waited-”
Surprising even yourself, you reach out and pull him up. It’s not something you consciously do- you have no idea what you meant to do- but then all of a sudden you’re inches apart, eyes meeting dangerously, and you’re reaching up and he’s leaning down and your lips meet.
Fuck. It’s all warm and gentle and comfortable, his arms instantly reaching to encircle you, hold you, hands resting in your hair and carefully on your hips. He smells gently of amber and sea-breeze, but you’re most focused on his lips. They’re impossibly soft against yours, gentle, then exploratory, then hungry.
And then all of a sudden, you can see. It’s almost like your eyes aren’t closed; they’re open and you can see everything Aonung said in truth. You can feel the years he spent liking you in secret, the passion with which he wanted to hold you, to kiss you for so long. Too long. You can feel it in the heat of the kiss, the heaviness of his breath, the closeness of his body against yours, as though he wants to hold you as near as possible and never let you go.
But he does, hands sliding off your waist, withdrawing from your hair, stepping back and gazing down at you. And for the first time- you feel nervous. You feel bare, and messy, and scared. Not of Aonung, god no, but of what just happened. Of what you just felt.
And when he opens his mouth, no doubt to tell you there’s no pressure, he isn’t expecting anything from you, you’re free to do blah blah blah, you find there’s already an answer on your lips. It’s that you want his again.
“You’re to be Olo’eyktan,” you whisper. You immediately see his ears lower and face fall, and you quickly shake your head. "Aonung, look at me."
He does, ashamedly and heartbroken, and you swallow before thinking. You try to think what you need to say, bury what you want to say, biting your lip to stop yourself from hurting him. Or yourself. But his hand slides up to gently caress your face. With his fingers so gently touching your cheeks and under his intoxicating gaze, it's so hard to say it, but you know you must.
"Aonung, you have your people and your future to think-"
“I am thinking,” Aonung says firmly. “I’ve thought about this every day since we were kids. My parents knew I thought about this- the whole clan knew. And think about it- you are literally the best fighter, best hunter, best weaver in the whole clan.”
“You are,” you correct, but he just shakes his head.
“Don’t think about any duties or anything,” Aonung says firmly. “This is what I’ve wanted forever, more than being a warrior, more than being Olo’eyktan. Because what is important is you- and I won’t want to do any of those things without you by my side. Not some village girl, not some other shy healer, you.”
You can’t think of anything to say. You stand there for a moment, blinking at him, heart beating fast in your chest, head spinning nervously. So instead of saying anything, because you have no idea what to say, you step forward to close the gap he just made, lean onto your tip toes and crash your lips onto his.
And he catches you in a way no one else could. Really, only Aonung could be like this. He certainly hadn’t been wasting all that time staring at you in training- he knew exactly what to do- where to slide his hands over your waist, how to tilt your head, to graze his fangs lightly over your lips. This obviously isn’t his first rodeo (you know that, you’d heard enough stories about him with other girls),  but Eywa, you feel like it’s your first time with the way each of his careful, smooth movements have your heart twisting.
You’re growing closer, his hand traveling lower, your own moving over the muscles in his arms and back and shoulder and holy shit this man is just seemingly impossibly fit. The kisses are growing hungrier, messier, closer, all pressing of tongues and heavy breaths and grazing fangs.
Your insides are twisting nervously, tiny flutters of surprised delight flaring inside you, and also something else. You’re growing hungrier for his touches, greedy for him, and you can tell that he, too, is also growing needier. His hand brushes over the string of your tewng and you shiver in his touch.
But then he’s pulling away again. You frown at him, eyes narrowed, legs slightly rubbing together, lips feeling cold without the press of his against them. Aonung’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide to ebony moons ringed in clear blue, chest heaving slightly and gaze roving over your face.
When you return to your marui, your heart is thumping fast, and you notice something gleaming on your bed. The top. Aonnug’s top- the one he made. For you. You instantly run a finger along the intricate beading, just as you had when you first saw it, but still just as nervous, as gentle, as tentative. It can’t be yours- it doesn’t feel real- that he likes you, that he made this, that he did everything. For you.
“Where have you been?” an amused voice asks from the entrance. You turn to see Tsireya walking in towards you, a small knowing smile of her sweet face.
“I was training,” you say quietly. “And- um- Aonung…”
“You found out,” Tsireya says plainly, looking delighted. She walks over and leans a head on your shoulder, admiring the top with you. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? You should wear it tonight.”
You frown slightly. In all the haze of the fighting and annoyance and finally the truth, you’d forgotten about the festival. But as you gaze down at the beautiful top, you smile slightly. You nod at your best friend, who grins back and leans closer into you.
Aonung’s sitting at the side of the party. You’ve yet to arrive, and he’s determinedly avoiding the gazes sent his way from other girls. That’s how these sort of festivals always ended, how most of his nights ended, with a new girl. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel the slightest bit of interest, not when he remembered you.
The furious gleam in your eyes as you kissed him, the softness of your skin rubbing against his own, your slim waist held in his hand. The sweet, coconut smell of your soft dark curls, the warmth of your lips against his, the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his lips. And the sounds you made- all breathy and almost as hungry as he was, eywa, he can’t wait to hear it again.
It was better than he’d ever imagined, and he’d imagined kissing you a million times over the years. Soft and gentle and rough and hungry and desperate and sweet and everything you’d ever want. Because he’d do it. He’d do whatever you wanted.
“Hey,” Rotxo says, nudging Aonung. “Isn’t that the love of your life?”
Aonung turns, faster than he’s ever turned before, and sees you walking besides Tsireya and standing with the Sullys. A small shiver goes through him at the sight of you in that top. He had never pictured it would look like that, but he wasn’t about to complain.
The beadings shone against your teal skin in the pale moonlight and flickering firelight, the intricate strands of the top threading over your chest and leaving little to imagination. He’s barely aware he’s moved over and left an amused Rotxo behind, all he knows is suddenly you’ve stopped looking around the party to find him, and he’s right there in front of you.
Everything seems to fall silent- not only in Aonung’s mind. Girls all over the party are glaring, guys are frowning, your warriors are grinning in a fucking finally sort of way, and Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are just watching with delighted amusement. Across the fire, you can feel Ronal and Tonowari watching. But when you look over, Tonowari is smiling, and Ronal gives you an appreciative nod and a swift grin.
The festival seems to last a lifetime. It seems completely pointless to Aonung, just a bunch of congratulations to the hunters and a few songs and dances around the fire. Until you get out on the sand. The sway of your hips is hypnotising, as is the way your curls move in unison with your slim body. And of course, he doesn’t miss the way the top shifts as you dance, caressing over your skin like ripples in still water. He’s never been more jealous of an inanimate object in his life.
And then it’s over, and you’re right beside him. He’s not sure what exactly was going through his mind, what either of you were thinking, but suddenly you’re leaving the party together, hurried and hungry and it couldn’t be more fucking obvious what’s going to happen.
You’re alone now once you leave the beaches and walk along the woven pathways of the village; the whole clan is out at the festival. You look up at him, and he pauses to look down at you. Neither of you say anything, but then it’s happening and you’re kissing him again.
Really, none of it feels real. It all stopped being real when he told you he liked you- but now the way he’s leaning down so far to kiss you, to hold you closer just sends you over the edge of unreality. Then he’s getting impatient, and he’s simply picking you up like you weight nothing, hands automatically holding you in place by your back and one steadily holding your thigh.
You’re expecting to go to your marui, or maybe his, but instead, you don’t. You go into the perfect marui, the one you’ve stared at every day, as casually as though it’s your own home. You open your mouth to say something, but the privacy curtain of woven shells closes behind you, and it strikes you that you’re alone with Aonung.
The marui’s dimly lit in the silvery moonlight filtering through the weavings, and really, your attention is going straight to the very comfortable bed. His kisses are getting hungrier as he walks you backwards towards the bed, hands holding tight to your hips until both of you fall back onto the bed, his large, muscular body warm over yours. His hand reaches up to the beading of your top, and in his haste to get closer, he just rips it right off. You gasp, watching the beautiful beads scatter everywhere, but he pays no mind.
“I’ll make you more,” he promises. And who are you to complain- particularly with the way he’s staring at you.
Held in his warm lap, one of his hands big enough to hold both your breasts, both large enough to wrap around your whole neck. The thought of that makes you moan unconsciously, and Aonung blinks at you in surprise. You don't bother to play anything cool; with his hands where they are, he can feel how hot and nervous and hungry you are.
And when he meets your eyes again, you can see he feels the same. He’s trailing kisses down your jaw now, hands reaching up to lightly brush over your skin before he licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy.
He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit. You gasp, hands gripping his arms tighter, unexpectant and surprised. Each of his moves is calculated, clever, as though he’s planned this a million times in his head.
You blame all the years of training together- he’s the only one that would have such an intimate knowledge of your body without having done anything like this with you before. He knows to be gentle and rough and where to kiss and lick and nip. His hands are trailing down, and they’re sliding along the string of your tewng.
“Is this alright?” he asks gently, pausing to look up at you.
“Yes,” you breathe hastily, desperate for anything. How the tables have fucking turned; now all you want is his touch, his words, him, when just a day ago you were grumbling to Tsireya about what a competitive, infuriating skxawng he is.
“Shit,” he breathes, as his finger slides through your slit. “You’re so wet.”
But despite wanting this so bad, your face is flushing and you can’t help your legs closing slightly when he slides your tewng away, and you’re left bare in front of him. Aonung frowns with impatience, easily pushing them apart and muscling his face between your thighs with such obvious enthusiasm you practically squeal.
When his nose nudges again your clit and he licks a long stripe up your cunt, you jerk away in surprise and he grips your thighs to keep you still. You’ve never gotten eaten out before, and you weren’t at all expecting the sudden twist in you, or the way you clenched around nothing in arousal. You had forgotten to process the roughness of a na’vi tongue, and it feels all large and hot and wet and so unbelievably perfect.
You're squirming from the moment he gets onto you, sucking lightly at your clit, a delighted, puppy-playful glint in his large blue eyes, tossing your legs over his shoulders so his face is pressed even closer to you. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. You can't help it, the way you're simultaneously squirming away from the overwhelming pleasure of it all and the way you're rutting your hips into his face.
It's all messy, you're so wet, his face is shining with your slick and his spit, and he slides a finger back and dips it in. Instantly you gasp, jolting upwards and arching your back high to the ceiling. Aonung's about to grumble at your squirming when you tug at his hair and he groans.
“Go on,” he says carelessly, before he’s dove back down.
The man’s determined, you’ve got to give at least that to him. As you start to relax more and more, your grip on his hair gets tighter, and he’s moaning along with you. You aren’t entirely sure why, but he seems to be enjoying this as much as you do by the way his tail is thumping happily behind him, or how you can tell he’s very obviously grinning.
Aonung continues to lave his tongue against you, the warm roughness creating a perfect friction that has you arching up despite your hips being caged down by his large hands. He’s listening, watching everything you do, his ears pricking at every sound you make, his movements calculated to what you react to.
When he lightly sinks his fangs into your leg, you cry out and accidentally grind against his face, and he does it several more times.
“Fuck,” you groan, fingers threading deeper through his hair. And then he buries his tongue deep into you, nose nudging against your clit, and your orgasm is washing over you with fierce purpose. It takes you by complete surprise, and you writhe and moan and buck against his face until it’s all too much. Even then he doesn’t stop, and you have to tug his head away.
He looks disgruntled you’re making him stop, but his pride and dopey smile is bright on his face face shining like the fucking ocean, but he just wipes it carelessly and moves back up your body to shower your chest and neck with more kisses and light nips.
“That was fast,” he comments, grinning at you.
“Yeah, well,” you huff. “I- it’s never happened before.”
Aonung frowns, shifting closer.
“You’ve never been eaten out?”
“I- um... I’ve never come.”
“But…” Aonung says, frown deepening further. “You’ve been with a guy before. Right?”
He looks uncertainly at you, and you shift nervously. This is humiliating to admit, especially to the guy who’s known to be the most pleasurable man ever- the one who spends every second night with a new girl.
“Just one,” you mutter. “Once.”
“Who?” Aonung demands, and you smile, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls back. “We don’t have to do anything. Just-”
“No!” you say quickly, reaching towards him. “I want to do this, Aonung.”
He opens his mouth, no doubt to speak more comfort, to tell you there’s no pressure yada yada yada, you reach out and cup the bulge of his tewng. He hisses softly, words dying in his throat and his gaze leaping to rake over your face. He waits patiently, but you can see his jaw clenched in the effort it’s taking him not to rock against your hand.
He feels big. To be fair, you’ve only seen one cock in your life, and if you’re being honest, you’d hope most people were bigger than that, but just the clothed bulge under your hand is enough to have your head spinning. You just hope to Eywa you can take it- but you’ve never been a quitter.
When you press your hand against him, his hips rock and you reach to untie his loincloth. He doesn’t rush you, he doesn’t stop you. Aonung just watches with eyes blown to black moons ringed in turquoise, face following your movements, as though he wants to stay as close to you as possible.
When you finally pull away his loincloth, you have to bite back a gasp. You aren’t intimidated, per se, but the sheer size of him is slightly breathtaking. Never once, in all your filthy imaginations, had you truly dared to factor in the sheer size of him. Just by looking at his massive muscular body, one could guess, but they'd still have their fucking minds blown. He's big. So fucking big it has your eyes bulging and heart thumping and mouth almost watering. His cock is just as beautiful as him, just as smooth pale blue with the delicate darker stripes and glowing tahnì.
When you reach out and touch it, his hips jerk slightly and his pupils widen as your smaller hand closes gently around it. Aonung’s looking at you with worship in those beautiful eyes, lips parted and breath heavy as you shift your hand slowly up and down. All the while, you can imagine the size of it pressing into you, stretching you, ruining you. Aonung seems to be thinking the same thing, because all too soon he’s lifting you up and tugging you closer as though you weigh nothing. He places you over his lap.
“Here,” he says gently, guiding your hips to rock lightly against him. The length of his cock slides along the seam of your cunt, both of you breathing heavily at the warm smear of slick you leave across him, grinding against his lap. He props himself up so he can capture you in a deep kiss, swallowing each others lewd moans at the friction. Heat is growing fast, too fast, everywhere in your body- in your face and heart and thighs and you tremble slightly at the drag of your hips over his.
Impatience for the teasing growing in both of you, Aonung gently flips you over so you’re lying beneath him, back carefully resting against the bed, and lining himself up at his entrance. At the slightest movement, your legs stretching further around his body as he presses slightly onto his cock, you know it's going to be a stretch.
“Fuck yawne,” he groans, as he pushes past the first ring of resistance and slowly starts to slide in. “You’re tighter than I ever imagined. Are you okay?”
You nod breathlessly, clutching hard to his shoulders as he slides even deeper, biting your lip. You don’t care that it turns out you weren’t rivals, you weren’t about to let Aonung see how tense you are. But he can probably feel it, given that you’re clenching around him already, and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet.
He just goes in and in and in. When you think he’s all in, he rocks another inch into you and whispers how well you’re doing. He’s careful to be gentle, stroking your hair and muttering praise to you- but you’re still impatient.
You hardly care how much you get hurt, just wanting him inside you, stretching you, marking you, ruining you, and you drop further down so the head of his cock starts to press into you. You try to lift, to fuck yourself further onto his cock, and he holds you down to adjust.
It’s not like you want the pause when he finally bottoms out, but you sit and breathe and whimper, trying to get used to the burning stretch of it all. Aonung’s breathing heavily too, trembling with the effort it’s obviously taking him not to just move and rut and demolish you. When he shakily looks up, his eyes meet yours, all dark with lust and wide with ecstacy, and he finally pulls out just an inch before snapping it back into you.
You gasp, and Aonung hisses. When he’s sure you’re alright, he pulls out, pushes back in, and you annihilate the last pretences of rivalry. It seems impossible now, that you once disliked him. Hated those blue eyes raking over you, despised the large hands holding you so gently while he thrusts into you, detested that smile with those lips that now make you melt.
You’re gasping and moaning and cursing with every thrust, breath getting knocked the fuck out of you again and again and again until you’re living off the tiny moments in which he’s pulled out, where you feel cold and empty and longing to be stuffed and stretched around him again.
It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to grow again, and by the way Aonung is hissing and groaning and burying his face in your neck, you can tell he’s close too. His hands are gripping the bed so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it broke. When you arch up, tits pressing against his chest in a way that makes him moan shamelessly, you can see every muscle in his back rippling, each muscle in his arm taut as he thrusts into you. It has you clenching tight around him.
“Fuck,” he’s muttering, again and again, large and muscular and heavy above you.
You aren’t sure what makes you do it, maybe your natural, primal urge to beat him like you’ve always longed to is taking over, but you’re suddenly rolling over and pushing him back against the bed. His eyes are wide and worshipful as you steady yourself with hands on his chest, hands jumping to your hips pressed against his own, him sheathed deep inside you.
You rock on him, thighs burning as you lift yourself up and down in a welcome pain, that familiar coil building up and up and up. Aonung stares up at you, eyes wide and dark and curious and worshipful and hungry. And then it suddenly crests, in a welcome, overwhelming flood of pleasure.
You aren’t even aware of it- too busy ascending into fucking heaven, stuck in a place where you cant see or hear or do anything- you just know wave upon wave of overwhelming pleasure crashing into and over you. When you slowly come down, vision returning in bright bursts, you have a split second to note the awe and reverence in Aonung’s eyes before something seems to take over him, and his gaze is darkening and he’s lost control.
It never occurred to you, just how gentle he’d been, until he’s completely let go, allowed the crushing desire to overcome him. He's half thrusting up into you, half picking up and slamming down your body onto him, and you're unravelling into a moaning, trembling mess on top of him, teeth sunk into his shoulder to try and quiet your sounds, because you sure as fuck can't hold them in.
You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his final restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until he finally comes to a shaky stop.
You can’t breathe. You don’t know if you want to- you’re perfectly content as you just collapse against Aonung, lying warmly against his solid chest, his muscular arms automatically reaching out to wrap around you and roll you over so he can cuddle you properly. He presses a gentle kiss to your collar, before speaking softly.
“Are you alright?” he asks quietly.
You can’t think of anything to say, you just exhale shakily and give a small, trembly laugh, holding his hand in yours and leaning against him.
“Change your mind about me?” Aonung asks lightly. “Still think I’m a skxawng?”
“Absolutely,” you huff, grinning up at him. “I should get home-”
“Stay,” Aonung says, hugging you closer. “This will be your home, might as well get used to it.”
You smile against his chest. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, not when a day ago, he was your rival. But you’re more than happy to try, so you lean your head into the crook of his shoulder, his arm trailing down to cloak the curve of your waist.
“We have training in the morning,” you point out. “The warriors will be-”
“Our warriors won’t be anything I say they shouldn’t be,” Aonung shrugs. “You’re forgetting who you’re lying with.”
You roll your eyes.
“Skxawng.”
941 notes · View notes
icycoldninja · 3 months ago
Note
How do you think the DMC boys would act with a male partner?
Sparda boys + V x Male!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-Treats you more like his best friend than his boyfriend.
-Honestly, no one can tell you're in a relationship unless you guys get drunk together, which is when you start making out.
-You guys work out together all the time, often wearing matching outfits.
-You guys often swap aftershave and shaving supplies just because it's fun.
-Wrestling matches happen almost every day, usually turning into cuddle sessions where you just lie on the floor together.
-It looks absolutely ridiculous, and it feels ridiculous, but it's a lot of fun.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil is extremely overprotective of you to the point that people sometimes think you're family.
-Some of the more observant ones who note that you guys look nothing alike, think you're best friends.
-Obviously it's beyond that. Vergil loves you more than anything in the world, but he refuses to show that in public.
-Trains you every day and pushes you way past your physical limit all for the sake of helping you get stronger.
-Now you're ripped as hell and all the ladies won't stop ogling you, but they don't know you're already taken.
-Vergil is now extremely jealous because he doesn't want anyone to try and steal you from him.
□ Nero □
-You and Nero are such loving boyfriends.
-Nero gets really embarrassed about PDA, just because he thinks it's cheesy, so you don't do a lot of lovey dovey stuff around the others.
-But in private, it's a completely different story. He's cuddling you, kissing you, hugging you and all that.
-Playfully fights with you every chance he gets.
-Has you become his back weights while he does push-ups and does the same for you.
-For some reason, his phone is filled with shirtless selfies that you guys took together in front of the bathroom mirror.
● V ●
-And the award for cutest couple of the year goes to....you guys!
-You're such adorable lovebirds and are not ashamed to show it.
-Always cuddling up to each other, sitting together whenever you get a chance, holding hands wherever you go, and constantly exchanging loving glances.
-He can rely on you whenever he needs assistance getting someplace, or when his limbs decide they're not going to cooperate anymore.
-Oftentimes you can be spotted happily skipping down the street, toting V around bridal-style. It's hilariously strange, but also cute.
-You often tie his hair up into cute little pigtails for fun, and he'll do the same for you if your hair is long enough.
96 notes · View notes
kckt88 · 8 months ago
Text
Kickstart My Heart
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Summary:
After his last relationship ended, Aemond decided he was taking a break from women, and it was going well until his sister Helaena introduces him to her new friend.
Warning(s): Language, Angst, Mentions of Past Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, P in V, Misunderstandings, Alys.
AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N (PAST AEMOND X ALYS)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 7215
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Aemond stood in the dimly lit living room of the apartment he used to share with Alys. The air felt heavy with the weight of their turbulent relationship, a storm that had raged for far too long.
Tonight, however, he was determined to bring an end to it.
Alys sat on the couch, her green eyes fixated on her phone, barely acknowledging his presence. She exuded an air of indifference, as if his existence was merely an inconvenience.
"Alys," Aemond began, his voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within him. "We need to talk."
She glanced up briefly, her expression tinged with annoyance. "Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of something."
Aemond shook his head, his resolve hardening with each passing second. "No, it can't wait. I've had enough."
Alys scoffed, a derisive smile playing on her lips. "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Aemond replied, his tone unwavering. "I can't do this anymore. I can't be with someone who belittles me, who cheats on me, who takes advantage of me."
Alys's facade of indifference crumbled, replaced by a flicker of anger. "You're being ridiculous, Aemond. You can't just throw away what we have because of a few petty disagreements."
"These aren't petty disagreements, Alys," Aemond retorted, his voice rising slightly. "You've made me feel worthless, you've betrayed my trust time and time again, and you've manipulated me into doing things I never wanted to do. I deserve better than this."
Alys opened her mouth to respond, but Aemond held up a hand, silencing her. "I'm done, Alys. I'm leaving."
With that, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, his heart pounding in his chest. As he stepped out into the cool night air, a sense of liberation washed over him, filling him with a newfound sense of purpose.
He made his way to his sister Helaena's apartment, seeking solace in the familiarity of her presence.
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Of course, his sister welcomes him with open arms, saying he could stay as long as he needed to and as Aemond settle in and began to regain some semblance of normalcy he vowed to take a break from relationships and women.
He had been blinded by what he thought was love and lured into a toxic cycle that had left him broken and disillusioned. But now, as he gazed into the depths of his own soul, he knew that he could not afford to make the same mistake again.
"No more," declared Aemond, his voice growing stronger with each repetition. "I will focus on myself, on rebuilding my life and reclaiming my sense of worth. I will not let anyone else dictate my happiness or define my worthiness."
After that things were going great, Aemond regained his focus at work, he began hanging out with his friends again and he even started back at the gym.
His mantra of no women was doing him the world of good until one day Helaena had dragged him to flower shop where she worked and introduced him to her new friend and every single ounce of sanity flew from his head the moment her saw her.
"Aemond, this is Y.N," Helaena said with a warm smile as she gestured towards the stunning woman beside her.
Aemond's gaze swept over Y.N, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. He felt as though the air had been knocked out of his lungs, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest.
Y.N was breathtakingly beautiful, with long auburn hair cascading down her back and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Aemond," Y.N said, her voice soft and melodious, sending shivers down his spine.
Aemond managed to compose himself enough to offer a polite nod in response, though his mind was reeling with a whirlwind of emotions. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Y.N, captivated by her beauty and grace.
As the conversation flowed between the three of them, Aemond found himself drawn to Y.N's every word, hanging on her every syllable as though it were a lifeline. He couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards her, the way she seemed to light up the room with her presence.
As Y.N stood face to face with Aemond, she couldn't help but be struck by his undeniable presence. Tall and lithe, he exuded an air of quiet strength that drew her in like a moth to a flame.
But it was not just his stature that caught her attention.
Her gaze traced the sharp angles of his face, taking in the striking features that seemed to have been carved from marble by the hands of a master sculptor. Despite the scar that bisected the left side of his face and the eyepatch, there was an undeniable beauty in the symmetry of his features.
Y.N found herself captivated by the intensity of his remaining eye, a stormy grey that seemed to hold a world of emotions within its depths. There was a vulnerability there, a glimpse into the soul of a man who had weathered his fair share of storms.
But it was not just Aemond's physical appearance that left Y.N breathless. There was something about the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence tempered by a hint of sorrow, that spoke to her on a deeper level.
In that moment, as their eyes met and held, Y.N knew that she had stumbled upon someone truly remarkable. And as she found herself drawn into his orbit, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him better, of unravelling the mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface of his stoic facade.
As Y.N stood before Aemond, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of shyness that was unlike anything he had ever encountered before. Unlike the confident and brazen women, he had known in the past, Y.N seemed to radiate a quiet and unassuming charm that drew him in despite himself.
Her timid demeanour stood in stark contrast to the fiery spirit of Floris, the regal confidence of Cerelle or the boldness of Alys. There was a softness to Y.N, a vulnerability that spoke volumes without her having to utter a single word.
Aemond found himself captivated by the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink whenever their eyes met. There was a purity to her presence that stirred something within him, something he had long thought lost amidst the chaos of his past relationships.
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Helaena couldn't contain her excitement as she extended an invitation to Y.N to join them at her apartment for a casual get-together.
As Y.N agreed to come over, Helaena shot a mischievous glance at her brothers, Aegon and Aemond, who were lounging in the living room.
"You should see the look on Aemond's face," Helaena teased, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I think he's more excited about this than anyone."
Aegon chuckled, casting a knowing glance in Aemond's direction. "I thought you swore off women, little brother. What happened to all that talk about focusing on yourself?"
Aemond felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, though he couldn't deny the truth in his brother's jest. "I-uh-it's not like that," he stammered, struggling to find the right words to defend himself.
Helaena laughed, coming to her brother's rescue. "Oh, lighten up, Aegon. Can't a man appreciate the company of a charming woman without it being a big deal?"
Aegon raised an eyebrow in mock scepticism, but the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. "I suppose so."
With a good-natured chuckle, Aemond rolled his eyes, knowing that his siblings meant well. And as he awaited Y.N's arrival with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, he couldn't help but feel grateful for their unwavering support and teasing banter.
As Y.N arrived at Helaena's apartment, she clutched a box of delicately decorated butterfly fairy cakes that she had baked herself. The nervous flutter in her stomach only intensified as she stepped through the door, greeted by the warm smiles of Helaena and her brothers.
"Y.N, you made it!" Helaena exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "And you brought your famous butterfly fairy cakes! I can't wait to try them."
Y.N's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at the praise, her shy demeanour shining through as she handed the box to Helaena. "I hope you like them," she murmured softly, her gaze flickering towards the floor.
Aegon stepped forward, extending a hand in greeting. "I'm Aegon, Helaena's older brother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Y.N."
Y.N nodded politely, her eyes darting briefly to meet his before retreating once more. "Nice to meet you, Aegon," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aemond watched the interaction with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, noting the way Y.N seemed to retreat into herself in the presence of his siblings. When she finally glanced up and caught his eye, her blush deepened, and she seemed to shrink back even further.
"Hello, Y.N," Aemond greeted her with a warm smile, his voice gentle as he tried to ease her nerves.
"Hi, Aemond," Y.N replied, her voice barely audible as she fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve.
Aemond couldn't help but be charmed by her shyness, finding it endearing in a way he hadn't expected.
As the evening progressed, Aemond found himself drawn to Y.N's quiet presence, his curiosity piqued by the mystery that surrounded her.
"So, Aemond," Aegon began with a mischievous glint in his eye, "do you think Y.N would be as shy in bed as she is here?"
Aemond's smile faltered, his amusement evaporating in an instant as he shot his brother a stern look. He was not amused by Aegon's insinuation, finding it distasteful and disrespectful.
"Aegon, that's enough," Aemond said sharply, his voice carrying a note of warning.
Aegon's grin widened, unfazed by his brother's reprimand. "Oh, come on, Aemond. I was just kidding. Lighten up."
But Aemond wasn't in the mood for jokes, especially not at Y.N's expense. He could see the discomfort in her eyes, the way she seemed to shrink back even further at Aegon's words. It wasn't fair to make her the subject of such crude humour, especially when she had done nothing to warrant it.
"I said that's enough," Aemond repeated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Aegon held up his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk never left his face. "Fine, fine. I'll behave."
As the tension between them eased, Aemond turned his attention back to Y.N, determined to make her feel comfortable despite his brother's thoughtless remark. And as he caught her eye and offered her an apologetic smile, he silently vowed to ensure that she felt respected and valued for the rest of the evening.
As the evening drew to a close and it was time to say their goodbyes, Aemond gathered his courage and approached Y.N, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y.N," he began, his voice slightly nervous but determined, "I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me?"
Y.N's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I would love to," she replied softly, her eyes shining with shy anticipation.
Aemond felt a surge of relief and joy flood through him at her acceptance, his heart soaring at the prospect of spending more time with her. "Great," he said, unable to contain the grin that spread across his face. "Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to go? Maybe the cinema, or somewhere else?"
Y.N's blush deepened, but she shook her head. "The cinema sounds perfect," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Alright then," Aemond said, his excitement bubbling over. "How about we meet tomorrow evening at 7pm at the cinema? We can catch a movie and maybe grab dinner afterwards?"
Y.N nodded eagerly, a shy smile playing on her lips. "That sounds wonderful," she agreed, her eyes meeting his with a newfound confidence.
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As Y.N departed from Helaena's apartment, leaving Aemond with a heart full of anticipation for their upcoming date, Aegon couldn't resist the opportunity to tease his younger brother once more.
"Well, well, little brother," Aegon teased, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, "looks like you've got yourself a shy little bird there. Are you sure you can handle her?"
Aemond shot his brother a pointed look, his patience wearing thin. "Aegon, enough with the jokes," he chided, his tone firm.
Helaena, sensing the tension in the air, quickly intervened, elbowing Aegon in the ribs with a reproachful glare. "Stop it, Aegon," she scolded, her voice carrying a note of warning. "Y.N is very shy, and I don't want her to get hurt."
Aegon winced slightly at the jab but couldn't resist a playful grin. "Alright, alright," he relented, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'll behave, I promise."
Aemond turned to Helaena, his expression earnest as he spoke. "You don't need to worry, Helaena. I'll be good to Y.N. I promise to treat her with the respect and kindness she deserves."
Helaena smiled warmly at her brother, her eyes shining with pride. "I know you will, Aemond," she said softly, her voice filled with confidence. "Just be yourself, and everything will be fine."
The next day -
As the clock struck 7 pm, Aemond Targaryen stood outside the cinema, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. His eyes scanned the bustling crowd, searching for a glimpse of Y.N. And there she was, emerging from the sea of people, a vision of beauty in a sun dress paired with a cardigan that hugged her delicate frame.
Aemond couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration as he approached her, his lips curling into a warm smile. "Y.N," he greeted her, his voice tinged with excitement.
Y.N's cheeks flushed a rosy pink at his greeting, but a radiant smile graced her lips as she returned his gaze. "Hi, Aemond," she replied softly, her eyes sparkling with shy anticipation.
Together, they entered the cinema, the anticipation of the evening ahead hanging in the air like a delicate promise. As they settled into their seats, Aemond couldn't help but notice the way Y.N's eyes widened with excitement at the prospect of the movie they were about to watch.
The lights dimmed, and the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the darkened theater. Aemond glanced at Y.N out of the corner of his eye, noting the way she jumped at the sudden burst of sound and movement on the screen.
As the movie unfolded, Aemond found himself more amused by Y.N's reactions than by the film itself. He couldn't help but smile as she buried her face in her hands during the suspenseful moments, her fingers peeking through to cover her eyes.
Unable to resist the urge to offer her comfort, Aemond gently draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a gesture of silent reassurance. Y.N tensed slightly at the unexpected contact, but soon relaxed into his embrace, leaning into him with a sigh of relief.
After the movie ended, Aemond and Y.N emerged from the cinema into the bustling city streets, the cool evening air tinged with the aroma of freshly baked pizza. Aemond glanced at Y.N, wondering where she might want to go for dinner, but he was pleasantly surprised when she suggested his favorite pizza place.
"Really? That's one of my favorite spots!" Aemond exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face. "I didn't know you liked it too."
Y.N's cheeks flushed with a shy smile. "I've actually been there a few times before," she admitted. "It's delicious."
As they made their way to the pizza place, Aemond couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude that swelled within him. Unlike his ex-girlfriend Alys, who always expected him to foot the bill for everything, Y.N seemed considerate and respectful.
When they reached the restaurant, Aemond reached for his wallet to pay for their meal, but Y.N gently placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Let me get this one," she insisted, her eyes meeting his with a determined gaze. "You paid for the cinema, so it's only fair that I treat you to dinner."
Aemond's heart warmed at her gesture, touched by her thoughtfulness and generosity. "Are you sure?" he asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable with the arrangement.
Y.N nodded, her smile soft and genuine. "I'm sure. Besides, it's the least I can do after you invited me out tonight."
With a grateful nod, Aemond put his wallet back in jeans pocket, allowing Y.N to take care of the bill. As they sat together, enjoying their meal and each other's company, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over him.
With Y.N by his side, he knew that he had found someone who appreciated him for who he was, and not someone who only valued him not for his family name or wealth.
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As the evening drew to a close, Aemond walked Y.N back to her small one-bedroom flat, just a few blocks away from where he lived with Helaena. The gentle hum of conversation between them filled the air, punctuated by the occasional laugh and shared smile.
As they reached Y.N's door, she turned to Aemond with a shy smile. "Would you mind waiting here for a moment?" she asked softly. "I just need to grab something."
"Of course," Aemond replied with a nod, curiosity piqued by her request.
Y.N disappeared into her flat, leaving Aemond standing outside her door with a sense of anticipation building within him. He couldn't help but wonder what she was up to, his mind racing with possibilities.
Moments later, Y.N reappeared, holding something in her hands. Aemond's breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the dragon-shaped pastry she held out to him, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"I made this for you," Y.N said softly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "It's filled with jam. I hope you like it."
Aemond's heart swelled with gratitude and affection as he accepted the pastry from her. "Thank you, Y.N," he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm sure it's delicious."
As he took a bite of the pastry, Aemond couldn't help but be struck by the sweetness of the gesture. It was a simple gift, but it spoke volumes about Y.N's thoughtfulness and care. And as he savored the flavor of the jam-filled pastry, he knew that he had found something truly special in her – a connection that he cherished more than words could express.
In a daring moment of impulse, Aemond leaned in, his heart pounding in his chest as he closed the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, a tentative exploration of the unknown, and in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.
It was unlike anything Aemond had ever felt before – a surge of warmth and electricity that coursed through his veins, igniting a spark that set his soul ablaze. In that moment of intimacy, he felt a connection with Y.N that transcended the boundaries of mere physical attraction, a deep and profound understanding that resonated to the very core of his being.
As they parted, their eyes met in silent communion, the intensity of their gaze speaking volumes without the need for words.
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As Aemond and Y.N's relationship blossomed, they found themselves drawn to each other like magnets, spending every available moment together exploring the intricacies of their budding romance. Their days were filled with laughter and shared experiences.
One sunny afternoon, as they lounged in Y.N's cozy kitchen, the scent of freshly baked goods wafting through the air, Y.N suggested that they try their hand at baking a sponge cake together.
"It'll be fun," she said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And besides, I've been dying to teach you how to bake."
Aemond chuckled, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. "I'm not sure I'll be any good at it, but I'll give it a try."
With Y.N's patient guidance, they set to work, measuring out ingredients and mixing them together with care. Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he watched Y.N work her magic in the kitchen, her skill and expertise evident in every precise movement.
As they popped the cake into the oven and waited for it to bake, Aemond found himself growing more and more excited at the prospect of tasting their creation. When the timer finally beeped, signaling that the cake was done, they eagerly pulled it out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool.
With bated breath, they sliced into the cake and took their first bite, only to find that it was a little on the dry side. Aemond's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Y.N simply laughed and reached for the whipped cream, insisting that it would make everything better.
Together, they devoured the cake, laughing and joking as they shared in the simple pleasure of each other's company.
As Aemond and Y.N sat together one evening, the warmth of the fire casting a soft glow over the room, Aemond felt a sudden urge to confide in her, to share the depths of his past with the woman he had grown to love.
"Y.N," he began, his voice quiet but resolute, "there's something I need to tell you."
Y.N turned to him, concern etched into her features. "What is it, Aemond?"
Taking a deep breath, Aemond launched into the painful tale of his relationship with Alys – the belittling words, the constant infidelity, the toxic cycle of breaking up and getting back together.
"It was a dark time in my life," Aemond confessed, his voice heavy with emotion. "I was lost, and I didn't know how to break free from the hold she had over me."
Y.N listened in silence, her heart aching for the pain that Aemond had endured. She reached out and took his hand in hers, offering him the comfort of her touch.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Aemond," she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "But you're stronger now."
Aemond nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over him for Y.N's unwavering support. "Yes, I have," he replied, his voice tinged with determination. "And I owe it to you, Y.N. You've shown me what it means to be truly loved, and I'll never take that for granted."
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As the night worn on and the two of them shared kisses, the unspoken question of what was going to happen next hung in the air.
“I-I’ve never done it before” muttered Y.N shyly as she pressed her face into Aemond’s chest.
“It’s ok. We don’t need to do this, not until you’re ready” replied Aemond stroking her hair softly.
“B-But I want to. I want you to be my first” whispered Y.N.
“Only if you’re sure, I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything” said Aemond firmly.
“I’m sure Aemond. I want this-I want you” exclaimed Y.N as she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.
Despite his experience, Aemond had never so nervous in his entire life, his hands shook as he slowly undressed himself.
Y.N gently tugged off the dress she was wearing and Aemond could feel his mouth watering at the sight of her delectable body.
“I-I don’t know what to do” muttered Y.N her cheeks tinged pink.
“It’s ok-I’ll take care of you” replied Aemond as he directed Y.N to sit on the end if the bed.
“I trust you” replied Y.N quietly.
Aemond smiled as he knelt on the floor, lowering his head between Y.N’s legs.
“Aemond-“ shrieked Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.
Y.N bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.
“Let me hear you”.
“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” begged Y.N
Aemond pressed two fingers inside Y.N, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake, his tongue moving against her folds, his lips wrapping around her pearl.
“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.
Y.N arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.
Aemond crawled up Y.N’s body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.
Y.N blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.
“Calm yourself my little bird” murmured Aemond.
“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Y.N putting her hands over her face in embarrassment.
“Was that your first peak?” asked Aemond as he gently pulled away her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
Y.N blushed and nodded quickly, jumping when she felt Aemond’s cock against her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow” whispered Aemond as he reached down and took hold of his hard cock rubbing it along Y.N’s wet folds.
“Ok. I’m ready” replied Y.N, her heart pounding.
Aemond hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowed.
“I-don’t have a condom”.
“Oh-I have some” replied Y.N.
“You do?” questioned Aemond.
“I bought them from the pharmacy and-“ replied Y.N, her face flushed.
“-It’s ok-where are they?” asked Aemond.
“I-In the drawer” uttered Y.N.
Aemond nodded and briefly moved away from Y.N, he quickly opened the drawer and pulled out the box of condoms.
“Are they the right ones-there were so many different kinds and-“
“-They’re good” replied Aemond as he opened the box and took out a condom.
Y.N closed her eyes as Aemond ripped open the foil packet and rolled the condom down his length.
Aemond leaned forward again and placed a series of kisses along Y.N’s neck, his hand gently cupping her breast before he sucked the rosy bud into his mouth, his tongue rolling around the stiffened peak.
“L-Let me see you” whispered Y.N.
Aemond released her nipple with a soft pop and frowned.
“It’s not a pretty sight-I wouldn’t want to frighten you” replied Aemond.
“Nothing about you could frighten me Aemond-“ breathed Y.N
Aemond hesitated for a moment before he pulled off his eye patch, revealing a sparkling sapphire. 
“Beautiful” whispered Y.N as she took Aemond’s head in her hands and placed a kiss upon the scar.
Aemond smiled before he knelt between her thighs, supporting himself above her on his forearm while his other hand guides his cock to her wet centre.
“Oooh Aemond” exclaims Y.N
Aemond slowly pushes the blunt head of his cock inside. Just the tip feels okay but then he’s pushing inside, and it stings, Y.N clenches her eyes shut as his cock fully slides into her, his hips coming to rest against hers.
“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.
“It hurts,” cried Y.N
“Do you want me to stop-I can pull out” whispered Aemond.
“N-No g-give me a moment” whimpered Y.N.
Aemond stops, holding himself above Y.N, she can feel his cock throbbing inside her.
For a few silent minutes, Aemond begins to press gentle kisses all over Y.N’s face and neck, then after the sting has faded somewhat, Y.N gently moves her hips.
“I-I think you can move”.
Aemond exhales shakily, pulling out halfway only to thrust right back in.
“You’re taking me so well little bird,” whispers Aemond soothingly, thrusting again, harder this time.
Gradually he gets into a rhythm, his movements slow but powerful.
Y.N brings her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed. The wooden frame creaking slightly.
Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.
His cock still thrusting in and out.
Y.N kisses him back, threading her fingers through his silky hair.
Aemond breaks the kiss, breathing heavily.
Y.N can feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.
“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”
Aemond groans as he begins to move faster pounding into her, their skin slapping together.
“Aemond-Aemond-”
“You’re so fucking perfect little bird, mine all mine” growls Aemond.
“Y-Yes, yours all yours” moans Y.N squirming as he pleasure peaks and she explodes.
Aemond lets out a long low groan, his hips bucking wildly. His cock twitching as he spills into the condom.
Aemond’s hips finally stagger and stop. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, resting for a moment before he slowly pulls out.
“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.
“I’m fine” whispered Y.N smiling breathlessly.
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In the days following their intimate moment together, Aemond's behaviour began to change, his once carefree demeanour replaced by a sense of unease and agitation. He grew increasingly distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts he refused to share with Y.N.
As they sat together one evening, the air heavy with tension, Y.N couldn't help but notice the way Aemond's eyes flickered nervously towards his phone every time it buzzed with a new message or notification. She reached out to touch his hand, a gesture of comfort and concern, but he withdrew from her touch, his expression clouded with frustration.
"What's wrong, Aemond?" Y.N asked softly, her voice laced with worry.
Aemond's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he snapped at her in a fit of frustration. "Nothing, okay? Just leave me alone."
Y.N recoiled at his harsh words, hurt flashing across her features as she withdrew into herself, uncertain of how to respond. She had never seen Aemond like this before, his normally calm and collected demeanour shattered by whatever demons haunted him.
As the days passed, Aemond's behaviour only grew more erratic, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. He withdrew further and further into himself, shutting Y.N out.
Things didn’t improve and a few weeks later when Y.N was walking to work, and she spotted Aemond talking to a dark haired woman.
There was something about the way they interacted that made her stomach churn with unease – the woman's lingering touches, the way Aemond seemed visibly uncomfortable in her presence.
Unable to tear her eyes away, Y.N watched in silent horror as the woman leaned in and planted a kiss on Aemond's lips. A surge of pain shot through her chest, the betrayal cutting her to the core as she struggled to process what she had just witnessed.
Without a second thought, Y.N turned on her heel and fled, the tears streamed down her cheeks, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to escape the suffocating grip of heartbreak that threatened to consume her whole.
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Aemond was frantic, all his calls and messages to Y.N went unanswered, his desperation grew, a gnawing sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.
Determined to make amends, Aemond made his way to Y.N's flat, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. He knocked on the door, calling out her name in a voice tinged with desperation, but there was no response – only silence echoing back at him like a cruel mockery of his pain.
Growing increasingly frantic, Aemond tried again and again to reach Y.N, but each attempt was met with the same resounding silence. And as he stood outside her door, his pleas falling on deaf ears, he felt a sense of despair wash over him, knowing that he had pushed her away with his own foolishness.
But it wasn't just Y.N who turned her back on him – even Helaena, his own sister, greeted him with a cold shoulder, her expression tight with disappointment as she refused to meet his gaze.
He had expected her to be upset, but the fury in her eyes was more intense than he had ever imagined.
"What were you thinking, Aemond?" Helaena snapped, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Y.N saw you with Alys. Do you have any idea how much you've hurt her?"
Aemond's heart clenched at the mention of Y.N's name, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a leaden weight. "Helaena, you have to believe me," he protested, his voice thick with emotion. "It wasn't what it looked like. Alys kissed me, I didn't want her to, and I pushed her away immediately."
Helaena's eyes narrowed in disbelief, her jaw clenching with frustration. "Do you expect me to believe that?" she demanded, her voice rising with each word. "Y.N saw you with Alys, Aemond. She saw it with her own eyes."
Aemond's heart sank at the realization of the damage his actions had caused, the truth of Helaena's words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I swear it's the truth, Helaena," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "I would never hurt Y.N like that. You have to believe me."
Helaena's expression softened slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. "I want to believe you, Aemond," she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with sadness. "But you need to understand the gravity of the situation. Y.N is hurting, and it's because of you."
Aemond bowed his head in shame, the weight of his guilt threatening to crush him under its unbearable burden. "I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I just hope that Y.N will give me the chance to prove myself to her."
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As the rain poured down in torrents, soaking Aemond to the bone, he stood outside Y.N's flat, his heart heavy with regret and longing. He knew she was inside, just beyond the closed door, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving without at least trying to make things right.
With a trembling hand, Aemond knocked on the door, each rap echoing loudly in the quiet of the rainy night. "Y.N, please," he called out, his voice raw with emotion. "Please let me in. I need to talk to you."
For a moment, there was only silence, the sound of the rain pounding against the pavement the only response to Aemond's pleas. But just as he was about to turn away in defeat, he heard the faint sound of movement from inside the flat.
Seconds stretched into eternity as Aemond waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest. And then, finally, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N's tear-stained face, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
Aemond's heart clenched at the sight of her pain, a wave of guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. "Y.N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me in. I need to explain."
Y.N hesitated for a moment, her gaze searching Aemond's face for any sign of sincerity. And then, slowly, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter the warmth and safety of her flat.
As Aemond stepped over the threshold, he felt a sense of relief wash over him, knowing that he had been given a second chance to make things right. And as he closed the door behind him, he vowed to do whatever it took to earn back Y.N's trust and forgiveness,
Taking a deep breath, he began to speak, his voice trembling with emotion.
"Y.N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his words coming out in a rush. "Alys has been-she's been bombarding me with messages. She told me she was pregnant."
Y.N's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the gravity of Aemond's words. "Pregnant?" she whispered; her voice barely audible.
Aemond nodded, his expression grim. "Yes," he continued, his voice heavy with regret. "But I demanded a DNA test. I couldn't-I couldn't just take her word for it. And she kept refusing, insisting that the baby was mine."
Y.N's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears as the full weight of Aemond's confession settled over her like a dark cloud. "Oh, Aemond," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I-I don't know what to say."
Aemond reached out to take her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I'm so sorry, Y.N," he whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "I should have told you sooner. I should have been honest with you from the start."
“Yes you should have” replied Y.N.
"I refused to believe Alys," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. "So, I kept insisting on a DNA test. She resisted at first, but eventually, she agreed."
Y.N's eyes widened in realization, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as she understood the gravity of Aemond's revelation. "That was the day I saw you with her," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aemond nodded, his heart heavy with remorse. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry, Y.N. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just trying to protect myself, to make sure that I wasn't being manipulated by Alys."
Y.N's mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions as she processed Aemond's revelation. The image of Alys kissing him, coupled with the news of her pregnancy, had led her to assume the worst – that Aemond was the father of Alys's unborn child.
"Aemond," she began tentatively, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Does-does that mean you're the father?"
Aemond's expression hardened, his jaw set with determination as he shook his head vehemently. "No, the DNA wasn’t a match" he declared firmly. "I'm not the father, Alys kissing me was just her last desperate attempt to try and manipulate me."
Y.N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a wave of relief washing over her as the weight of uncertainty lifted from her shoulders. "Oh, Aemond," she breathed, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'm so glad to hear that."
Aemond reached out to take her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I would never betray your trust like that, Y.N," he vowed earnestly. "You mean everything to me, and I would do anything to prove that to you. I love you"
Tears welled up in Y.N's eyes as she looked into Aemond's eye, seeing the sincerity and love shining brightly within them. "I know, Aemond," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "And I forgive you."
But Aemond wasn't finished yet. With trembling hands, he held up a soggy cardboard box, the remnants of his failed attempt at making her a cake. "I even tried to make you a cake," he confessed, his voice laced with self-deprecation. "But it's all ruined now."
Y.N couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the ruined cake, her heart swelling with affection for the man standing before her. With a playful grin, she knocked the box out of his hand, sending it tumbling to the ground, before throwing herself into his arms and kissing him passionately.
"Aemond," she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with love and gratitude. "I love you too."
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As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Aemond and Y.N's relationship blossomed anew, their love growing stronger with each passing day.
And as they stood side by side, hand in hand, they knew that they never wanted to be apart again. So, after much discussion and deliberation, they made the decision to take the next step in their journey together – they would move in together.
With excited hearts and eager anticipation, Aemond and Y.N began the process of finding their perfect home, a place where they could build a life together filled with love, laughter, and countless cherished memories.
And when they finally found the perfect apartment, with its cozy rooms and sunlit windows, they knew that it was meant to be. With smiles on their faces and love in their hearts, they signed the lease and began the process of making their new house a home.
With their love blossoming stronger each day, Aemond felt the time was right to take their relationship to the next level. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y.N, and he couldn't wait another moment to make her his forever.
So on a crisp autumn evening, with the setting sun casting a warm glow over the world, Aemond led Y.N to his favourite spot in the park. As they walked hand in hand, their laughter floating on the gentle breeze, Aemond's heartbeat with nervous anticipation.
Reaching a secluded clearing surrounded by trees ablaze with fiery hues, Aemond paused, his heart racing with emotion. Taking a deep breath, he got down on one knee, his eyes shining with love as he looked up at Y.N.
"Y.N," he began, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."
Y.N's eyes widened in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth in shock as she realized what was happening. Tears welled up in her eyes as she listened to Aemond's words, her heart overflowing with love for the man who stood before her.
"And so," Aemond continued, his voice trembling with emotion, "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Y.N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"
The words hung in the air; the silence broken only by the sound of their hearts beating as one. And then, finally, Y.N's eyes filled with tears of joy as she threw herself into Aemond's arms, laughter bubbling up from deep within her soul.
"Yes, Aemond," she cried, her voice ringing out with pure happiness. "Yes, I will marry you!"
And as they stood together in the golden light of the setting sun, their hearts overflowing with love and happiness, Aemond slipped a beautiful ring onto Y.N's finger, sealing their love with a promise that would last a lifetime.
313 notes · View notes
ahummingbirdwitch · 9 months ago
Text
Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader)
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Summary: After a long day, you find yourself in need of some relief, and who better to fantasize about than the agent you're crushing on?
Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3,639
Warnings: female masturbation, vaginal fingering, sexual fantasy, p in v sex, voyeurism
Notes: Welp. The masked man wormed his way into my brain and made me write this. I've never played Valorant and I'm not super well-versed on the lore, but I did my best to work off of what I know and existing theories about Cypher and his past!
I fantasize about it all the time
If you were mine
I’d give this pussy to you 9 to 5
5 to 9…
~ ~ ~
You collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.
Freshly showered and sore from a hard day’s work, nothing sounded better than curling up in your quiet room and getting some well-deserved rest. And, if you were being honest, there was something else you’d been meaning to do; something that could very well relieve you the most—and calm your restless mind.
For the last month since you’d joined Valorant, you’d met many agents, each one captivating in their own right. But one agent in particular had captivated you the most.
Cypher.
The masked man from Morocco, the information broker whose face had never been seen by anyone in the agency. Every agent in Valorant had secrets, but Cypher had the most by far. He was enigmatic, impossibly clever, and seemed to know everything about everyone. He’d known you by name before you’d even introduced yourself to him, and in the short time you’d been with the agency, you’d become more than familiar with his ways—the little things he remembered about others, the watchful eye he kept on his fellow agents. No one knew anything about him other than his real name—Amir El-Amari—and his unwillingness to reveal his identity to anyone.
He was a complete mystery, and he had drawn you in completely.
You remembered your first meeting with him clearly. He’d been standing to one side of the room, nonchalant with arms folded, and said your full name before you’d spoken it yourself. You’d been stunned at first, but before you could turn accusatory, he had laughed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had then uncrossed his arms enough to wave to you with one hand. Despite the mask that concealed his features, the look on his face had seemed almost gentle. “I am Cypher. Pleased to meet you.”
Your initial shock had faded, replaced with something else—something you couldn’t quite understand at the time, something that made your heart thrum unexpectedly in your chest. And that strange feeling, you’d realize in the coming weeks, would only grow stronger.
On missions, you were often put on the same team as Cypher, and you’d come to know him more than you thought you would. At least, you’d come to know the side he showed to others. He was polite, easygoing, frequently cracking jokes and making fun wherever he could. He liked to stimulate his brain, particularly with chess and gadgeteering. He kept a level head in times of crisis, acting as a leader when necessary. He always had the team’s back, and, perhaps surprisingly, he was kind.
It would’ve been easy for you to write him off as a trickster, a spy who cared for no one but himself, who had no regard for anyone’s privacy. While it was true that he knew more than he should, and sometimes intruded on his allies’ personal lives, you’d learned quickly that he was not an uncaring man—far from it, in fact. He was never rude or crass. His jokes had no cruelty behind them. He was an attentive listener, occasionally even providing advice. It was clear he had boundaries, and there were lines he would never cross, despite his line of work.
You’d wondered endlessly about his past. There was so much about himself he kept hidden, so much you wanted desperately to know. What kind of life had he known before joining the agency? How could he be so secretive, yet so considerate? What kind of pain had he experienced? Had he had a family before? Who was Nora?
You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. There were so many questions you wished you could ask him, but you knew he would never answer them. He was a mystery, one you might never unravel.
In spite of all that, though, you’d fallen for him.
It wasn’t wise to have feelings for your fellow agent, especially one like Cypher, but there was no denying it, and no helping it. Your heart jumped whenever he entered a room, and fluttered at the sound of his voice. You went out of your way just to try and impress him on missions, always keeping as close to him as you could. You savored those brief moments where your eyes would lock with his, or his hand might make contact with yours when passing you a weapon. Your spirit soared whenever you made him laugh, and you were always thinking of all the ways you could make him do it again.
It was probably the hardest you’d ever crushed on someone, and it was torture.
It was bad enough you both worked together, but on top of that, you were sure Cypher would never want you. He would never reveal his identity to anyone, let alone you. He was older, and had been with the agency far longer. He was always busy, caught up in an assignment or working away at something alone in his room. And then there was Nora, a name you’d heard him utter once or twice under his breath. Curious, you’d asked around about her; some agents theorized she was his wife, either dead or simply no longer around. There was no way you could know for certain, but whoever she was, it was clear he was still hung up on her.
You closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, you just needed to let go.
Climbing under the covers, you laid back against your pillow, then carefully slid your panties down to your ankles. Spreading your legs, you lifted one hand, guiding it tentatively between them. You swallowed, feeling the same anxiety you’d felt the last time you’d done this. This still felt so dirty, so wrong, but when you pictured Cypher in your mind, blue eyes glowing against the black of his mask, you felt yourself start to relax. You rarely did this, but tonight, you needed it.
Slowly, you eased your hand lower, and let your imagination take control.
You were pressed back against a wall, Cypher standing over you. You couldn’t read his expression, but the desire in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I want you,” he murmured, gazing down at you. “Right now.”
Your fingers found your entrance, already slick from just those few words. Biting your lip, you teased your slit.
Cypher brought his hand to your face, stroking your lower lip with a gloved thumb. You opened your mouth for him instinctively, and he chuckled. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I?”
You nodded without question. “Y-Yes.”
His eyes gleamed. With his free hand, he reached for the bottom of his mask, pulling it up just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips curled into a smirk, then he was moving forward and kissing you all at once.
Your thumb brushed your clit, and you began to rub at it, continuing to tease your opening with your fingers.
Cypher’s kiss was shockingly fierce, and utterly mind-numbing. Moving his hands to your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the gasp that rose from your throat. You met his tongue with your own, kissing him back with matching fervor.
Thumb still working your clit, you dipped the tip of one finger inside your entrance. You needed more; you needed to speed this up.
In the blink of an eye, Cypher had unzipped your pants and pushed them down. Trailing kisses down your neck, he used his fingers—inexplicably ungloved—to caress your clothed pussy. “Oh, what’s that?” he said with interest. “Seems someone is wet for me.”
You grasped at his coat. “Cypher. Please.”
You felt him grin against your neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purred. “I know what you want.” Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger under the hem of your panties, then plunged it inside you.
At the same time, you parted your folds with your own finger, pushing it in deep. You let out a soft moan when you curled it inside you, finding that familiar sweet spot.
Cypher sucked on your ear, pumping his finger in and out of you. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “What pretty sounds.”
You whimpered.
“Make some more for me.”
You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself.
“Dirty girl,” he teased. “So wet already and I’ve barely started.”
You clenched around your finger. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of your pleasure muffled only slightly by the covers. Just as you prepared to add a second finger, you decided to speed things along once more.
You were completely naked now, while Cypher was still clothed (you realized you’d never seen even a hint of his skin, but that didn’t matter). His pants undone at the waist, he hoisted you up by your thighs, hitching them around him as he pressed into you. “Come here,” he growled before pushing inside you swiftly.
You arched your back, grinding against your palm as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. How big was he? Fuck, he had to be big. Even if he wasn’t, though, you wouldn’t care. You just wanted him. You needed him.
Cypher groaned into your ear, starting slow with his thrusts, then fucking up into you like an animal. “So tight,” he gasped. “Oh, so tight for me.”
You were moaning more than ever now, losing yourself to the feeling of being full. You wished you could hear him moan with you, feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss those lips. See his face. He was so handsome under that mask, you were sure of it.
Cypher bit down on your neck, forcing you to cry out. “Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed when he came up for air. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”
You threw your head back, moans falling from your open mouth. “Cy… Cypher…”
“Call me by my name, my love.”
Your body jerked, reacting to his voice in a way you couldn’t even control. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “A-Amir, please—”
“Just like that,” he whispered, gripping your thighs harder. “Yes. I know you’re close.”
You were. Two fingers knuckle-deep and your thumb at your clit, you were ready to burst. Just a little more, and you’d be right there, right there. “A-Amir,” you pleaded. “I—I need you—”
“I need you to cum,” he panted. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”
“Mm—mhm,” was all you could get out, ferociously rubbing at your clit. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything right now. These walls weren’t thin, but you wouldn’t give a shit if they were. You didn’t even care if Cypher himself had mics in your walls, and he could hear every sound you were making. You just needed him. You needed to cum.
Cypher leaned in, panting like a dog, thrusting into you even harder and faster. “Cum for me,” he breathed. “Cum for me now.”
That was all you needed. The cord within you snapped and your vision went starry. You shut your eyes as you came, whining uncontrollably. “Cy—Cypher,” you blurted out, moaning long and loud. You couldn’t stop the words from escaping you. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”
You continued to moan as you rode out your orgasm, keeping your fingers still deep inside while your body spasmed with pleasure. By the time you could feel yourself calming, the trembling in your limbs fading to a dull buzz, you were unsure how much time had passed. You felt utterly numb, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you caught your breath.
You exhaled, leaning back against your pillow. You did feel better. Touching yourself to the thought of Cypher had brought you relief—just like you’d wanted. There was still a part of you that felt guilt, felt dirty at what you’d done, but you suppressed it.
No one knew, and no one would know. Cypher kept so many secrets, why couldn’t you keep this one for yourself?
You got up and washed your hands, then brushed your teeth and returned to bed. You nestled deep under the covers, closing your eyes as you prepared for sleep to take you. You’d worked hard today. You deserved to rest.
As you drifted off, you completely forgot that you’d confessed your love to the Cypher in your mind.
~~~
Elsewhere, in a secluded room in the dormitory, Cypher was wide awake.
Unmasked, and dressed only in light clothes, he sat at his desk in the darkness, watching the cameras as he did every night. There was a single camera for each Valorant agent, along with its own mic and recording device, positioned in the most secure, hidden place possible in every individual room. He recognized the invasiveness of it. He didn’t take pleasure in keeping tabs on his allies in this way, but it was necessary. He would do all he could to ensure he kept the upper hand, even if it meant spying on those he considered his friends. He had been through too much to let anyone take advantage of him.
For some time now, he had been scanning the cameras, studying each agent as they wound down for the night, and something in particular had caught his eye.
You.
You, coming out of your bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. The moment he’d noticed you in your state of undress, he’d averted his gaze, waiting for you to either leave the frame or cover yourself up. When you’d finally crawled into bed, he’d been content to turn his attention to other screens, but then your mic had picked up some… telling audio.
You’d started to touch yourself.
Cypher was not a stranger to the female body. He’d been with women, been married to one. Countless times, he’d been at his desk and witnessed female agents—and male agents, for that matter—masturbate. Whenever it happened, he always turned away, often shutting off their mics as well to at least give them some extra privacy. Some agents did it more frequently than others, and he had even grown accustomed to their routines for it. But you…
Well… you didn’t do it very often, that was for certain.
You were new to the agency. Young, spry, full of confidence. When he’d first met you, he was sure he knew exactly what you’d be like. He knew your type—hell, plenty of the better-established younger agents were just like you. But in all honesty, in the month since your arrival, he’d learned there was more to you than met the eye. He was surprised to still be peeling back layers of your personality even now, when normally, he would have had someone thoroughly pinned down. There was always new information to be drawn from others, yes, but even so, you continued to intrigue him.
Cypher had heard you touch yourself only once or twice before; only faint noises coming from your bathroom had made him aware of the act. He’d been certain that the next time you did it, you would do it in the same place, but for some reason, you had chosen your bed instead tonight. As was your right, certainly. But regardless, he had not been expecting it.
He’d shut off your mic without thinking, lingering on the image of you in your bed for just a heartbeat before quickly tearing his eyes away. There was something about this that unsettled him, made him uncomfortable in a way that was unfamiliar. There was nothing unnatural to him about masturbation; he did it himself, when he was most in need of it. But something about seeing you do it—you, his sweet, sincere teammate—made him feel almost… ashamed. Like he was violating you.
He understood the necessity of keeping an eye on the agency, knowing he could never fully turn off the cameras in the rooms, but for whatever reason, he wished he could turn yours off now, at least for a little while. He didn’t want to see you in such a vulnerable state. He didn’t want to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory, imagine what sounds you could be making…
Cypher rubbed his eyes now, blinking rapidly as he cleared his thoughts. He had to focus. He had to make sure everyone was asleep before he too allowed himself to rest. He would wait until you finished.
But then… how could he be sure when you would finish if he couldn’t hear you?
A strange feeling nagging at him, he turned back to your screen. Though your lower body was concealed by your covers, he could see your movements underneath, and could see clearly what you were doing. No doubt, you were fingering yourself.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He kept watching, unable to look away from your mouth, ever opening and closing. You were still muted, but he didn’t need audio to know you were moaning. Of course you were. Everyone did when they self-pleasured. But then, unexpectedly, he saw you form a word.
No—a name.
A name? Whose name? Questions flooded his mind. If you were uttering someone’s name in this state, did that mean you had… feelings for them? Was it an agent? Was it someone on the outside?
Cypher tried not to dwell on it. This was your business; your moment of privacy. It didn’t matter to him whether you had feelings for someone, agent or not. It was nothing. It was just—information. Useless information—right?
But then again, if he had it… maybe he could use it.
Before he could change his mind, he turned the audio back on. A second later, his heart dropped when he heard you moan out.
“Cy… Cypher…”
He froze, staring at your screen. No, it couldn’t be…
“A-Amir… A-Amir, please—”
Cypher couldn’t believe his ears. It was… him. It was him you were crying out for. You’d even said his real name—he’d never heard you say it out loud before.
He didn’t understand. You wanted him? Why? Out of everyone in Valorant, why him?
Had he missed something, all those times he had gone on missions with you? He had noticed your enthusiasm when in proximity to him, your noteworthy eagerness to follow his orders, but he had never considered it out of the ordinary. He had always just thought of you as a dutiful agent, eager to prove yourself and gain respect from your more seasoned teammates. Was that not the case? Was the truth that you’d been interested in him all this time?
Your voice severed him from his trance. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “I—I need you—”
Cypher shifted in his seat, a sudden discomfort between his legs. His name sounded foreign your lips, and yet… sweet. He’d never thought he’d hear you say it, but more than that, hear you say you needed him. You couldn’t mean that. You weren’t thinking—too caught up in your own pleasure. You couldn’t possibly know what you were saying.
He could tell you were getting more desperate now, your hand moving faster under the covers. You had to be close. You gasped, shutting your eyes, then all at once you were coming undone, and he couldn’t look away.
“Cy—Cypher,” you cried out, catching him off-guard. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”
Cypher could hardly think as he watched you unravel before him on the screen, your words ringing in his ears.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
The only explanation was that you had lost yourself. Why else would you say something as bold as that without thinking? You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him.
There was nothing about him you could possibly want. He guarded his secrets more fiercely than anyone. He was so reserved, staying out of the limelight whenever he could. He’d kept his identity hidden for years, carefully cultivating the persona he would allow people to see. You’d never even seen his face.
And yet… it was his name you’d uttered when you came. It seemed you had fallen for him anyway.
No. No… you hadn’t. It wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him, and you certainly didn’t love him. Love was knowing someone, knowing all of their secrets and foulest parts. It was something deep and potent, and only grew with time. It was what he’d had with Nora, before he’d lost her and everything else.
You had not been in your right mind, that much was certain. Maybe you liked him, liked the person he presented himself as, but you didn’t know him. No one did, and no one truly would. He liked you, but… well, not like that. How could he? He was a broken old man, and you were young and lovely, still with hope for the world…
No. No, that wasn’t right.
It didn’t matter. You would go to sleep now, drowsy in the aftermath of your climax, and so would he. You would not remember your confession in the morning. He would, but he would not let it consume him.
This was… nothing. He was sure of it.
Cypher began to rise from his chair, only to be made aware of the painful hardness in his pants. He grimaced, looking back up at your camera. You were wrapped up in your covers, already asleep. You looked so innocent. Peaceful.
… Beautiful.
He hung his head, running one hand through his hair. Oh, sweet girl, he thought. What are you doing to me?
(LET ME KNOW IF Y'ALL WANT A PART 2)
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biblio-smia · 11 months ago
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“sharing a pillow and waking up with their faces only centimetres apart“ with clapton davis <3 maybe if it could be like a long time crush thing and they had to share a bed at a sleepover or something? idk whatever u feel like!! tyy :)
this is so cute i got kind of carried away,, enjoy! | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!
riley jones's birthday bash is less of an extravaganza and more of an excuse to sit around with your friends and eat too much junk food. it's not some crazy party but you all like it better that way, joking and laughing under a pile of blankets in the living room with a forgotten movie in the background. riley's birthday presents sit in the corner in a mess of gift bags and tissue paper. party hats were scattered around the room, left wherever they were taken off after the tight elastic became too unbearable (you could still spot some marks under a few chins).
it takes the clock to strike 10:38 and for ione to start dozing off on riley's shoulder for her to call for the sleepover portion of the party. you all file in to riley's room to retrieve the overnight bags you'd left in there at the beginning of the night, taking turns for the bathroom.
by the time everyone has changed into their pajamas, ione is insisting that she's awake enough for a few party games like had been originally planned.
the three of you comply, though not without a few teasing comments thrown ione's way.
the four of you sit in a circle with a card game spread out in front of you, though the competitiveness has died down as the game went on and no one is taking it too seriously anymore.
"wait, wait, wait," ione stops in the middle of her turn, her head resting on riley's shoulder as she reads the text riley's just gotten over her shoulder. "why is sander im'ing you right now?"
this captures your and clapton's attention. "dude, you still haven't blocked him?" you ask riley exasperatedly.
"well, i feel bad!"
"i don't," ione says, grabbing riley's phone. she doesn't actually hit any buttons on riley's phone, but she keeps it safe in her lap.
"he still seriously thinks he has a chance with you, riley." you reach over clapton's legs to steal some of the chips he had been eating. "it's getting kind of concerning."
"he's not that bad," clapton chimes in, leaning back on his elbows.
"you don't hear him in english," you groan.
"he's the worst," ione agrees before turning back to riley. "you're stronger than me.
"he is pretty annoying," clapton admits, glancing back at you before looking at the cards in front of him. "hey, whose turn was it?"
cards get thrown into the middle when no one can quite remember and you begin to stack them into one pile while everyone keeps talking.
"are you guys ready to sleep?" riley asks, raising her arms to stretch.
"what? no!" ione protests right before yawning.
you all laugh at her while she rolls her eyes.
the four of you squeeze very unnecessarily into riley's narrow bathroom to brush your teeth, practically shoulder to shoulder with each other. you're focusing on not elbowing anyone when clapton puts his head on your shoulder.
"cap-ton!" you groan around your toothbrush. "ef you geh toofpaste on me...!"
clapton only flashes you a threatening blue-foam grin, so you pause your brushing to flick him on the forehead. thankfully, he's off of you to spit out the toothpaste in his mouth - no longer having the chance to make your stomach queasy.
riley and ione slip into riley's room but riley comes back with an armful of extra pillows, accompanying you and clapton to the living room. you let clapton do the work of picking up the mess you'd all made earlier, splitting the weight of the coffee table with riley as you move it. riley pulls out the bottom of the big couch she has until it has extended into a mattress that she decorates with a gray fitted sheet.
"okay," riley huffs as she emerges victorious from her fight with the mattress. "do you two need any more blankets?"
you glance at the huge pile the four of you have left sprawled all over the couch. "i think we're good."
ione emerges into the living room, twisting the final pieces of a loose braid together, wearing one of riley's hoodies.
it is a little cold now that the sun has set and there aren't as many people in the living room but you're sure you'll be fine after a blanket or two.
"goodnight!" riley and ione both call with a wave, ione wrapping her arms around riley's back as they head back into her room.
you wave back with a smile until they can't see anymore, yawning as you turn back to clapton.
"okay," you say, stifling a second one. "you're sleeping on the floor."
clapton scoffs. "what? there's not even enough space for me to!"
you shrug, even though clapton is right, fluffing one of the pillows riley gave you before dropping onto it tiredly.
"you go on one end, i'll stay on the other." clapton stands at the opposite edge, pillow in hand like a kid. "please?"
"fine." your voice is monotone but your heart beats wildly; you're worried that clapton will be able to hear it if he gets too close.
you can see him from your peripheral; when he disappears, you can feel him sink in next to you.
the opposite ends idea is a joke. you can feel clapton's arm right next to yours. there's probably only a few inches of space between the two of you, and that was being generous.
"move your head," clapton groans, trying to get comfortable.
"get your own pillow!"
"there's no space."
you sigh but comply, sitting up to split the pillow evenly between the two of you.
"thank you," clapton mumbles, twisting around in his spot.
he's even closer now, his shoulder practically bumping yours. his fingers are dangerously close to yours and it's incredibly late in the night; a few seconds longer like this and you might do something stupid like hold his hand. you can see clapton's chest rise and fall softly from your peripheral. he's not asleep yet; you're worried he might try to talk to you.
you force your eyes to stop trying to steal glances at him and will your body to roll over, back to clapton. he seems to have the same idea, turning around with his back to you.
there had been something there, undoubtedly - it had scared both of you and sent you both spiraling to think of anything other than each other.
"goodnight," you manage to hear clapton vaguely mumble. you lean over momentarily, just to shove his shoulder lightly.
"goodnight."
fortunately, you're asleep almost instantly.
unfortunately, sleep does not guarantee any escape from clapton davis.
your eyes flutter open, sunlight too obnoxious and you slowly blink the haziness in your eyes away. the first thing you see is clapton's face, eye level with yours. his eyes are shut and you notice how long his eyelashes are. the next thing you notice are the light spread of freckles adorning his skin.
you don't make any moves to get up, only vaguely aware of your proximity to clapton in your eighty-per-cent-asleep state.
you watch shamelessly as his eyes slowly open unnaturally, in a way that tells you he was already awake. the two of you lie there, unmoving, staring. you watch as clapton's eyes take in your eyes, your nose, stop at your lips for a second too long. you're looking at his hair, a little messy from the night, and you wonder if clapton tosses and turns a lot in his sleep.
you don't have a chance to think about it, or about the implications of clapton pretending to be asleep once he heard the pattern of your breathing change as you woke up, as ione's voice calls out from somewhere behind you.
"are you guys finally awake? we've been up forever. we have breakfast ready!"
that gets you moving, the smells from the kitchen finally beginning to waft to your nose. you throw the blankets on top of you off and clapton follows you closely as you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth.
"go' mornin," clapton says from around his toothbrush.
"good morning," you repeat after you've spit some out into the sink.
meanwhile, the two girls you've left behind in the kitchen stare at the photo ione has taken, giggling quietly.
"oh, they'll definitely be dating by next week," riley scoffs.
ione grins, pocketing her phone as she hears you kick clapton out of the bathroom. "wanna bet?"
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hell-drabbles · 8 months ago
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Lucifer and Ra-on 2
Summary: Lucifer storms into the room, demanding you take out the thing that crawled into his wing wounds. Ra-on, after Lucifer warned him never to touch his wings, had to watch because he had a hard time believing how much this devil trusts you.
(More of Ra-on not getting what he wants and the Embittered Companion just having a life outside of Ra-on, and him being shocked when he sees that. I really like exploring that insidious feeling of someone else getting what he wants, and how much more enticing that other thing becomes because he's not getting it. It's also heavy handed symbolism that Ra-on is getting all the other devils but hasn't gotten close to a single healer class devil, because Ra-on refuses to travel the road of self-healing in favor of over-indulgence. It's not clever but oh well! Meanwhile, Embittered Companion gets along with these healers really well. Actually likes them a whole lot, shockingly enough.)
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The first time Ra-on brushed over the stained feathers of Lucifer's missing wings, he was very sure that his head was seconds from being ripped off had he not retracted his hand. That voice, that warning, Lucifer spoke in a hiss to him. It was a line that Ra-on had crossed and, for his sake, Ra-on promised him he won't do that again. He never wants to make any of his lovers uncomfortable if he can't help it. They deserve that happiness, because the devils all make Ra-on feel so happy and loved with the way they all worshiped his body.
But, he will admit, Ra-on felt a little disappointed that he couldn't explore the constantly bleeding wound. That light touch was enough to leave a memory of silky smooth feathers and cute downy fluff. It was strange that anyone would have limits here in Hell. At most, devils would raise an eyebrow and probably cringe a bit but they usually go along with Ra-on with a bit of insistence. But, well, from what he gathered, Lucifer was raised an angel, so he supposed there would be many differences, despite his current status as a demon.
And, well, Ra-on was given a strict and hard no. Perhaps, in the future when they get to know one another better, when he fully integrates into Hell and the war has finally been put to a stop, Ra-on will get to feel those feathers again. Perhaps he'll be the only one to be able to touch them. That sounds nice, to have Lucifer eventually trust him like that.
But first Ra-on has to learn to control his fear towards him. Become more confident and have patience with Lucifer, so that he may eventually open up to him fully, as everyone else does.
"Hmm, you need something?" You asked as you turned from your seat, Ra-on nearly sucking the coffee into his lungs at Lucifer's appearance.
The dark sclera threatened to consume his iris, his jaw stiff and lips nearly bleeding. The sigh that escaped him made Ra-on's legs lock up, but his eyes can't help but wrack over the disheveled wear of Lucifer's clothes. The sleeves slid down his arms, exposing his wide shoulders, pants exposing the deep v of his hips, and he wasn't wearing any shoes.
Ra-on couldn't breathe, seized by this fearsome yet tantalizing sight.
But you... You always held yourself together no matter how beautiful the devil or angel may be, no matter how terrifying. Because Ra-on was there. Because you always felt you had to be the stronger one for the sake of him and Minhyeok.
"What's up?" You got up, instinctively walking into Ra-on's line of sight. He tried to look around you, but he didn't want to risk squeaking his chair. "You're not looking right. Something bothering you again?"
Right, right you've been talking to Lucifer more and more. You like your space and so does he. And when the noises become too much, you both drift off into the distance, until the both of you end up going to the same place.
You'd know what's wrong with him better than Ra-on could. He's still too scared of him.
Lucifer breathed in then hissed, "Something is in my wings. Wriggling. Moving. Get it out of me, please."
And the hiss ends with a plea. Only then did Ra-on remember to breath. It wasn't something he or you did, Lucifer just had something in his wings that was probably giving him pain. Or discomfort? Because he's seen him nap on his back and that didn't seem to bother him.
"Told you not to nap in the garden," you finally moved away to make room for Lucifer to move in, looking tired as though this wasn't the first time. Wait... It wasn't, was it? "Alright, get over here. Get on the bed. I'll get the tweezers."
As soon as Lucifer flopped over on your bed, Ra-on shot up to his feet and followed you to the bathroom attached to the side.
"Wait," he grabbed your elbow, "are going to be touching his wings?"
"Hmm? Yeah, he asked." You plucked his hand off and shifted through the drawers to find those tweezers. You found them and squeezed then together with little clicks. "He gets stuff stuck in there all the time. He really should wrap those up if he wants them to stay clean. Why?"
Wait.
"You touched them already?" When? How? If Lucifer was this close to to taking his head off, how come you're not injured? "And he didn't hurt you?"
"If he did, I would've slammed the door in his face," you quickly washed the tweezers, "He was pretty close though, that first time, but that's because he wasn't prepared. Even though he was the one that asked."
You're saying that you've touched them but, somehow, Ra-on has a hard time believing it. A simple brush against his feather was enough to anger Lucifer, and now you're going to be digging into the wounds as though you won't be ripped to shreds? Just, how?
Sure, you've been spending more time with Lucifer by sheer coincidence, but wouldn't it make more sense for Ra-on to be able to be close to his wings by now? Lucifer has been asking for him to visit. So, so...
Ra-on doesn't get it. So he had to watch.
He watched you brush past him, he followed you and stood in the middle of the room. He watched as you flicked on the table lamp and aimed it at Lucifer's bleeding stumps. You opened another drawer and pulled out a pair of disposable gloves, as though this happens to often, you have to keep the box close. Ra-on watched as you sat on your bed.
Lucifer didn't flinch, but he saw the tightening of his shoulder muscles, watched the way they flexed and tightened under his skin. Ra-on wished he was close enough to lick it, wished he could sooth his hands over his back, but he can't, because that isn't what he should be focusing on.
He has to see if what you say is true, if Lucifer has truly been asking you to get deep into wings to clean them out when Ra-on can't even get close to them.
"Alright, which stump is it this time? Or is it both?" You asked as you tugged his shirt lower, exposing his wings further.
Lucifer lifted his head from your pillow he was stuffing his face in. Was he taking in your smell? No, that can't be it. That's just silly. He was just getting comfy and the pillow is the closest thing. "The right one. Get it out."
"Hold still a moment," you adjusted the light and finally got to work. You placed your tweezers on his lower back and started your search. You moved the feathers away and Lucifer clenched his whole body, but otherwise did nothing. You pushed lightly against the bone to look further into the wound and all he did was push his face into your pillow.
And when your fingers dug in deep and stretched the wound open, when your hands brushed against an open artery and gushed out blood, Ra-on heard the sound of Lucifer tearing fabric with his teeth with a pain filled hiss.
"There it is," you said, voice a little dull, as though this wound was something you're used to seeing, "A big sucker too. Alright hold still."
You got your tweezer and dove right in. After a few twists, your hand popped out and revealed what looked to be a huge fly. Bigger than any other housefly Ra-on has ever seen. It buzzed and squirmed around, using it hairy limbs to try and pry itself from your tweezers.
Ra-on gagged and couldn't stand to look at it. He closed his eyes.
"You want to crush it?" You asked.
Ra-on didn't hear a response, he only heard a muffled crunch.
"Gross."
"...thank you. I couldn't get it out on my own," Lucifer's voice soothed over his ears, colored in the peace of relief.
"No problem, buddy. Just, put a blanket on or something, it's the third time this week."
"Hmm," Ra-on opened his eyes to catch his smile. A smile aimed at you. A smile from your bed as he continued to lay there, "I could nap here. Then all bugs have no choice but to stay away, right?"
"Yeah that's how rooms work," you chuckled and smacked his arm, marking his skin with his own blood, "Sleep in your own bed, man. I only have one."
...you really gotten closer to him. You can touch what he can't. And Lucifer... He can talk to you in the way he can't.
On the back of his tongue, Ra-on tasted bitterness.
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago
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okay fr what do you think scara is like in bed? what’s he into, what’re his kinks, the whole shebang?
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modern scaramouche hc's
✭ tags ; sub!chara, dom!reader (they bottom but parts are unspecificed so gn!reader as well), this is also my modern!scaramouche take so just be aware, bratting, rough sex, slapping, hitting, a lil degradation, reader is v careful abt scaramouches boundaries tho, romantic implications reader is stronger than scara + he is short king, etc
✭ wc ; 2.1k (im soooo ashamed. anon im so sorry)
✭ a/n ; this got so out of hand so quickly. this is my personal scaramouche this has nothing to do with anyone but me and my delusions sorry in advance.
like really. cant describe how subjective this is but i also refuse to change my mind or see him any other way. thank u so much for inquiring
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my modern scaramouche is usually aged like. 20-something in college. he goes to a nice university (a very competitive school mind you.) he was really concerned about excelling for like most of his hs career. kind of a loner except tartaglia who adopted him into his friend group.
he panics about his degree for the longest time cause he doesn't know what to do - but settles on civil architecture and minors in fine art.
he has his ears pierced and some other piercings too that he was peer pressured into, but overall likes how they look. he's not usually very dressed up and all of his closet is so oversized because comfort > fashion BUT he never looks like a slob either.
has like 3 other friends on campus (kazuha + mona + childe who somehow followed him there)
complicated relationship with his mom + stepmom (he doesn't hate her but they do not communicate so tons of misunderstandings between them. like sooo many)
and. usually not actively looking to date anyone ever. he had like one crush one time in highschool but chickened out so miserably and SEETHED about it the whole time.
after that he swore to never, ever, ever go back to that dark place and sort of just focused on his career and school. his major is pretty difficult so it takes a lot of his time
plus he's a little pretentious, stuck up little shit so only a few people can handle him in the first place.
anyways. u meet through tartaglia who thinks you two will get along really well (and he's trying to set you both up bc he thinks you two could work well together)
its honestly like oil and water. you're personality just rubs him the wrong way. sure childe is annoying, but he's stupid
you're...not stupid. you're kind of clever and you treat him with like. a sense of disrespect he hates. scaramouche is used to people who let him have the upperhand
but you're always pretty quick to shoot him down. you never let him him get away with anything and you guys have this like... insane back and forth for months
its the slowest of burns. he swears he hates you.
(he doesn't though. he thinks its really fucking attractive that you talk back to him and don't let him intimidate you ever. but he loathes that feeling. he also loathes how nice your laugh is and how easy it is to talk to you)
scaramouche spends. AGES. ages in denial. closes his eyes to it. its like 6 months deep into it - he starts having wet dreams and he wakes up HORRIFIED with himself.
WORSE? scaramouche knows about your sex life. not through you but through observation and gossip. he's not fucking you in the dreams. you're fucking him.
humiliated, he simply tries to ignore it. but it's making him so much moody than usual and because you two spend so much time together - you notice almost right away. of course you do.
"whats got your panties in a twist lately? not that you're usually sunshine and rainbows but you're acting like a little kid"
scaramouche says something mean. like, really mean in response. he's just so frustrated. its a personal jab, farther than he'd usually go.
he's expecting to sabotage himself you know? he does that sometimes. pushes people away when they get too close. it's a miracle he has any friends. he's expecting you to get annoyed and leave.
but there's this like. chill to your voice. and you're looking straight at him.
"you don't talk to me like that, understand? i don't care how shitty your mood is."
one hit k.o. he can't even breathe. what's wrong with him and what is happening to him, and holy shit why do you sound like that.
"sorry," he apologizes (him. he's apologizing first) "just. frustrating,"
and you immediately slink back to your usual self. and he's relieved and a little excited and just overall restless because he can't stop thinking about what just happened.
"it's fine. i like being on your ass or whatever but it's bothering me that you're so moody. maybe you really do need to get laid,"
the joke is one you often to make. it's meant to lighten the mood. but scaramouche is feeling pent-up and horny and that's kind of exactly what he needs
"s-shut up. it's not like you're going to do it,"
internally he's hoping you take the bait. he is equal parts horrified and excited watching you take in the information. you give him a lazy smile as you sit up and look at him.
"huh. do you...want me to do it?"
oh dear god. oh fuck.
"so what if i did?"
and then you laugh, which he can't decipher. he's gearing himself to be made fun of. he watches you with big wide yes as you come sit on the desk near him. feels your fingers trail his jaw and tilt his head up and holy shit he might really die.
he can barely look up at you.
"is that why you've been acting weird for last couple of weeks?" your voice is so smug and scaramouche is so turned on it's stupid. he hates it. hates himself. hates everything
"shut up,"
and then, you grab his chin. really make him look at you and it's startling but he doesn't pull away. you look gleeful.
"that why you've been running with your tail between your legs when you see me?" you hum, your eyes almost predatory "cause you want me to fuck you?"
its times like this scaramouche he could be honest. because that's exactly what he wants, but he hates having to say it.
"as if you could satisfy me," he says, instead. your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to register it all in your head.
"you're such a fucking brat," you say, light. affectionate, really. it makes his heart pump "you think i can't?"
"i'd like to see you try," he says, absolutely and utterly in disbelief internally. you grin.
"can i kiss you?"
"why're you asking?"
"cause im an asshole, not a villain,"
you and scaramouche makeout in a study room before he decides to to get ahold of himself and invites you into his dorm. he's never been so thankful in his life that his roomate is gone.
when you get scaramouche into bed - it really dawns on him how out of his element he is. he's not a virgin - a few awkward and usually bad hook-ups in his repertoire.
but you're not like them. he's bitey and on edge but you handle him. ask for permission for little things, clarifications for what he's okay with. you're thoughtful, despite how much he's lashing out.
and it's turning scaramouche so much he doesn't know how to handle it other than doing it again. he wants to provoke you so much. he wants to put him in his place over and over.
it's mid makeout he pulls away, frustration all-welled up inside him that he asks. he's hard and needy and needs something to get him off.
"i knew you were all talk," he sneers, putting as much of himself in it as he can "this is nothing,"
you look at him very seriously "you're really asking for it, huh," you say with a sigh "do you know what you're getting into?"
"nothing serious obviously,"
"usually when i deal with brats like you, i treat 'em real rough. im being nice to you cause you're so pent up, but it's like you don't want that," you grab his face again, getting close and personal this time and scaramouche feels like he'll collapse "want me to treat you mean and put you in your place? hit you and make you cry?"
oh it ruins his life. that's exactly what he wants. what he needs from you so much it aches. so much he chokes.
"wh-what the hell are-"
but you make him face forward, look you in your eyes.
"your first lesson is answer me when i talk to you. is that what you want? you can nod if you can't say it,"
so he nods and you laugh.
"yeah? should smack the brat outta you shouldn't i?
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you're asking for permission. despite his everything, there's something affectionate about it. he feels his stomach twist with desire.
"just fucking do it already,"
"tell me if you need to stop,"
"i said—"
it's unceremonious, really. when scaramouche feels the palm of your hands on his cheek, landing heavy and hard as you push him back against the bed. you hit him.
he liked it. makes his cock throb in his fucking jeans, feeling the sting.
"your second lesson is don't fucking mouth at me," you practically spit. there's some roughness in your actions that make scaramouche keen as you crawl on top of him "can't even deal with your moods without lashing out."
scaramouche feels his stomach churn as your hands make rough work of him. you pin his wrists over his head, tell him to keep it there.
and of course he refuses, disobeys - gets to feel how strong you actually are when you spit the words back in his face again to hold fucking still.
scaramouche keeps doing it. keeps pushing until you have to put him back where he belongs forcibly. he doesn't know that he's doing it
but he wants something he can't name, a desire that aches so deep in his chest. he wants you to take responsibility for him - like a promise of some kind.
he likes the way your mouth feels on his skin. your teeth feel so good sinking into pale flesh. the scratch of your nails and sting of your palms as you spank and hit and push his body.
you manhandle him so fucking easily, putting him in every position you can think of. on his knees, or his back - naked and waiting.
you tease scaramouche till he's honest, your voice coarse until he starts giving in.
you're so good with your hands. your fingers, your mouth. you know just the right things to get him all squirmy - praising him when he's getting desperate towards the end.
his sense of shame nowhere to be found as he gets close to the edge. as you tip him over it, he can feel all the tension bleed out of him. goes from bitching, to whiny - needy and not above begging.
he doesn't even understand it. can't wrap his head around it all the way - lets you guide him through the feeling as he starts feeling pliant.
you let him fuck you with mercy. don't make him work for it, just sit on his cock and tell him that he looks so much better when he's all messed up for you and he just. melts completely. like feels like he's gonna fall through the floor.
he cries when he cums. sobs a little as he finally gets relief then melts into your bed like a pile of wet sand as you finish yourself off and overstimulate him a little in the process.
after all is said and done - he falls asleep basically immediately after the high.
when he wakes up the next day - you haven't left. he's like kind of nuzzled up in your arms (which. is wild bc he has always hated physical touch but? apparently not with you)
when you stir awake, you're immediately whistling. you even press a kiss to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face.
"you awake? feel okay?" you hum, so stupidly tender and scaramouche has to fight every urge to push you away.
"im...fine. you're still here," he says unhelpfully. you chuckle.
"yeah. figured you would start spiraling if i left in the middle of the night"
he is horrified at the accuracy.
"it's weird when you're being all...nice to me,"
"its a lot easier since i realize you just wanted to be put in your place," you say with a knowing him. scaramouche elbows you "it's cute, it's cute. don't kill me,"
"you're annoying,"
"yeah, i know. i wiped you down a bit but we should shower and i gotta make sure you're not too hurt anywhere,"
"i'm not a flower,"
"i was bein' pretty rough and its my job to take care of you,"
"why would that be your job?"
"cause im a responsible sexual partner and we're seeing each other, i figure?"
he flushes at the implication. he doesn't want to think about it as he cuddles himself into your side. ugh. whatever.
"who said that?"
"do you want me to see other people?"
"i'll kill you,"
"that's what i thought,"
scaramouche hates it but does not have the confidence to protest you.
scaramouche realizes with the weight of the world on his shoulders that he is the most submissive brat in the fucking world
he decides not to think about it for a while
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