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fear-less · 24 days ago

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 there'll be happiness after you

paring: remus lupin x f!reader x secret marauder

➥ in which, remus breaks up with you and one of his friends (who secretly liked you before you and remus had even gotten together) helps you move on with the break up.

warnings: angst, happy ending, prolly tons of errors..oops, semi rushed, idk what else:3

2.5k words

It was a chilly evening at Hogwarts. The grounds had begun to fall silent as the last few students trickled inside for dinner. You were supposed to be in the Great Hall with your friends, but something had pulled you to the lake instead. The stillness of the water reflected the state of your mind—unsettled, confused, and too tangled to make sense of.

You perched at the edge of the lake, your feet dangling just above the surface. The cool breeze tugged at your hair, but you barely noticed. The ache in your chest was louder than the wind, and every time you tried to distract yourself, your thoughts would return to him: Remus Lupin.

You used to feel so certain about him, about the future the two of you could build together. But now? Now it all seemed so far away, as though it had never really existed. You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to pool behind your eyelids before they fell. Remus had walked away, and in doing so, he had taken with him a part of you. His words echoed in your mind, sharp and bitter: “I’m not good enough for you. You deserve someone who can give you a future.”

You had argued, of course. You’d told him you didn’t care about his past or the darkness that followed him, that you loved him for him—for all of him. But his fears had won, as they always had.

You hadn’t expected to feel so empty.

The day Remus had told you it was over, you felt like you were watching the most beautiful thing you’d ever known slip away in slow motion. The setting sun cast long shadows in the Gryffindor common room as you sat together on the couch, the space between you palpable.

“Y/N, please understand,” Remus had pleaded, his voice soft but firm. “I love you more than I can say, but I can’t keep asking you to love someone like me.”

His words had struck you like a blow to the chest. Your heart had started racing, and your hands had trembled in your lap. “Remus, what do you mean? I want this—us—so badly.”

He had sighed, running a hand through his disheveled brown hair. “I can’t be what you need. I won’t let you waste your life with someone who’s broken.”

You hadn’t been able to stop the tears from falling. “You’re not broken. You’re just... you. I don’t need someone perfect.”

But he had only shaken his head, his eyes filled with regret. “I can’t be the person you deserve. You deserve someone who can be with you, without fear, without secrets. You deserve someone who can love you without hurting you.”

In that moment, something in you had shattered. The love you had felt so sure of—the love you had given him so completely—wasn’t enough to keep him from running. And as you watched him walk away, you felt something break inside you, something that hadn’t been fixed since.

The next few weeks were a blur. You still went to classes, you still spent time with your friends, but everything felt off. Every time you saw Remus, your heart would flutter, only to crash when you remembered that things were different now. He no longer looked at you like he used to, with the warmth and affection you had once seen in his eyes.

And you? You were pretending, trying to fit in with a world that felt too bright, too loud. Your thoughts kept drifting to the past, to all the memories you had built with him, and every time, the hollow ache in your chest grew stronger.

One evening, as you found yourself alone on the grounds again, your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Y/N?”

You glanced up to see James Potter walking toward you. His usual confidence was tempered by the concern in his eyes. “Hey, what’s going on? You’ve been... off lately.”

You offered a faint smile, shrugging. “Just tired, I guess. A lot on my mind.”

James sat beside you, his long legs extending in front of him as he stared at the lake, not pressing you for an answer. It wasn’t that James didn’t know what had happened—it was obvious to everyone—but he never pushed. He just was there.

“You know,” James said casually, breaking the silence, “there’s this little thing called ‘talking about it.’” His tone was teasing, but there was a softness underneath that made your heart ache a little.

“I don’t really know where to start,” you admitted, looking at your hands. “I... I just feel like I gave everything, and now I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

James turned his head to look at you, his brow furrowing. “You’re still you. You’re just a little lost right now.”

You blinked, surprised at his insight. “How do you know?”

James shrugged, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. You just have that look about you. Like you’re carrying something heavy. But you don’t have to carry it alone, Y/N.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. His words, his kindness, made something stir inside of you. It wasn’t love—not yet—but it was something else. Something that felt safe.

“I think I’ve been pretending a little too much,” you said softly. “I’ve been trying to act like I’m fine, but I’m really not.”

James met your gaze, his expression genuine. “It’s okay to not be fine, you know? You don’t have to put on a brave face all the time.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt the tears you’d been holding back threaten to spill over. But James didn’t pull away. He didn’t rush to comfort you, either. He just stayed beside you, steady and calm.

The days passed, and you spent more time with James. It wasn’t romantic at first, not in the way you’d imagined falling for someone. It wasn’t instant sparks and overwhelming chemistry—it was easy, familiar, and comforting.

James never pushed. He let you come to him when you were ready. He’d show up with a cup of tea when you were studying late in the library, or crack a joke when you looked like you were spiraling into your own head. Slowly, you began to feel the tightness in your chest loosen. It wasn’t a fix—it wasn’t a cure—but it was a start.

One evening, as the two of you sat outside on the Quidditch pitch, the cool breeze whipping through your hair, James spoke up.

“You know, I think you’re allowed to feel angry about it all. About Remus.”

You stiffened, surprised. “I don’t want to be angry.”

“I’m not saying you should stay angry forever,” James replied gently. “But you’ve been through a lot. And sometimes, it’s okay to be angry before you can move on.”

You looked at him, his expression open and understanding. It was a rare thing—someone who didn’t shy away from your pain, someone who let you feel what you needed to feel. “I guess you’re right.”

James reaches over and nudges you with his elbow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know, you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, even if you just need someone to listen.”

There was a warmth in his words that made something stir inside of you, something both comforting and unfamiliar. You weren’t sure if it was love yet—but it was a quiet understanding. A connection.

The crisp evening air was filled with the sound of cheers as Gryffindor’s Quidditch team celebrated their victory. James was at the center of the group, his eyes sparkling with excitement, but you found yourself watching him from the sidelines. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed since you last looked at him like this—really looked at him.

The glow of the setting sun reflected off the Quidditch pitch, casting long shadows across the field, and in that moment, something inside you stirred. It wasn’t love—not yet—but it was something more than what you’d ever expected.

James had always been there for you—since the breakup with Remus, since the pain that had felt endless. He never pushed, never tried to fill the empty space that Remus had left. Instead, he simply stayed by your side, offering comfort in small, quiet ways. And over time, you had come to realize that the man standing before you was someone you could trust. Someone you didn’t have to try so hard to impress. Someone who understood without words.

When the last of the cheering died down, James broke away from his teammates, scanning the crowd for you. As his eyes found yours, a smile spread across his face. It was an effortless, warm smile—the kind that made your heart flutter without warning.

"Hey," he said as he jogged up to you, his cheeks flushed from the game, his dark hair sticking out in all directions. "We did it! Did you see that last goal?"

You laughed softly, standing up from where you had been sitting on the stone bench. "I saw it. You were brilliant as always."

He grinned, brushing a hand through his messy hair. "What can I say? I'm a natural." Then his expression softened slightly, and he looked at you more seriously. "But seriously, I’m glad you were here to watch. Means a lot to me."

Something about his words—simple, genuine—struck a chord in you. Your heart swelled, and for the first time in months, the pain you’d carried around seemed to subside, just for a moment.

"I’m glad to be here too, James," you replied, your voice quieter than usual.

James tilted his head slightly, studying you with those warm, brown eyes of his. The playfulness of earlier had faded, replaced by something softer. "Are you okay? You’ve been distant lately. More than usual."

You hesitated. It was easy to say you were fine, but lately, you had begun to realize just how much you had been holding back. The grief. The confusion. The old feelings for Remus that you were still trying to untangle.

"I think... I think I’m starting to be," you said slowly. "Not all the way there, but I’m getting there."

James gave you a half-smile, the kind that showed he wasn’t quite buying it, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he stepped a little closer, his presence warm and steady beside you.

"I’m glad," he said, his voice low. "I’m really glad."

You looked up at him then, and there was something about the way he was looking at you—his face open, without any pretense—that made something inside you click. You didn’t have to force yourself to feel something. With James, you simply were. No expectations, no pressure.

"I didn’t expect this," you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed but also strangely relieved. "You’ve always been there for me, James. Even when I didn’t think I deserved it."

He shook his head, smiling as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "You don’t have to deserve it, Y/N. You’re my friend. And I... I care about you more than you know."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. There was no fanfare, no grand gestures, but in that moment, his honesty was enough.

"You’ve been so patient with me," you whispered, almost to yourself, "and I don’t know what I’d have done without you."

James didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing yours as he gazed at the distant horizon. The silence between you felt comfortable, not awkward. And when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Y/N," he confessed, his tone lighter but carrying an honesty you hadn’t expected. "I know you’ve been through a lot. And I’m not trying to replace Remus or anything. I just..." He paused, his voice growing more serious. "I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever that means."

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. You didn’t know exactly what it meant either, but something was shifting. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe—just maybe—you could start something new. A chapter you hadn’t anticipated, but one that felt right all the same.

Before you could say anything more, James turned to face you, his hand moving as though to catch your eye. "I don’t know what the future holds, Y/N," he said, his voice softer now, "but I want to find out with you. Even if it’s just one step at a time."

You swallowed, feeling an unexpected surge of emotion. All the walls you’d built up in your heart were starting to crumble, piece by piece, and in their place was something both terrifying and beautiful.

"I think I’m ready to take that step," you whispered, meeting his gaze.

James’ face broke into a smile that felt brighter than any Quidditch victory. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you replied, the word tasting like a promise. Not just to him, but to yourself as well.

In the weeks that followed, things changed between you and James—but in the way that felt comfortable, not rushed. There was no sudden confession of love, no dramatic gesture that marked the shift. It was a slow burn, built on late-night conversations, stolen glances, and quiet moments spent together.

James continued to be your rock, but now, there was something else there too—an undercurrent of something more. You caught him looking at you a little longer than before, his smile lingering in a way that made your heartbeat a little faster. And though you still carried the remnants of your past with Remus, you began to see James in a new light, as someone who could help you heal, someone who wasn’t afraid to be patient with you as you learned to love yourself again.

One evening, after studying late in the library, James walked you back to the common room. The firelight flickered from the hearth, casting warm shadows on the stone walls.

"I’m proud of you, you know," he said suddenly, his voice low. "For how far you’ve come."

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his words. "Proud of me?" you repeated, a small smile forming on your lips. "For what?"

"For letting go of the past," he said, meeting your eyes. "For letting yourself heal. It’s not easy, Y/N. But you’ve been strong through it all."

Your heart swelled at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to you before—not like that. It wasn’t pity or sympathy, but admiration. And it made you feel... seen.

"Thank you, James," you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

James didn’t say anything for a moment, just gazing at you with an expression that made your stomach flutter. And then, without another word, he took your hand in his. It wasn’t grand or overdramatic, but it felt significant—like the first step toward something new. Something you hadn’t even known you needed until now.

"Let’s keep walking," he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

And you did. One step at a time.

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ariascoven · 3 months ago

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⟡ AFTER MIDNIGHT

PAIRING : eve fletcher x reader

CONTENT / WARNINGS : reader referred to as a girl. legal age gap. petnames (honey, baby, sweetheart & doll). public display of affection. public restroom. oral (eve receiving). fingering (reader receiving). little bit of praising. biting. mommy kink.

WORD COUNT : 3.1k

MY MASTERLIST

As soon as you step inside the bar, you immediately regret the entirety of your life choices. The smell of alcohol, the screaming, the music blaring — it was all too much for you. But you promised your friends from your literature class that you would come. With a deep regretful sigh, you make your way towards the bar, heels clicking against the floor rhythmically. “Hey, can I get a vodka, please?” You ask the bartender, the loudness forcing you to speak louder than you're used to and making you wince at the sound of your own voice. The guy nods, turning around to make your drink. You sigh once more, looking around and taking notice of the way everyone was having fun except you. You just hate going out. You look down at yourself, judging the outfit you picked for the night; a short, navy blue dress that was glued to your body, showcasing all of your curves — or the lack of, accompanied by a pair of black heels. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to hide from others’ prying gazes, even though you're sure no one was looking your way. That is, until you notice her, Eve Fletcher, the middle aged woman with whom you share your class with. She smiles, looking as beautiful as ever. She's sitting on a round table with the other students and the teacher, her hand waving around in a silent request for you to join them. You take your drink from the barista, muttering your thanks before slowly making your way to the table, dragging your feet across the bar and wishing you could go back home.

“Hey, honey!” Eve greets warmly, standing up to give you a quick hug. You smile, rubbing her back affectionately and muttering a quiet ‘hi’. “Here, sit with us. Wow, you look amazing in that dress!” The sound of her voice seems to calm your nerves down as you sit on the chair right beside hers, subtly moving it to get even closer. You greet the others, nervousness washing over you — they've never seen you like this, only wearing oversized clothing to class and putting your hair up if you were lucky enough. You hug yourself, using the excuse that the air was getting cold. “Oh, baby, you didn't bring a jacket with you? Here, take mine, I'm not cold.” Eve’s voice takes a motherly tone as she throws her jacket over your shoulders and rubs your arms before pulling back and taking a sip from her own drink. She then notices the glass in your hand, nodding towards it. “Vodka?” You nod. “Tequila.” She says, swirling her cup around. The others talk and laugh together, but all you can do is focus on the couples dancing together on the dance floor.

You've been feeling terribly lonely lately, the realization that you've never had a relationship before hitting you like a truck. You're 20, for God’s sake! Of course you know that you're still young, but watching everyone around you experiencing love while you're sitting on the bench, just waiting for your turn… it gets tiring at a certain point. You let out a small sigh that feels like the 100th one that night, resting your cheek on your hand. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even realize Curtis and Margo had left the table and joined the dance floor as well. Eve studies you intently, but before she can say anything, Julian snatches her to dance and you're left all alone, sadly sipping on your vodka. You smile, watching Eve dancing around happily. Julian is clearly flirting with her, does she know that? Maybe she does, maybe she's flirting back. You frown. Is she? The young man leans in to whisper something in her ear before disappearing in the crowd, probably going to the bathroom or to get a drink.

Then your heart takes a leap inside your chest when the older woman turns to look at you, eyes searching yours. She smiles, waving her hand and beckoning you closer. Awkwardly, you march through the crowded space. “Is something wrong, honey?” Her angelic voice fills your ears, giving you butterflies. You wave a dismissive hand, shaking your head. “Nah, nothing wrong. Just… you know. Life. Or, not-life.” Eve gives you an understanding smile, giggling. She steps closer to you, arms reaching out to wrap around your neck. Your tongue flicks out to wet your suddenly dry lips, hands instinctively gripping her waist. It felt like heaven, your bodies moving together in the rhythm of whatever song was playing in the crowded bar, whatever, you didn't recognize it. But Eve did. Her eyes are closed as she hums along, the dim lighting of the room making you wonder if she was actually real — you've met lots of beautiful women before, but Eve was just out of this world. A tentative hand reaches to touch her cheek, cupping it tenderly. Her eyes snap open in surprise at the touch, but she quickly melts and leans into it. Your last brain cells are arguing inside your head, one yelling at you to kiss her, the other yelling the exact opposite. But before you can make up your mind, she turns around, pressing her back against your chest. Your heart races at the sudden change, the hand previously on her cheek now awkwardly resting on her waist.

You quickly warm up to the position, your hands gripping her waist with more confidence, slowly sliding down to her hips. She seems to like that, head leaning back to rest on your shoulder while her hand moves to the back of your neck. Your cheeks brush against each other, your eyes closed as you sway together, hips moving together in a sensual dance. The scent of the older woman mixed with the intimacy of the moment is driving you mad with arousal. Your head dips down to nuzzle her neck, inhaling deeply before placing a tender kiss on the soft skin. She makes a noise that sounds a bit too much like a moan, a spark of hope igniting inside of you. You repeat the gesture, causing her head to tilt to the side, giving you further access. You grin against her, peppering the sensitive skin with kisses and small nips. Feeling emboldened by Eve’s quickening heartbeat, your tongue darts out to taste her. She groans lowly, her hand squeezing the back of your neck slightly. Nibbling on her earlobe, a sneaky hand slides up to grope her breast. She gasps, turning her head to look at you with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” She whispers with urgency, but doesn't make any effort to move away from you.

“Living a little. What are you doing?” You have no idea where that came from — the confidence. You're usually a really shy girl, in fact, you're barely able to talk to the middle aged woman during class, preferring to just sit back and admire her from afar. But as you feel her body pressing against yours, you wish you would've done it sooner. Her gaze sends a jolt straight to your throbbing core. She bites her lower lip and the sight is too much. You lean down, kissing her fiercely. She groans against your mouth, spinning around in your arms and pulling you closer, hands tangling in your hair. She bites your lower lip, the action eliciting a hiss from you. You break the kiss, both of you panting. “I always wanted to do that.” She confessed, her low voice turning your brain into mush.

Decidedly, you grab her hand and drag her to the female restroom in a hurry, as if the world is ending. Eve laughs and apologizes to the people you bump into, your mind too focused on getting to the destination to even realize. As you get inside, neither of you notice how filthy the place is as you hurriedly push Eve inside one of the stalls, locking the door and pushing her against it. She grins when you press your body against hers, a low chuckle escaping her lips. “Didn't know you were that bold, doll.” The endearment and the way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. Your lips move to silence her in a fiery kiss, your tongue slipping inside her mouth. Your leg finds its way between hers, pressing up against her. A smirk splatters across your face when you feel her hips grinding down against you, a needy whimper slipping past her red lipstick lips, now puffy from the intensity of your kisses.

You allow her to find her own pace, focusing on the sensitive skin of her neck as you lean down to lick and bite, your teeth grazing against her deliciously. You could stay like that for hours, the taste of her was like a drug, and you were addicted. Your hands knead the older woman’s breasts over her black dress, causing her to moan at the touch, eyes fluttering close while she throws her head back against the cold door. Her hips quicken their pace, grinding almost desperately. You feel your own pussy throbbing when she opens her eyes, looking at you with nothing but pure lust. “Get on your knees.” You could cum just from the demanding tone in her voice, sinking to your knees ridiculously fast and wincing at the bruise that will definitely appear. You have to push the thoughts of how disgusting that public bathroom floor is aside and focus on the woman staring down at you, a side grin that gives you goosebumps playing on her lips. Her hands grip the hem of her dress, hiking the fabric up around her hips. Your mouth waters at the sight, your own hands reaching to grip her thighs. You look up as if asking for permission and she nods, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Your eyes flutter and you lean closer, licking a thick stripe up the fabric of her damp underwear. The action elicits a deep groan from her, her hips bucking instinctively while she tugs at your hair, pulling harshly. A pathetic whine falls from your lips, trembling hands moving to slide her panties down her legs. She breathes out as the cold air hits her most intimate parts, rolling her hips against nothing. “Fuck.” She hisses when you finally touch her, licking her folds and kissing her clit gently, almost teaing. Your fingers leave red marks on her thighs, where you squeeze hard, kneading her flesh. She rides your face, body undulating as you explore every inch of her. You can feel the wetness dripping down your own thighs, face flushing at how embarrassingly needy you've gotten just from eating her out. Your tongue circles her clit slowly before taking it inside your mouth and sucking hard. You look up just in time to see her eyes rolling into the back of her head, hand moving to cover her own mouth and muffle the noises threatening to spill out. You fight the urge to pinch yourself, to make sure this is real life and not another wet dream. Eve seems to read your mind, pulling your head back to look up harshly, hurting your sensitive scalp. “Look at me while you eat my cunt.”

That's the best thing she could ever ask from you, you think. You feel small under her piercing and condescending gaze, eyes locked onto hers. You slow down, your tongue giving small kitten licks. You do it on purpose, knowing the older woman is growing impatient as she glares daggers down at you. Plunging your tongue inside her without a warning, you take her by surprise. And just like that, her resolve crumbles, eyes snapping shut and knees going weak as she holds herself up by gripping the walls. She lets out a loud, almost pornographic moan that only serves to make you wetter, your underwear clinging uncomfortably to your skin. You whimper around her, fucking her with your tongue as fast as you can, eyes never looking away from the blissful expression on her face. Her inner walls flutter and clench around you, encouraging you to move even faster. When her body starts trembling, you know she's close. You watch with lustful eyes as her moans become nothing but high pitched nonsense. Her words are slurred out, and the only thing you're able to make out is, “Keep going, baby, I'm so close.”

“Shit!” She cries out, cumming hard around your tongue. It makes you whine, your eyes rolling back at the sweetest taste you've ever felt in your mouth. You slow down your ministrations, but don't stop until Eve is panting and gasping, sweat covering her forehead and dripping down her face. “Jesus… fucking Christ.” She breathes out, looking down at you with a side smirk. You pull back, wiping the remains of her arousal off your face with the back of your hand and standing up, locking your lips together in a gentle kiss. She hums, arms wrapping around your neck lazily, the closeness between your bodies causing you to feel just how much she is shaking and her heart is racing. “Mmm, now we need to take care of you, don't you think, honey?” She speaks against your lips, raising a brow suggestively. You nod eagerly, squeezing her ass. She groans then chuckles, fixing her dress as you slide her panties back up. “Let's go to my place, doll.” She whispers against your ear, then nips your earlobe playfully.

Back at Eve’s house, your brain barely registers where you are when she pushes you down onto her bed, a yelp escaping from your lips. She crawls on top of you and buries her face in your neck, biting down harshly. “Please…” You cry out, body arching up against her, wide eyes pleading for her to take you. When her hands grip the hem of your dress, you expect her to hike it around your waist, but instead she pulls it over your head and gets rid of your underwear in the blink of an eye. Your brain stops working when she attaches her lips to your nipple while twisting the other between her long fingers, and you can't wait to have them inside of you. She looks up at you and the sinful sight drives you crazy with desire, barely able to form any coherent thoughts. You wanted this for so long, ever since she walked inside that small classroom looking like a goddess, but never did anything about it, being too shy and untrusting of your flirting skills — spoiler alert, you had none. After giving both of your breasts the exact same attention, leaving both of your peaks hardened under her touches, she kisses her way down your body.

All you can do is whine, knuckles turning white as your fingers grip the sheets as if your life depends on it. Her hands work to pull your legs apart, allowing her to bury her face between them. Your quiet whines turn into loud moans as she devours your pussy as if it's her last meal, groaning at the taste. Your hips buck upwards on their own accord, seeking her mouth. Wet noises and moans fill the otherwise quiet room and you thank God for the fact that Eve lives in a house and not in an apartment, that way you don't have to worry about neighbors hearing the noises of your pleasure. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to keep quiet; Eve’s tongue is too good. Without thinking, you mutter. “Mommy…” The word causes both of you to pause. Your body tenses, your eyes wide with pure horror. However, Eve grins wickedly. “What did you just call me, honey?” She purrs, her chin and nose drenched in your juices. When she notices you're too embarrassed to respond, she speaks up again. “Such a dirty girl, calling me mommy. I think I like that.” Relief washes over you at her words, moaning when her fingers slide down your slit and collecting your arousal. She sucks her own fingers, humming in approval. “All this for me. You've dreamed about this, haven't you?” She nagged, crawling up your body, her nose now brushing against yours. You nod in embarrassment, cheeks covered in a pink color.

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan when she cups your pussy, rubbing her palm against your clit lazily. “Wanna call me that again, sweetheart?” She coos, her voice honeyed. It makes you dizzy, all of it — the tone of her voice, the way she looks at you, her fingers caressing your soaked folds. “Mommy.” You utter quietly. She kisses you tenderly, finally slipping two digits inside your cunt and making you moan around her. Her fingers are easily welcomed into you due to how wet you are, curling to hit the spot that makes you see stars. “Mine.” She whispers in between wet, sloppy kisses. “My pretty girl, all mine.” Her voice takes a possessive tone as she pulls back to look down at you hungrily, biting her lower lip in the way that drives you insane. A third finger joins in, causing your eyes to roll back. She moves to your breasts, alternating between them as she licks your peaks.

One of your hands let go of the sheets to wipe your chin, realizing you're drooling from the intense pleasure. A chain of cuss words leave your lips as you feel your orgasm approaching, the familiar knot in your stomach as you ride her fingers. Your breath comes in small gasps and you bring a hand to your hair, brushing the wild strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. Her name comes out of your mouth in a loud, long moan as your body convulses beneath her. She moans, feeling your pussy clench desperately around her speedy fingers, who keeps fucking you until you're begging for her to stop. You close your eyes, mind still spinning. “What just happened?” You mutter breathlessly, eliciting a giggle from the older woman. You're panting like you just ran a marathon and her hand is covered in your cum. She forces your mouth open by squeezing your cheeks with her clean hand, the sudden act causing your eyes to snap open. Then, she shoves her fingers into your mouth. You don't complain, looking into her eyes as you suck them clean, tasting yourself. When you're done, she gently removes her fingers from your mouth and cups your face, giving you a quick kiss. “You seem tired, baby. Go to sleep, mommy will take care of you, alright?” These are the last words you hear before drifting off to the best post-fuck sleep you've ever had.

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#written for aria’s coven ♡#eve fletcher x reader #eve fletcher smut #eve fletcher #mrs. fletcher #kathryn hahn x reader #fxf smut #wlw fanfic

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seelie-buddy · 4 months ago

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Tell Me You Love Me

summary : your love for alhaitham is endless, and you make sure to express that verbally; alhaitham makes sure his affections reaches you as well

contains : alhaitham believes in 'actions speak louder than words' ; pre-established relationship ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person

word count : 800

The candle by your bedside is close to running out when Alhaitham appears through the door. Eyes drooping and a yawn slipping out, the bed dips under his weight as he joins your side. You smile softly as he snuggles in, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut instantly.

"Long day?" You whisper, raising a hand to brush through his hair. You receive a sleepy hum for a response as you pull the blanket over him. "Rest well then."

You can feel his breathing slow as sleep comes over him. It's rather endearing, watching him melt in your embrace, relax to your warmth. Oh, you loved him dearly. And you had no qualms to saying it out loud.

"I love you," you say, a gentle whisper as you lay a soft kiss against his forehead. You would repeat those words for him over and over again until the whole world knew. You would let those words echo through your shared house, letting its warmth fan the fire of the hearth, allowing your abode flourish in the warmth of a home.

And you were sure he heard you, as you felt his hand brush against yours, his index finger curling around yours, wrapping your finger in a gentle, yet firm, hold.

The sky remained hidden behind large, fluffy grey clouds, indicating the rain that would soon fall on Sumeru City. It made sense then of the people rushing back into the shelter of their homes before they get caught in the upcoming downpour.

You simply smiled at the idea of a cozy evening. You paused in your tracks, however, as you caught the whiff of flowers. Turning around, you catch glimpse a flower vender, packing up their stall as the other merchants did.

You returned home, grinning brightly despite the light scoldings of the elderly flower vender who was rushing to return home.

"I'm home!" You chirp in a sing-song. And ah, the sight of your beloved welcoming you back with a warm smile.

You thrust the flowers into Alhaitham's hand, feeling absolutely gleeful at the surprise flashing across his face. His widened eyes, momentary gaping melting into a smile as he recognizes the bouquet of flowers to be the same as the first gift you had given him at the start of your love story.

"I have something for you too," he says in a soft whisper before disappearing into your shared bedroom before returning with another bouquet of flowers in hand. Ah, seems he must have encountered the flower vendor on his way home as well.

His gaze remains on you as you laugh at the coincidence, his eyes honeyed with endearment and softened with amusement.

Oh and his silent laugh as you jumped into his arms, hugging him tight.

"I love you."

You were sure you found your heaven on earth.

You love your off days. Not only did you get to sleep peacefully until the sunlight seeping in through the curtains slowly awake you, but you get to enjoy the sight of your sleepy beloved. The whispered 'good morning's as you take each other in an embrace, snuggling until late in the morning, that joy was unparalleled.

Preparing meals together, snuggling on the couch as one napped and the other read, random chit-chat about some curious thing that happened at work throughout the week; these were all simple moments, but things you yearned for when you had to be apart because of work.

You enjoy watching the sunset with Alhaitham, sitting down on the ground, surrounded by the smell of the grass and dirt. Waiting until the moon rose high as you listened to him narrate bits of poetry in languages you could only dream of learning.

As you worked around in the kitchen with him, preparing dinner, you smiled contentedly.

"I love you," you mummer.

A soft kiss lands atop your head as Alhaitham continues to work around you, leaving you grinning brighter than ever.

"I love you lots," you say amidst your soft chuckles.

"I love you too," Alhaitham smiles back. "More than words could ever express."

"Really?" You cock an eyebrow playfully, not bothering to hide how his words made you soar over the moon.

"Really," he says, not minding your playfulness. "I could use all the words I know, speak all the languages I can, and it still wouldn't suffice to express what you make me feel, how happy you make me."

Alhaitham turns towards you, devoting his utmost attention to you. "Your laugh, your smile, your voice, your eyes, they will always be more beautiful than any language, any poetry that the world has to offer. You are the language I love most, and the only one I want to remain fluent in until my time runs out."

a/n : I previously wrote this drabble (a quiet love) for alhaitham and enjoyed writing it a lot, so I wanted to write more for him (I'm definitely not biased.... okay maybe a tiny bit hehe—); but yeah, I really like the idea of alhaitham following the 'actions speaks louder than words' if it wasn't already obvious

→ this fic was the (3+1) kinda type, or well, I had that in mind when writing it; dunno if it was noticeable or not lmao

p/s : now that my senior year of highschool started, I might be a bit irregular at posting (not that I actually wrote consistently before—), but I don't have too hard courses this semester, so who knows I actually might be a tiny bit consistent; but yeah you get the point right?

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visionsofmagic · 1 year ago

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— how loud they are. ✷ mk1 edition. | part 1.

LOUD.

— nsfw content is under the cut! just a drabble. hope it is canon correct. also, wanted to make this two part because wanted to publish this before a request work, so here we are. enjoy! part 2; kung lao, syzoth, raiden, kenshi, shang tsung [so far]. [main master.]

tomas, kuai liang, bi han, johnny cage, liu kang

TOMAS. he would keep his voice to himself at the beginning of your relationship, however, over time, he will get confident and he will never hold himself back from showing how good you feel as he uses his voice, words, and sounds. he will be still shy yet he knows he should not hide how weak he is around you. he will become so loud that it’s hard to cum by just how cute he sounds. he will moan shamelessly, yet have a bit of redness on his face, worshipping you even and begging- it takes a few seconds until he’s down bad for you.

“mmmhhp! oh, yes, yes, my beloved, please - need more - ohhhh! more, mor - mhhhp! so good to have you - so gooood!”

KUAI LIANG. his loudness can change from time to time, whether he is the one who is a mess or you who is being a pathetic one by him and his cock. he will stay a bit silent when it comes to fucking you rough, yes he will still growl, and leave low moans but he will be louder when you take control, making him weak on the knees, hotness in his body is not there because of his ability, no, it will be there because of you and how easy you take shameless sounds from him.

“oh my - you have no - aggh - idea how much you make me weak, right? baby, I - ohhhh fuu - I love you so muuch - agh, will cum because of how good you’re making me feel!”

BI HAN. he stays quiet except for talking dirty, humiliating, teasing - will praise you if you do good, will accept how good you feel if it’s a lucky day because the man doesn’t want to break by anyone yet you’re so different, different than anyone else because you can really make him, the grandmaster, swear underneath his breath, sweating and can’t help but moaning lowly into your ears - growling from time to time as if he’s a beast and your his special hunt.

“fuuck! pretty baby, have no fucking idea how much pleasure I, your grandmaster, get by fucking you. aggh - fuck! feel so good to see you making a mess on my cock like this slut.”

JOHNNY CAGE. he will never stop talking, so, he would not like to keep his voice only to himself either, especially when you make him see starts, reaching the climax - the highness he has never had before you - not even seeing outworld for the first time had this effect on him, no, you’re something else and he promises that he will never hold back when it comes to you, and that includes literally worshipping you, moans, lewd voices, begs never leaving his mouth.

“shiiit baby! fuuuuuck you feel amazing! please baby give me more - need more, fuuuuck! pussy is tightening around my cock that you literally swallow it - ahaha - feel that baby? ‘s all you!”

LIU KANG. god of fire has great control over his body which allows him to stay calm and steady even in the most challenging situations. however, it all disappears in the air with a puff when he has you - exposed, giving yourself to him, and in return, making the god of fire a mess - literally, a mess who is doing all the things he never expected himself to do; moaning loudly without shame, talking so openly with the highness he feels, being on his knees and begging for you. so, he is likely to be as loud as you in bed, wanting you how you affect him in all good ways by being loud enough to make his voice echo inside your mind as he fucks you into oblivion.

“oh my y/n, my love, such beauty that I am so weak before you! please - one more, pretty girl, please, give me one more - you can do it - mhhpp! I can earn it. pretty - ohhh!”

🧡

#🧡 version two of my mk1 drabbles #mk1 #mk1 x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader #smoke #kuai liang #scorpion #kuai liang x reader #bi han #sub zero #bi han x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #🍒 thanks for reading! see you in part 2 too!#mk1 smut

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iseos · 5 days ago

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SHE LOVES ME NOT

─── sim jaeyun x f!reader s. not saying “i love you” back 1130 words g. fluff | © iseos library

you had been scrolling on tiktok when you came across a video that made you laugh out loud. it was one of those harmless pranks: not saying "i love you" back to your boyfriend just to see how long he could go without getting upset. the boyfriend's confused reaction was too funny, and you couldn't help but grin at the thought of trying it on jake. after all, he loved saying "i love you," and he always expected to hear it in return.

the prank started innocently enough. that morning, as jake left the bedroom, turned and said "i love you," with a casual smile. however, you didn't answer, pretending to be engrossed in your phone.

you felt a tiny pang of guilt as he paused, waiting for your words. but when you didn't respond, you could see his shoulders slumped a little as he eventually walked out.

throughout the rest of the day, she continued. jake would say "i love you" in his usual affectionate way, and you would ignore him. sometimes you'd mutter something else, sometimes you'd stay silent. he'd give you a questioning glance, but you kept your face neutral, avoiding his eye contact.

at one point, he tried to catch you off guard by saying it when you were cooking, his voice light and playful. "i love you."

you stirred the pot without looking up, "mhmm."

jake blinked, his lips pressing into a thin line. you could feel his gaze burning into your back, but you refused to break. you had to keep going.

you could feel him watching you, a subtle sadness setting in. every time you ignored him, he seemed to get a little quieter, a little more distant. it was working, you had to admit, it was kind of adorable how much it seemed to affect him. but quickly, it began to feel...wrong. the last thing you wanted was for him to feel hurt or unloved. you found yourself distancing yourself from him just a bit, trying not to be in his presence too much, but if you looked into his eyes for too long, you knew you'd cave.

so, when jake told you he was heading to the corner store to buy more snacks, you gladly welcomed the space.

"okay, ill be here!" you said with a forced cheerfulness, glad for the temporary break from the prank.

jake nodded, "ill be right back." then, as he reached the door, he turned and said it again, a little quieter this time, "i love you."

you didn't even look up from your phone. "mhmm."

you heard the familiar sound of the door opening, but his footsteps abruptly stopped. you glanced up, slightly startled. jake was still standing in the doorway, his hand on the door handle. his back was to you, but he wasn't moving.

you felt a rush of guilt and couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"don't keep the door open, you're letting cold air inside," you said, trying to sound casual as if it was nothing unusual. jake didn't reply, his silence louder than anything. you sat there, biting the inside of you cheek to stifle the laughter threatening to escape. hidden by the back of the couch, you covered you mouth, trying your best to keep from laughing out loud.

without saying anything else, jake pulled the door closed and left. when you heard his footsteps getting farther away, you couldn't hold it in any longer.

when he returned, he was carrying multiple filled bags of snacks—way more than they needed. he dropped them onto the kitchen counter, his expression slightly sour. you glanced at him from the couch, your heart racing, but you stuck to your plan.

"got your favorites," he muttered, almost as if he was talking to himself. but still, no "i love you."

the evening went on, and when it was finally time to go to sleep, you finished getting ready first and got into bed first, trying not to look guilty. you had spent the day dodging his glances and avoiding too much physical closeness; you didn't want to break, you didn't want the prank to end too early.

jake climbed into bed after you, his body feeling a little heavier than usual. he rested his bed on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, still silent sulking.

you were trying so hard not to laugh. he was so cute when he was upset, but you couldn't let him know the truth just yet. you tried to focus on the tv, but you could feel him sighing dramatically against you. the deep sighs, each one louder and more exaggerated than the last, were obviously intended to get your attention.

after a few more, your resolve started to crumble. you couldn't help but lightly pat his back, though you were desperately trying not to laugh.

jake sighed again, this time practically groaning as he moved so his whole body was laying on top of you, obviously expecting a response.

trying your hardest not to crack, you barely managed to keep a straight face, "what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but far from serious.

"did i do something wrong? are you mad at me? because if i did, please just tell me," he whined as his arms tightened around you.

you shoulders shook as you tried not to laugh. his voice was so sincere, and his little sighs were so exaggerated, that you couldn't hold it in anymore. finally, you let out a burst of laughter.

jake lifted his head from your shoulder to blink at you with a confused frown. he briefly glanced at the tv but it didn't show anything to warrant this type of laughter from you, "what? what's so funny?"

you struggled to get the words out through your laughter. "it was just a prank!" you managed to say between fits of giggles, "i was messing with you. i didn't mean to make you so upset, i just thought it'd be funny."

jake's face dropped, "you—what? i thought i did something wrong!" his face went slack for a moment before he groaned. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him flush against you again as you continued to laugh. he dropped his head back to your shoulder with a groan. his arms tightened around you even more, squeezing you in a way that was almost too tight.

"never do that to me again," he muttered into your shirt, his voice muffled but sincere. you couldn't help yourself, laughing even harder.

"i'm sorry! i didn't mean to make you so upset, but—your reaction was so funny! i promise i won't do it again," but even as you said that, you knew deep down, you definitely would.

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hisfavegirl · 21 days ago

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Choices - Aemond Targaryen x SisterWife!Reader x Aegon Targaryen.

Summary : you were tired of being just a shadow, after that night something inside you changed. the choice you made that night changed your entire life.

After that night — the night you found yourself once again in Aegon’s arms, wrapped in his warmth until the break of dawn — you made a decision. No longer would you allow yourself to be consumed by the ache Aemond had caused. The pain had festered for too long, and you were done being a prisoner to it.

As you stepped out of Aegon’s chambers that morning, the castle corridors seemed quieter than usual, though you knew it was only an illusion. Eyes followed you. Servants, guards, and courtiers glanced your way, some pretending to be preoccupied while others stared openly, their gazes sharp with judgment or curiosity. Their whispers echoed softly behind you, low murmurs carrying words you didn’t care to hear.

But you didn’t falter. You kept your head high, spine straight, and your steps measured with purpose. The faint smirk on your lips was barely noticeable, but it was there — a silent defiance. Let them talk. Let them wonder. Let them think whatever they pleased. For the first time in a long while, you felt in control. You had spent too long chasing affection from a man who refused to see you. Now, they would all see you.

The light fabric of your gown swayed gently as you walked, the cool morning air brushing against your skin. You could still feel the warmth of Aegon’s touch lingering on you, like an invisible armor shielding you from their stares. Your heart didn’t ache this morning — not for Aemond, not for anyone.

As you approached the main hall, you saw Alicent at the end of the corridor. Her eyes met yours, narrowing with a look you knew well: suspicion. Her gaze flickered to the way your hair was still slightly tousled, the faint mark barely hidden beneath the neckline of your gown. Her lips pressed into a firm line, but she said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her silence was its own form of disapproval.

But you didn’t slow down. You walked past her with that same unshaken grace, ignoring the weight of her gaze on your back. You had made your choice, and you wouldn’t apologize for it. Let them all watch. Let them all whisper. None of them had ever truly seen you before. But now, they would.

You were in your chamber, brushing through your silver hair in front of the mirror, the soft glow of the morning sun spilling through the window. The air was calm, the gentle chirping of birds outside offering a rare sense of peace. You adjusted the neckline of your gown, letting it rest just right on your shoulders. But that peace was short-lived.

The sound of your chamber door being thrown open echoed through the room, making you flinch. The handle slammed against the stone wall with a loud clang, and as you whipped your head around, your heart froze. There he stood — Aemond. His face was a mask of fury, his single eye sharp and burning like wildfire. He didn’t wear his eyepatch, and the sapphire in his empty socket caught the morning light, making it gleam with an eerie brilliance. His chest rose and fell with the weight of his breathing, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles had turned white.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze bore into you like a blade, unwavering and filled with rage that simmered just beneath the surface. It wasn’t the cold indifference you’d grown used to — no, this was something much more dangerous.

“You think I wouldn’t hear it?” he hissed, his voice low and venomous. He took a step forward, slow and deliberate, like a lion stalking its prey. “The whispers. The stares. Do you know what they’re saying?” His voice grew louder with each word, his tone sharp as steel.

You didn’t respond, your jaw tightening as you kept your ground. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you refused to look away. Let him rage, you thought. Let him see that I am no longer his to break.

He took another step forward, his gaze never leaving you. His lips curled into something caught between a snarl and a sneer. “They’re saying you left his chamber this morning.” His words came slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor the taste of them — as if saying it out loud made it more real. His eye narrowed, his gaze raking over you as if searching for evidence of your betrayal.

“Say something,” he demanded, his voice sharp like a crack of thunder. “Deny it. Dare to lie to me.”

You exhaled slowly, straightening your posture. You felt the warmth of defiance rise in your chest. No longer would you tremble beneath his gaze. No longer would you be the one left unseen, unloved. If he wanted the truth, you would give it to him.

Your eyes met his with quiet, unyielding strength. “Why should I?” you asked, your voice steady and clear. “It seems you’ve already decided what to believe.”

His nostrils flared, and for a moment, his eye darted to your neck. You knew what he saw — the faint mark that lingered just above your collarbone. His lips pressed into a hard line, his chest heaving. His gaze lingered on that spot for far too long before his eye snapped back to yours.

“Is this how you get back at me?” he snarled, stepping even closer, his face inches from yours now. “Him?” He said it like a curse, filled with disgust. His breath was hot, his presence overwhelming. “You’d disgrace yourself — disgrace me — just to prove a point?”

Your eyes narrowed, your lips curling into a bitter smile. “Disgrace you?” you repeated softly, as if tasting the words yourself. You tilted your head slightly, letting him see the mark more clearly, daring him to look at it. “You speak of disgrace, husband, but tell me —” Your voice was quieter now but sharp as a blade. “Was it not disgrace when you left me for her?”

The words hit him like a slap. His eye widened for a moment before it narrowed into a glare more dangerous than before. His jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching as he clenched his teeth. You saw it — that flicker of guilt, that fleeting moment of realization. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by pride and rage.

“You forget your place,” he said coldly, his voice like ice.

You raised your chin, your gaze never leaving his. “No, Aemond,” you said firmly. “I’ve only just found it.”

Silence hung between you like a drawn sword, sharp and dangerous. His breathing was heavy, his gaze wild with emotions he refused to name. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t cower. For the first time, you stood as his equal — no, more than that. You were beyond him now.

Without another word, he turned sharply on his heel, his black cloak whipping behind him as he stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut, the echo reverberating through the stone walls. You exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from your body, your heart still pounding like a war drum.

Your gaze shifted to the mirror. You stared at yourself for a long moment, fingers brushing over the faint mark on your neck. Slowly, your lips curved into a small, victorious smile. Let him rage. Let him burn. He had his chance, and he threw it away.

You stepped into your mother’s chambers, the air thick with tension. Alicent stood in the center of the room, her face hard with disapproval, eyes sharp like the edge of a dagger. Her arms were crossed, her fingers tapping slowly against her sleeve — a silent warning you knew all too well.

Beside her stood her. Your sister. Helaena. Her soft, distant gaze remained fixed on the floor, fingers nervously twisting together. She looked as innocent as ever, unbothered, unaware of the weight of it all. But to you, she was a symbol of everything you had lost. Every unspoken word. Every stolen glance. Every moment of your husband’s love that was never yours to begin with.

“Sit,” Alicent commanded, her voice firm, unyielding. You knew better than to refuse. Slowly, you walked toward the chair across from her and sat, keeping your back straight, head held high. If she wanted to scold you, she would have to see that you were no child to be lectured.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Alicent’s voice was low but sharp, every syllable cutting through the silence. Her eyes bore into you, searching for a hint of shame. “The entire Keep is whispering about you. About him.” Her lips curled with distaste at the mention. “Do you think this is how a princess behaves? Do you think this is how a wife honors her vows?”

You kept your gaze on her, unblinking. “Did he honor his?” you asked, your voice quiet but unyielding. “Did he honor me, Mother, when he left me to wither in the shadow of another woman? Did he honor me when he sought solace in her arms instead of mine?"

Alicent’s face stiffened, her nostrils flaring as if you’d struck her. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing with warning. “Watch your tongue,” she hissed. “You are his wife. It is not your place to question him. It is your duty to endure.”

“Endure?” You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I have endured, Mother. I have endured his indifference, his silence, and his loyalty to someone who was never his to love. And you expect me to endure it forever?” Your eyes flickered to Helaena, still quiet, still absent in her own mind. “Is that what you taught her too?”

“Enough!” Alicent’s voice cracked through the air like a whip, sharp and final. “Do not speak of your sister in this.”

But you didn’t stop. Not now. Your eyes locked on Helaena, and for the first time, she met your gaze. There was no malice in her eyes, only confusion, and somehow that made it worse. “You took him from me,” you said, voice laced with quiet fury. “You didn’t even know you were doing it, did you?” You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “Do you know now?”

“Stop this,” Alicent snapped, stepping between you and Helaena. “Do not blame her for your failures.” Her voice was colder now, laced with disgust. “I raised you to be better than this — to be better than your selfishness. Do you think Aegon cares for you? Do you think that boy sees you as anything more than his next distraction?”

Your heart twisted, but you didn’t let it show. You had already asked yourself those questions, lying awake at night in the stillness of Aegon’s chambers. You had seen the shadows of doubt creeping into your mind. But here, before Alicent’s judgmental gaze, you wouldn’t break. You couldn’t.

“At least he sees me, Mother,” you whispered, eyes narrowing into slits. “At least he doesn’t pretend I’m invisible.”

Alicent stepped forward, her face inches from yours now. Her gaze was fierce, unrelenting. “He will ruin you,” she said with quiet fury, her voice deadly calm. “And when he’s done, when he grows bored, you will be left with nothing. No husband, no name, and no place in this world.” She leaned in, eyes hard as steel. “Is that what you want? To be nothing?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes burning with unshed tears, but you did not let them fall. “I was already nothing to him,” you said softly, each word hitting like a blow. “At least now, I am seen.”

Alicent’s face twisted in disappointment, her lips pressing into a thin, angry line. She shook her head slowly, eyes filled with something like pity. “You are lost,” she whispered, stepping back from you as if you were something tainted. “And you will regret this.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, rising to your feet, your heart pounding but your voice unwavering. “But at least I will regret it on my terms.”

You turned to leave, walking past Helaena without sparing her another glance. She didn’t stop you. She never did. And as you left, you heard Alicent’s voice behind you, cold and sharp as ever.

“Don’t come to me when he casts you aside,” she said, her tone final, like a judge passing sentence.

You didn’t turn back. Let her think she had won. Let them all think that. You had nothing left to lose.

You walked along the garden path, your gaze soft as you watched your daughter chase after a butterfly. Her tiny feet padded across the grass, her giggles filling the air with a melody sweeter than any song. Her silver hair shimmered in the dappled sunlight, her little hands reaching for the butterfly that danced just out of her grasp.

A smile tugged at your lips. Moments like these felt like fleeting dreams, too delicate to last but too precious to forget. The weight of everything else seemed lighter here, where only the sun, the breeze, and your daughter’s joy existed.

From the far end of the garden, you noticed a figure approaching. His familiar, unhurried stride was impossible to miss. Aegon. He walked with his usual air of mischief, hands in his pockets, his eyes locked on you with a knowing grin.

“Look at her,” he called as he drew closer, tilting his head toward your daughter. “Chasing dreams she’ll never catch.” His tone was playful, but his eyes lingered on you a moment too long.

“She doesn’t know that yet,” you replied, watching your daughter spin in circles, trying to catch the butterfly as it fluttered just beyond her reach. “Let her believe she can.”

Aegon’s grin widened at that. “Spoken like a mother.”

By the time he reached you, your daughter had already noticed him. Her eyes lit up, and she abandoned her chase, running toward him with all the speed her little legs could muster. “Uncle Aegon!” she cried, her voice high and delighted.

“Little dragon!” he laughed, crouching down just in time to catch her in his arms. He lifted her with ease, spinning her around, her giggles turning into shrieks of joy. “Higher? Higher, you say?” he teased, his voice loud with mock surprise.

“Higher, Uncle! Higher!” she squealed, her arms stretched toward the sky as if she could touch the clouds.

Aegon obliged, hoisting her even higher, spinning her in wide circles that had her squealing with glee. His laughter mixed with hers, louder and freer than you’d heard in a long while. It was so genuine, so unburdened, that you felt your heart tighten.

He finally set her down, but she refused to let go of him, her small hands clutching his tunic as she leaned her head against his chest. He glanced at you, his breathing slightly uneven from the effort, his smile quieter now.

“Looks like I’ve been claimed,” he said, his voice laced with affection as he ruffled her silver hair. “Can’t say I mind.”

You chuckled softly, stepping closer. “You’ve always been her favorite.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to you with something sharper, something unspoken. “Am I?” he murmured, his gaze lingering on yours just a moment too long.

Before you could respond, your daughter tugged at his sleeve. “Again, Uncle Aegon!” she pleaded, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Again?” he repeated, feigning exhaustion as he let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’ll be the death of me, little dragon.” But despite his words, he crouched down once more, letting her climb onto his back like a rider claiming a dragon.

“Ready?” he asked, glancing back at her.

“Fly, dragon, fly!” she declared, her small fists clinging to his tunic like reins.

With a grunt of effort and a laugh on his lips, Aegon straightened, carrying her on his back as he jogged around the garden, her squeals of joy trailing behind them.

You watched them, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite name. For once, everything felt… simple. No whispers. No stares. No burdens too heavy to carry. Just laughter, sunlight, and the sound of your daughter’s happiness echoing through the garden.

You and Aegon walked side by side through the corridors of the Red Keep, his arms steady as he carried your daughter. Her little hands clung to his collar as she leaned her head on his shoulder, her soft giggles filling the silent hall. You couldn’t help but smile, your gaze fixed on them — your heart lighter than it had been in days.

The faint echoes of whispers followed you. Maids glanced from behind pillars, guards exchanged quick looks, and noblewomen passing by slowed their steps, eyes lingering with curiosity and judgment. The weight of their stares was a familiar burden, but today, you chose to ignore it. Their words, their gossip, their assumptions — none of it mattered.

“Look at her,” Aegon chuckled, glancing at your daughter in his arms. “Falling asleep on me after all that excitement. Typical little dragon.”

“She knows where it’s safe,” you replied softly, your eyes shifting from your daughter’s peaceful face to his. He gave you a grin, one that was far too self-assured, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, everything else fell away — the murmurs, the stares, the weight of expectation. It was just the three of you walking down a corridor that had once felt so suffocating but now seemed less so.

But not all eyes were so easily ignored.

From the shadows ahead, you felt it — the cold, sharp gaze of Aemond. His presence was unmistakable. He stood at the end of the corridor, his hands behind his back, his posture rigid. His one eye, the one that mattered, was locked on you. No — not just you. His gaze shifted to Aegon, to your daughter nestled against him, then back to you.

You felt the weight of his stare like a blade pressed against your back, sharp and unforgiving. It begged for your attention, demanded it. But you didn’t look at him. Not this time.

You tilted your chin higher, your smile never faltering as you turned back to Aegon. He noticed, of course. Aegon always noticed. His grin grew wider, bolder, as if daring Aemond to act.

“Don’t look back,” Aegon muttered low enough for only you to hear, his voice laced with quiet defiance. “He hates it when he’s ignored.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing up at him with a raised brow. “Good,” you whispered back.

With that, you continued forward, side by side with Aegon, ignoring the burn of Aemond’s gaze like it was nothing more than a chill in the air. And for the first time, you didn’t feel small. You felt seen.

As you walked past him, Aemond’s hand shot out and gripped your wrist with unyielding strength. You gasped, jerking back, but his grip was like iron.

“Aemond, let me go,” you hissed, twisting your arm, but it was useless. His one eye burned with something wild and furious.

“No.” His voice was low, dangerous, like the calm before a storm. He yanked you forward, pulling you along the corridor.

“Aemond!” Aegon’s voice echoed from behind, sharp and commanding. You glanced back, heart pounding, seeing Aegon striding toward you with purpose. “Let her go!”

Aemond didn’t stop. His fingers dug into your wrist, his pace steady and unrelenting. You stumbled to keep up with him, barely able to keep your footing. The cold stone walls of the Red Keep blurred as you moved past them.

“Aemond, stop!” you snapped, your voice sharp and defiant, but he didn’t even flinch. The guards and maids in the corridor turned away, their eyes averted, unwilling to intervene. No one ever did.

When you reached his chamber door, he shoved it open with one hand and dragged you inside. The door slammed shut behind you with a deafening thud, the finality of it making your chest tighten. He released you with a forceful push, and you stumbled back, clutching your wrist, your heart pounding like a drum.

Your breath was ragged, your eyes sharp with fury as you glared at him. “What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice sharp with disbelief. “You have no right to—”

“No right?” Aemond’s voice was eerily calm, his words cutting like a blade. “I am your husband. I have every right.” He began to pace in front of you like a predator stalking its prey. His eye, sharp as ever, never left you.

“You are a fool if you think you still have that right,” you hissed, your eyes narrowing with defiance.

His head snapped toward you at that, his jaw tightening as his nostrils flared. “Careful,” he warned, his voice low and icy.

But you were done being careful. The weight of everything came crashing down on you. Your chest felt tight, but your resolve had never been stronger. You stepped forward, your voice unwavering as you met his furious gaze head-on.

“Don’t you dare talk to me about rights, Aemond,” you seethed, fists clenched at your sides. “Not after what I heard last night. You have no right to be angry. No right to drag me here like some possession. No right to demand anything from me — not after you crawled into her bed.”

Aemond froze.

The silence that followed was suffocating. The only sound in the room was the distant crackling of the fire. His face went still, too still, the flickering flames casting shadows that made him look almost inhuman.

He turned slowly, his gaze locked on you now with a dangerous intensity. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice tight and controlled.

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Don’t lie to me, Aemond. I heard you. Your voice. Her voice.” Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but you refused to let them fall. “I stood at the door, Aemond. I heard you.”

His eye flickered, his mask cracking for a split second before he composed himself. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice quieter now, but there was no apology in it. Only pride.

“Don’t insult me,” you bit back, your eyes stinging with the betrayal that burned in your chest. “Don’t stand there and pretend it meant nothing. Don’t stand there and act as if I’m blind. I am not her, Aemond. I never will be.” Your voice cracked on the last word, but you lifted your chin, defiance blazing in your eyes.

He took a step toward you, but you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “No. You do not get to touch me. Not after this.”

He tilted his head, his eye narrowing as if studying you in a new light. His lips pressed into a thin line. “So this is why you’ve been running to Aegon?” he sneered, his voice low and cutting. “You think he’ll love you? You think he can give you what I can’t?”

“At least Aegon sees me,” you shot back, taking a step forward. Your breath was shallow, your heart racing, but you didn’t stop. “At least he doesn’t pretend I’m someone else when he touches me.”

Aemond’s face twisted into something raw, something dangerously close to pain. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his breathing heavy.

“He will ruin you,” Aemond said, his voice shaking with barely restrained rage. “He will ruin you, and you will come crawling back."

“Then I’ll ruin myself,” you whispered, your voice hoarse but unwavering. You stepped past him, your gaze fixed on the door. “But I will never crawl back to you.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, your hands trembling but your heart steady. The heavy thud of the door echoed behind you, but it didn’t scare you this time. For the first time, you felt free.

It had been a month since the night that drove you further away from Aemond. The distance between you two had grown into an unspoken chasm. You no longer sought his gaze, and he no longer reached for you. Instead, you found solace in Aegon and your daughter. Aegon was always by your side — in the gardens, at meals, and even during the quiet hours of the night when the world outside seemed to forget you existed.

Your mother, Alicent, watched you closely. Her disapproving gaze followed you wherever you went. She didn’t need to say it aloud — her silence was louder than any scolding. Her subtle warnings were clear: Stop this behavior. Fall in line. Do your duty as a wife. But how could you, when your husband’s heart had never belonged to you?

Then the news came.

The whispers spread through the halls of the Red Keep like wildfire. Servants murmured it as they passed, and the nobles whispered it behind raised goblets of wine. Princess Helaena is with child.

Your heart clenched in your chest. You stopped breathing for a moment, and then it all clicked into place.

It wasn’t Aegon’s.

You knew it the second you heard it. Your blood ran cold, and your mind filled with images you had tried so hard to bury. The sounds you heard that night outside Helaena’s door, the low whispers, the soft creak of the bed, and the unmistakable voice of him. Aemond.

It had been him all along.

Aegon had been with you that night amd the night after, his arms around you, his voice reminding you that you were seen, that you were wanted. There was no doubt in your mind that the child Helaena carried was not Aegon’s. It was Aemond’s. Your husband. Your own husband had betrayed you in the most devastating way.

Rage, sadness, and something else — something colder — coiled in your chest. You always knew, didn’t you? Helaena had always been the one he adored. You had seen it at every family supper, every glance he cast her way, every moment he chose to sit beside her instead of you. He had always been hers. You had been nothing but a shadow of her, a stand-in for what he truly desired.

The realization left you hollow. You could feel it gnawing at the edges of your mind. But this time, you refused to cry. You refused to let him break you again. Your gaze hardened, your breathing steadied, and you lifted your head.

If he wants her, he can have her.

But you would not be silent. You would not be small. You had your daughter. You had Aegon, and perhaps that was enough. Let them whisper. Let them stare. Let your mother scowl. You had already endured enough heartbreak to last a lifetime, and you would not give them the satisfaction of watching you shatter.

Not this time.

You walked hurriedly toward your husband’s chambers, your heart pounding in your chest. The cold stone floor of the Red Keep echoed beneath your feet, every step filled with purpose. Tonight, it ends. Tonight, we face the truth.

Reaching his door, you didn’t bother to knock. You pushed it open with enough force to make it creak loudly, the sound echoing through the room. The warm glow of the fire bathed everything in flickering amber light.

There he was.

Aemond sat by the fire, his long silver hair untied, cascading over his shoulders like a silk curtain. He looked different like this — younger, perhaps even vulnerable. His blue eye, the one that had always cut through you like a blade, was locked on the flames. The sapphire in his other eye socket shimmered faintly in the dim glow. He hadn’t bothered to wear his eye patch tonight.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t turn to face you. He knew you were there. He always knows when you’re there.

“Have you come to accuse me again?” His voice was low, dangerous, but there was something brittle beneath it. “Or is it more of your petty rebellion for everyone to see?”

His words were like arrows aimed at your heart, but you refused to let them hit their mark. You stepped further into the room, closing the door behind you with a soft but firm click.

“You know why I’m here, Aemond.” Your voice was steady, colder than the sea on a winter’s morning. “We are going to end this tonight. No more pretending.”

He let out a bitter laugh, tilting his head back to rest against the chair. His eye finally moved to you, sharp as ever, full of cold fire. “Pretending? Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” He leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. His gaze never left you. “Careful, wife. You may not like the answers you receive.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms. He dares to play coy? After everything?

“I heard you that night, Aemond,” you said, each word like a stone thrown into a still pond. The silence that followed rippled with tension. “I heard you with her.”

He didn’t deny it.

He didn’t even blink.

Instead, he tilted his head to the side, regarding you with that same calculating stare he always gave his enemies on the battlefield.

“So, you’ve decided to play the victim now?” he said, his tone sharp and mocking. “You, who spent your nights in Aegon’s arms while our daughter slept alone?” His voice was louder now, filled with venom. “Do you think I don’t hear the whispers? Do you think I don’t see the marks he leaves on you?”

Your breath caught in your chest, but you didn’t let it show. You refused to be the one to break. Not this time.

“Don’t you dare twist this on me, Aemond,” you snapped, stepping forward, your eyes blazing with fury. “I did not betray you first.” You pointed at him, your voice growing louder, stronger. “I was yours. All of me was yours. I waited. I hoped. I endured. While you sat there, loving her.” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. “Do not speak to me of betrayal when you gave me nothing but scraps.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he said nothing. His fingers twitched like he was moments away from lashing out, but he held himself still.

“You are a fool,” he hissed. “You think love is something that is given freely, something that is owed to you. It is not. I gave you my name. I gave you a child.”

“You gave me nothing but pain!” you shot back, tears threatening to spill, but you refused to wipe them away. “You gave her everything, and you left me to rot.”

He stood then, slow and deliberate, his tall frame casting a long shadow over you as he approached. He stopped just before you, his gaze bearing down on you like the weight of a thousand swords.

“And yet,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, “you keep coming back.”

The words were like a blade to your chest. Your breath hitched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at him, eyes filled with all the hurt, all the rage, all the love that had twisted into something cruel and unrecognizable.

“Not anymore,” you said, voice hoarse but firm. “This is the last time, Aemond. You can have her, have all of her. I won’t fight for someone who never fought for me.”

His face remained a mask of stone, but his eye flickered with something. Regret? Doubt? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

You stepped back, heart pounding like a war drum. Your hands felt cold, but you didn’t let them shake. With one last glance at him, you turned toward the door.

“Don’t you dare to walk away from me,” he growled, his voice rough like thunder in the distance.

But you didn’t stop.

Not this time.

You reached for the door handle, and his voice came again, softer but no less sharp.

“If you leave now, you don’t come back.”

You froze for a moment, letting his words sink in. Slowly, you turned your head just enough to look at him from the corner of your eye. You met his gaze, unflinching, steady as the tide.

“I already left, Aemond,” you said quietly. “You just never noticed.”

And with that, you opened the door and walked away.

Before you could get far from his chamber, you heard the sharp, hurried sound of footsteps behind you. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you didn’t stop walking.

Then, a strong hand seized your wrist.

“Aemond—” you gasped, turning your head just as he yanked you back with enough force to make you stumble. Your back hit his chest, and his grip on your wrist tightened like an iron shackle.

“Let me go,” you hissed, twisting your arm to free yourself, but his hold didn’t budge. His fingers dug into your skin, firm but not painful — not yet.

“Not until you listen,” he growled, his breath warm against the side of your face. His voice was low, sharp, and dangerous, like a blade being drawn from its sheath. He pulled you back into his chamber, slamming the door shut behind him with his free hand.

“Listen?” you spat, yanking at his grip again. “I have done nothing but listen, Aemond! I listened to your silence. I listened to your lies. I listened when you let me hear you with her!” Your voice cracked with raw emotion, but you didn’t care.

He spun you around, and for a moment, you were face-to-face with him. His eye burned with barely restrained fury, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line.

“Say it,” he said through gritted teeth, his eye locked on yours with a heat so intense it could burn. “Say what you’re truly angry about.”

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill, but you refused to give him that satisfaction. “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” you bit out, chest heaving with barely restrained emotion.

“I want to hear you say it,” he demanded, his voice harder now, like steel striking steel. His eye flickered with something wild, something desperate. “Say it.”

“You want me to say it?” you shouted, slamming your free hand against his chest, though he didn’t flinch. “Fine. I’m angry because you chose her! Her! I was your wife! I am your wife! And you betrayed me!”

Your breath was ragged, each word like a piece of you breaking off, shattering on the stone floor.

“And you think I betrayed you first,” you whispered, voice cracking under the weight of it all. “But you left me long before I ever went to Aegon. You left me alone, Aemond. Alone.”

His face twisted, lips parting as if to argue, but no words came. For the first time, he looked lost. His grip on your wrist loosened just slightly, but he didn’t let you go.

“I never left you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, as if that was supposed to be enough. As if words could undo everything.

“Liar,” you whispered, tears now falling freely. “If you didn’t leave me, why was I always alone?”

Silence. His face, his cold, perfect mask, cracked for just a moment. He opened his mouth, but nothing came. No excuses. No lies. Nothing.

His silence was louder than any confession.

You felt your heart break all over again.

“Let me go, Aemond,” you said quietly, not as a demand but as a plea. Your eyes, red with unshed tears, met his. “Please.”

His fingers hovered for a moment longer, as if unsure whether to hold on tighter or finally let go. Then, slowly, his hand slipped from your wrist. The warmth of his touch faded, replaced by the cold air of the room.

He didn’t stop you this time as you turned around.

He didn’t follow when you opened the door.

And he didn’t say a word when you walked away.

You ran toward your chamber, tears streaming down your face like an endless river. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder than the last, fueled by a storm of anger, hurt, and betrayal.

Reaching your door, you shoved it open with trembling hands. The wood banged against the wall, but you didn’t care.

Then you stopped.

Your mother, was already there. She stood in the center of the room, her eyes immediately locking onto yours. Her expression shifted from calm patience to sharp concern the moment she saw your tear-streaked face and heaving chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked urgently, stepping forward, her voice laced with worry. Her gaze scanned you from head to toe, searching for an injury or any sign of what might have happened.

Your chest heaved with a sob, and you didn’t hesitate. You threw yourself into her arms, wrapping yourself around her like a child seeking shelter from a storm. Her warmth enveloped you instantly. Her hands pressed firmly against your back, one of them cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

“Mother,” you gasped between sobs, “he’s gone too far this time.”

Alicent stiffened at your words. Her arms remained around you, but you could feel the shift in her. Her breathing slowed, her posture grew more rigid.

“What did he do?” she asked softly, but there was no softness in her tone — only cold, sharp control. The same control she always used when the world demanded more from her than she could bear.

You shook your head against her shoulder, tears soaking into the fabric of her gown. “He—” your voice cracked, thick with emotion. “He betrayed me again, Mother. I heard him. I heard him with her.”

Alicent’s breath hitched, and her fingers stilled in your hair. Her jaw tensed against your temple, and for a moment, she didn’t speak. You felt it before you heard it — the cold, quiet fury settling into her frame.

“Helaena,” she muttered, her voice so low you barely caught it. Her grip on you tightened. “I warned him. I warned him.”

You pulled back slightly, wiping at your face with shaking hands. “He doesn’t care, Mother,” you said bitterly, eyes filled with pain and exhaustion. “No matter what I do, he always goes back to her.” Your voice broke again, and fresh tears welled in your eyes. “Am I not enough?”

“Don’t say that,” Alicent said firmly, cupping your face in her hands. She tilted your head up so you had no choice but to meet her gaze. Her eyes, filled with a mix of heartbreak and fierce protectiveness, bore into yours. “You are more than enough. Do you hear me?”

You nodded weakly, but doubt still clung to your heart like thorns.

Her gaze hardened, her lips pressed into a thin line. “If he cannot see it, then he is a fool,” she said with quiet conviction. “And I will not let my daughter be broken by a fool.”

Her words settled over you like a balm, momentarily easing the ache in your chest. Alicent pulled you back into her embrace, holding you tighter than before. For the first time in a long while, you felt like someone was on your side.

You continued to cry in your mother’s arms, your body trembling with the weight of everything you had endured. Her fingers stroked your hair in slow, soothing motions, the same way she had done when you were a child afraid of the dark. But this darkness was far more suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” Alicent whispered, her voice strained with guilt. She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her hand resting firmly against your back. “I should have listened to you. I should have seen it.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I failed you.”

Her words only made you cry harder, the release of all your unspoken hurt pouring out at once. You clutched at her gown like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

“Tell me,” she said softly, voice steady but laced with desperation. She pulled back just enough to see your face, her eyes scanning yours with fierce determination. “Tell me what I can do to make it right. Anything, my sweet girl. Anything.”

You sniffled, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks, and for a moment, you hesitated. The weight of the words you were about to speak hung heavy in the air. But you had thought about this for too long, dreamed of it too often to stop now. Your lips parted, and your voice, though hoarse from crying, came out clear and unwavering.

“End it,” you said, looking her directly in the eyes. “End my marriage to Aemond.”

Alicent’s eyes widened in shock. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she said nothing. Her gaze searched yours, as though hoping she had misunderstood. But there was no mistaking the resolve in your face.

“You want me to… annul your marriage?” she asked cautiously, as if testing the weight of the words on her tongue.

You nodded firmly, your eyes unyielding despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. “Yes,” you said, your voice stronger now. “I don’t want to be his wife anymore, Mother. I’ve given him everything, and he’s given me nothing but pain. He doesn’t love me. He never did.” Your eyes hardened, your jaw set. “And I won’t waste another day of my life waiting for him to see me.”

Alicent’s face twisted with conflict. She glanced away, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Annulment was not a simple thing, not for people of your station. It would bring scandal, whispers, and questions from every corner of the court. And yet, none of that seemed to matter to you anymore.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “But you asked me what you could do to make it right, Mother. This is how.”

Alicent’s eyes returned to yours. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes shining with the same fierce love and protection she’d always given her children. Slowly, she nodded.

“If this is what you truly want,” she said slowly, her voice heavy with certainty, “then I will make it so.”

Relief washed over you like a wave, and for the first time in so long, you felt as if you could breathe again. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around her once more, your tears now a mixture of grief and hope.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her shoulder, your voice muffled but full of meaning. “Thank you, Mother.”

Alicent held you tighter, her resolve hardening like steel. “No one will hurt you again, my love,” she vowed softly. “Not him. Not anyone.”

You stood by the window, eyes distant as you gazed at the horizon. The cool breeze brushed against your face, carrying with it the faint scent of salt from Blackwater Bay. The world outside felt vast, free — a freedom you had been denied for far too long.

The creak of your chamber door broke the stillness. You didn’t turn, already knowing who it was. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the soft thud of his boots on the stone floor echoing in the quiet room.

“Should I be worried?” Aegon’s voice came from behind you, light and teasing as always, but there was something gentler in his tone this time. “You look ready to fly away.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him. He stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his head tilted slightly as he studied you. His violet eyes weren’t hazy with drink for once — they were sharp, clear, and focused entirely on you.

“I’m not flying anywhere,” you murmured, turning back toward the window. “Not yet.”

Aegon stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. His footsteps grew closer until he stood beside you, his gaze following yours out to the sea. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unspoken hanging heavily in the air.

“Mother told me,” he said quietly, his eyes flickering toward you. “About the annulment.”

You stiffened slightly but didn’t look at him. “Did she?”

He nodded, leaning forward, his forearms resting on the windowsill. His gaze was distant now, his smile faint but knowing. “She did,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “About time, I’d say.”

A dry laugh escaped you, short and bitter. “It won’t be easy,” you muttered, your fingers lightly tracing the cool stone of the window ledge. “There will be questions. Judgments.”

“Let them judge,” Aegon replied, his tone sharp with defiance. “They’ve judged me my entire life, and I’m still here.” He turned his head to look at you, his eyes warmer now, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You’ll be here too.”

You finally looked at him, really looked at him. There was no mockery in his eyes, no smirk on his lips. Just quiet understanding. It was rare for him to be this sincere, but when he was, it struck you more deeply than you cared to admit.

“I’m tired, Aegon,” you confessed softly, your voice barely a whisper. “Tired of fighting. Tired of hurting.” Your gaze dropped to your hands, fingers clasped tightly in front of you. “I just want peace.”

Aegon reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours before fully taking your hand in his. His grip was firm, grounding, but not forceful. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your temple.

“Then let me help you,” he said, his voice so low it was almost a plea. “Let me give you peace, even if it’s only for a little while.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced up at him, and for a moment, all you could see was the boy he had once been — reckless, wild, but always searching for something more. He wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But he had always seen you.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth seep into you. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting lightly on top of your head. For once, you didn’t feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

For once, you felt safe.

You froze in his embrace, your breath hitching in your chest. The words hung in the air like a spell, heavy and inescapable.

“I love you,” Aegon whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the quiet hum of the wind outside. “More than a brother should. More than I ever should.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, chaotic rhythm that drowned out every other sound. Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes — those sharp, tired violet eyes — were locked on you, unguarded in a way you had never seen before.

“Don’t,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “Don’t say things you can’t take back.”

“I won’t,” he replied without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. His hands remained on your waist, gentle but firm, as if afraid you might run. “I’ve held it back for too long. Lying to you, to myself, pretending it was just brotherly affection.” He shook his head, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “But I’m done pretending.”

You shook your head slowly, stepping back, but he didn’t let go of you completely. Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “This is madness, Aegon,” you said, your voice cracking. “They already think the worst of me. If they knew about this—”

“Let them,” he cut in, his voice sharper this time, his eyes blazing with defiance. “They’ve called me worse. Drunk. Useless. A failure.” He took a step forward, closing the distance again, his face inches from yours. “But you — you’re mine. You always have been.”

Tears stung your eyes, a mix of anger, confusion, and something far more dangerous. “I’m not yours, Aegon,” you said, though your voice was weaker than you’d intended. “I belong to no one.”

His gaze softened, his hands sliding down to your wrists, holding them gently. “No,” he agreed, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “But if you ever wanted to be, I’d never let you doubt it. Not like him.”

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than any blade. He didn’t have to say Aemond’s name for you to know who he meant. The memory of betrayal burned fresh in your mind — the nights you had waited for Aemond, the cold emptiness of his absence, the hollow pain of knowing he had chosen someone else.

Aegon saw it all. He always had.

“I’m not him,” Aegon murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “I won’t leave you wanting.” His thumb brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I won’t make you beg for love that’s already yours.”

You closed your eyes tightly, tears falling freely now. The weight of it all — the betrayal, the loneliness, the anger — came crashing down on you. But with it, there was something else, something you had tried so hard to deny.

Warmth. Safety. Him.

Your hands slowly unclenched against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. Your breathing was shallow, uneven, your mind at war with your heart. For so long, you had fought to keep your dignity, your pride. But for once, you just wanted to feel loved.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. He didn’t move, didn’t push. He just waited. No smirking. No taunting. Just him.

“Aegon…” you whispered, barely a breath.

“Say it,” he urged gently, his voice raw, desperate, yet patient. “Say you don’t want me, and I’ll walk away. I swear it.”

Silence filled the space between you, the only sound the unsteady beating of two hearts. Your lips parted, but no words came. Your hands slowly tightened in his tunic, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

You didn’t say it. You couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t true.

His eyes flickered with something between relief and disbelief, his breath shaky as if he had been holding it for far too long. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

And when his lips finally met yours, it wasn’t harsh or wild. It was soft, steady, and certain — a promise, not a demand. His hands cupped your face with the gentleness of someone holding something fragile and precious. You felt the heat of him, the certainty of him, and for once, you didn’t feel like you had to fight for it.

You just felt loved.

Days passed, and you remained in the quiet solitude of your chambers. The weight of everything — betrayal, heartbreak, and uncertainty — settled heavily on your heart. The walls felt both like a shield and a prison.

Your daughter’s laughter was the only light in your days. She would run into your room, her little feet pattering against the cold stone floor as she climbed onto your bed, babbling about butterflies, flowers, and whatever small adventure she’d had that morning. Her warmth reminded you that not everything was lost.

Sometimes, your mother would visit. Her presence was quieter now, less judgmental, as if she’d finally realized how much she had failed to see. She wouldn’t always speak, just sit beside you, her fingers brushing through your hair like she used to when you were a child. No words were needed in those moments.

And then, there was Aegon.

He came more often than anyone else. Sometimes he brought wine, other times small trinkets for your daughter. His visits were loud and unbothered, like a storm forcing its way into your still, quiet world. He would joke, tease, and try to make you laugh, though he rarely succeeded. But his persistence never wavered.

He never asked for anything. Never demanded. He just stayed.

But they never came.

Helaena never knocked on your door. Not even once. Perhaps it was guilt, or perhaps she simply didn’t care. Aemond’s absence, however, was a deeper wound. For a time, you had waited for the sound of his footsteps, the familiar thud of his boots against the stone. You hated yourself for it. Hated that part of you still wanted an explanation, an apology — anything.

But it never came.

Then, one morning, the whispers reached you. The servants spoke quietly as they passed your door. You overheard their hushed words about Aegon going to the Queen. Demanding that his marriage to Helaena be annulled.

“She’s with child,” one of them had said. “The Queen won’t allow it. It’s already too late.”

Your breath caught in your chest. You knew it wasn’t Aegon’s child. It couldn’t be. He had been with you. Every night, every moment since that fateful night, he had been with you.

The truth settled over you like a weight you couldn’t lift. It was Aemond’s.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your gown, nails digging into your palms. You thought you had buried that pain. You thought you had buried him. But hearing it spoken aloud, knowing that his betrayal had consequences beyond your own suffering — it shattered something inside you.

When Aegon arrived later that day, he found you standing by the window, staring out at the gardens below. Your expression was distant, hollow. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the fire place, arms crossed, watching you quietly.

Aemond stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with sharp, controlled breaths. His single eye burned with fury, the flames of his rage barely contained. Behind him, your mother’s voice called his name, sharp with warning, but he didn’t move. His gaze was locked on you — on you and Aegon.

You rose slowly from your seat, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. Aegon remained seated, his eyes narrowing with lazy defiance as he tilted his head back, watching Aemond like one watches a beast deciding whether to lunge.

“Aemond,” your mother’s voice came again, firmer now, closer. “Don’t.”

But he didn’t listen. His gaze flickered to Aegon, his lip curling in disgust, then back to you. “So this is what you’ve become?” he hissed, his voice low but dangerous, like a snake coiling to strike. “Parading yourself like some… common whore in the arms of our brother?”

Your breath caught in your throat, rage and disbelief mixing into something sharp and searing. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

“You dare speak of shame to me?” you shot back, your voice trembling not with fear but with barely restrained fury. “After what you’ve done with her? After you betrayed me for Helaena?” You stepped forward, your eyes locked with his, daring him to deny it. “Don’t speak to me of dignity, Aemond. You lost the right to judge me.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his eye narrowing to a slit. He took a step forward, his movements slow, predatory. “Helaena is the mother of my brother’s children,” he said coldly, each word measured like the swing of a blade. “She is my sister, my blood. I have only ever done my duty to her.”

“Duty?” you laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and hollow. “Is that what you call it now? Did duty drive you to her bed? Did duty make you hold her the way you never held me?” Your voice broke, and you hated it, hated the crack of vulnerability that slipped through. “Don’t speak to me of duty, Aemond.”

Behind him, Alicent stepped into view, her face pale with shock and shame. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She glanced between you and Aemond as if realizing, for the first time, the full weight of what had been broken.

“That’s enough,” your mother’s voice was hard, the voice of a queen. “Both of you.” She stepped between you and Aemond, placing a hand on his chest, forcing him to step back. “You have done enough damage, Aemond.” Her eyes met his with cold finality. “Leave.”

But he didn’t move. His gaze shifted, not to Alicent, but to you. His eye softened, his lips parting like he was about to say something — something important, something he hadn’t said before. But then his gaze shifted to Aegon.

Aegon, who hadn’t moved from his seat, watching it all with a calm, arrogant grin. Slowly, he raised his cup to Aemond in a silent toast, his eyes glinting with mischief and triumph.

That was it.

Aemond’s mask of control shattered.

With a snarl, he lunged toward Aegon, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him out of his seat. Aegon laughed, even as he was shoved against the wall, his grin unfaltering.

“Hit me, brother,” Aegon taunted, his voice low, his eyes wild with challenge. “Hit me like you want to. Hit me, and watch what happens next.”

“Stop it!” Alicent’s voice rang out, her hands trying to pull Aemond back, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Is this why you wanted your marriage annulled, brother?” Aemond growled through clenched teeth, his face inches from Aegon’s. “So you could claim her for yourself? She’s mine. Mine!”

You stepped forward, voice sharp and clear as steel. “I am not yours, Aemond. Not anymore.”

His grip on Aegon faltered for just a moment. Slowly, he turned his head to you, his breathing harsh and uneven. For a heartbeat, he looked at you not with rage, but with something closer to pain. His lips pressed into a hard line, and his eye searched yours like he was looking for something that had already been lost.

“No,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “You are mine. You have always been mine.”

Your heart twisted, but your resolve didn’t waver. You shook your head slowly, stepping back, putting distance between you.

“Not anymore,” you said, voice steady, final. “I belong to no one but myself.”

Aemond’s gaze flickered with something raw, something close to heartbreak. He looked to your mother, his eye silently pleading for her to stop you, to do something. But Alicent lowered her gaze, her fingers brushing her forehead like she carried the weight of every mistake that had led to this moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pulled your hand from Aemond’s grip, but he caught it again, his fingers wrapping tightly around yours. His eye was wild, filled with something raw — desperation, regret, and anger all at once.

“Please,” he said, his voice breaking in a way you’d never heard before. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” His fingers tightened around your wrist, and his breathing grew heavier. “I can fix it. I can fix everything."

You shook your head, your eyes filled with hurt, but your resolve did not waver. “It’s already done, Aemond,” you said, voice steady despite the storm in your heart. “The marriage is annulled. There’s nothing left to fix."

Aemond’s gaze flickered to your mother, searching her face for some sign that it wasn’t true. “Mother,” he breathed, his voice filled with disbelief. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me you wouldn’t do this to me.”

Alicent’s face was a mask of quiet sorrow. Her eyes, though filled with love, held none of the mercy he sought. “It is done, Aemond,” she said softly, her voice heavy with the weight of her choice. “I will not see her suffer any longer.”

The words struck him like a blade. His grip on your wrist faltered for a moment, but he didn’t let go. His eye darted back to you, filled with panic now, as if he were drowning and you were his only lifeline.

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head like he could deny the reality of it. “No, you’re mine. You promised me. You vowed before the gods.” His breathing grew shallow, his face twisted with something far too close to heartbreak. “You belong to me.”

Your chest ached, but not with love — with the weight of everything that had been broken. You took a breath and met his gaze with unwavering strength. “I belonged to you, Aemond. But not anymore.” You pulled your arm back, trying to free yourself from his grip, but his fingers only dug in deeper.

“Don’t do this,” he hissed, his voice low and filled with warning. “You don’t get to walk away from me. You are mine.”

“Let her go, brother,” Aegon’s voice cut through the tension, sharper than steel. He stepped forward, eyes locked on Aemond, his grin gone, his usual air of indifference replaced with quiet menace. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”

Aemond’s gaze flickered to Aegon, his face twisting with rage. “This is your doing, isn’t it?” he snarled, his grip on you tightening like a vice. “You’ve poisoned her against me.”

“You did that yourself,” Aegon shot back, his eyes narrowing. He moved closer, his steps slow but purposeful. “Let. Her. Go.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his whole body tense as if he were a bowstring pulled too tight. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might strike Aegon.

But then Alicent stepped between them, placing a firm hand on Aemond’s chest. “Enough,” she said with all the weight of a queen’s command. “Let her go, Aemond. This is over. Accept it with dignity, or I will see you escorted from this room by force.”

Aemond’s eye darted to Alicent, disbelief flickering across his face. “You would turn against me too?” he asked, his voice cracking with something far too close to a child’s plea for his mother’s love. “For her?”

Alicent’s face softened with sadness, but there was no doubt in her eyes. “For all of us, Aemond,” she said quietly. “Including you.”

His fingers loosened. Slowly, reluctantly, he let go of your wrist, his hand lingering for just a moment longer before falling away completely. He stared at his hand as if it had betrayed him. He turned on his heel, his strides slow but deliberate as he left the room. The heavy sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the silence that followed.

You rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a faint mark, your breathing shallow. Aegon stepped closer, his eyes scanning you with quiet concern. “Are you hurt?” he asked softly, his gaze falling to your wrist.

You shook your head, eyes still on the door. “No,” you whispered, your voice steady but drained of emotion. “Not anymore.”

Alicent stepped forward and cupped your cheek, her eyes filled with guilt and quiet pride. “You were brave,” she said softly, her thumb brushing your cheek. “Braver than I ever was.”

You leaned into her touch for a moment, letting the warmth of her comfort wash over you. But then you straightened, your eyes hardening as you gazed toward the door where Aemond had disappeared.

“I’m done being afraid of him,” you said, your voice sharp as steel. “He can rage, he can threaten, but he will never control me again.”

Aegon’s smile returned, softer this time, tinged with something like pride. He stepped to your side, close enough for his arm to brush against yours. “Well said,” he murmured. “He won’t touch you again. Not while I’m here.”

For the first time in a long time, you believed it.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd one shot #prince aegon targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #hotd x reader #aegon x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aegon fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond

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whirlybirbs · 9 days ago

Note

simon walking a patrol in his walls w a bucket of mortar, moth following behind him whistling tapping the wall with a rlly small chisel

3. handler's manual — ghost / reader

desc: a new year's eve honeypot brings a realization. pairing: lt. simon "ghost" riley / f!reader ; callsign: moth listen to: asmr by only fire (for seoul bar beats) a/n: i like making this traumatized man come to terms with his repressed sexual attraction to his co-worker in questionable mission scenarios. he really said "i am gonna kill this man because he touched you wrong" ⇽ prev / next ⇾

Your boots are crossed at the ankle and perched on the debrief table. You lean back, flip through the mission report, and then level Laswell with a look that — if given proper ammunition — could kill.

Your affect is flat. Unenthused.

"Honeypots are outdated."

"—But effective—"

"And misogynistic," you insist as you sit up and smack the manilla folder to the table. You drop your head back, "Kate, come on—"

"You're the only fit for this assignment, Moth," her eyes wander the room; bless their hearts, the men look decidedly uncomfortable about the subject. Price is fiddling with his watch. Johnny's tugging at his lip, watching the exchange closely. Gaz looks like he's going to be skinned alive if he speaks. Ghost is silent with his hands in his lap, unmoving — is... is he even listening?

"If you're trying to tell me the el-tee wouldn't look good in a red dress and a pair of heels—"

"Oi."

So he is listening.

There are snickers. Price rolls his jaw to hide a smirk. Johnny slides a look to Gaz. Gaz presses both palms to his eyes. Ghost is staring now and boring a glare into the side of your head, wishing it was a 9mm.

You wish it was a 9mm. Then, at least, you'd be at peace.

"I don't want to outsource this, Moth, the less people involved the better," Kate exhales tightly; she can't say she blames you, she's never been a fan of honey-trapping in her own career, "It's quick. In, out. Rendezvous with the target, sweeten him up, sell the story, get the information, and then get out."

You let out a long sigh. You're thinking about it, how — sure — this is part of your job description but for fuck's sake. This sort of assignments make your skin crawl. Too close, too dangerous. Things can go sideways fast and all you'll have is the skin on your back and a knife under your skirt.

"What's th' problem, Moth?" comes Ghost's low rumble from the corner; his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, his knee bouncing, "You 'fraid y' won't look good in a red dress an' a pair of heels?"

Son of a bitch. It must be a good mood day.

You flash him a glare — you narrow your lashes and then throw him your best faux laugh. It dies flat into a deadpan. "Ha, ha — That's funny, Riley."

Ghost chuckles; it's quiet, you barely hear the gravel rasp from your spot at the debrief table.

Laswell cracks a wry smile. Price rubs his beard.

"I'll do it," you concede after a long breath; the tension in the room dissipates upon your agreement. You stand, tuck the folder under your arm, and flash a threatening pointed finger at Laswell and Price.

"But, no glitter."

"Lookin' awfully sparkly, Mothy."

You hope Lieutenant Simon Riley falls off the building he's doing Overwatch from. Actually, no. You hope he gets hit with a stray New Year's Eve firework. Then, you hope a bird shits on him. And then he falls off the building.

There's glitter everywhere. Gold glitter. Flakey, scratchy gold glitter. It's in your hair, and all over your hands. You feel... uncomfortable. Uneasy.

It doesn't help that your Overwatch is cracking jokes in your ear as you weave through the busy rooftop bar in Seoul. The music is loud; the bass rattles in your chest and the lights strobe making the crowd melt away into blinks of light.

Soap's laughter is louder.

"Wha' was tha' request 'bout no glitter?"

You hope he also falls off the building.

You can't reply — you're too busy thanking a waiter for the flute of champagne that's gripped like your lifeline. Your rings tinker against the glass as you smile and bob to the music; your eyes are busy scanning the room, trying to spot Joo Sung-Min — the son of a tech mogul whose recent involvement with some questionable political allies has raised flags in the intelligence community. He's under the impression he's meeting with a Russian businesswoman: you.

You spot the target ten minutes in — the Brit and Scotsman's occasional commentary is no help. For fuck's sake, those two cannot shut up as you lean against the bar and toss your best dazzling smile at Joo Sung-Min. It catches the man's eye.

"That 'ow you flirt, Mothy?" comes the more grated reply from Ghost; through his scope he can see you place a hand on Sung-Min's arm. He grimaces down the ACOG, "Could use some work."

Ghost doesn't know what this feeling is in his chest. It's uncomfortable. Wrong. You're smiling up at the target again, giggling, and leaned back against the bar. That dress is a right show. All leg. His scope wanders — only for a moment — and immediately Ghost grits his jaw so tight his teeth ache.

"There y' go, Moth," comes Soap's slow encouraging whisper over the comms — there's something being slipped into your fingers by Sung-Min; Soap props himself up on his elbows, binoculars trained on his face, "Almost done."

Fingers linger, your smile drags out, your face tilts up — then, Sung-Min's gilded hand grips your chin. It's tight enough to bruise, and Soap curses tightly. Ghost's finger twitches on the trigger, his sight trained directly on the man's skull.

...Then, you rake your eyes down Sung-Min's black-on-black suit and make a point of biting your rouged bottom lip.

Whatever the fuck that was? It worked.

The kiss that Sung-Min drags out of you is anything but sweet, but you twirl that data-stick in your fingers when he pulls away to release the rough grip on your chin.

Ghost swallows tightly, his pupils dilating. He lets go of a tense breath as Johnny exhales in relief beside him. His trigger finger twitches again.

...He doesn't like this feeling.

Your bitten lips are meant to insinuate thanks, and you toss a lingering look over your shoulder as Sung-Min's eyes follow you as you blend back into the crowd.

You're in the elevator when you finally chirp back over the comms:

"Get me the fuck out of here. "

You hate honeypots.

Ghost is realizing, as he shrugs his sniper over his shoulder, that he does too.

#handler's manual #ghost x moth #also asmr is so fucking funny and does absolutely RIP #YOU LOVE IT WHEN I MOAN IN UR CAR I CALL THAT A S MR.#ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost imagine #mw2 #mw2 imagine #cod imagine

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woozinhos · 20 days ago

Note

Just read the dk corrupting bestie reader one AND HMO HOW BOUT BESTIE READER CORRUPTING DK

AHHH I FEEL YOUUU SO MUCH!!

You've been best friends with Dokyeom for years, and you've always known him as the good, innocent boy next door. But lately, you've been feeling a certain... tension between the two of you.

Dokyeom is as sweet as ever, always treating you with kindness and respect. But there's something in his eyes when he looks at you, something that makes you think he might be harboring some secret desires.

Dokyeom was laid out beneath you, his chest heaving as he looked up at you with wide, pleading eyes.

He was a mess, completely undone by your touch.

His hair was sticking to his forehead, his skin flushed and sweaty as he panted and moaned beneath you.

"Please," he begged, his voice cracking with need. "Don't stop, don't ever stop."

You continued to ride him, your movements steady and relentless as you watched him fall apart beneath you.

Dokyeom's hands were clenched tightly on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to hold on.

He was a beautiful sight, his body trembling and his face contorted in pleasure. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he let out a series of desperate whimpers and moans.

You reached down and gently brushed away the tears from his cheeks, your touch gentle despite the intensity of the situation.

"You're so beautiful like this," you murmured, your voice filled with affection. "So perfect for me."

Dokyeom let out a choked sob, his body arching up off the bed as he neared his limit.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you asked, "Are you having a good time, Dokyeom? Are you enjoying being my good boy?"

Dokyeom's breath hitched, and he nodded desperately, unable to form words as he clung to you.

"Y-yes," he gasped, his voice barely audible. "I'm your good boy, I promise. I'll be so good for you, just please don't stop."

You smiled, a sense of satisfaction filling you as you watched him submit to you completely.

"Good," you purred, your hand trailing down his chest and abdomen. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

You continued to ride him, picking up the pace as you chased your own release.

Dokyeom's back arched off the bed as he let out a loud, guttural moan, his body trembling uncontrollably.

He was a sight to behold, completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth open in a silent scream as he teetered on the edge of orgasm.

"Let go for me, baby," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "I want to see you come undone. Let go and give yourself to me completely."

Dokyeom's eyes snapped open, locking onto yours as he gasped for breath.

He looked at you with a mixture of desperation and adoration, his body taut with tension as he tried to hold on just a little longer.

Dokyeom's body was shaking violently beneath you, his muscles tensed and quivering as he fought to hold on.

But you could tell he was nearing his limit, his moans growing louder and more frantic with each passing moment.

"P-please," he begged again, his voice cracking with need. "I can't... I can't hold on anymore. I need to cum."

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear once more as you whispered, "Then cum for me, baby. Let go and give me everything you have."

That was all it took.

Dokyeom's body stiffened, his back arching off the bed as a strangled cry tore from his throat.

He came hard, his hips bucking up into you as he spilled himself inside you, his release coating your inner walls.

You rode him through his orgasm, your movements slowing down as he finally collapsed back onto the bed, completely spent.

Dokyeom's chest was heaving, his body limp and pliant beneath you as he tried to catch his breath.

He looked utterly wrecked, his hair a mess and his skin glistening with sweat. But there was a look of pure bliss on his face, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt smut #dk smut #dk x reader #svt dk #seventeen dk #dk #seokmin smut #svt seokmin #seokmin x reader #seventeen seokmin #lee seokmin #lee dokyeom #seventeen dokyeom #dokyeom

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redroomreflections · 6 months ago

Text

Before She Cheats...

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha cheats on reader

The Loud House Universe

w/c:1.6k (an AU to the AU )

You can't see her face when you walk through the door, your excited greeting hanging in the air as you shrug off your coat and kick off your shoes. Natasha remains silent when you call out to her, her body language stiff and unmoving as she sits curled on the couch.

"Hey, baby, I thought we could celebrate tonight!" You suggest, your voice brimming with enthusiasm. You don't wait for an answer as you drop all your belongings in the foyer. The familiar scent of fresh soap fills the room, and you notice the damp curls of her hair, evidence of a recent shower. “I officially put in my resignation for ADA. We can go ahead and get started on the move. Also, I will be accepting that job offer in the morning. Ohio it is for us.”

Still nothing. It’s fine she’s probably busy with Luke.

"Natasha?" You call again, hoping for a response, but the silence is deafening. The atmosphere in the room shifts, and your excitement wavers as you approach her cautiously. "Oh, you're in here with all the lights off," you observe with a chuckle. "It's giving Cara after a long day. How are you? I missed you." You lean in to kiss her lips, but she turns slightly, offering only her cheek in return.

Your smile falters as you pull back, your excitement dimming. "Is everything okay?" you ask, concern creeping into your voice. Natasha's gaze remains fixed ahead, her silence louder than any words. "Where are the kids? Did something happen?"

"No, um the kids are fine," She finally speaks. She looks into your eyes and all you see is pain. "I sent them to the compound for the weekend. "

"Oh, that's cool then," You nod. "Even Luke? He's so tiny. It will be his first time away. "

Natasha nods. She bites her lips nervously. Something you've never known Natasha to do.

"I felt we needed this time to talk about a few things," She began before shaking her head.

"Okay," You furrow your brows.

"We've been together for a while now. We've built a life together and our children and the Avengers and it's great. It really is. " Natasha begins a monologue that has you going from confused to afraid. "I love you."

"Natasha, I love you too," You grab a hold of her hand. You massage her skin soothingly. "What's wrong? Baby, tell me."

"I, um, there's no easy way to say this," Natasha takes a deep breath. "I was drunk. I was stupid. I slipped. It was just one time and..."

"What happened?" You interrupt her. You don't want to think where this is going. It's never been a thought in your head.

"I slept with someone else," She whispers. "It was a mistake. I know I can't take it back. I am sorry."

The blood drains from your face, and your heart sinks. You pull your hand back as if you've been burned.

"No," You shake your head. "No, no. You didn't do that. You're not stupid. You wouldn't throw away ten years of marriage like that."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She pleads with you. "You have to believe me." She reaches for your hand."

"No," You shake your head. "Why would you do that? W-why?"

"It was a mistake, Y/N. I didn't think it would lead to anything. We were both drunk. It happened so fast." Natasha explains.

"So, you just forgot you're married." You questioned. "You just forgot you had a wife at home. What was she prettier than me? Was I working too late? Did she give you affection I didn't?" Your voice raised.

"No," Natasha denied.

"Then what is it?" You demanded.

"I wasn't thinking. I made a mistake. You have to believe me. It will never happen again."

"I have to believe you. No! You know what I believe. I believe you've been having an affair. And that you were just looking for a reason to leave. " You stand from the couch. "I know you. A one-time thing isn't you? You're an emotional person as much as you try not to be."

"I swear it's not like that. Please."

"No," you cut her off. "Just don't." You turn away from her. Tears blurring your vision.

"Please, I'm sorry," Natasha's voice cracks. She stands to come and get you to look at her.

"No," You turn around to push her away. "I said don't."

"I'm sorry. You can't imagine how sorry I am. I never wanted to hurt you. " She pleads.

"You never wanted to hurt me? That's such a fucking lie," You pushed her again. She allowed herself to move. "You throw away twelve years of a relationship for nothing? Please don't play with my intelligence. We just adopted another fucking baby. He's not even six months old and you mean to tell me you go and pull this?"

"Y/N, please. Just let me explain."

"What is there to explain? You fucked someone else. What can you explain? You had an affair. You've been having an affair." You began to pace. It was either this or you would start swinging. Neither of you needed that.

"No, Y/N, that's not it. Please."

"How long? How long has this been going on?" You turned to her. "I want the truth."

"It was one time," Natasha reiterated.

"Who is she?"

"Y/N, I promise it's not like that," Natasha shook her head.

"Stop lying," You yelled. "Just stop. You fucked someone else. And I want to know who the fuck she is."

"You don't understand. We can get past this. You're my wife. We're married. I can't lose you."

"I don't understand," You huff. "How could you do this to us? Who is she?"

"Baby, please," Natasha pleads with you.

"Who is she, Natasha?" You demand.

"A woman from HR at Stark Industries," Natasha finally says. "She was a temp. We met a few times over legalities and my contract. Though I swear it was only one time. In her office."

"Her office?"

"We were having lunch and she was leaving and her door was open. And the next thing I knew we were kissing. And I was sitting on her desk and she was fucking me." Natasha continued.

"You can't be serious," You practically scream. Anything to keep from bursting into tears.

"Please," Natasha steps closer. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Let me fix this. Don't leave me. We have a family. You can't."

"Don't touch me." You raise a finger. "I'm liable to do anything right now I'm so pissed. I can't believe this."

"It will never happen again," Natasha promised.

"Yeah, but it already has," You remind her. "I-I-I can't breathe." You hold a hand to your chest. This is one of the most devastating things you've had to go through in your life. You wish you could go back to one hour ago. "I think I'm gonna throw up." You push past her. "I need to get out of here. I need some air."

"No, Y/N, please don't leave," Natasha begged. "Stay and let's talk about this."

"Fuck, you!" You yell.

"Let me make this better. Please, just give me a chance."

"I need to go."

"No," She grabbed your arm.

"Don't fucking touch me!" You shout. "Let me go. Let me go, now!"

"Baby, please,"

"No, just no," You yanked your arm away. You finally allowed the tears to fall. "How could you do this, Nat? How could you? What was it that wasn't enough for you? What wasn't I giving you that you had to go out and sleep with someone else?"

"I can't believe you would do this to us. We've been together ten years. We have kids. I can't even look at you."

"It was a mistake," She cried.

"Mistakes are forgetting your wallet. Mistakes are accidentally putting the car in reverse instead of drive. Mistakes are not throwing away the love of your life because you were drunk."

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I am leaving for the weekend," You begin. "I will call my lawyer first thing Monday morning."

"What, no."

"I want a divorce," You announce. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear your voice. I will be back for the kids and I will be filing for sole custody."

"Y/N, wait," She tried to follow.

"Do not follow me," You warned. "Do not try to call or text me. You stay the fuck away from me."

"You can't just take my kids away from me," She argues. "Divorce is crazy. We can work through this. I can work through this."

"Oh, trust me, I'll take everything. You've broken my heart. I'll make sure you feel that same pain. If not worse. Now stay the fuck away from me," You warn.

"You're not the vengeful type," Natasha protested. "I know this hurts but putting the kids through a custody battle?"

"You weren't the cheating type either but I guess we can still learn new things about each other," You begin to collect your things. "I want a divorce. I want full custody. And I want you as far away from me as possible."

"And if I won't give it to you," Natasha challenges.

"I will ruin you," You threaten. "I'll take your bank accounts. I'll take the kids. I'll make sure you can never work again. And I'll take all your friends. I will make sure no one will ever trust you again."

"What are you talking about? Y/N, come on."

"Don't you 'come on' me," You shake your head. "I hope she was worth it."

You leave the house, slamming the front door behind you. How could she do this?

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you

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mintmatcha · 1 year ago

Text

MONSTER FUCKING

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons

The night continues with Obsidian.

cw: cisfem reader, feminine nicknames, female receiving oral, OC x reader, monster fucking, a TINY BIT OF DUBCON, overstimulation

PART TWO OF TWO (Part one: here)

a/n: again, big thanks to @saetyrn9 and @tyga-lily <3

He doesn’t return until the fire is burnt low, nothing but embers. His figure is nothing but a silhouette against the hall light as he creeps, doing his best to move silently around the room. His dirty clothes are replaced by the sheerest of shirts and pants, thin enough that even in the low light you can see how his scales shimmer in hue, purple and green where the firelight touches. Every now and again he throws a glance towards you, tucked neatly on your side of the bed, and then sighs, low and forlorn.

It feels wrong to watch him while he thinks you’re asleep. Even alone, he makes his movements so small, crouching to take up little space as he fiddles about, oiling his scales and the other mundane things he has to do before sleep. It hits you that he might be insecure about the space he takes up.

The world is not kind. It is tragedies and maladies, injustice and inhumanities. Tensions are always simmering under the surface, chaos always threatening to boil over. Horrible, awful things plague this world and not a single person is left untouched or unchanged.

Through all of that, Obsidian somehow remained gentle. That’s what you admire most of him- the softness he carries himself with. There’s a bitter edge that clings to you, a callus that won’t come off of your palms. He treats you well anyway, despite it all.

“You never got to ask your questions,” you say, voice only just louder than the last licks of fire.

Obi starts at the sound of your voice, then his shoulders soften. He drags himself to the edge of the bed, hands folded politely in front of him like a scolded child. He smells faintly of lemon and soap: soft, sour, and refreshing.

“Why are you still awake?” he whispers, affection honey sweet in his tone. He reaches to grab your ankle, then hesitates before dropping back to his side. “My curiosities can wait for another day.”

The night air is cool against your cheeks and the sheets are not thick enough. Obi, in all his emotional and physical warmth, is just out of reach. When you extend an arm for him, he doesn't meet you at first, hemming about like a child. It’s goofy, for such a grown man to seem so shy- you have to bite your lip to hold your smile back.

Instead of waiting for him, you peel back the sheets and crawl to him. It’s impolite and unladylike, but it earns you a smile from him and an outstretched hand. This time, he doesn’t pull away when your fingers loop with his, instead closing tight.

“I’m sorry Kiri said all that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for her behavior,” he says, eyes never leaving the spot he’s chosen at the end of the bed, “I heard how you… scolded her.”

The innkeeper had threatened to kick you all out after the way you berated the poor girl, screaming in the hallway in just your nightgown, but the elf had deserved it. She’s barely older than a teenager in elf years, you remind yourself, but that isn’t an excuse for bad behavior.

Tomorrow, when the sun is up and emotions aren’t high, you’re sure the group will discuss it all, but for tonight, you want to tend to Obi’s wounds.

“Was I too harsh?” You trail a thumb across the back of his hand. Knees on the mattress, he’s still much taller than you, able to rest his chin on your head if he wanted.

“Too harsh? No,” The hint of amusement you’ve come to love is back in his voice, “Too loud? Debatable.”

Imitating you, he drags his thumb back and forth in comfort, the rounded nail grazing against your skin. Finally, he meets your eye, the green piercing even in the night. The feeling of want is thick, slowing every breath as if your ribs are stuffed with molasses, and all you can think is that you hope he feels this too-- hope he wants this too.“I appreciate you standing up for my honor.”

“Always,” you say. A heat drips into your core as you realize his claws are trimmed and rounded-- just for you. “Anything for you.”

You rest a hand against his chest and wait in the silence, savoring the luxuriant feelings that fills your throat: want and need and desire and greed and contentment and bliss-- all a muddle you can’t swallow again, filling you, but also leaving you with a hunger that can’t be sated.

“You should rest,” he says as he slides his arms around you, grabbing handfuls of cloth.

“Ask your questions first.”

Verdant eyes flicker down, marked by his chittering. It’s like a purr, you realize-- a sound of pure contentment. Feline is the way he moves, elegant and fluid.

“Does it really feel good-” His knuckle drags down your chest and hints over the apex of your breast, “When these are touched?”

He hesitates there, a breath away from you, wondering, hoping. The air crackles a bit wilder with magic for a moment- a response to his excitement.

“Obi,” You loop a finger under the strap of your nightgown and guide it off of your shoulder, pushing the neckline dangerously low. “Do you like my tits?”

“You should know that it’s very cheeky to answer my question with a question,” he leans forward and bumps his head against yours, nuzzling ever so slightly The ridges and tiny horns ruffle your hair and all you can do is giggle and squirm into it, bumping your noses together. His touch has wandered dangerously low, cupping under your ass and lifting you into him.

Then, he sobers, voice lower than ever.

“Yes.” He takes the satin edge between his fingers and delicately, carefully, lovingly moves the other strap down the other shoulder, guiding it until your breasts fall free. Obi swallows thickly, then runs his tongue across the upper ridge of his teeth as he takes in everything about you. “I like them very much.”

His nose is textured against your skin, grooved yet smooth against your clavicle. Each breath is released so slowly that it blooms with heat, crawling across your chest as he moves down, loving every inch above your breasts. The journey is marked with kisses and nips, the lightest touch of his teeth. The way he reveres the boring parts of you makes your heart flitter and, by the time he’s sucking a bruise into the fat of your tit, your body is trembling for him too.

“I didn’t realize they were so…” Teeth sink into your tit, testing the give. The other is cupped by his wide palm, lifting it into the side of his muzzle. “Malleable.”

When he opens his jaw again, wider this time, it’s marked with the click and suck of wet. Strands of spit string together for a fleeting moment, following his panting tongue.

Oh, he’s no longer feline. He’s closer to a dog, feral and drooling for you.

The rough edge of his tongue dragging against your nipple rips a gasp from you, but it only serves as a siren’s call. His body presses into yours, folding your legs back and forcing you back into the down of the bed. The sheets crunch under you as you’re moved by the force of the way he indulges. You should scold him or warn him of the way you’ll bruise in the morning, but a heat consumes every aspect of you, robbing you of any thought. The scorch of his mouth, the delicious drip of spit trickling down your ribcage, the ambient heat that’s simply him- it all ignites that pulling, twist, blazing heat in your core, a fever you can’t sweat out.

Obi pulls away just enough to look at you through slitted eyes.

“My fawn,” he purrs, “Now you are being too loud.”

His hand grips your side hard enough that even the trimmed edge aches.

“People are going to hear you,” he continues, tongue dragging down the sweat touched valley between your breasts, “They’re going to know you’re being bedded by some beast."

That makes your stomach flip, then flip again, tying your insides into a sickly knot. Your hands find the ridge of his horns on their own. Their length is surprisingly long for his age, more than enough for you to tug and stop his descent. Obi glances up at you, giving you the reprieve you need. Both of you lay there, breathing in sync.

"Don’t say things like that," you say once you've caught yourself, "I don't like that. You're not…"

Lemon oil, mixed with the pressing of some sort of shrub nut- that's what he oils his scales with. It makes his skin so soft and makes the air always marked with him.

"You're not some beast." You rub a thumb down the ridges of his horn, "You're my prince."

The words feel so corny coming out of your mouth. You're no wordsmith, unlike him, but you can see the statement physically hit. At first, he just slightly draws back, then his eyes go wide before becoming intensely soft. Then, he curls in, tucked his chin and resting his forehead against your collarbone.

"Oh," he says, voice on the brink of laughter, "Oh, my fawn, my princess--"

He squeezes your hips again. "You're going to shatter my heart one day, aren't you?"

Before you can respond, he's kissing you for real. It's different from anything else you've experienced with humans and elves; his mouth is different, firm lips unable to fully pucker. The feeling is strange, with too much teeth and pressure,but so, so, welcome.

Obi must enjoy it too; he shifts and writhes, finding his place between your awaiting thighs. You can feel how he grinds into the mattress, strokes long and slow and rough, searching for any sort of pressure. You want to touch him again-- no, need to. You need to see his cock for real this time, coax it out of his body for you to ride.

Another tug on his horns pauses him.

"Stop, just for a second," you say. He obeys, pulling back fully, and you untangle yourself from him.

"Are you alright?" Obi says, a tad dejected, "We can stop-"

You wriggle out of your slip and clumsily push it to the foot of the bed with your feet. A sliver of doubt wrangles its way into your thoughts; even in the dim, you're sure he can see your body and all its imperfections, the scars, the marks, the bits you simply don't like: does he know what to expect? Does he even know what humans look like naked?

The room is cold without the fire going. You have to remind yourself who the man is on top of you. It’s not some stranger-- it’s Obi. Your Obsidian. A friend, a confidant, a brother in arms, and the kindest soul you’ve even met. It strikes you then that maybe you have feelings for him outside of all of those definitions, something closer to love than simple lust.

"I haven't shaved in a while, I'm sorry-"

"You have the body of a nymph," Obi blurts out, voice high with surprise, "You're exquisite."

His pupils are fully round, engulfing almost all of the iris as he soaks in the sight of you.

"Human's do not like this?" He leans down, head just below your belly button, examining when your body meets your cunt. His fingers run through your pubes, "But it's so…"

Mid-sentence he halts, mouth parted just enough that you can catch the jagged edge of his fangs. He swallows deep breaths, sucking more and more until his chest is puffed against yours. Strong, forceful hands loop under your knees and cram your legs apart. You squeal and kick, giddy in your embarrassment and barely able to contain your laughter.

"Oh, you smell so good," he exhales each word, only inches from your cunt. He’s pressing into you, almost folding you in half so he can creep into the bed with you. "That's your quim? That's what you've been hiding?"

He traces two fingers up the clef, admiring it even closer than ever. The rumble in his chest, the purring, is so grand that it shakes your thighs. Like this, strung up and spread apart, you feel so exposed, so vulnerable. You muster up even more embarrassment when fingers part your lips and his steamed breath tickles your most inner parts.

“Don’t look so closely!” you scold, but he doesn’t listen.

"Humans get so wet." You try to close your knees on instinct, but the mass of his body stops you, "Is this usual? Do you always?"

"Only when-- a-aa-ah-"

You find out that he was not looking for an actual answer. Obi takes you by the hips and drags you down into his muzzle, wasting no item before dragging that damned tongue across the entirety of you. He's eager and unaimed, licking and sucking and drooling across every inch of you except where you want him. The crest of his brow digs into the puff of your mound, blocking you from reaching down and playing with your clit yourself.

The want, the need-- it's dizzying. Words fail you every time you try to speak, your comprehensibility robbed by the hiccupped whines Obi is pulling from you. Teetering on this edge is deliciously painful, but you're already losing patience.

Frustrated, you grind your hips down and Obi's nose bumps against your clit. The pressure makes your body sing, so you do it again and again, claiming your pleasure on your terms. A laugh rumbles through your skin as Obi chuckles and obliges, lapping at exactly where you need him too.

Heat sears through you as you cum: hard. It's almost a surprise, boiling over when you least expect it. It’s a flex and release of your muscles, a quick, simple thing that gives you just enough release. It’s nothing life changing, but it’s better than what you get with most men.

You breathe and wait for Obi to move or comment, but he's still, waiting for you to pick up your pieces.

"That was nice." You say after a bit, "Now, why don’t you come here and let me ride you?"

Whe he doesn’t respond, you sit up slightly, only to be caught. A hand presses down on your stomach and locks you in place against the mattress. Dark eyes glance up at you, narrowed.

"Stay still," he says, voice rougher than ever, "I can do better than simply 'nice.'"

Immediately, you regret teaching Obi where you liked to be licked. He abuses that knowledge, focusing on your poor, overstimulated clit until you're nothing but whimpers. Your brain cant think when he's touching you; all you can do is whine. Reaching and grasping for hair that isn't there, your nails run across his scales head and find no purchase.

Then, your own head is tapped by… something. You screw back and realize he's ran you into the fucking wall; you have to extend both hands to stop yourself from being crumpled even further.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit--" This one's going to be big. You can feel it rolling in, coming like a wave.

Two thick fingers press inside you. If you weren't impossibly slick, the stretch would ache, but there's no friction left to resist the intrusion. He explores a bit, pumping and curling and-- there. That's all you need to tumble again, falling and falling and falling-

Until the drop hits.

You're left boneless. There's no resistance in your body as he adjusts you again, throwing your knees over his shoulders-

"Obsidian, no," You drum your heels against his back, "No, no, no, no, I can't take another--"

A deep, rolling growl fills the room as he squeezes tighter, locking you together as his long, firm tongue presses inside of you. You realize he’s speaking an unfamiliar tongue-- Draconic, most likely. It’s sultry tones and clicked vowels, rolling deep and slow into one long slurred sound. Maybe he’s scolding you, maybe it’s praise: you don’t care. He holds you like he owns you-- like he controls you, and you find that you like that.

“Please, please, please, just fuck me already-” You find yourself blabbering, “Need you, need it, just-- oh, Gods and Stars-- Please fuck me, please--”

You clutch on to the mattress and hope the world stops spinning. “On me--- in me, just-- Gods, fucking cum already-”

“No,” Common slips from his mouth, “Not yet.”

The night is a blur after that. There’s no possible way to count how many times you cum; they all roll into one in your mind, an unstable peak. He’s everywhere, he’s everything. You always imagined him as a patient lover, but you’re quickly proved wrong. He’s mean and demanding, drawing everything from you until the ache in between your ribs grows unbearable. Slick runs from your thighs to your knees, ruining the cotton beneath you both. The unbearable sounds of wet fill the room, marked by your occasional protests.

You hate him, you think. Maybe you love him. You can’t tell when your brain is absolutely swimming in dopamine.

“‘m gonna pass out,” you whine, weakly batting a hand against his forehead. The dragonborn pulls away with a dot of a kiss, finally listening.

“Then do, fawn.” Obi’s chest and face shine with a mixture of your excitement and his spit, “Sleep. That doesn’t bother me.”

With that, he spreads you open again. You eventually do drift off, too overstimulated and absolutely fucked to even keep your eyes open. There has to be something to it. The taste? The smell? Dragonborns are more sensitive to pheromones, you think. Maybe he's high off of you?

No, it’s too focused to be solely for him; it must be for your pleasure. He must get some sort of sick fucking satisfaction from unraveling you down to your very core and then continuing. You feel unwound, a ball of yarn left to uncoil and flounder in the breeze

In the moments of twilight between sleeps, you manage to catch him moving, legs positioned around your rib cage as he whines, voice tight when he speaks. It’s mumbled nothings, ripping through his broken voice. Draconic seems to be paced so much slower than Common, each word rolling carefully slow off of his tongue.

Exhaustion sits so heavy that you can't keep your eyes focused. You have to keep one eye closed to even get a glimpse of what he's-

Oh.

Above you, inches away from your face, Obsidian Vyke fists his cock. Contrary to what he said, his body is not very similar to a humans. All of the important parts are there, of course, but the shape is much, much bigger, with a tapered end and ridges running down the bottom. It's an ashen purple, the same color as his skin under his scales, and his balls are a bit darker, hairless and slick with his precum. The head pulses every couple of strokes and you know he's dangerously close to cumming himself.

You want that. You’ve been begging for it this entire night and it’s there, inches from your face. That needs to be inside me, you think, but your poor pussy is twitching and raw from all the attention.

You settle for the next best thing.

With all the effort you can muster, you prop yourself up ever so slightly. You stick up your tongue and the pillow of his cock presses against it. It only takes a couple of kitten licks for him to spill; he crumbles into a whine and your mouth is suddenly painted with thick, potent seed.

It’s… different from other spend you’ve had the displeasure of tasting. Less astringent, more… you’re not sure. When your ex husband used your mouth, you always winced at the taste, but now you close your mouth and suck. His cock doesn’t stop kicking, dribbling more than a man could ever dream of producing. It’s hot enough that you flinch with it touches the back of your throat, but you don’t stop swallowing, draining it down as fast as you can.

The taste was enjoyable, you realize. You liked that, as if you were a common whore. Before any sort of shame can set in, Obi scrambles away, cooing and stroking the side of your face with his usual warmth.

“Oh, sweet fawn, you didn’t have to,” he says, “Let me get you something to spit that into.”

You shake your head and open your mouth again, tongue extended to show him it’s already gone.

"Little minx." Obi speaks with a wild amount of warmth and you bathe in it, letting your eyes close again. "Beautiful, dirty thing.”

There’s no way you’re beautiful now, with your makeup smeared and your hair ruined, but you choose to believe him. The swipe of a tongue against your cheek, comforting, not erotic, elicits a giggle from you. Gods, it hurts to even laugh.

“You’re dripping in sweat. I’m going to steal a towel to clean you up with, alright?” Obi pauses, presumably waiting for your approval, before hurrying about. You can make out the slip of fabric being pulled up, the creak of floorboards, the-

Sleep overtakes you.

The sun is much, much higher than you’d like it to be when you awake. The town is in full force, boys screaming the news, merchants peddling their wares, but you can’t seem to find the energy to join them. Not when the bed is so warm and welcome.

Obi is gone. He’s always been an early riser, so that doesn’t bother you much. Besides, you aren’t sure you want him seeing you like this, knock-kneed and drained as you try to gather yourself together. Down there is unbearably slick still, even after all the time that's passed, and that fills you with a sick excitement.

It’s not until after your bath that you feel remotely human again. The glitter and lust of last night begins to fade as you strap yourself into your clothes, but a relaxed giddiness still hangs on.

By the time you meander downstairs, the inn is busy serving lunch. The air is tinged with salt and spices-- the familiar kind you haven’t smelt in ages, let alone tasted. Familiar faces are crowded into one of the smaller booths, Obsidian’s comically large shoulders bumping against his two elf companion’s. Tensions have clearly calmed since last night. The elf is busy spooning bits of vegetables out of her stew and plopping them into the dragonborn’s.

“You must take my carrots. I know how you like them,” she demands, “And I’ll have your rabbit, since you don’t eat meat. Does that sound good to you, sorcerer?”

Obsidian is already obliging, cornering the bits he doesn’t want out of the bowl. “If that’s what you want.”

"You'll take this bread too. I grabbed an extra for you."

"Oi, you didn't grab any extra for me."

"The Sorcerer probably weighs fifty times what you do, he needs more."

Obsidian pats his stomach with concern. "Fifty times?"

“She awakes!” Tig, Kiri’s lover, croons, head in their hands as they notice you. They are just as lean and beautiful as Kiri is, but painted much, much fairer. “We feared you dead, Rogue!”

“Aye, both of you act as if I would leave her rotting,” Obi bemoans. Both elves turn to the poor man and coo, patting his shoulder comfortingly. Your speech clearly had some effect on the group and that deepens your giddy feeling.

“Did you bathe again?” Kiri hands her bread over to the dragonborn as promised, “I thought you had done so last night.”

You glance over at your… lover? Friend? You aren’t sure. He watches back, brow quirked, waiting for you to lead this dance.

“Just taking advantage of the water,” You reply as evenly as you can, taking the empty seat. Your relationship news to be figured out before you make it public knowledge, especially since your last relationship ended with such…

The dragonborn slides a roll across the table with a crinkle of his eyes, sparing you a train of thought you’re not emotionally ready for. It steams as you rip into it and cram it into your mouth. Hunger suddenly rips through your body and you perk up, searching for the source of this stew.

“Did you sleep well?” Tig asks between mouthfuls. They aren’t as proper as Kiri; they spread their legs wide and take up as much space as they can, holding their utensils like a shovel. If they weren’t so ethereal and genderless, you’d think that they were a half elf.

“Hopefully I didn’t keep you up,” Obi says, offhandedly, “I’d hate to think I kept you awake.”

Oh, that rascal. His nose scrunches as he tries not to laugh.

“You bothered me a bit,” you reply, equally placid, “But I don’t mind.”

“What a shame.” He takes a spoonful of the meal and chews it thoughtfully. Then, he pauses, pressing two fingers into the crook of his jaw. “I must have slept strangely because I woke with this awful ache in my jaw-”

A swift kick to the shin silences him.

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