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gumiluver · 8 days

Note

21&29 with nanami; like 21 for the beginning and reader is still shy especially when 29 comes into play :) fem reader pls 🥺

you don’t know just how heavy I fuck w this idea I’m so here for it!! hope you enjoy luv!! <3

prompt 21: "If you wanted me to fuck you then you should've just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you're my everything."

prompt 29: "Ohhh fuck—baby...did you know you could squirt?”

lover <3: nanami kento x afab!reader

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18--minors will be blocked (DNI), wc: 1.7k

cw: smut, nsfw, pwp, afab!reader, praise kink, manhandling, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, squirting, pet names (love, baby)

an: requests still open! check out the guidelines here for more info :)

border credit: @/cafekitsune, pic credit: oh5629289 on pinterest

“How long have we been together now love—two years and you’re still so shy f’ me?” Kento questions you, peppering soft kisses along the nape of your neck. His burly hands move along the sides of your hips, one slowly trailing upwards to cup and caress your left breast while the other molds around your hip, pulling a whine out of you in the process.

“C-can’t help it Ken’…you make me so flustered,” you whimper, pulling from his grasp to shy away from his intense gaze. He’s quick to grab your chin tho, forcing your eyes back to him to meet his sly gaze. Your shy nature easily amuses his, loving how quick you are to break your composure and fall for his ploy.

“Is that so, love? What makes you so flustered, hm?” he teases, an uncommon occurrence that makes your empty pussy clench helplessly. You whine and shift around in his hold, wanting to break away from your lover's grasp to hide under the covers and save yourself from his teasing. Your thighs squeeze together, aimlessly hoping to satisfy the deep ache that’s settling in your cunt and, of course, he takes note of that.

Nanami has always been so observant over you.

Like how he knows when you’re holding in your pleasure filled moans—the little scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow gives you away.

Or when you try and sneak a quick orgasm in after he’s warned you to hold it—the way your pussy clenches his tip for dear life even after he’s stilled your hips makes your plans damn well known to him.

And even when you’re trying to hide how horny you are—like how you are now—he can tell; from the way you shy away from his touch and overt your gaze as if he were the apple of sin you couldn’t help but sink your teeth in.

And he fucking loves it. He loves getting to see your agitated and flustered state—it inflates his ego like no other. To see you, the most beautiful being he’s ever laid his eyes on, become so enamored and needy for him has him feeling like a fucking god.

“What is it, baby? You can tell me. What is it that you need me to do—say it,” he demands, pressing you deeper into the wall, grinding his hard cock into your clothed pussy. The moan that spills from you fuels Nanami’s head with even more sinful deeds he’d love to corrupt you with.

“I-I need…” you trail off, panting like a bitch in heat over how flustered he’s got you. You let out a small whine, feeling his left knee shift between your legs to press against your slick mound, rubbing his strong thigh against you to provide you with the pleasure your body oh so craves.

“Yes? What do you need love,” he whispers, moving the hand on your hip to place a light grasp around your neck, holding you steady and meeting your gaze.

“Ahh!! K-Kento please!!” you beg, unsure of what exactly it was you were even begging for—but nonetheless, you plead. The pleasure pulsating through your sweet cunt sends shockwaves, hitting deep within your soul and making you preen.

“Say it. Be good and tell me what you need,” he groans out, patience wearing thin at the feel of your heat leaking through your panties and onto his slacks. His tan pants presenting a wet spot on the thigh that’s pushed up to your cunt—how lewd.

“N-need you…in me…” you whimper out, shamefully closing your eyes to save yourself from the embarrassment that is begging for dick.

But fuck did it make his cock throb hearing it.

The second he hears your pretty plea, Kento makes haste in stripping you of your clothes and sprinting to the nearest surface he can find.

“If you wanted me to fuck you then you should’ve just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you’re my everything,” he coos, hovering his hulking body over your smaller one. Sheepishly, you glance away from him to gawk at his toned body. Ripples of muscle decorate his form as his tanned skin glows a pretty shade of pink, no doubt from the sheer excitement coursing through his veins.

He brings a hand upwards to cup your chin again, wanting to make sure that your wandering eyes don’t miss all the fun that’s about to start, “keep your eyes on me love—don’t look away.”

His demanding tone a clear contradiction to his usually gentle demeanor, making your mouth fall dry and your pussy run wet. You nod quickly, making direct eye contact with your lover's hazel eyes, and the hum of approval he lets out makes you clench your thighs that are hung around his waist.

Slowly, he rubs the tip of his cock against your folds, carefully collecting the slick that escapes from your pussy to thoroughly coat his cock—all while gazing intensely at you. After all, he didn’t want to miss seeing your face morphed into that pleasure-filled look he positively yearns to see.

A whiny cry of his name pulls him back to reality, ripping his gaze away from yours to stare down at your entrance and fuck—what a fucking mess.

“Ohhh baby, look at you,” he groans loudly, smacking the tip of his cock against your soaked cunny. Lewd ‘plap’ ‘plap’ ‘plaps’ radiate against the room with the way his heavy cockhead smacks against your clit. You’re quivering now, moving your hips to avoid the torturous teasing that your sorcerer subjects you to.

And just as you were about to whine for him to just put it in, you felt his heavy tip catch against your little hole. Gasping, you frantically reach for his biceps, nails digging into the skin as he slowly feeds you his monstrous cock.

“Ha’aaahh—kentooo!” you cry out, unable to comprehend the sheer stretch that is his girth. Regardless of how many times you’ve taken Kento, or how long he spends between your thighs prepping you, nothing could ever mentally prepare you for the actual feeling of his cock splitting you open.

“I know baby I know—just a c-couple more inches, fuckk,” he groans, glancing up at you every so often to make sure you’re still being his good girl and watching everything he does, “being so good for me.”

It felt like eons have passed before Kento finally sheathes himself fully into you. But, as soon as he’s inside you, he’s quick to unsheathe and start up a brutal pace.

“I-I can’t!! Oh f-fuck—slow do-own Ken’!!” you whimper out, his sharp thrusts breaking up your sentence. He fucks you with a passion that rivals that of a warrior, composed and dead set on his goal of fucking you to completion. He wants to ingrain himself into your womb, wants your pussy to react to his touch, his voice—and his alone.

“Fuuuuck this pussy’s perfect for me love, keep your legs spread—yeaaa just like that,” he grunts, absolutely lost in a haze of lust and pleasure. He’s so pussy drunk on you that he doesn’t even realize just how far gone you are. His usually observant nature completely bypassed the way he could only see the whites of your eyes, how your body is shaking—convulsing even, and just how sensitive your body is slowly starting to feel. Your pussy’s fluttering ridiculously, spasming around his thick shaft so much so that it felt like his cock was getting massaged by your womb. The wetness of your cunt made the nastiest sounds, filling the air with a lewd atmosphere that screamed sex.

But something felt…different.

It felt…off.

You jolt upwards—or at least tried to, considering how quick Nanami was to push you back down, not wanting to let up on his precious girl.

“K-Kento it feels weird!!” you cry, pushing at his arms to try and escape his ruthless pounding, but it’s pointless—he’s got you caged in his arms, right where he wants you.

“s’okay love, let me make it feel good—can feel you squeezing my cock so nicely, fuuckk” he lets out an animalistic grunt, pressing more of his body weight into you to immobilize you. You let out a long, languid moan, the feeling of his tip proding in places you didn’t even realize he could reach was making you see galaxies rather than stars. But yet again, that same foreign pressure began to burn deep within your womb, almost as if you were going to explode.

“N-nooo, p-please!! It feels like I—ahhh—…feels like m’gonna…” you trail off, unable to formulate your words. You’re panting so much that all you could do was move your hands to his chest in a measly attempt to push him away.

“Gonna what, love? Gonna cum? Come on baby, give it to me—cum for me,” he grunts out, his voice going octaves lower—so much so that you could feel the reverb of his voice hit your clit. His thrusts move quicker and with much more vigor, aiming to push you over the edge. Sneaking a rough hand down to your mound, he maneuvers his thumb to find your pink pearl and circles it in that specific way that makes you go fucking crazy.

And that final motion was what came of your undoing.

A bright flash of white obscures your vision, and the sheer ecstasy that courses through your veins sends you into an early release that spills all over your lover's pelvis. Nanami’s eyes widen in shock, seeing the guttural force of your orgasm shake the literal wind out of you makes his pride swell like none other. He couldn’t believe it; who could’ve known that his perfect little angel could do something so…lascivious—so sinful.

“Ohhh fuck—baby…did you know you could squirt?”

an: the way this man makes me go absolutely feral…anyways, I hope you all enjoyed & requests are still open!! Please be sure to check the guidelines before you submit a request!! <3

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months

Text

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 2

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: omg guys the love part 1 received has been so amazing. I seriously am so happy you're all loving this fic as much as me. As someone who hasn't written in so long it's been so fufilling to write this. Thank you for all the kind words. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): SA, starting to get a little steamy

Word count: 2704

(all photos are from pinterest)

The next morning I woke with a certain lightness to my step that I knew shouldn’t be there. My hands skimmed over the countless dresses looking for just the right one. All of the sudden I had started caring more about my appearance for council meetings. Deep down I know why.

I meet my brother and Lucien in the foyer per usual, and I feel Lucien’s fiery gaze rake over the lavender chiffon draped over my body. I told myself that I had selected the revealing dress because of how hot the Day court was, but I think I had other motives backing my choice.

The Day Court, like all other courts, was utterly beautiful. Large pillars stood all around and like the summer court it was entirely open air, allowing the sunlight and breeze to float into the room. I sit between Lucien and Tamlin at a large table with the other High Lord’s and nobility. My eyes scan the room for a hint of that violet that I dreamt about last night but I don’t find it. It isn’t until a few minutes later, when my skin starts buzzing, that the High Lord of Night steps into the room. His presence commending, his eyes immediately finding mine.

I feel him pluck at the bond as if to say hello. After speaking to him through my mind for so long it was almost strange to see him in real life. Somehow he was always much more handsome in person. Like no matter how many times I tried to put together the image of his face at night it never compares to the sheer glory and presence of him.

As Helion began speaking a voice crawled into my head.

I’m glad you find me so glorious, darling.

“Shh you nosey High Lord. I’m trying to listen,” I silence him and to my surprise he obliges.

Helion talks on and on and of course there is arguing between Kallias and Beron as there usually is but I couldn’t begin to tell you what about. I spend the entire meeting noticing every move the High Lord of Night made. When he breathed, or flexed his hands, adjusted his spot on his seat. Whenever I felt his eyes sliding over to me I would do my best to evade them.

See something you like? I look over to him and find his eyes smirking.

“Yeah actually, Eris is looking especially delicious today,” I tease, I don’t break eye contact with him.

He chuckles brushing off my comment. You’re a vision in purple mate, but if Lucien looks at your cleavage one more time I might just leap across the table and rip his only good eye out.

“So violent,” I muse disapprovingly, looking towards where Kallias is speaking about potential war with Hybern.

I save my most brutal acts of violence for those who seek to harm you darling. My eyes flit back at him and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he averts his gaze back to Kallias.

“Enough talk of war my friends, let us adjourn this meeting until next week.” Helion finally says, causing the rest of the council to let out a breath.

Tamlin doesn’t say a word before he and Lucien stand and make a beeline to Tarquin, most likely to talk about problems we’ve been having on the border. I take it as my queue to walk around the Day Court’s terrace and I secretly hope that a certain High Lord follows me.

The Day Court and the Summer Court are like twin sisters. Except the Day Court always felt like liquid gold. All around me I could see clouds and honeyed sunlight peeking through the them. The rays warmed my skin as I basked in them, leaning against one of the many large pillars.

“I knew you’d look amazing in this light,” drawled that voice I had secretly wanted to hear.

I glance over to find The High Lord admiring me, the light of the Day Court doing wonders for him as well. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, trying to act like I mean it.

“Yet you wanted me to follow you,” he smirks knowingly, slowly stepping towards me.

“What makes you say that?”

“This,” he says, pulling on the bond again. I take a sharp breath in and he chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that reaction.”

“I really hate it when you do that,” I grumble.

“No you don’t,” he muses using one arm to cage me into the pillar I’m leaning against.

“Yes I do,” I affirm. His other hand lifts my chin to meet his stare.

“No you don’t, you don’t hate anything about me. In fact you think I’m beautiful,” he smirks, somehow stepping even closer to me. “And, you want me to touch you right now, your skin is practically on fire for it.”

“My Lord-”

“I told you to call me Rhysand,” he cuts me off. I want to lie and tell him no, I want to push him away but I fear that even the action of me touching his chest, even for a moment, would be too much for me to bear.

“Rhys,” I breathe out. Before I can even think his lips are on mine swallowing the breath that held his name, just like he promised.

The kiss is hot and needy, built up from the last two weeks of torture. One of his hands finds my face while the other finds my waist. His frame presses me into the pillar behind me. I feel my body ignite in a way I didn’t know possible, I need him closer. I pull on the lapels of his jacket earning a low grumble from him.

“Say it again,” he says between kisses.

“Rhysand,” I moan, his name like a prayer on my lips.

“Fuck,” he groans before sliding a hand down under my knee and hoisting it up to wrap around his waist. The slit in my dress parted for him, giving him full access to my bare leg. I feel his lips drag across my neck leaving opened mouth kisses on me. I practically come undone for him, the only thing keeping me upright are his hands and the pillar behind me.

In the distance I can hear footsteps clicking across the floor, in a panic I winnow both of us further away. He breaks apart the kiss and gives me a bewildered look.

“Sorry, someone was coming,” I say breathlessly.

“Let them see,” he grins before stepping closer to me. I take a step back and he halts his movements, surprised.

“We can’t, my brother will kill me, kill you.” I remind him.

He lets out a chuckle like he’s completely unphased, “I promise you that I hold more power in my pinky than Tamilin does in his entire body.” he boasts.

“Still,” I start. “You’re the High Lord of the Night Court, his sworn enemy, my court's sworn enemy. Think of what they would say about me if the truth came out. What they would say about you. You’d be the monster who stole away the princess of spring.” I ramble.

“I’ve been called a monster by those who know nothing but stories of me my whole life, what’s one more?” he states.

“I’ve heard stories of your court, that it’s the part of Prythian where the most feared monsters and beings of our kind reside,” I say fearfully. I start to remember who he is. Not just a pretty face, but the High Lord of the Night Court. He’s dangerous, and he is a monster.

“Part of that is true,” he affirms, and I can see a tinge of hurt in his eyes.

“And the other part?” I ask on bated breath.

“You’ll see soon enough mate,” he says.

“My Lord we cannot be together,” I state firmly.

“Back to formalities now are we?” he sighs. “I’ve waited 500 years to find my mate y/n, don’t think for one second that I’m going to stay away from you just because you’re afraid of that pathetic excuse for a brother.”

“He’s not pathetic, he loves me!” I growl.

“You don’t know half the things you think you do about your brother,” he sneered.

As much as I hated to admit it he was right. Tamlin and I had never truly been close. We hardly ever did anything together. I always sensed a darkness in him that I couldn’t place. There was so much he simply refused to tell me just because I was a woman. But I couldn't bear that truth to Rhys, not when I needed his silence.

“This conversation is over,” I huff before walking away, I feel him grasp my arm.

“No darling it’s not,” Rhys says with frustration in his eyes.

“Wanna bet?” I ask smugly before winnowing back to the Spring Court.

The next few days I don’t hear from Rhysand, and I don’t feel a tug on the bond. All of the sudden my life is filled with a sense of melancholy, I never had before. I had grown so used to his constant tugging on the bond or his remarks throughout my daily life that I felt a little empty without him.

So empty that I now found myself nudging around the food on my plate at dinner. Lucien had been out with the emissary of the Summer Court fixing the problems on the border, which meant it was just me and Tamlin.

We spend the whole meal in silence until he finally breaks it, “I have something I want to discuss with you,” he says, placing his napkin down on the table.

“What is it?” I ask, starting to wonder if maybe he saw me and Rhysand the other day.

“I’ve been talking with Beron Vanserra, and it seems that his eldest son Eris has taken a liking to you. We think it might be in the best interest of our two courts if you two were to marry.” he says casually, as if the words weren’t a huge punch to the gut.

“What?” I breathe in disbelief.

“Come on y/n this has always been our plan, to get you an advantageous marriage.” he reminds me, irritation laced in his voice.

“Not my plan Tamlin, yours.” I seethe. “Eris is a viper, I won’t marry him.”

“You’ll do as you're told and that’s final!” he screams slamming his fists down on the table making the silverware rattle.

I leave my plate full of food on the table and get up. If I wasn’t hungry before I certainly am not now. I leave the dining room and make sure to slam the door on my way out. The halls of the palace were dark save for the moonlight drifting through the windows. My mind was a mess of Tamlin’s words, I was so angry I could hardly think beyond it. At the end of the hall there was a door and even from where I was I could see the doorknob turning. A head of red hair popped through the door and Lucien stumbled to close it.

I kept my head down trying to avoid him but it was no use. The second he passed me his hands were on me shoving me into the nearest wall.

“Hello my flower,” he slurred.

“You’re drunk Lucien,” I pointed out, jerking my head away.

“Yes I suppose I am, the emissary for the summer court knows how to celebrate. We went to a tavern after completing the job on the border to indulge in some women and maybe a few drinks,” he chuckled.

“Yeah a few hundred drinks you fucking idiot,” I gripe trying to get out of his grasp but his hands only pin my wrists tighter.

“It was fun, but being around all those women made me long for my little flower,” he smiled drunkenly before kissing my neck.

For months now he’s been doing this, stealing touches whenever he could, and kissing my neck like this when he was feeling really bold, or in this case, drunk. He never took it further than that though. Never kissing, never fully fucking me, and I think it’s because he knew that it would be where Tamilin drew the line. But tonight he was drunk, in a way I had never seen him before, and I wasn’t sure if the line that had held for so many months would be held now.

“Get the fuck off me Lucien,” I growl trying to push him off again.

He completely ignores me, “You know my dear I’ve let my hands wander every expanse of this magnificent body, but I have yet to taste you,” he says lowly. “I think I’m going to change that.”

I don’t even get a chance to try and fight before his lips are on mine. He tastes like shitty whiskey and he smells like cheap perfume. It’s vile and it has me sick to my stomach. I find my opening to rip my lips off him and take it.

“Lucien what the fuck!” I scream in his face. His eyes just go down to my heaving chest, where my breasts are pushed up high due to my corset.

“And these,” he drawls before placing open mouth kisses on the peaks of my breasts. His hand lets go of my wrist and flies to my waist to pull me closer to him and I take the change of position as an opportunity to knee him between his legs.

His knees hit the ground and I run down the hall towards my room. I slam and lock the door as fast as possible, barricading myself in with a chair. I pace back and forth trying to dispel the pent up adrenaline that’s inside of me but in the end I sink to my knees and start to cry.

What happened?

That calming voice cleaves its way through my mind and it feels like a huge weight off my chest has been lifted.

“It was Lucien he tried to…” I let my voice trail off not even wanting to finish the sentence. I know the High Lord of Night is at the complete other end of Prythian but I swear I feel the ground beneath me tremble.

Did he? He asks, like he would winnow here right now and make due on his promise of ripping out his good eye.

“No, I fought him off,” I assure him.

Are you safe?

“As safe as I can be, I barricaded the door,” I say, as my heart rate calms down.

You shouldn’t have to live in a place where you have to barricade yourself in your room.

“Well I do so I’m handling it the best I can,” I gripe at him. I would gladly change the situation if I could but I can’t. There's a silence and I can feel him ruminating over my words as I crawl into bed.

I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it like that.

“It’s okay I understood what you meant,” I say pulling the covers up to my chin like they might protect me.

And I’m sorry for what I said about Tamlin. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you, he’s your brother, of course you’re going to defend him.

“It’s okay, maybe everything you said about Tamlin wasn’t entirely false,” I confess remembering the conversation that had me fleeing the dining room in the first place.

What happened?

A moment passes and I think about telling him. But saying it almost makes it real and I choose not to, “I’d rather not talk about it now. Too much has happened tonight,” I say

Alright we won’t then. I sense disappointment in his voice but I am happy that he respects my wishes.

“Rhys?”I ask, and there’s a hesitation there.

Yes darling? He purrs and I can hear him practically swooning at the fact that I said his name.

“I don’t wanna be alone, will you stay up with me?” I confess feeling like I’m baring my soul.

Of course I will darling, all night if you want me to.

Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88

(I've never made a taglist so hopefully this works)

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar

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luvtism · 5 months

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hello! do you have any resources/guides for the sntry css builder? tysm and sorry if this is troublesome!

Well get ready! Doll is about to explain a lot of things! One of the most important things is html coding! It's almost a requirement if you want to do sntry builders! Especially tricky ones. You can find templates, sure! But what if the template has issues that you dont know how to fix? Then you're screwed! Click below for a full explanation of points that come to mind! (Disclaimer: Doll is not an html coder by any means! She's completely self taught!) Also resources at the bottom of this!

A few basics:

If you wanna import fonts into sntry, you need to link them with a download link. I've been people use catbox, filegarden, and much more to link it. The point is, you must have the ttf ready to download. Then you implement it into your html code like this:

This way, when you want to use it you type its name in the divider or item you want! Say, if i want it to be the overall font, i'd put it in p or body!

For scrollboxes, the most usual ones are the lace ones! Which look like this:

Usually you'll need to have the lace image and apply it with the border-image code! Most lace images will look like this image by the way! Also if you want it to scroll it's usually good to give it a set height, and then set overflow to auto. Sometimes it'll show the scroller horizontally too, but i fix that by writing overflow-x: hidden; (x for horizontal y for vertical).

Another thing is positioning , you have relative, absolute, fixed, and i forgot the last one! But heres a few notes from what I gathered!

Absolute: It will stay to one place and when you zoom out it'll stay in the exact place you left it at!

Relative: It'll be in relation to the position of the device! So 1080 x 1920 computer will position it differently than a smaller one! granted its usually relative hence the name.

Fixed: No matter if its zoomed out or in, it wont move form that exact position.

Resources

Scripted neocities!

This site has EVERYTHING you might need for codes! Fonts, backgrounds, cursors, text, everything!!! It's SOOOO useful 10/10 I highly advice u save it!

Pinterest:

Self explanatory but pinterest has a lot of people who post sentries for inspiration !!! It's so useful to have a hit of inspo for yourself! PLEASE REMEMBER the people who post are real and have boundaries! So if they ask you for credit, CREDIT THEM! I also have a pinterest, but right now I haven't posted anything except saving resources !!! Here's My board! (Follow doll please pspsps)

Carrds!

The reality is, a lot of the builder sentries you may see have been either made from scratch, or inspired by carrd creators. I suggest you google carrd pro tutorials to see the code the creators may use, and then customize it and make it your own!

Final thoughts!

Doll did not expect it to be so long !!!!!

Sentry builder is...

honestly pretty easy once you get the hang of it! Style codes, html, you can google a lot of the resources you may need which will give you a head start into what you may want!! Good luck out there!

#♡ ; talking #rentry #rentry inspo #rentry resources #rentry coding #sentry #sentry builder #sntry #sntry decor #sntry graphics #sntry resources #carrd stuff #carrd #coding #coding help #carrd pro

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blissfullyapillow · 1 month

Text

┃"I’ve missed you."

✧˖°. Blade x fem reader

✧˖°. wc: 1,393~

✧˖°. Prompt: When a character desperately misses their partner after being apart for far too long.

✧˖°. Warnings: smut/explicit (18+) & poetic cheesiness lol

✧˖°. Pillow Talks: I need Blade so badly.ᐟ.ᐟ Anyway, I’ve returned (temporarily) to deliver something that’s been sitting in my drafts for far too long now. I hope you enjoy .ᐟ (,,>ヮ<,,) <3

✧˖°. Masterlist

Credits: @/sillyakito on pinterest

The first time I heard Blade murmur “I’ve missed you,” I thought I’d imagined it. Blade is not someone who openly expresses his thoughts and feelings through words, rather he prefers to portray his feelings through meaningful actions.

I quickly realized I hadn’t imagined the shy words that left his lips, since his sharp eyes reflected uncertainty when they met my gaze.

I wasted no time pulling him into my arms, just so I could whisper my response against the shell of his ear.

“I missed you too.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Now it’s become something of a routine. Every reunion I celebrate with Blade, typically after one too many nights away from the comfort of his arms, the first words out of his mouth are always the same.

“I missed you.”

Those words never fail to warm my heart.

To reiterate; although Blade has his moments, he tends to favor action over words. So, it feels all too natural when innocent touches shift to something akin to a burning flame that lights my skin ablaze.

𓆩♡𓆪

The familiar caress of his rough palms cease in favor of gently lowering me beneath him. Now, I lay before him on my back as his imposing figure hovers over me. Eyes redder than the leaves on a maple tree hold my gaze. He conveys the ardent passion that resides within them through the fierce grip he has on my hip.

His intense gaze threatens to steal more than just my breath; my heart yearns to make a home in his rugged palms, my body surrenders to the eager strokes of his fingers along my inner thigh, all while my soul craves nothing more than to be forever intertwined with his, if only to experience his love in every life of mine.

His hand releases my hip so his arm can wrap around me, pulling both my body and my lips into his expectant embrace.

He takes his time to savor the taste of my lips. I feel the muscles within his arm tense. His body curls over mine as if he’s about to fall, yet his free hand rests beside my head to support his weight.

His lips release mine from its tantalizing captivity. A desperate gasp escapes his lips; my eyes eagerly open to witness his strained breaths and flushed cheeks.

I feel the muscles in his arm flex, the sensation eliciting a noise of surprise from me.

He smirks.

A well known sight that never fails to set my heart ablaze.

He lowers himself to press his weight against me, his free hand moves to rest on my lower back, flattening his palm against my feverish skin.

His mouth makes a slow descent, languidly savoring the taste of my skin as it memorizes every dip and curve. His lips linger on every mark and scar he happens upon, pressing endearingly long kisses against them.

The attention my body is receiving borders on being too much to bear. My heart hurts; it’s a surreal feeling, to be held so delicately, as if everything he’s ever come to love is held within his strong, unrelenting grip.

“I love you.” The words sound strained coming from my lips, perhaps due to the tears that wet my lashes.

His flattened palm moves, unhurried, ascending from my back to my face before it cups my cheek.

"love.. that word isn't enough to express how I feel about you."

Our kiss tastes a bit salty; his heartfelt admission broke the dam that held my tears at bay.

His mouth is reluctant to leave mine, avidly pursuing after my attempt to part for air.

I submit to the heady emotions Blade’s actions and words impose upon me, succumbing to everything that is Blade.

It’s… intoxicating.

My body burns with the passion Blade’s love inflicts upon me. His arm firmly holds me in place to prevent any possible chance I have of escaping.

Not that I’d ever want to flee; I find the very thought abhorrent.

When he's finally satiated, temporarily, his mouth pulls away. I desperately gasp in an attempt to acquire the oxygen my lungs have been denied.

I struggle to open my eyes, lost in my desire for the man holding me so close to his heart. Even so, my eyes reveal themselves as they naturally search for his gaze.

I’m met with an alluring sight.

His eyes are intently focused on my every move, devouring every subtle twitch of my muscles with his fervid stare.

It nearly causes me to shy away.

He dips his head, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. In almost an inaudible murmur, with the deepest voice I’ve heard from him to date, he groans.

“Tell me what you want, baby."

An embarrassing high pitched whine leaves my lips.

When the sound reaches Blade's ears, he emits another deep groan as his hips hotly buck against mine.

Unbeknownst to me, the sound of my desperate whine only stoked the fires of the urgent zeal that threatens to consume his very being; He’s afraid he’ll perish if he can’t savor the taste of his heart’s desire this instant.

So, with a newfound sense of urgency, he murmurs his question once more.

“Tell me what you want, baby."

My answer is so immediate I almost talk over him.

“You.”

A loud, breathy whine escapes me as his hand swiftly moves from my cheek to my thigh, effortlessly lifting my leg to rest upon his shoulder. His arm finally releases me from his firm grasp to lift my other leg onto his unoccupied shoulder.

Now, both my legs rest upon his shoulders as he cages me beneath him.

He unhurriedly drags his mouth down the expanse of my torso, playfully nipping at my skin as he travels to his destination. Now, between my legs, he presses a lingering kiss to my inner thigh. I jolt with a start when I feel his tongue lap at my arousal.

𓆩♡𓆪

I’m a moaning mess under him moments later, and his muffled grunts fuel my longing for him.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much with the noises you make,” he groans, thrusting his hips up into mine. I whimper softly, caging him in as my legs wrap tightly around his waist.

“Look at me.”

His request surprises me, but I’d be a fool to deny him. With great effort I open my eyes to look at him, and the rapture within his gaze captivates me like no other.

“Kiss me.”

His simple statement sends an electrifying jolt to my heart.

My lips are drawn to his like a magnet; our lips create a tight seal as his hips follow a relentless rhythm against mine.

I have no control over my voice as we reach our climax together. He holds me close, so close I can feel his heart pound against my own racing heart.

Blade slowly fills me up to the brim.

I swear nothing I’ve experienced prior has ever felt more satisfying.

Our tired bodies heave in unison as we catch our breath. Blade dips his head down to rest his forehead against mine.

I admire him as his chest slows its previous rapid rise and fall.

Aeons. He’s a sight for sore eyes.

His love presents itself in the soft smile on his lips, in the tender way his hand cups my cheek as he, too, admires my features. It manifests in the way he reaches over for the glass of water he kept nearby for this very moment.

The water slides down my throat with ease, it’s as rejuvenating as it is refreshing.

“I missed you.” His voice is a little hoarse, brimming with an uncharacteristic amount of emotion.

My hands delicately brush his hair aside.

He hums quietly, expressing his content with my actions.

“I’ve missed you too.” My voice drips with emotion, and Blade emits a pleased sound at this revelation. A soft noise of appreciation slips from my lips when he shifts his position so we can cuddle comfortably.

Sleep finds us easily that night. It acts as a warm blanket, while our dreams are the pillows beneath our heads.

Yet, the love I feel in my heart derives solely from the man sleeping in my arms.

Blade, the man who cherishes the heart that he holds so tenderly in his hands.

207 notes · View notes

joelmillers-whore · 7 months

Text

Choking Hazard

summary: you’ve been waiting for joel all day, waiting for him to fuck you like he promised. but when he discovers that you’d gotten yourself off earlier, he makes you pay for being disobedient.

recommended song(s): SLUT ME OUT - NLE Choppa

pairings: joel x reader

word count: 4.1K

series or one-shot

warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, no outbreak, joel miller x female!reader, SMUT, daddy joel can get it, orgasm denial, overstimulation, use of sex toys (vibrator), allusions to female masturbation, cum play, oral (male receiving), praise, slight degradation kink, dirty talk, dom joel, choking on cock, fingering but for only a second, rough blowjob, lots and lots of teasing, edging, pet names (mostly baby and sweetness, a lil darlin' in there too), porn without plot, cum facial, cum eating, spitting

A/N: JUST SOME GOOD ‘OL DIRTY SMUT FOR YOU ALL. i don’t know what this is but i saw a picture on pinterest of a pair of boxers that had the words ‘choking hazard’ written on the crotch and my dirty mind ran with it lol.

You’d been waiting not so patiently for Joel to get home from work and it was killing you. He’d left your whole body on fire, each searing touch licking at your flesh, each hungry look he gave another nail in the coffin for your pride. Because you wanted it— needed it, and he was all too aware of that fact.

You were so turned on that the slightest brush at just the right angle could knock into you and you’d probably cum on the spot. Your need was bad, and deadly, and it didn’t help much that Joel enjoyed it. He got a kick out of torturing you, holding your release just out of reach that you’d be willing to ruin yourself for a single moment of pleasure.

The taunting had become a test between you, each measuring your limits and how much you could take. This time was no different. With dark and rounded eyes, Joel had gripped you hard by your chin, almost painfully so, and demanded that you not touch yourself, not give into the temptation of your orgasm.

And then, he did the most menacing thing he had ever done. He left you alone and completely to your own devices, if not for a small keepsake of multiple and agonizingly strong bursts of tremors every hour.

Your nipples hardened into painful peaks, pressing into the abrasive material of your shirt and torturing you with equally blissful and confusing sensations. You snapped your eyes shut, rolling your head to the side as a powerful buzz rocketed through you, sending vibration after vibration shooting from your core, through the expanse of your body and settling low in your stomach, nudging you closer to your orgasm.

It was demented what he was doing to you; his little science experiment like you were some sort of fucked-out lab rat. It was drawn out and bordering on sadistic, and you couldn’t do anything but take it.

Before heading out for the day, Joel had instructed you to get on the bed and spread your legs. His voice had been low, lethal, the edge of it shooting straight to your core, turning you into a needy slut. You’d whined, and begged, but Joel wouldn’t have it.

It was his time, his moment, and he wasn’t going to allow you to take that away from him. You had thought that he would be kind, that he would leave you with a parting gift. Maybe an orgasm to satiate your hunger for him until he came back home. Instead, your lips turned down, your brows furrowing in confusion when he’d revealed a small box, holding up a strange-looking device.

Your core fluttered and came to life as you laid eyes on the toy. The pink, smooth vibrator promising endless pleasure that you’d happily give into. As you inspected it, your walls clamped around nothing, eyes dragging over the silicon material that curved at the end.

It reminded you of Joel’s cock and you bit down on your lip, suppressing a moan, not wanting to give Joel any more ammunition than he already had.

You were roughly pulled toward the edge of the bed, feeling Joel’s massive and calloused hands grip you, making you squirm away from his touch out of reflex. He grabbed your ankles, soft fingers contrasted against the strength behind his grip.

Each and every nerve was awakened, charged, as if at a molecular level, you had been starved. You’d be lying to yourself if you said that the way he was looking at you, through heavy lids, his eyes glinting with devilish intent, wasn’t turning you on. Because it was.

You both knew it. You could feel the prominent wetness in your underwear grow in size and at this rate, you’d be drenched by the time he got you out of them.

He wasted no time shimming you out of said panties, forcefully lifting your hips and tugging them down your legs. It was rushed, quick, as if at any second he could change his mind, alter his direction, and fuck you senseless instead.

You noticed the strain on his face, the way that the muscles in his neck were so tightly coiled you’d bet they would snap if you so much as breathed wrong. He was wound up as soundly as you were, suffering the same way you were, yet he let his feelings aside to fulfill a deeper desire.

With your soaked panties in one hand and his other gripping both of your ankles, he brought the material to his nose, inhaling your scent deeply, with purpose. He let out a rumbling groan, letting his eyes flutter closed as he relished in it, knowing that you were that wet for him. Only him. Only ever him.

Your chest squeezed, constricting in time with your quickened breathing, the anticipation was killing you. Your hairline was slick with beads of sweat, from both the rising temperature in the room, and the restraint that you were exhibiting. Because you were holding yourself back, waiting to see what came next.

Joel dropped to his knees, running his hands up and down your legs, almost tenderly, teasingly lighter than how he had been. It fucked with your head, how he was able to be both tender and punishing within such a short amount of time.

He inserted a single digit into you, your hips lifting, trying to escape the sudden intrusion. Joel held you firmly in place, his hand on your stomach crushing you into the mattress below. You’d thrown your head back, wiggling your lower half, trying to find something more than just his one finger.

He had shushed you, telling you to be patient and that he’d make you cum if you behaved. His words heated your skin, making your lower stomach cramp and sparking something primal within you. You wanted him to fuck you with wild abandon, not stopping when you cried out, begged him for some sort of reprieve, or when you gasped for breath.

You needed him carnally, in a way that would make the Gods weep. It was something you should be ashamed of, but then again, did you really care?

Your back naturally arched off of the bed when you felt him finally move inside of you, scissoring your hole, and curling his fingers, tickling the edge of your walls. A broken moan slipped past your lips, and incoherent begging mixed with panting came next. Your mind was in a fog, abuzz with lust. You continued to beg for it, begged for anything to make the pain stop.

Joel removed his fingers, chuckling darkly when you whined. His face was twisted in concentration as he replaced his fingers with the vibrator, the size of it stretching you out.

Your chest was heaving, feeling like a balloon ready to burst from the blinding pressure in your cunt. He inserted it inch by delicious inch, not stopping when you protested, telling him that it wouldn’t fit. He made some crude comment that he would make it fit.

You should have been turned off but your skin only tingled when he had said it. You felt his eyes watching you every second, not straying from your face as he studied you, curious to see how far he could push you, which limit would be too much for you.

He hummed in satisfaction when the device was fully lodged inside of you.

In your daze, you hadn’t been sure if you asked him aloud what he planned to do with you, or if you had just only thought it. But when his raspy voice cut through the dense air between you, you’d stilled. You’ll see, is all you had gotten from him.

It made your heartbeat thunder in your chest, hearing a teasing, but all the same, dark lilt dripping from his silky and usually warm Southern drawl. But it wasn’t warm today, it was cold.

Chilling you to the bone at his warning disguised as a promise. Joel got to his feet, leaning over your slack body, and gripped your chin, thumb digging into your bottom lip.

“Open”, he instructed, and you obeyed.

You opened your mouth, slowly. He towered over you, his face inches from your own. His dark brown eyes held no warmth, instead, they made you shiver when you looked into them. Which was an entirely new feeling for you. With an open mouth, Joel parted his own lips, letting a glop of saliva dangle off of his tongue, and let it drip into your awaiting mouth.

He snapped your jaw closed, watching your eyes curiously for any hint of disgust or refusal. Not that he’d let you refuse him in the first place.

“Swallow”.

Two words. Commands. And you were putty, willing to do whatever to please him. Your throat worked his spit down, swallowing it audibly. Joel’s lips quirked at the edges, his eyes shining with satisfaction. Wordlessly, he left you, heading out of the bedroom.

The room was silent, save for your harsh breathing. You heard the front door close, mistakenly thinking that Joel would be right back but you had been wrong. You shot up shakily, balancing your body weight on your elbows as you let out an annoyed puff.

Your head was spinning as you lay there, waiting for what, you didn’t know. You rubbed your thighs together, unsure of your next move. Joel hadn’t explicitly said that you couldn’t touch yourself and he wasn’t there to help you out. What was the harm?

A sudden and sharp buzz pounded into you, the jolt making you rip your hand away from your aching cunt, forcing a loud moan from you. Your toes curled from the onslaught of pressure building and you were panting, slick running down your legs.

You felt the warm tingling sensation that you craved. It began at the base of your spine, easing the knot that had been tangled in your stomach. It climbed higher and higher, your throat gulping bursts of air at a damning rate.

Your clit was on fire from the overstimulation of the continual vibrations, the pleasure bordering on painful. You were levitating off of the bed, head empty of every thought except your imminent release. Streaks of hot tears painted your cheeks, from the burn in your pussy, or the relief, you weren’t sure.

Your legs quivered in time with each drawn-out buzz, your orgasm cresting and a breath away from exploding out of you. Suddenly, everything stopped. The vibrations were gone, your release yanked from you. You whimpered, crying out into the empty room as if someone could hear you.

What the fuck? Your breathing was choppy, almost coming out as wheezes, your throat burning. Your pussy fluttered, your walls clamping and unclamping as if they didn’t know what to do next. You blinked back more tears, throwing your head back in both exhaustion and pent-up anger.

You were officially sexually frustrated that you’d give anything to cum. It was all so overwhelming and torturous. You heard a dull vibration from somewhere in the room, your body so hooked on the buzzing of the vibrator that it twitched.

You shook your head, sliding from the bed. It was your phone. Your heart ticked up when you saw that the message was from Joel.

Joel: Having fun?

You audibly growled at the phone. He was taunting you when you were all out of patience. The fucking bastard.

You: Actually, no.

Joel: Bet you’d have a change of heart if I made you cum.

Your walls clenched around nothing when you read and re-read his words, making sure you weren’t hallucinating.

You: Was that... you?

He took longer to respond this time, which made your hand clench at your side, nerves working in tandem with your displaced energy. You waited for his answer, realizing that you were playing right into his hand, holding your breath for his next instruction.

A soft buzz emitted in your hand.

Joel: Thought we could have some fun today.

You groaned, cursing softly. Fun. Sure. That had been so much fun.

You: Wasn’t that much fun, baby. I didn’t get to cum.

Joel: If you’re a good girl today, maybe I’ll let you.

Maybe I’ll let you. The fucking balls on this man. He knew exactly what he was doing, winding you up so that you’d have no choice but to agree to him. You felt like he knew every decision you were going to make and yet, you had never been so turned on in your life.

You: Fine. What do I have to do?

Joel: Behave. Don’t touch yourself and don’t cum until I get back home. You’ll be rewarded if you manage to hold out.

You rolled your eyes. It was sick. It was sick and oh, so hot. You bit down on your lip, wincing from the pressure.

You: You have a deal.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your thighs had been aching all day, shaking until the muscles spasmed on their own. You debated conceding, telling Joel that you were at the end of your rope, and that he would just have to let you make it up to him.

Your resolve had slipped further out of reach as the day progressed, the excruciating spike of the harsh vibrations drilling into you, forcing you to grip whatever surface was closest to you, until the blinding pleasure subsided. Your mind was creeping to the edge of madness, your determination waning. Until it was non-existent.

Your chest was heaving, toes cramping, chest burning as you came back down from your orgasm, your engorged and swollen clit chafing as you slid off of the bed.

Your fingers were covered in your own juices, as you walked into the bathroom to wash your hands. You’d broken your promise, crumpled for a moment of gratifying pleasure. And you felt like a failure.

But you hadn’t been able to dwell on it for long before you heard the front door unlock, your back stiffening as you heard it close gently. Your breathing became shallow, knowing you were in for it, and that you hadn’t been able to last. Joel would unearth the truth from you and punish you accordingly.

A cord of both anxiety and excitement settled between your legs. You heard the dull thump of him kicking off his boots, your spine tingling with anticipation as you tracked each step he took.

Joel entered the bedroom, finding your eyes immediately. He leaned against the doorframe, eyes roaming you hungrily. His smile was tired, but those never-ending orbs gleamed back at you with the promise of something sinful.

They squinted, boring into you suspiciously. You fiddled with your hands, trying not to make it obvious that you had disobeyed him, cumming just moments ago when he had told you not to.

Joel closed the distance, peeling off his flannel, and throwing it onto the chair in the corner of the bedroom. Your gaze focused on his chest, his broad shoulders, watching the subtle way that his chest rose and fell softly. He didn’t seem the least bit on edge, unlike you. His hands found your hips, gripping them tightly.

He inhaled deeply, a wicked and knowing smirk plastered on his lips.

"'D'you come, baby? Hm?", he asked, gruffly. "Did you disobey me and get yourself off?".

"No", you answered, shaking your head. But it came out meekly, unsure.

Joel slid one of his hands up your waist, crawling up your stomach and past your chest, to grip your throat, resting at the base of it. Out of habit, you swallowed, Joel’s eyes flicking to your throat.

His eyes seemed almost black, endless with lust as they honed in on you. On every tick and hum of your body.

His hand tightened around your throat, not yet constricting your airflow, but playing with the fact that he could if he so chose.

A surge of liquid fire tore through your lower belly, making a home deep within you.

"I think you did, sweetness", he hummed, licking his bottom lip, his nostrils flaring, "I can smell it on you".

You fisted his shirt, unsure if you were trying to stop him from what he was going to do next, or steady yourself as you rode the impending wave. His grip tightened on your throat, and the other hand pulled your body flush with his.

Your pulse strummed, feeling him harden through his jeans. You felt his growing bulge push into your stomach. You were only wearing an oversized shirt yourself, your lower half completely bare and exposed, ready for whatever Joel was about to do to you.

His face lowered and he dragged his scruff along your jawline harshly, his full lips ghosting over your already inflamed skin. You whined from the contact, practically keening at how touch-starved you felt.

Joel had complete control over your emotions and your body. He had two modes; rough and tender. And you knew exactly which one you were in for tonight.

“Don’t lie to me now”, he started, his one hand tangling in your hair, yanking to the point of pain. “Just gonna make it worse for yourself”.

You let out a broken moan, bucking your hips into his bulge, trying to distract him long enough to forget that you’d come without his permission.

But it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. He only tightened the hand that was around your throat, all but crushing your windpipe, causing your pussy to weep at how much you wanted him to fuck you.

“Y-yes”, you admitted, choking on the words. You swallowed against the grip on your throat.

Joel clicked his teeth, shaking his head. You could tell that he was disappointed in you, it was written all over his face.

He looked down at you through heavy lids, his pupils the size of saucers, the intensity making you shiver.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?”.

You ground your hips into his groin, eliciting a clipped groan from him.

“Fuck me, Joel", there was an edge to your voice, as you rubbed your thighs together to ease the pulsating, “Please, baby. I’m so wet for you”.

Joel grunted, features neutral as he glared at you. “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good. Have ya, sweetness?”.

Your body trembled at his harsh tone, hearing the intensity in his voice, how strained it was.

He continued, “Gonna have to punish you”. You nodded, both ready and willing to accept whatever punishment he dealt. “Get on your knees”.

You didn’t hesitate, Joel’s grasp releasing you as he stepped back, giving you room as you lowered yourself. When you were situated, you looked up at him, watching as he undid his belt.

His movements were fluid, smooth, and confident as he dropped the belt to the ground with a dull clang. Buttons were undone, his zipper taunting he pulled it down slowly. Next came his jeans and boxers, shuffling them down his legs, letting them pool at his ankles.

Joel’s cock sprang free from its constraints, finally. It slapped against his stomach, pre-cum already dribbling out from the tip, making the head glistening in the low light of the room.

You wet your lips, preparing for the breach into your mouth. He reached out, taking hold of your chin, looking down at you with admiration.

"Don't say I didn't warn 'ya", Joel muttered as he released your chin, taking hold of his cock and fisting it.

You watched him stroke himself rhythmically, taking his time with it, a low grunt leaving him when he stopped, eyes on you.

"A little help, darlin'?", Joel asked, his voice stuttering in time with his breathing. And you immediately what he was asking of you.

You let the saliva in your mouth pool in your cheeks, standing on your knees and letting a glob of spit drop from your mouth, dripping onto his shaft. He smirked at you, a pleased hum rumbling from his throat as he used the lubricant that you provided to continue stroking himself.

Loud grunting tumbled out of him, beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face. Joel was practically in a cloud of lust as he gripped the back of your neck, pushing your face closer to his lower half.

You opened your mouth, your head in a tizzy as you inhaled his musk; a mix of salty sweat and his natural aroma invading your senses.

With your mouth open wide he forced his member into your mouth roughly, not giving you a minute to adjust or breathe. His tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to momentarily sputter around him. But he wasn’t deterred, if anything, it only spurred him on more, witnessing you choke down his huge cock.

He demanded more, always more from you. You inhaled deeply through your nose as he continued to stuff his girth further down your throat.

You unhinged your jaw as wide as you could, opening your throat to take more of him. You hollowed out your cheeks as Joel’s hand snaked back around to fist your hair, guiding your head as he began thrusting his hips savagely.

Your eyes watered from the intensity of his pace, trying to remember to breathe. Your head bobbed up and down his length, interchangeably suckling at the tip.

"Mmm, you like sucking my cock, hm?”, Joel asked, his voice raspy, “Like choking on it like a good little slut”.

You hummed around him, satisfied that he was enjoying himself. You used your tongue to bring him even more pleasure, licking a wide strip along the underside of it. Joel bucked his hips faster, yanking your head back and burying himself down your throat, to the hilt.

You gagged, your eyes dispelling the build-up of tears, your lungs burning from the lack of air.

You could feel your whole body start to simmer, your inhibitions and fleeting anger at Joel withholding your orgasm from you, gone. Now you were only focused on one thing; making him cum. There was an influx of pressure coursing through you.

You wanted more, actually, you needed it. You reached in between your legs, barely touching your clit, the sensation driving you insane, and moaning onto Joel’s cock. His eyes snapped to you, noticing that you were touching yourself.

"D'you think you deserve to come, sweetness? Hm?", he mocked, watching as your brows furrowed and you massaged your clit harder, "'Cause I don't think so".

Joel grabbed your arm forcefully, keeping up his unruly tempo on your throat, his balls slapping hard against your chin.

You whined around his cock, feeling the swell of your orgasm just on the outskirts.

"You've been disobedient, darlin', and we need to correct that", he continued, making you gag on his length, chuckling darkly.

His jaw was slack, his head falling back as he grunted, feeling your throat acclimate to his size. Accepting that you weren't going to get off anytime soon, you concentrated all of your efforts on him.

You decided to turn the tables on him, sitting back on your heels and puckering your lips, sliding them up and down his shaft. He groaned above you, his other hand joined the one in your hair, holding on for dear life.

You could feel him twitch in your mouth, signalling that he was close. You picked up your pace, sucking the tip and massaging his balls to bring him to the edge.

Joel removed you from his length with a pop, saliva dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin, you were positively intoxicated from his cock, under its spell.

Confusion was written all over your face as he pulled back. He fisted his cock, fast strokes faltering as his whole body began to shake.

"'M gonna cum, sweetness. Where do you want it?", he sighed, gasping for air as his eyes closed. You gaped at him closely, turned on by watching him lose control.

"Want you to cum on my face", you said, low.

"Fuck, you can't just say that to me".

Joel pumped his cock harder and it didn't take much before he was unloading his spend onto your face, painting you with his seed. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of him on your skin.

His groans were deep and throaty as he milked himself of every drop.

You felt a dollop of his cum run down your cheek, cresting the edge of your mouth. You opened your eyes to see him use his cock to wipe it up, shuffling it into your mouth.

You purred, licking up each drop like the obedient little slut that you were. When your face was clean, you stood up, leading Joel to the bed and straddling his lap.

"Did I do good?", you asked, blinking up at him sweetly.

He nodded, "You did so well, sweetness. Now lemme make sure you feel good too".

588 notes · View notes

shadowlali · 5 months

Note

lali i luvvvv your writing for graves <3

if you have time, could you write something for graves again ? yk the scene from mw3 when he’s in a suit… lookin all fineeee… yeah, i think you know where i’m going with this lol

lots of luv <3

his perfect assistant

COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader

wc: ~ 1.2k [18+] masterlist

[photos found on pinterest, all credit to original owners of the photos above]

warnings: NSFW, slight MW3 spoilers, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, pet names (babydoll, baby, naughty girl), slightly possessive graves (if you squint), references to oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, creampie a/n: hi fern! you are so sweet, ily! 🤍🥹. thank you for this request! this is written all in Graves' POV. i hope you enjoy!

A nationally televised court hearing in front of congress would make any person nervous.

Instead, Phillip is ecstatic. You’ve practically melted into the leather couch with the force of his fucking. One hand holds your thigh while the other pinches and squeezes your swollen nipples. Whines and kitten-like mewls fall from your open mouth, pretty sounds he loves so much.

He walked into his office after the hearing to find you slightly bent over his desk, fixing his things and organizing the many reports that littered the surface. The black dress you wore, bordering on inappropriate for an office environment, stretched deliciously over the curve of your ass.

Like the perfect assistant you are, you immediately dropped to your knees and offered your warm mouth to him. He pushed his heavy dick down your throat, then had you sit on his desk amongst the papers while he devoured your pussy. The hearing was almost forgotten in his mind, Phillip not too bothered by the proceedings anyway.

He can hear passing footsteps and chatter outside his office door, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching a hand down to rub your clit with his thumb. You choke back a moan, slapping both hands over your mouth to muffle the noise.

“Shhh, babydoll,” Phillip whispers,” don’t want us gettin’ caught, right?”

“ ‘m s–sorry, Commander,” your voice comes out in a broken whimper.

He thrusts in a little harder than he should, his brain going fuzzy at you calling him Commander. The sound of your voice and the way you address him even when your legs are spread makes him crazy. Your warm pussy grips him tighter and your hips lift to meet his thrusts. Phillip watches your eyes dilate to almost black, eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.

“Doin’ so good for me baby,” he croons,” takin’ your Commander’s cock so well.”

His navy blue dress pants have a growing wet stain from the drool of your pussy. It’s going to be difficult for him to exit the office without anyone noticing the state of his clothes, if they haven’t already noticed what’s going on from the noises you’re making. Phillip slows down his thrusts, groaning once he sees the white ring formed around his cock from the slick of your cunt.

You were so nervous for him earlier today, helping him fix his red tie and press the wrinkles out of his white dress shirt before his hearing. You tried not to show it, always good at hiding your emotions. But he could see the anxious flicker in your eyes and the shaky smile you gave him.

He made you wait for him at base, not wanting to expose you to the ferocity of politics. Phillip knew you could handle it, you’re always so cool-headed and prepared. But he likes keeping you to himself, in his office and at his company.

Phillip reaches up to move your hands from your mouth, pushing his thumb onto your tongue. You immediately respond, sucking his digit as if it was his cock. Each pull of your mouth sends shocks of heat down to his heavy balls. He can feel his orgasm creeping up his spine.

You’re completely naked, warm and soft skin on display. Beads of sweat gather on your hairline and tears prick the corner of your eyes. You move a hand to grip his tie and tug to get his attention. He immediately drops his head, moving his thumb out of your mouth to land a kiss to your lips.

You suck his tongue into your mouth and he begins thrusting it in at the same rhythm of his cock. You twist your hips and moan loudly into his mouth when he manages to plunge deep into your cunt, bumping right at your cervix. He gives you one more rough kiss then leans back.

“I know babydoll, I know… feels so good, doesn’t it?” Phillip murmurs, angling his hips to keep hitting that spot.

“Yes, y–yes, yes, sir. Fe–feels so good.”

He plants one hand above your head and the other on your side, gaining momentum in his thrusts. Your tits bounce and jiggle in his face, leaving him salivating. He leans down to catch a nipple into his mouth and sucks the peaked tip. Your tight little cunt pulses and flutters around him, more wetness dripping out of you.

Phillip feels your fingers pull and tug at his hair once he switches to your other bouncing tit. His pants are most likely done for… I’ll buy new ones, he thinks. He releases your tit with a wet pop from his mouth.

“You’re makin’ such a mess, naughty girl… all over my new couch,” he murmurs.

“ ‘m sorry,” you whine,”… you just–just fuck me so go–good, commander.”

Your words almost take him over the edge, but he needs you there first. He wishes he could stay here forever, locked in the warm embrace of your slick cunt. But his balls twitch at the need to finish deep inside of you.

“I’m gonna go faster,” Phillip says through gritted teeth,” I need you to come f’me, okay baby?”

You nod quickly, twisting your hips in small circles as his thumb reaches to repeatedly swipe over your clit. Your hands reach to grip his waist and you stare up at him with pretty eyes. You look completely cock-drunk and perfect to him.

“Come ins–inside me, please. I want your come, s–sir.”

“Fu-fuck,” he stutters,”I’ll give you my come, babydoll.”

Phillip pistons inside of you faster, almost bending you in half. He sees and feels the moment a harsh orgasm rips through you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth forms a perfect little o-shape. No words fall from your lips but your body stiffens and you gush around him, slapping his hand away from your overstimulated button.

His balls twitch and he releases long spurts of thick come into your fluttering cunt. He keeps going, plunging and plunging and plunging inside. Phillip’s head falls forward as he lets the force of his orgasm take over his body.

He can barely hear the squeaks and whimpers that leave you, too focused on the blood rushing to his ears and the white hot electricity that invades his body. His thrusts become sloppy and his body eventually gives out. A tiny dribble of come leaks out of your swollen cunt and lands on the already wet couch.

Your body continues to shake with the aftershocks and you hold onto Phillip, your arms wrapped around him and your tits pressed against his sweaty face. You stay locked like that for who knows how long, almost falling asleep from the exhaustion, until someone knocks on the door.

“Commander? You in there?” a soldier asks.

Phillip lifts his head and presses a kiss to your sweaty chest before responding. “Not now, I’m busy.”

Phillip leans back up, smiling as you giggle underneath him.

“Naughty girl, don’t laugh. We almost got caught ‘cuz of you.”

#phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod mw2 x female reader #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali

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nuclearspaghetti · 1 year

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Portrait I drew tonight of Cinderella from d20 Neverafter looking badass af in her glass armor

[ID: digitally painted color portrait of Cinderella looking at the viewer with a noble/bold expression. She is surrounded by a golden border, backed with storybook pages, and her name is written in big cursive letters above her head.]

(credit to @AFantastique on pinterest for the reference image and the grimm brothers version of Cinderella for the story pasted behind her. )

#fanart #neverafter #lgbtq #glass briars #dimension 20 #d20 #dungeons and dragons #cinderella #neverafter cinderella #neverafter rosamund #neverafter pinnochio #neverafter mother goose #neverafter gerard #neverafter ylfa

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starhwart · 11 months

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pick a pile: future spouse's version

#001: 7 traits about your future spouse

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬? 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞/𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 (𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝)

cards: left 1, right 2, bottom 3.

pile 1

welcome to your reading pile 1!! this is your aesthetic:

to begin with, i feel a very natural and green energy. could any of you have an earth sign in the big three? mostly taurus... i feel that a great way to improve your life and that will have an important factor for you is to connect to nature!

they are very calm, i feel that if you two had a fight they would be the mediators.

for most of you (75%) i feel they are well protected by the universe, very clean energy

they have a lot of friends, a lot of crushes, but they wait for the right person

they seem to like dogs a lot, especially border collie.

a height between 1.80cm-1.85cm

maybe they have sisters, they grew up in an environment with a lot of feminine energy

i feel a air sign energy from them (aquarius, libra and gemini)

pile 2

welcome to your reading pile 2!! this is your aesthetic:

for you pile 2, i felt an energy of great loyalty, you would be the ones to make "pinky promises" and tell each other everything, without fear of judgments. you two would travel anywhere to make memories and record as much as possible to remember it years later.

they seem to be older than you (age gap 5-10 years)

brown color is significant, they look pretty traditional as well.

they love babies, it seems their dream is to be parents

seem to work with justice, law

they trust you a lot, but once broken they can become cold

they seem to like jazz as a musical style, something more traditional

kinda low profile lol

(extra: for some of you i got green eyes)

pile 3

welcome to your reading pile 3!! this is your aesthetic:

and finally, pile 3, for you i got a calmer energy, very calm in fact, they always seem to be in touch with music and i have the impression that maybe they even work in the arts field.

introvert

they know how to cook, they like wine a lot

they are mystics, they don't seem to have a religion but they can feel the energies.

they love cats, many cats

they are quite intelligent, they pay a lot of attention.

they can have tattoos on the arm

long black hair (mullet style)

hope you guys enjoyed!! this is actually my first pac so if you can reblog and like i would be reaaaalllyyy glad <3

sending love 🤍

(all images are from pinterest, not mine)

#pac reading #pick a card #future spouse reading #pick a card reading #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #free love reading #pac tarot

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elaratyrell · 7 months

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Misery {Annie Wilkes! Aemond Targaryen x Author! Reader}

*All images found on Pinterest*

Warnings: Dark! Aemond, stalking, language, mentions of murder Smut- oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), female orgasm

*Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: You find yourself near death after being the victim of a car accident in a snow storm while working on the latest instalment in your bestselling Misery series. The man who found you, your self declared number one fan, seems innocent enough, but his dark past, and even darker intentions, soon become clear

With a sigh of slight relief, you placed the final page on top of the pile beside you, tying a rubber band around it and placing it in a blue leather case.

Another book finished to hopefully join the others on the bestsellers list.

You had written twelve other books, to be exact, and had now finished your first completed draft for the thirteenth.

The cursed number.

The unlucky number.

The number of misfortune.

But for you it was a blessing.

For years you had dedicated your life to the running series of books centred around a character called Misery. You'd published your first book at eighteen, becoming the new face of the romance genre. And as you had grown up, your books had matured as well, becoming darker, bordering on the thriller genre as well as still centering on the romantic aspect. It was a bold move, but seemed to pay off, as it had made you even more popular than before.

Yet, after dedicating your life to one character for an entire decade now, you knew you had to move on, take another path in a new series you were going to write. You knew some of your fans would be disappointed that this would be the last entry in the Misery series, but it had to be done.

It felt like a relief to you, that you could finally move on with your life. And you felt as though it were almost a weight being lifted off your shoulders as finished your usual celebration of a single cigarette and champagne. You rose to your feet to take the manuscript to your car with the rest of your belongings, departing from a small log cabin called Winterfell Lodge you always rented out when working on your latest novel. It was always calming to get some time away from the chaos of the city.

You pulled your coat around you tighter, the snow flurry thickening around you as you loaded your bags into the trunk of your car. Usually, you wouldn't drive in weather like this, especially as it seemed as though a snow storm was fast approaching, but you needed to get back to the city as fast as possible.

Quickly shooting your agent a message to let you know you had finished the initial draft and were on your way to get back to the city, you started the car and drove away from Winterfell Lodge.

You squinted slightly as the snowfall grew thicker still, trying to see the curve in the road as the wipers speed couldn't keep up with the snow that was now covering the road. You slowed your speed, maintaining control of your car, humming along to the song playing on the radio.

Maybe you should have waited for tomorrow.

It was already late in the afternoon, and the clouds darkened the sky.

You turned on your car's headlights, a small sign reading 'Curved road, next thirteen miles'.

You hit the curve no problem, turning the wheel with perfect control, keeping a steady speed as you continued turning the wheel, but suddenly one of the wheels skidded, followed by another as the car span erratically out of control.

And all you remembered was the car spinning of the road, followed by it slamming into a tree, doing a one hundred and eighty degree flip, landing on it's hood.

And then as you fell into the darkness, you heard the harsh sound of the radio static and the howling winds, and felt the blood trickling down the side of your face.

Followed by nothing. Only darkness.

When you awoke, you felt numb.

You skin was paler, and clammy with a feverish sweat that sent a slight tremble through you. You couldn't lift any of your limbs. They felt weighted down. You didn't even want to try and lift your head.

"You're awake."

The voice was male. It sounded calm, well spoken. Soothing, almost.

Approaching footsteps to your bedside soon brought the owner of the voice into your vision.

He looked around your age, maybe two or three years younger, around twenty five or six, perhaps. He had long silver hair tied half up, a strong jaw and a tall, well defined figure. One of his eyes was a vivid blue, like a sapphire, the other a cloudy white, a long scar running from his brow down to his cheek. Resting on the bridge of his nose was a pair of black rimmed glasses. He was dressed in a dark blue sweater, the white collar of his shirt peaking up above its neckline, and a pair of black trousers.

Your saviour was very handsome, indeed.

"W-where... where a-am-"

"Shush," He interrupted you, placing the back of his cool hand against your forehead, frowning slightly at the heat radiating on your skin from the fever. "We're just between Storm's End and Winterfell. You've been here two days. I was concerned that you were not going to pull through. I'm thankful to say that I think you will recover. You'll be okay. Thank the gods you'll be okay." He shot you a slightly relieved smile. "Oh, how foolish of me. My name is Aemond Targaryen, and I'm your-"

"Number one fan?" You murmured, your eyes fluttering closed from a split second before opening again to see him shooting you a rather bashful smile, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"That- that's right," He murmured. "I-I am also a doctor, fortunately enough." He added, gesturing to where you were connected to a drip before outstretching his hand and opening his palm to reveal two pills. "You need to take these for the pain," He said softly, lifting your head slightly to bring the pills to your lips and swallow them, his fingertips lingering slightly against your lips.

Aemond propped up the pillows slightly, resting your head back down. Giving you a better view of your room, you noted you appeared to be in a rather old cottage or farmhouse. Your room was rather charming; wood panelled walls, a large fireplace opposite the bed. From the window, you saw a view of the mountains.

"Shouldn't I be in hospital?" You mumbled.

"The blizzard was too strong. I didn't want to risk trying to get you there. I couldn't even call, the phone lines are down and I don't own a mobile, I'm afraid. I doubt you could even get signal out here with the weather like this."

"Thank you for saving me," You murmured, you eyes aching with fatigue.

"You are more than welcome. Now, you should get some rest. You nearly lost your life." He replied, stepping back. "I'll be back to check on your when your meds run out," Was the last thing he said before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Your fever past after a few days in Aemond's care, but you were still incredibly weak. But Aemond promised you that things would get better.

"It's not going to hurt forever, I promise you."

"Will I be able to walk?" You asked.

"Of course. And your arm will be fine, too. Your shoulder was rather badly dislocated, but I managed to pop it back in there. But I must say, I am rather proud of what I managed to do with your legs, especially considering what I had around the house. In fact I don't think there's a doctor in the whole of Westeros that could do a better job."

And with a flourish of blankets, he made your legs visible to you for the first time.

From the knees down, you believed you resembled a mummy. Steel rods that seemed to be remains of aluminium crutches were used as splints with taping circled around them. From the knees up, your thighs were swollen and horribly bruised.

Upon seeing your slightly horrified expression, Aemond hastily added. "It is not nearly as bad as it looks considering the severity of your injuries. You have a compound fracture of the tibia in both legs, and the fibula in the left leg is fractured too. I could hear the bones moving, so it's best for your legs to remain immobile. And as soon as the roads open, I'll take you to a hospital. In the meantime, you've got a lot of recovering to do, and I consider it an honour that you'll do it in my home." He gave you a kind smile, once again leaving you to get some more rest until he had to administer your next round of painkillers.

And soon enough Aemond's visits to your room became more frequent and for longer periods of time. He didn't just stay to gave you your meds, but also to reassure you that the sweeling to your cheek would go down, and how you were still beautiful, and how much he adored your books.

"It was quite a miracle that you found me," You said one evening after Aemond had fed you your dinner. He let out a small, slightly nervous chuckle in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Actually, it wasn't a miracle at all. I... as I... in a way... I was following you."

"Fo-following me?" You stammered out.

"Well it isn't exactly a secret that you were staying at Winterfell Lodge, you know, considering that I am your number one fan, but some nights I found myself driving there, sitting outside and just looking at the light in your cabin, knowing you were most likely creating another Misery masterpiece. I'd try to imagine what the world's greatest writer was creating." He replied, his voice light and airy, as though it was the most simple explanation.

"Can you say that last part again? I didn't quite hear..." You murmured, trying to brush off the fact he practically stalked you. Aemond just shot you a small smile in response.

"The world's greatest writer." He repeated before continuing. "Anyway, the other afternoon, when I was on my way home, there you were leaving the lodge. I must say I was curious as to why an intelligent woman such as yourself would go for a drive with a storm such as that approaching."

"I... didn't know there was going to be a storm like that..."

"Well, luckily I did," He replied. "And, it was lucky for me too. Because you're alive, and now you can write more incredible books. I've read absolutely everything you've written. I enjoyed your three standalone novels at the start of your career immensely, but the Misery series... I must say that they are my absolute favourite. I-I know them all by heart, all twelve of them. I love them, they helped me through my darkest times... through any obstacle I've faced in my life, I've managed to find solace with Misery.

You couldn't helped but feel touched by the way he spoke so fondly of your work, how he constantly sang your praises whenever he got the chance. The man was socially awkward it seemed, and perhaps rather shy at times, but he was still surprisingly charming.

"You're too kind..."

"And you're too brilliant," He replied. "You must be to create such a wonderful character like Misery." As he spoke, he traced a finger down your cheek. The swelling was gone, and the bruise was fading. He cleared his throat, hastily pulling his hand away and rising to your feet. "I'll um... just wash these dishes up." He said, seeming rather embarrassed all of a sudden. "I'm sure the road will be open soon, which means the phone lines will be back up in no time. But until they are, I'll kept trying so you can phone your agent."

He stopped when he reached the doorway, turning away from you, his hand hovering over the door knob.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Oh goodness no. I-I was just wondering if I could ask you a favour."

"I'm sure it's the least I could do after you've shown me such kindness." You replied, mustering a small smile that made his expression brighten.

"It's just that I noticed in your case there was a new manuscript..." He trailed off, hesitating slightly.

"You want to read it?"

"If it's not too much trouble. I do not mean to intrude."

"I usually only let three people read my new work this early," You replied, making his smile drop slightly. "And that's my editor, my agent... and the person who was kind enough to save me from dying in a car wreck."

"I... thank you," Aemond smiled. "You have no clue as to the gift you've given me and the gratitude I feel to you."

You shot him a smile, but that soon changed into a grimace as you winced from the pain.

Aemond glanced at his watch, hastily placing your empty plate on the bedside table before reaching into his pocket for the painkillers.

"It's like clockwork, the way your pain returns," He murmured, pressing a glass of water to your lips to help you swallow the pills. "The pain will subside soon. It will be okay," He sighed, placing his hand over yours as your expression twisted in discomfort.

"What's the title of your newly finished book?" He asked, trying to take your mind away from the pain.

"I'm not sure yet," You murmured. "I usually come up with the title after the final draft is finished. Perhaps after you read it, you'll have an idea or two."

Aemond's expression brightened again. "I will do my best not to let you down."

Days past, and soon enough Aemond could move you from the bed to a wheelchair. Your arm was healing nicely, as were your legs, despite there still being some time until the latter were properly healed. Aemond never failed to update your over his progress of the manuscript.

"I read chapter one, it was one of your best introductions to a Misery novel I have ever read..."

"Page twenty, I've reached. It's incredible how you can engage with the reader so quickly in the novel..."

"Page thirty, I had to force myself to put it down..."

It wasn't until one day when he came in with your lunch that something seemed a little... off, about Aemond.

"I know I'm only forty pages into the book..." He began in his usual tone. "But... oh I cannot criticise someone like you-"

"It's fine," You replied. "I can take it. Believe me, if I can deal with the critics, I'm sure I can handle whatever my number one fan has to say."

Aemond softly exhaled, keeping his gaze fixed on where he was cutting up your lunch. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"It is brilliantly written," Aemond admitted. "Although everything you write is brilliant. But... the swearing..."

You raised an eyebrow.

"The... swearing...?"

"Yes, the swearing. There, I said it!"

"It bothers you?"

"It is inappropriate. It has no nobility," He protested, sawing through the food on your plate.

"It is appropriate for the setting and background of the character speaking-"

Aemond stilled, his hands stopping from cutting your food for you. His head lifted to meet your gaze, his expression uncharacteristically cold.

"No. It isn't," He replied firmly, resuming to cutting your food, his gaze still focused on you. "What do you think people say when they go into the grocery shop in town. Give me a carton of those effing eggs and five slices of that bitchly roast chicken?"

You couldn't help but smile at his refrain from using the profanities, but it faltered as the cutting becoming more and more erratic.

"...And in the bank, do I tell Mr Lannister, here's one big bastard of a cheque, give me some of your darn money?"

You let out a nervous chuckle at his rants, but soon enough your ears were greeted by the grating sound of metal against china. He looked down, slamming the plate down on bedside table.

"There! See? Now see what you have made me do! These were my mother's plates! What she left me when she passed! And now, it's all scratched!"

His chest heaved as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. When they reopened, his good eye was full of shame and embarrassment.

"Oh... I'm so sorry... sometimes I can get so worked up I... oh, can you ever forgive me? Here..." He pressed your pills to your lips before picking up the plate, shooting you a rather overly sweet smile.

"I hope you can forgive me. Oh, Y/N... how I adore you. I mean... your mind. Your creativity... that is all I meant."

Several days passed, and Aemond's previous disposition had returned. He didn't lecture you over the choice of language used in the book, but still seemed disapproving nonetheless. He still cooked and fed you your meals, brushed your teeth, gave you your pills, praised you every waking moment he was with you. The phones were still apparently out, but he had assured you it was only a matter of time before they were up and running again. He had even managed to convince you to autograph his limited edition copy of your first Misery novel, promising to cherish it for the rest of his days.

He still gave you regular updates on reading your manuscript. At page 185, he expressed his sadness at being over halfway through. At page 300, he branded it better than perfect, that it was divine. He said it was more beautiful than any tapestry adorning the Red Keep. He had then introduced you to his pet snake, Vhagar, and his cat called... Misery.

And you had found out more about him.

How he had graduated top of his class from medical school, and how his peers and his family were constantly consumed with jealousy from his success. How they would attempt to belittle and mock him for his eye, and how in his lowest moment, his fiancée, Alys, had left him, but you had saved him with releasing your newest Misery novel some weeks later.

He had told you about the neglect from his father, his older brother's alcoholism and his mother's untimely death. He stiffened when he mentioned his eye, but you quickly changed the conversation and didn't bring it up again, not wanting to upset him by bringing up possible past trauma. And you had listened to him, consoled him over the misfortunes of his past, and he had expressed his gratitude in return.

And then he had left you to rest while he returned to finish the manuscript, which he had entitled Misery's Child.

The slam of your bedroom door awoke you from your doze, your eyes fluttering open to reveal Aemond staring down at you, his face ashen and jaw clenched.

He must have finished the book, it seemed.

"You... she cannot be dead," He murmured. "Misery cannot be dead!" He then exclaimed, voice rising. "How... how could you do this to me?"

"Women in that age... it was tragically common for them to die in childbirth, Aemond. I'm sure you know that. But you know, she will still be alive in... in spirit..."

"I do not want her spirit! I WANT HER! AND YOU MURDERED HER!" He yelled.

"I... I didn't kill her..."

"THEN WHO DID?"

"Nobody she... she passed away and..."

"She passed awa- she passed away?! No, Y/N, you did it. You killed her. You murdered my Misery."

He picked up the chair by your beside where he usually sat with you with ease despite it's weight, rising it in the air as if to strike it down on you before turning and throwing it against the wall. It shattered immediately upon impact, breaking into pieces on the floor.

"I... I thought you were good," He murmured, tone suddenly soft. "But you're not good. You're just a dirty, untrustworthy woman. I don't... I don't think I should be near you for a while..."

He walked to the door, and stopped to turn back to you.

"And don't even think about anybody coming for you. Not the doctors, your agent, your editor... I won't call them. I haven't called them and I never will. Nobody knows you're even here. And you better hope nothing ever happens to me... because if it does... you'll die."

After the click in the lock of your door, followed by the slamming of the front door and the revving of Aemond's car as it pulls away from the house, you let out the breath you didn't know you had been holding.

You were slightly shaken from Aemond's outburst, but tried to focus on what needed to be done, shifting to the other side of your bed and reaching out with your arm. It had come out of it's sling several days ago, and was now bandaged in a cast. You managed to grasp ahold of the armrest and pull it towards the best, shifting your body closer to the edge of the bed. Your legs screamed in agony as you manoeuvred yourself onto the wheelchair, but you persisted nonetheless, managing to sit down in the chair and wheel yourself towards the door. Reaching into your hair, you pulled out a hairpin Aemond had leant you, pushing it into the keyhole and soon enough hearing a click. Turning the knob, you pulled open the door and wheeled yourself out of the room, looking down the flight of stairs that blocked your way.

Letting out a deep sigh, you gripped the banister with one hand as you slowly steered yourself to the edge of the staircase.

"What have I got to lose?" You murmured, before wheeling the chair down the stairs.

The chair turned on its side as it crashed down the last step, but you managed to hoist yourself up again. You immediately tried grabbing a phone, but it turned out to be fake. You then discovered the windows bolted shut and both of the front and back doors having a second lock at the top, which you couldn't reach due to not being strong enough to stand just yet.

You wheeled yourself back into the living room, looking at the photographs placed on the drawers against the wall. There was Aemond as a young boy standing with his siblings and mother, his eye unharmed. Another showed him graduating medical school, a proud smile on his face. The third was him with his mother. And the fourth... was you.

He truly wasn't lying when he said he was your biggest fan.

Between the two photographs was a crystal dragon ornament, and beneath that was an emerald scrap book. You lifted the ornament carefully and grabbed the book, opened it.

The beginning seemed fairly normal. More photographs of his childhood and teen years. The was a photograph of him at what seemed to be a formal event with a women you only assumed was Alys. She was dressed in dark green, matching Aemond's tie, and you were sure she was very pretty, but you couldn't see her face due to the black ink scribbled over it, almost cutting through the photo. The next page was work related. More photographs and newspaper clippings of his medical success.

But turning the page was a different story entirely.

The first page contained a page of the newspaper, what seemed to be it's headline emblazoned in large capital letters.

'Doctor Aemond Targaryen arrested for the murder of nephew Lucerys Velaryon'

'Doctor Aemond Targaryen was arrested this morning, accused of the murder of his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon. Targaryen, 20, pleaded not guilty to the death of Velaryon, 16, under the accusation he had simply acted in self defence after his nephew attacked him with a knife and caused the disfigurement of his left eye'

And it only got worse as you read the following pages.

'Targaryen trial postponed until December 10.'

Accompanying the headlines were photographs of him standing in front of the courthouse with his lawyer, Larys Strong, a stony expression on his face.

'Targaryen declared innocent by jury, claims he was a victim of a malicious attack.'

'Shamed doctor Aemond Targaryen resigns from King's Landing hospice.'

You slammed the book shut, a sick feeling brewing in your stomach as you hastily placed the book in it's position with the ornament on top.

Wheeling yourself to the stairs, you gripped the banister and you pulled yourself up the stairs. Your arms ached, the muscle burning and sweat beading on your forehead as you persisted, refusing to let go and crash back down to the bottom again.

In time, you reached the top of the stairs, moving the wheelchair as quickly as you could, taking the pin out and moving towards the bed, when a slam of a car door stopped you in your tracks.

Aemond was back.

You knew he would enquire about the now unlocked door, but you could just pass it off by saying you urgently needed to use the bathroom. You also knew that you didn't have enough time to haul yourself back into bed, and so you did what you could, and threw yourself out of the chair and onto the floor, pushing the wheelchair away from you slightly as the front door opened, the rustling of paper bags being put on the table before the creaking of the stairs. There was a slight falter before he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

He knew it was unlocked.

"What happened?" He asked, voice laced with concern as he hurried over to you, lifting you into his arms and shushing your cry of pain as he placed you down in bed atop the covers. His glasses had been taken off, the brilliant blue of his good eye burning into you.

"I needed the bathroom, but I couldn't get back into bed I... I lost my balance and fell on the floor..." You lied, hoping that you managed to convince him that your story was true.

"You needed to use the bathroom?" He asked, receiving a nod from you in response.

"And you managed to get yourself on and off the toilet alright?"

Another nod.

He slowly nodded in response, and you let out a small sigh of relief, visibly relaxing at him seemingly believing your story.

"And... you managed to get down the stairs and into the living room without hurting yourself after picking your bedroom door lock?" He added, his tone still soft.

A little too soft.

"Aemond... I never..."

"And you managed to somehow drag yourself back upstairs into your room?"

"I... I don't..."

"The dragon ornament on top of my photograph album," He replied. "It was pointing the wrong way."

You opened your mouth to speak, but found yourself at a loss for words, you mouth dry and your blood running cold.

"It's okay," He murmured, running his thumb over your lower lip. "I shouldn't have scared you. I know I did. I frightened you, hm? Well for that I apologise. I will refrain from repeating that behaviour in the future." He added, leaning forward slightly. "You are so incredibly important to me, Y/N. I'm sure you know that. You saw the photograph downstairs..."

You tried to speak again but he quickly shushed you, the finger resting on your lip tracing down your jaw, your neck, across your collarbone. His pupil had dilated, his breath quickening slightly as his hand moved down to your chest, covered by one of his shirts he had given you, framing your body in a pale blue.

"You do not need to speak Y/N," He whispered, leaning closer still, one hand placed the other side of you, caging you against him. "You will only waste your energy..."

As he pressed his lips to yours, you knew you couldn't fight back. You were weaker with him even without your injuries, and with his erratic behaviour, and what you had discovered downstairs...

And so you let him deepen the kiss. You let him part your lips with his tongue. You let his hand wander down from fondling your breast to your waist, pulling the shorts you had on down to your knees.

You let him ever so gently part your legs, pressing a line of kisses along your upper thigh, and then pay the same attention to the other, his lips tracing your flesh that had been swollen with bruises the week before.

Did you even know how long you had been here?

Staring up at the same ceiling, being enclosed in those same four walls day after day had merged the days together.

And if you asked Aemond, would he tell you the truth?

You couldn't trust him, but you needed to stay alive. And if you had any hope of getting out of here alive, you needed to stay on his good side.

And so there you were, legs spread as Aemond lowered himself between them, his moans vibrating against you at your taste, his tongue circling your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you that was both pain and pleasure as your legs twitched slightly, a hand tangling in his silver locks.

You resented the way your legs squeezed around his head as he thrust two fingers into you, murmuring against you about how wet with want you were for him. Your body was betraying you, but you couldn't stop the way he was making you feel such pleasure. The mere curling of his fingers against your sweet spot, or the flick of his tongue against your swollen clit caused a string of breathy moans to leave you, and soon you found yourself coming undone. He drew his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue as he eagerly lapped at your release.

He sat back, lips glinting with your release. He reached forward, fingers parting your lips so you could taste yourself on him. He let out a satisfactory groan as you sucked on his fingers, allowing them to linger on your lips as he pulled away.

Pressing his lips to yours, he pulled your underwear and shorts back up to rest on your hips.

"I would love to go further with you, but I'll have to wait until you're back to your full strength. It may take some time... but I think I can manage with having your addictive taste on my tongue until I can truly claim you as mine. You'd like that, hm?"

"I..." You let out a deep breath. This man was unhinged. He'd break your ankles with a sledgehammer before letting you leave. You knew that your best chance to survive this, was to play along. Allow Aemond to believe that you were beginning to reciprocate his affections for long enough so he could let down his walls and nurse you back to health so you could escape.

"I would like that..." You murmured, looking away to feign embarrassment.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of, my darling Y/N." Aemond replied, looking at you with such fondness, you wouldn't have believed he was a murderer. He paused for a moment. "This may not be the best time, but I have a surprise for you. In the other guest room."

"Oh... okay..."

"If you want to wait another day, as disappointing as that would be-"

"No, I can see it now," You hastily replied as to not flair that nasty temper up again. He smiled warmly in response, stepping towards you as you reached for the wheelchair, but he instead lifted you into your arms bridal style, walking you away from the chair and towards the bedroom door. Instinctively, you wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, your head resting against his shoulder.

He pushed open the door with his foot, giving you another overly sweet smile as he proudly declared "It's your new studio. I set it up last night. I just needed to get the typewriter and paper, which are downstairs."

"But... w-why..."

"You need a place to work, after all," He interrupted you, placing you down on the desk chair. "All writers need a place to work."

"B-but... what would I write?" You asked.

Aemond smirked at you, walking over to where a trashcan sat in the far corner of the room. The clang as it landed on the floor echoed around the room as he dropped it at your feet, your manuscript discarded in it.

"You want me... to burn my book?" You looked up at him in disbelief.

"I know this may be difficult to you," Aemond nodded, reaching into his back pocket and bringing out a box of matches.

"I... I can't..."

"Yes. You can," Aemond's voice was firm. "You can do this. Do it. Now."

Your hands began to tremble as he pressed the matchbox into them, pouring lighter fluid into the trashcan.

"I know this is the only copy," He continued. "You always only write one copy at first. When you were eighteen, you wrote your first book and you didn't make a single copy. Because you didn't think anybody would take it seriously. But they did. And you kept that tradition because it's a superstition to you, and you don't want to make a copy in fear of it being rejected. I'm trying to help you can't you see that?" His voice was steadily rising as his agitation grew, making the tremble in your hands worsen.

"I just want to help you. Why won't you let me help-"

As he spoke, you hastily lit one of the matches and threw it in the trashcan, the manuscript exploding into flame.

And as Aemond lovingly kissed your forehead, murmuring how proud he was of you for being so strong, all you could do was stare at the flames consuming your work, your own masterpiece.

"Now you can go back to doing what you're great at," Aemond murmured, a hand resting on your shoulder. "You can write a new novel, your greatest achievement ever... Misery's return."

He knelt down by you, a finger hooking beneath your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze. "I know you didn't mean it when you killed her. And now you can make it right. You can even write it in my honour, as a thanks for saving your life and nursing you back to health." He leaned forward so his breath was tickling your ear, his hand now resting on your thigh. "Although there are also other ways you can repay that debt to me."

"And you... you expect me to write something up just like that?" You asked.

"I expect nothing less than a masterpiece from you," He replied reassuringly, pressing another kiss to you, this time on the cheek. "I have the upmost faith in you my darling... I know you won't let me down... and if you do... we'll just have to start again. And again. And again... you won't try to escape, will you?"

"O-of course not. I... wouldn't dream of it."

Aemond hummed in approval. "I know you won't," He whispered, kissing you on the lips before standing up. "No one will come for you. If they do... I won't let them take you. If they try to take you from you, or if you do try to leave..." He said, opening a storage closet and reached inside, brandishing a sledgehammer. "There are other ways of keeping you here... with me... forever..."

Masterlist

#Aemond Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen imagine #House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon imagine #Spooktober

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whoyacallinyellow · 2 months

Note

Borrowed Time hurt me a lot omg- Now I offer you even more angst.

It's sad that Javier became the very thing in 1911 that he swore to destroy (working as a hitman for a tyrant government) but it would be even sadder if (as a part 2 ig of borrowed time) Javier and his love meet again but this time, he was there to arrest her and bring her to town to hang.

Borrowed Time II

Javier Escuella x F! reader

Spoilers: major RDR1-2 events Content: 18+, low honor Javier, angst, betrayal, loyalty, dramatic, possessive, referenced/implied sex, canon typical events & violence, possible unintentional spelling mistakes, google translated Spanish Type: I-II changed to second pov (wc - 4133) / pc: pinterest a/n: i can feel this request in my veins, so here’s my mediocre yapping! live, laugh, angst

Summary: Following the events of Beaver Hollow and your departure, Javier falls into work with Allende. After your reunion he reflects on his time with you, to only turn you in by nightfall.

It was a warm day in New Austin, the orange rays blanketing the barren dirt landscape, and not a cloud in the sky. Javier only imagined finding himself wandering these lands again, but yet he returned on what seemed to be borrowed time.

A few years had passed since he last saw you at Beaver Hollow. The man could not bear to show his face, the embarrassment of being wrong about Dutch was an ego check it say the very least.

Yet your note lived in the far corner of his mind, a small cabin just north of MacFarlane's Ranch from his understanding.

It did not take the man long to find it, local cowpokes cowered at the sight of the large Mexican outlaw sitting upon an even larger steed, interrogating them about a maiden. It was almost as if the best pieces of you resembled him, immediately reminding the folk of who it was he was searching for.

Boaz grunted against Javier’s spurs, digging deep into the loose red dirt below. The sunbeams which crept through the dry pine trees created quite the atmosphere, allowing Javier to get lost in his head, even if it were just for a few moments of bliss.

Despite the directions given to him, Javier hoped you had moved on after all these years, fled somewhere safer, started a new life, perhaps changed your name as well. Somewhere he would never find you.

Boaz continued to race down the winding path, feeding Javier’s anticipation against the warm breeze. As it gusted past the side of his head, loose strands from his tied hair tickled his ears, merely reminding the man how badly he needed a haircut.

The starving grass which bordered West Elizabeth held a yellow tinge, the land rolled and waved, flourishing with birds and wildlife. Javier reckoned he has not been to the area before, but you were not lying about how appealing it was— a perfect home for you two.

Upon whipping around the corner, abruptly revealed a small cabin with songbirds singing to him in the trees. The place was quiet, cozy, and seemingly inhabited, with small smoke stacks exhausting from the brick chimney.

Bringing Boaz to a halt, there was no sign of you— but sure enough a big black cloud skulked in the nearby pen, following you wherever you wandered like a burden.

Javier stiffly slid off Boaz, his knees nearly giving out from under him as his boots crunched onto the dirt. The beast was grazing on hay as he approached the fence post

After whistling and calling your shire a few times, Javier was promptly ignored, perhaps the slow and ominous brute heard the man call him el diablo one too many times.

He was still a strong believer the only reason the horse broke for you was out of pity— you looked like a child struggling to climb him every endeavor. Maybe the beast had a soft spot for you, just like himself.

But now the old shire was relieved from his saddle, serenading in the New Austin sun, not bothered to obey the envious man’s command.

Javier leaned against the corral post, admiring what he could have had with you, the thought of being a family man loomed over his shoulders and displayed no signs of leaving.

You and Javier ran together prior to joining Dutch, less for money and more for survival. Your past crimes covered bounty boards and train stations as a permanent reminder, never forgetting the wrongs that were written. That price only increased once Mexico inevitably caught wind of all the messy jobs in neighboring lands.

He drowned and you sank with him, the price of his sins were bricks added to your back. Being his accessory, the government saw you as a pawn, smart and knowledgeable, if caught— Javier would come for you, and they would be ready for him.

Those days were nearly from another lifetime.

Now under Allende’s ruling fist, he offered him a twisted plea deal of sorts; protection at the cost of something the man held more dearly than life itself—you. Your capture was not about the money nor status, but simply a test of his loyalty to Allende; if Javier did this job, he’d do anything.

The poor man’s convoluted loyalty never got him far, proving time and time again, leading him only to dead ends and false hopes. Charismatic attributes and big promises was something Javier foolishly gave everything to with a blind eye, something you always warned him about.

“Javier?—“

Your voice could have made him leap out of his own skin. As he hesitantly turned towards you, his gut twisted into something mean. You were beautiful as ever, after all these years you waited for him— just like you promised.

“Never thought I’d see you again, especially in the west.” You spoke again in disbelief, rag wiping your hands clean of a job he should have been doing.

Your voice only lived in his memories, hearing it again nearly whipped Javier back into shape, feeling sick for your puppy love he desperately relied on so long ago.

“Home sweet home.” The man swallowed dryly, throwing his arms out awkwardly and gesturing towards the open lands around you both.

Before his thoughts could catch up to the moment, you ran to embrace him, flinging yourself into his arms with a long awaited kiss. Javier grunted softly against your lips, staggering back to support you, the extra attention only reminding him how saddle sore he really was.

Just for a moment things felt normal, a feeling he was searching for since you split. He had a place in this cruel world once again, everywhere had a price on his head, no place to retreat to besides you— you were home.

Perhaps he could head tail between his legs back to Allende, saying you disappeared.

Maybe he could take you to Canada, or a tropical island— oh, anywhere but Guarma.

We must leave,

Javier’s unsaid words pricked beneath his skin, prodding relentlessly at his deepest desires for redemption.

“Oh—amor.”

Was all the man could choke out, the words exiting pitiful and weak, a near cry for help you assumed was just your bittersweet reunion.

Leaning away you smiled coyly at him, admiring your lost cowboy;

Your time apart was not easy on Javier, his hardened stare and the chip on his shoulder now set in stone.

The constant blazing sun of Mexico, along with surviving off rationed canned beans really took a toll on the man. His face was dull and lacking the usual pigment he wore so handsomely when Mr. Pearson cooked for everyone.

Javier’s newfound demeanor only put emphasis on his sharp brows peeking from under his bowler cap brim, residing above dark cunning eyes, ready to match any cowpuncher who dared challenge him.

Over Javier’s shoulder was where his mount rested, hoove digging into the dirt at the end of the cabin’s path.

“—and Boaz?” You began after a shared silence, slowly approaching the overworked horse.

“Still kickin’.” He uttered gently, a large hand scratching the back of his neck.

Boaz never really liked you, or anyone besides Javier that is. It wasn’t until the gang hunkered down in Colter for the stubborn bastard to take a liking to you.

The weather and unpredictable circumstances was not easy on the gang, including the horses, causing rations to be small among the mounts.

You always carried treats in your satchel to gain Boaz’s affection, and your efforts would eventually succeed in Colter. You would secretly slip him sugar cubes every time you left the shack, he must have appreciated the extra attention. Javier barely recognized Boaz trotting up to him in the snow, you mounted on top wearing a proud grin.

You wore a similar grin now, full of satisfaction and pride that he returned to you— with warmth flowing through him, his heart rapidly thumped in his ears, all the pent up feelings for you were reopening like floodgates.

“What’a nice feller, huh.” You cooed to the mount after a slow approach.

Showing no distress Boaz allowed your kind pats and rubs. Tenderly nudging you, the horse’s chops tried sneaking its way into your pockets, searching for the snacks you usually held after a long journey.

“Ai, fácil!”

Javier exclaimed, quickly guiding Boaz’s large snout away, the loving gestures nearly toppling you over.

“Guess I’m glad he still remembers me.” You beamed, tipping your hat lower to shield yourself from the beating sun.

“Or perhaps your donations, amor.” Javier quipped softly, his eyes wandering meekly.

Something besides time passing seemed different about him, you could not quite pinpoint it. Javier was always a timid man at first when it came to his lover, maybe your time apart presented this old side of him.

You knelt slightly, peeking under his sunken head which hung towards the ground.

“Javier? You don’t look so good.”

Your soft words managed to dig their way through his ringing ears, the man squinted his eyes tightly before swiping his lids with rough fingers.

“Uh— maybe you oughta sit for a bit, I think you’re overdressed for this heat.”

Your words broke through once again, giving a small tug on his poncho, his disoriented vision cluttered with black floating spots as you guided towards the porch.

As his vision continued to warp, the cabin doubled and skewed while you put him in the shade.

Javier knew you were speaking, your voice fading in and out irreguarly, piercing his ears every so often.

The words felt like they were being consumed by the ocean, his head bobbed up and down as if he were drowning. All he could think about was Dutch’s screams over the storm and waves, as he was about to be consumed by the large void.

But Dutch snagged him before being swept away, yanking him upon the tiny rowboat that threatened to tip from the added stress. Javier’s senses were waterlogged, rejecting the mean salty water from his lungs. As he gasped for air; the only thing he thought of was you.

“S’alright, son, You’re not dying today!” Was the first thing he heard. He faded in and out of consciousness as Dutch beat the sea water out of him, his ribcage rattling under each and every smack.

Javier sometimes wonders if Dutch should have just let him die, abandon him and allow the dark waters to engulf him whole, repaying his sins to his maker. Maybe his death would free you of your burdens.

He felt like his time had withered before Dutch had saved him anyways. Being a prisoner in Guarma is what convinced him that he would never make it back to you, sealing the deal. Your previous words borrowed time scratched at his skin again, yearning to be acknowledged.

“Ah well, I knew you’d come crawling back, you’re here for a reason.” You would always say to him after a particularly dangerous run with the gang. He would dismiss you with a mumble and a kiss, but always knew he was lucky to be alive as more of his brothers began to fall.

Sometimes he would catch you talking to a disgruntled Arthur as he packed his horse.

Upon inquiring about your words, Arthur being a somewhat vague man would shortly grumble;

“Jus’ focus on the job, and returnin’ to your woman, Javier.”

—and he always did. Javier knew you did not worry about him much, at least outwardly. But he did notice Arthur’s presence whenever trouble presented itself.

“Javier— some water.”

Your words along with a canteen dangled in front of him, the prior hallucination of a watery grave was almost enough to empty his stomach.

Javier stared back towards your shire lounging in his corral, his mind once again wandering back to the life he could have had with you.

In the midst of his tunneling vision, a lean coyote lingered through his gaze, stalking towards him, icy eyes sending daggers into his before diminishing.

“Javier. Say something.” Your words were now much clearer to him, breaking through his consciousness, the ringing disappeared from his mind fog.

“‘M alright.” He muttered, spitting out the bitter taste from his mouth.

“I reckon you oughta take it easy, being an old man n’ all now.”

Javier frowned at you and blinked a couple times, jaw agape, processing the pun you made at his dismay.

“Ha— so sorry, chica, ‘suppose I’m no longer the young buck you remember.”

He replied sarcastically, his voice both bold and hoarse as he raised back to his feet, every step whining for rest.

“Ride with me?” Javier suddenly asked as if nothing happened. It took you by surprise, he had just arrived after all.

“Alright.” You obliged shortly after a pause. “Let me grab my belt.” You continued, motioning towards the missing holsters on your frame.

“No need.” He cut you off quickly, his voice leaving traces of urgency.

“Boaz is packed.”

You eyed him up, watching the man shutter under your antagonizing gaze, how he hoped you were not suspicious of his intentions after all this time. But rightfully so, the man was yellow-bellied.

But you had no reason not to trust him.

You were not exactly sure where Javier was taking you, but for now his company was enough to keep you satisfied. The ride was eerily quiet, even for his standards, being a man of few words.

After riding a little down south he brought you to a small mountain that overlooked Mexico. He perched you both on a small flat area, just in time for the sun to sink below the land.

Javier stared over the horizon, he never really did think about how big the south was, yet how small he felt in comparison. A glimmer caught onto his peripheral, turning towards the shine was the pendent he had given you, when you both first started running with the gang.

The feeling presented itself again, feeling so small in the world— you were the home he had been searching for since the gang's fallout. It was always you.

He sank into his memories, a vessel of his former self was all that remained.

You two were quite away from your newly shared camp, with all the members and leads, the moments you had alone became quite sparse.

“What do you think, Javi?” Your sudden presence caught him off guard.

“The gang?—“ he pondered your words, leaning against a shady oak.

“I suppose they’re family for now, señorita. We’re much safer, and they’re good to us.” Javier replied, a hand brushing over the stubble on his jaw. You smiled gently with a nod, making your uneasiness all too obvious.

“It’s just temporary, amor, once we have the money to get on our feet— it’ll be the two of us again.” He reassured, a polite arm sliding around your waist.

Javier remembers the look in your eye, doubtful and full of sorrow, but you still trusted him, knowing he would never lead you astray. The same he thought about Dutch.

Repositioning himself behind you, he dug a necklace from his pocket, draping it over your chest and clasping it. You fidgeted in surprise against his movements, gazing down at the beautiful silver pendant that glistened off the very same sun. Before you could say a word he planted a kiss on your lips, gentle and quick before mounting Boaz.

“I promise!”

He called out. After blowing a kiss to you, he was off to assist the gang. He didn’t have much money at the time, but Javier always knew how to make things work—

Oh how naive of him— bright eyed and lovesick, he wanted to make a woman out of you, settle down. That is, before Dutch’s plan captivated him. Which ultimately led to this mess, but who is he kidding, he never really had a chance anyways.

Javier thought back with immense regret, wishing he was more romantic with you in a way, officially making you his chica earlier on, instead of prolonging it due to the possibility of death. He always feared that courting would further your heartbreak if something bad were to happen.

It was his own unaddressed way to cope with the harsh reality of survival and being an outlaw, he always prioritized your safety over intimacy until joining the gang. When he looks back on it, your shared time at Horseshoe Overlook and Clemons Point were some of the best times of his life.

Around that time of riding with the gang was when your relationship with him really began to evolve. The potential competition of other men drove Javier and his intimacy up a wall— his usual gentle lips ghosting over yours turned into small nips, and purple blotches he would mark on your neck late at night. A tight palm covering your mouth which muffled the moans of his name, words the man would kill to hear in such an uncaged manner. He entertained no confusion of who you belonged to; even if he did not make things official until that night at the lake.

Javier had nearly forgotten the sun had already set, and he somehow had no recollection of it. He looked down at you, only in a thin shirt as you gazed longingly off the mountain side.

The final sunset you shared was simply a ticking clock for him.

“Cold?” He whispered, words he could barely choke out.

“A little.” You replied, big doe-like eyes staring up at him, holding so much love for the man. Love he was not sure he ever deserved.

Forcing his gaze away quickly he arose, soles of his feet vibrating and pulsing with each step. After approaching Boaz his shaking hands freed his bedroll clasps, attention locked upon his rifle poking out of the saddle.

His head spun, finally digging himself out of his trance. After returning to you, he draped the cloth over you in vain.

“You okay?” You suddenly asked, your hush voice startling him, he sighed in despair.

The words you said to him at Beaver Hollow replayed through his mind,

Leave with me. Let’s run away.

But he could not get them out, his chest quivered under the constraint of his uneven breaths.

“Course.” He managed to form the word, you nodded in contentment, fresh air filling your nose.

His response would have to do for now, you decided to cut him some slack since he returned to you, after all.

By now you knew him well enough. Some nights he would stay up and collect his thoughts before laying beside you. You always respected his space, he had his demons, like everyone else. Soon enough in your slumber you would feel his protective arms drape around you, his steady breaths hitting the nape of your neck, tense body encapsulating yours— those were the nights you felt the safest, and knew he was going to manage just fine.

Other nights Javier would stay up while you were by your lonesome. He always feared something would kill the both of you while asleep, reluctantly you agreed. But the man always let you rest, you needed it more, that is for putting up with him all day round.

It was those nights he always coaxed you to sleep, you insisted he shouldn’t be awake alone, but eventually would give into the soft lulls he would sing, wordlessly agreeing that there was no point for the both of you to be cranky and tired in the morning.

—But there he sat, only to turn into the monster he swore to protect you from.

“I love you, Javier.”

Your words racked his brain, digging and clawing invasively into each one of his bones. Javier thought he imagined them until he looked over to find you staring this entire time. You knew there was something seriously wrong, but surely he would tell you within due time.

Javier’s voice was lost, swallowing suppressed sobs down his dry throat, he nearly felt like he was drowning once again in the frame he called a body.

Just like the days he would not say it back while pursuing a lead, with doubts he would not make it back to your arms— but he always did, it was the least he could do. It felt like lifetimes ago to him, how could the man choke out a te amo before sending you in?

Instead, he planted a kiss on your soft lips, lingering there for a moment, knowing it would be your last.

Looming below in the shadows, trailing to the border resided monsters he used to protect you from— two Mexican soldiers camped out by the tracks. Their lanterns flickering softly in the distance, patiently waiting for the man to arrive at the agreed meeting spot.

Javier shivered, feeling like a young boy again. His eyes fixated on the stock of his rifle that Boaz held.

Your breaths became shallow, harmonizing with the warm night’s breeze as you fell into a slumber. You trusted Javier’s judgment on setting up camp or heading home, you perhaps allowed yourself to get a little too comfortable.

It all happened so fast for him, and there was no going back. Javier’s mind blurred as he rode, Boaz fussing and fighting under his control. His very own horse feared the monster he had become, maybe poor Boaz thought he was Javier’s next victim.

He rode fast— but not fast enough to flee from himself.

A coyote lurked around the darkness, gazing at Javier from behind the two Mexican soldiers who taunted him, puffing on their big cigars from Uncle Sam.

The coyote disappeared as Javier reached for his revolver, patiently waiting for the man to shoot him— but he never did.

The soldier simply laughed, knowing Javier’s bark had no bite. While under Allende’s power, he was simply a coward a soldier would not even match out of pity.

Soon enough the two men fled into the night, banter that could be heard a mile away through the ravines. Anyone could have mistaken them for sick hyenas.

He could hear their stallions riding hard in triumph, with a new prize Javier held so close for many years, he watched the soldiers grow smaller and smaller over the uneven land until the darkness swallowed them whole, taking a piece of him along.

The nighttimes ahead would find Javier in a one horse town saloon, nodding off more times than he could remember. His glass turned from full to empty until his vision doubled.

Javier was not sure how many days had passed, the whiskey dulling his mind and senses, but the thoughts still ate him alive.

Did you think he would come for you? Or would you be envious, spilling everything you could before meeting the gallows.

Javier hid in his palms, knowing he got it all wrong— it should have been him.

It did not take too long for the man to get kicked out from the saloon due to his drunken stupor, not even the bartender wanted his dirty money.

Javier took Boaz to what he thought was east, the coyote returned to accompany him, lurking around on the monotone forest floors he traveled.

The night breeze made Javier reminisce of the times at camp, the very same breeze that whipped through your hair as you would drag him off somewhere secluded, your mischievous grin reflecting off the summer night's moon as you snuck off into the bushes.

You gave everything to each other— all for nothing it seems.

Javier sank lower into himself before eventually staggering off Boaz. It only took him a few unsteady steps to empty his bowels on the dirt path, elbows hoisting him up on his shaky bent knees.

Peeking out from his jacket cuff was a scar he once wore proudly on his wrist. A scar he earned in some honky tonk town just because another man looked at you wrong. The mere thought of it worsened his nausea.

All signs pointed to you, and you were gone because of reasons he barely understood himself— He feared he didn’t know what loyalty was anymore. Or what he stood for in fact.

Your blind love killed you in the end, and it was his cross to bear.

The sky was dark and dull, which was just as familiar as a bottle and a glass. Not a single star in the sky greeted him, leaving him to fester alone.

The wind howled violently through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and sway. A northern was quickly sneaking upon the lands of New Austin.

His lone coyote joined him on a distant cliffside, coat black as sin, mocking the cowboy who lingered below.

#rdr2 headcanons #javier escuella #x reader #javier escuella x reader #headcanons #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr x reader #red dead redemption fandom #tried using metaphors and connecting it to both the in game lore and part 1 #i think i like it???#low honor #but could be occ still?

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jen-with-a-pen · 6 months

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⊹-୨୧-⊹𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⊹-୨୧-⊹

⊹–SUMMARY–⊹ Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

⊹–PAIRINGS–⊹ Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!F!Reader

⊹–WARNINGS–⊹ more to be added as series progresses frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear The warnings listed here are not exhaustive but generally encapsulate the series as a whole and do not represent every single chapter. Please be mindful and read the chapter warnings!

Read this fic on AO3!

The Richards College Playlist

Steve's Playlist

any art featured in the series title header and story-specific dividers was found on pinterest and is used in good faith. all credit goes to the original artists, as i could not find accurate credit for any. collage done by me

Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!

ALL TIED UP: STEVE'S WEEK

–⊹– One: Saturday, currently.

–⊹– Two: Last Monday.

–⊹– Three: Last Tuesday.

–⊹– Four: Last Wednesday.

–⊹– Five: Last Thursday.

–⊹– Six: Saturday, still.

–⊹– Seven: Last Friday.

–⊹– Eight: Saturday, again.

–⊹– Nine: Saturday, again.

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gumiluver · 2 months

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TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS! ~ JUJUTSU KAISEN

synopsis: what happens when two pretty best friends get you in their grasp?

cover pic credit: k1tty_4ndy on pinterest |border credit: @/cafekitsune

lovers <3: gojo satoru x afab!reader x geto suguru

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact (you will be blocked!)

cw: nsfw, pwp, fingering, oral (f. receiving), manhandling, threesome (mfm), dirty talk (suguru’s a slut with his words), squirting, pet names

an: hope y’all enjoy! I’m considering making this a series with different jjk!best friend pairings!…lmk if you guys would be interested in smthn like that <3

“Ohh, do that again—she likes that,” Suguru groans, enchanted by the way your pretty eyes cross in a haze of lust-filled bliss. He’s got you in between his legs, a fistful of your hair in his grasp, making you angle your head up towards him so he can gaze upon your innocent face and watch it slowly morph into the fucked out cumslut he knows his good girl is.

“Hah, ‘course she does,” Gojo snickers, reveling at how your sweet pussy drips oh so deliciously for him.

“It’s ‘cause of me isn’t it, princess? You like when your ‘toru touches you right…” he trails off, creating an even deeper ache in your already pulsing cunt. He slowly weaves his index and middle finger through your folds to find your dripping core and finishes off his remark with a thrust of his fingers,”…here.”

“Ngghhh—fuuuck!!” you cry, overtaken by the intrusion of Satoru’s fingers that were, yet again, making their way into your gummy walls. His fingers move with purpose and certainty, hooking them toward your plush womb with the sole intention of abusing that spongy spot that makes you weep for him.

You felt like you were suffocating. Geto’s firm grip on your hair and neck leaves you squirming in his hold, but he’s quick to put you back in your place, “be good for us sweetheart, I’d hate to have to punish you so soon,” he chides, secretly hoping that you’d start to lose your rationality and step out of line. The shiver that rides along your spine doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, and he takes pride in knowing how his words sway you towards submission.

It seems like Satoru was able to read his best friend's intentions and wanted nothing more than to aid him in your descent, noting how Suguru’s clenched jaw and bulging arm veins hold him hostage from his true desires. He could see the sheer restraint that his best friend was holding onto, and Gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t holding himself back as well.

Because fuck—look at ya.

Your head was thrown back, sheer ecstasy written on your face as Satoru quickened his pace, effectively fingering you into an early orgasm that had you squirting all over the two. The moans and cries you let out have both men grunting like animals, humping up into the air to gain some sort of friction on their sensitive cocks. Your hips sway in tandem with Satoru’s fingers, making both men become hypnotized by the very essence of your being. Both men drooling like fucking dogs, waiting to sink their teeth into you, waiting for your beck n’ call. The glistening sheen that radiates from your body resembles an innocent-like aura, just begging to be corrupted—and corrupt they shall.

Satoru’s already conjured up his own sick and twisted plans, wanting to get you an all fours to fuck you from behind while watching his pretty best friend fuck his lover's mouth.

And of course, Suguru had his own salacious desires, aching to see you split on top of his dick as he watches his pretty best friend jerk off at the sight of him fucking you.

And you? Well, you’d be happy if either of them would hurry up and fuck you already—the endless teasing starting to weave between the lines of pleasure and pain. Satoru continues to overstimulate your poor cunt and Suguru’s grip on you makes you yearn for something harder—something rougher.

Satoru’s ability of forethought seemed to have played in your favor as well, seeing as he can’t help but gaze at your sweet cunt that’s just begging to be filled. You can see his cock strain against his boxer briefs, an occasional twitch or two catching your attention and making you drool—wanting to taste his heavy tip.

Your gaze is hyper-fixated on Satoru’s cock now, your body moving forward—like a magnet being drawn to its force. But before you could even reach him, you feel yourself get pulled back into Suguru’s chest, “Ah—ah—ah, where do you think you’re going, pretty girl? Did you forget about me?”

You look up towards Suguru again, puppy dog eyes on full display to convey your innocence, “n-no!! I’d never forget you Sugu~” you cry, reaching up to place a warm hand on his cheek. You look over to Satoru who’s watching the two of you intently and beckon him over, wanting to please both your lovers equally, “Just wanna feel you—both of you.”

And who were they to deny their precious baby? The one and only person that could make them drop to their knees and beg for just a simple taste of you. The single most important person in the world to them. And most importantly, the only person that they are willing to share and love, together.

“Mmmm—fuckin’ love hearin’ you cry for us, such a desperate little thing. Isn’t that right, Satoru?” Suguru says, a cocky smirk adorning his face as he sees your blush darken over your cheeks. He squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, loving the way your plump limps perk together for him to kiss and suck on.

“Mhm~, poor baby’s just drippin’ for us,” Satoru responds, lowering his head down towards your cunt. Before you can protest, before you can even beg for their cocks, Suguru covers your mouth and pins your body on top of his. His forearm holding you down as Satoru spreads your thighs open again but this time, to suckle at your pink bud, and the whimper that you let out is like fucking music to their ears.

“I know you want our cocks sweetheart, but we gotta prep you more. Just relax, let us make you feel good,” Suguru charms, lulling you into a state of naivety to get you to blindly trust them. With the multiple orgasms that Satoru has been pulling from you coupled with Suguru’s debauched speech, you were more than ready to take both of them at this point.

But this? This was pure greed, from both men.

Suguru, wanting to see just how much you can handle before you’re a fucked out crying mess, begging to be stuffed with their cocks. And Satoru, reveling in your taste and secretly hoping to get you to squirt on his face.

Both men had their filthy little plans of watching you come undone, and both were intrigued by what the other’s plans were to get you to come undone.

And you? Well, all you could do was take it. Take the pleasurable torment. Take what they give you and then some.

After all, who knows what these two pretty best friends have in store for you in the long run?

an: what did you guys think?? I love hearing your feedback and what you enjoyed!! Should I make this a series? <33

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months

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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 4

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: food's ready, come dish up guys

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), intercourse, dirty talking, unprotected sex, masturbation, mind speak sexting?, physical abuse, mentions of SA.

Word count: 6993

(all photos are from pinterest)

That night, after Rhysand reclothed me, we talked about the future and how Tamlin needed to know, before things got messy with Eris or before he finds out and flips. All I had to do now was wait for the opportune time, which never seemed to come as Tamlin and Tarquin had been having tension. It seemed that part of the Spring Court’s lands on the border were prime farming spots for some of the spices that the farmers in the Summer Court grew. Tarquin had asked Tamilin to purchase the land and of course when Tamlin said no things started to get messy. Tamlin would go out and negotiate daily, and everyday he would come home angry.

Tonight was no exception.

I was sitting in one of the tea rooms reading my book when I heard him come home. The front door slammed, shaking the house, and then his office door slammed even harder.

I flinched.

It has been like this for three days now. I looked at the clock on the wall and figured it was better for me to retire to my room with my novel for the night.

I barricaded my door just for safety and crawled under the covers lighting a candle so that I could pick up where I left off. The main characters had finally confessed their love for one another and things were starting to get steamy. My eyes flitted across a particularly hot line and I felt my toes curl without warning once again. I should’ve known I was going to feel a little tug at the bond, but I was unprepared for the taut pull Rhysand gave me.

Up late reading your dirty books mate?

“Yes, I just needed the distraction,” I replied.

Did you tell your brother yet?

I felt a pang of guilt, he had been waiting so dutifully for me to do so, and yet another day had passed where I was too scared, “I didn’t, he came home slamming doors and breaking vases again. I’m sorry Rhys.”

There’s no need to apologize. I want you to be safe after all.

“Thank you for understanding,” I say sweetly

Of course mate. Now tell me what in this book has you all riled up? He says and I can hear his smirk.

“A lady never kisses and tells,” I quip back.

Ahh yes but ladies also don’t let strange men eat them out in secret rooms at balls. He says coolly.

“Rhysand you little shit!” I laugh down the bond.

Come on my love, I’m dying to know what gets you off… Besides my tongue of course.

I roll my eyes and try to send the emotion down the bond, It’s nothing special really, he’s just fucking her, but he’s waited a while to do it so it’s extra steamy. I laugh.

Poor bastard, I know the feeling. Rhys chuckles and I feel arousal flood between my legs.

I can’t help but let my hand drift between my legs. Since Rhys touched me at the ball it’s all I’ve thought about (not that I would ever let him know). But suddenly the need for him has been so much stronger, I chalk it up to the mating bond strengthening, needing to be consummated. I let my hand dip between my panties and I try to keep my emotions from flooding the bond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing I could get off on his words alone.

“Subtle Rhys,” I chuckle.

I don’t need to be subtle, I told you exactly how it was going to go down that night at the ball did I not?

My heart races and I let my finger on my clit speed up.

“I suppose you’re right,” I say.

Are you touching yourself darling? He purrs.

Shit.

“No,” I lie.

You’re a terrible liar and you always have been, he chuckles. I can feel you, my mate.

“Damnit,” I curse, pulling my hand from my panties.

Oh don’t you dare stop now, not when I’m currently fisting my cock.

The image of Rhysand laying on his bed, naked, glorious and pumping his cock sends a wave of arousal straight through me and I practically scramble to shove my hands into my panties.

Now tell me, are you playing with that beautiful little clit? The one I licked at the ball?

Oh I was so in for it with this man, I was so utterly and terribly fucked.

“Yes,” I admit quietly.

Then I am terribly jealous of those delicate fingers.

“Rhys,” I moaned back. It was all I could think about, him.

Slip a finger in that tight little cunt won’t you darling?

As stupid as it felt I did it, and god it felt good. Not as good as his felt, but it would have to do.

“It doesn’t feel as good as you,” I say, trying to play the game.

I hear him chuckle, No my dear they don’t and they never will.

“Are you close?” I ask, feeling my own orgasm coming.

Let me hear those little begs again and I will be, he drawls.

I know exactly what he means. After he feasted on me at the ball and I nearly jumped his bones afterwards. When he said he wanted to wait I pathetically let out a whine.

“Please Rhys, I need you.” I plead.

Fuck y/n, I hear him moan and it’s enough to make me hit my climax.

“Oh fuck!” I cry down the bond.

His own string of curses followed as he came himself and I could picture him lying there, chest sweaty and heaving, the aftermath of his orgasm all over him. It was almost enough to make me reach my hands down my panties again, almost.

“So mind sex? That’s your thing?” I taunt him.

A loud chuckle reverberates through my mind, No you’re my thing darling.

“I’m flattered,” I laugh.

A moment of silence passes and my chest continues heaving as I crawl further under the covers and blow out my candle. Romance book long forgotten. I sit in the quiet for a little longer waiting for Rhys to say something, until I finally speak up.

“Are you still there?” I ask timidly.

Always, simply catching my breath. How was your day today?

“Boring, I don’t really have any friends here except my ladies maids and they are all terrible snoops. Tamlin has them in his back pocket.” I sigh.

Just wait till you meet Nuala and Cerridwen, they’re snoops too. He laughs.

“I can’t wait to,” I say.

I’m happy to finally hear you say that. He muses and I can practically feel his smile.

“Well I better get some sleep. If I plan on telling Tamlin tomorrow I’ll need my wits about me.” I sigh.

Goodnight darling, I love you.

There’s a hopefulness in his words. One I can’t meet. That phrase, ‘I love you’. I knew I should say it back. But I didn’t know what love meant. Didn’t know how it felt. I couldn't bring myself to return the sentiment.

"Goodnight Rhys," was all I could say.

The next morning I woke up and Tamlin had already left, which was a damn shame because I would’ve liked to have told him before he had gone to fight with Tarquin all day.

I paced most of the day in the tea room as I was beginning to grow antsy. Last night proved to me just how much I needed Rhysand, physically of course because of the bond. My skin was nearly sweating with need. I tried to read my book but it didn’t do much to help. I tried to go out and pick flowers for the dining table and it got me nowhere. To make matters worse it felt like Tamlin was gone for longer than usual as the darkness slid in, the moonlight shone, and all the lanterns and candles magically were lit.

I started pacing in the foyer waiting for him to arrive home. Maybe he was taking so long because he had finally reasoned with Tarquin. I thought to myself. But as the doorknob jiggled and a fiery looking Tamlin came in I knew how dead wrong I was.

“How was your meeting with Tarquin?” I asked, trying to seem sisterly, like that had ever won his affections.

“Awful! The stubborn brute wants to take part of my land and only give me 20% of its profits per harvest!” he yells storming through the hall. I follow him.

“20% isn’t bad, maybe you could show him what a generous High Lord you are by accepting the offer,” I chirped enthusiastically.

“Are you out of your mind?” he whirls to look at me. “20% is cheap sister, not that you would ever have the mind for money. All you know how to do is spend mine.”

“Tamlin, that's not fair and you know it.” I reason.

“What does it matter anyways,” he rolls his eyes and begins storming off again. “You’ll be worth your weight in gold once you marry Eris and become his consort.”

Fire boiled in my veins, “I already told you Tamlin, I don’t want to marry Eris. God how fucking selfish and cruel do you have to be to sell your sister off to a monster?!” I scream and as the words leave my mouth I already regret saying them. I had never been so bold in my life, at least not with Tamlin.

I don’t even have time to react before I feel a harsh slap across my face knocking me to the ground. “YOU ARE MY SISTER AND A WOMAN IN THIS COURT!” Tamlin screams at me. He picks me up by my hair, “and you will not question how I rule it.”

Tears prick my eyes as the skin of my cheek burns. Tamlin releases my hair dropping my body to the ground and I’m left in a heap of tulle and tears as he slams his door.

Are you okay? My mate calls into my mind.

I press my cold hand to my cheek, “yeah I’m fine.”

No you’re not, you're hurt.

“I’m fine Rhys, it’s not bad,” I say, pulling myself up off the floor and winnowing to my room.

What happened?

I sigh, knowing he’ll badger me until he gets an answer. “I tried to get Tamilin to make amends with Tarquin so that he would be in a good mood and he hit me.”

He hit you? I could hear him growling, feel the anger down the bond.

“It’s really fine Rhys, I’m in my room now and I’m safe.” I say trying to calm him down.

I’m going to fucking kill him y/n. I’m coming to get you right now. I’m not letting you stay there another minute.

“Rhys please! Stop and be reasonable. If you barrel in right now it’s going to piss Tamlin off even more. He could hurt me or worse. We have to be civil about all this.” I reason with him.

Fine, but no more after this y/n. I can’t stand it any longer. It’s killing me from the inside out. To know you’re in that horrible place. When you could be safe and warm here.

“I promise I will figure this out, I just need time,” I assure him.

I know you will, my beautiful strong mate.

“Tamlin hurry up, we're already late!” Lucien screams from the foyer. It was another council day and I had hoped that Tamilin would finally be able to reason with Tarquin.

Yesterday I went into town to shop for a new dress, it seemed I had exhausted all my other purple ones and I wanted more. I picked out a dress that was a far darker purple than any I had worn before. But it seemed fitting, seemed more Rhysand.

“Let’s go,” Tamilin ordered entering the room in a huff. He peered at the dress I was wearing, “Purple again? I’d think you’ve grown tired of it by now.”

Was this really his method of trying to make up for hitting me and yelling at me? Giving me a somewhat backhanded compliment?

“Viviane said that it was my color,” I replied, not entirely a lie.

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed Lucien and winnowed us to the Night Court.

I had no clue what to expect from the Night Court. I had never been before today. I had only ever heard stories. Stories of its darkness and its monsters. When we arrived I almost couldn’t believe that this is where Rhysand lived.

The large city under the mountain had a darkness to it, while faelights bobbed all around, it didn’t hide the darkness in the shadows that lingered. The city under the mountain was a metropolis, and it was terrifying with its large spires all around. Every surface is carved with lovely, hideous artwork: figures dance and fornicate, beg and revel. I was surprised Tamlin even allowed me to come with him today.

We enter into a dimly lit chamber where all the Lords are already seated and waiting for us to arrive, Tamlin apologizes and chalks it up to me taking too long to primp, a lie of course. As my eyes scan the room I see only two chairs open and one happens to be next to Rhysand. I try to hide the smirk on my face as I take the seat next to him, forcing Tamlin to take the other one.

You look ravishing as always. Croons Rhyand.

“Thank you, the dress is new,” I smile.

New and purple? You flatter me mate. He smirks.

I chuckle down the bond, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, Vivianne said she liked me in purple as well.”

Well then I’ll have to thank Viviane later. He smiles.

The council begins and just like I figured Tamlin and Tarquin laid into one another right away. All the other Lords but Rhysand and Kallias chimed in to solve the issue, but the winter and night court Lords seemed content to watch it all play out and I didn’t blame them. It took everything in me to not turn to the side to look at Rhys. His presence was so commanding especially in his own court and I had missed his face, those eyes, so much.

I felt a large hand being placed over my own under the table.

You’re going to get me in trouble. I gripe at Rhys but flip my hand so I can hold his back.

Shh no one can see, I just wanted to feel you.

Eventually the fighting dies down as the Lords end up forcing Tamlin to accept the deal Tarquin has offered and I try not to smile as my brother’s pissed off face. Turns out I was right and 20% isn’t such a low number after all. Rhys lets go of my hand to stand and address the room.

“I think we’ve had more than enough political talk, why don’t we disband.” he states, and it sounds like his voice booms off the walls of the room.

A murmur of agreement fills the room as the sound of obsidian chairs scratch the stone below, signaling that the lords are getting up. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I feel my stomach pit, is Rhysand stupid? But when I turn around I’m met with the raking stare of Eris Vanserra.

“Hello my little fox, I was wondering if I might speak to you for a moment?” He asks, and I can practically feel Tamlin staring daggers into the side of my head.

“Yes of course my Lord,” I smile taking his arm.

We promenade outside the council meeting room and into the hallway. I look up to find faint faelight glowing from large chandeliers, the walls are filled with tapestries and statues of people fucking and begging just like in the rest of the city. Large pillars shoot up from the aisles supporting the large room and I still wonder how Rhys could possibly live here.

“I’m sorry for taking you away so soon, I know that you love to talk to Viviane, but I just had to see you,” Eris says.

“No apologies necessary,” I reply, still taking in the sites around me.

“I know that your brother and my father are still negotiating the terms of our marriage but I couldn’t wait to give you this,” he says before pulling a long black box out of his pocket, and opening it up.

Inside lies a rather large and beautiful necklace. A huge golden crystal is attached by a string of glittering diamonds. If it was given to me by anyone else I would’ve thought it beautiful, but I knew it’s true meaning, it’s true purpose. It wasn’t just a piece of fine jewelry, it was a collar, meant to show everyone I belonged to Eris now. I took a mental deep breath.

“Oh Eris, it’s beautiful!” I gasp, running my hands over the chain.

“I knew you would like it,” he smiled. “Here allow me to help you put it on.”

I turn around and feel him place the heavy jewel around my neck. The weight of it already making me feel shackled. His fingers dust over the nape of my neck fastening the clasp. He kisses my shoulder when he’s done and I feel his hands gently turning me around so he can see it on me.

“It looks beautiful on you, like it was made for you,” he smiles, hand caressing my face.

“I love it, thank you,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort.

“I promise you that when we are officially engaged you will have even bigger jewels,” he smirks, stepping forward even closer, causing me to step back. “And when we’re married even bigger jewels,” He croons and my back hits one of the many pillars. “But I’ll save the biggest and most expensive ones for when you bear me our first son.” he smirks and there’s nothing I can do to stop him from crashing his lips on mine.

Eris kisses me hungrily and needily as my hands fly to the pillar my back is pressed on, any little movement to keep him farther away from me. His hands drop to wander my waist and I feel the entire room shudder causing pieces of dust to fly up everywhere. Eris pulls himself off of me.

“What was that?” I ask afraid.

“I’m not sure, I’ll go check,” Eris replies and he leaves me to run back to the council chambers to confer with the rest of the Lords.

I step forward from the pillar and take a deep breath. I start to follow Eris back to the council room but then my skin starts to buzz again and I stop in my tracks. Rhysand’s hands graze up my arms from behind me as he leaves gentle kisses on my neck.

“That was you wasn’t it?” I smirk.

“Maybe,” he smiles into my skin. “He had a lot of nerve kissing my mate in my court.”

“To be fair he didn’t know,” I giggle.

“I don’t care, he was lucky I didn’t rip his head off,” he says, continuing to kiss my neck.

“This place is terrifying, how do you live here?” I laugh.

“I don’t, this place is just where I entertain other Lords,” he explains, kissing my neck still.

“Then where do you live?” I ask, reaching up to press my hand against his face, encouraging him not to stop.

He smiles against my skin, “I want you to tell your brother that you’re staying with Viviane again tonight.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because, I finally have you here, in my court. I want you to stay here with me, even if it’s just for one night.” he emphasizes his statement with a long lick up my neck that has my toes curling in my shoes.

I turn to look at him, “are you sure my brother won’t find out?” I ask, finally looking into those violet eyes I had been missing.

“I’m positive,” he smiles and his eyes glance down to the necklace. “You weren’t wearing that earlier.”

I roll my eyes, “Eris just gave it to me. He said it was a gift but it feels more like a collar.” I say straightening my shoulders in discomfort from the weight of it.

Rhysand doesn’t say anything, he just reaches a hand around the back of my neck to unclasp the necklace. I immediately feel the weight fall off into his hand and he looks at it before chucking it somewhere in the room.

“Rhys!” I laugh.

“Much better now we can see your pretty neck,” he smirks before leaning in to kiss me. I practically melt into his touch.

Because the rest of the Lord ganged up on him, Tamlin left early and just like Rhys asked, I told him I would be staying with Viviane tonight. Tamlin didn’t even bat an eyelash. It wasn’t long until the last couple, Kallias and Viviane, left. I turned to see Rhys staring at me from across the room with that playful smirk I always wanted to kiss off his face.

“Are you ready to go mate?” he asked, holding out his arm to mine.

I took it eagerly, “To go where?” I asked earnestly.

“To Velaris,” he smiled brighter than I had ever seen him smile before and before I could question further he winnowed us away.

When the shadows cleared I was in a house. A lush, beautiful and homey house. Thick red wool carpeted the floor, and the walls were made of a rich wood. Comfy chairs and chaises were littered about and a warm fire sprung to life. It looked lived in and loved compared to the mansion in the Spring Court.

“So this is where you live?” I ask taking in my sights.

“Yes it is. The place we just were? We call it The Court of Nightmares, that’s where we conduct business to keep up appearances for other courts. But this is where I live, Velaris, the city of starlight.” he explains watching me take it all in.

I look out a large window and see the golden fae lights of the village beyond. It sits below a large snow capped mountain. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it already feels like home.

“What do you mean we?” I ask. Before I can answer two large crashes come from the terrace outside causing me to jump.

“I mean my cousin Mor, my second in command and of course Cassian and Azriel.” he says nodding to the doors where the two Illyrians from the ball are waltzing in. “Y/n this is Azriel, “ Rhysand nods to the one with the shorter hair and Azriel waves. “And this is Cassian.” he nods to the one with the longer hair.

“Ahh yes the one that bites,” I muse.

“Only sometimes,” Cassian chuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you y/n,” he says, holding out his hand.

I shake it and my whole hand nearly disappears in his just like Rhysand’s. “The pleasure is all mine, I’ve never met an Illyrian before.” I say looking over his large wings.

“Then you’re missing out for sure,” he says looking at Azriel who just rolls his eyes.

“Your wings are magnificent, would you mind if I…” my words fall short as I hold up my hand.

“Touch them?” Cassian asks. “Go right ahead y/n,” he smirks, eyes flitting to Rhys.

I reach my hand out to graze over the material of his wings, they feel like leather. They are rugged to the touch and I can tell that they have seen many years of battle. I hear what sounds like the snapping of leather behind me. I turn around and my jaw nearly hits the floor. There before me, Rhysand stands with his own Illyrian wings.

“I have wings too you know,” Rhysand says as he tilts his head.

Cassian erupts into laughter, “Feeling a bit jealous there Rhys?” he jokes.

Rhys just rolls his eyes and pulls a hand out of his pocket and offers it to me. I take his hand, still too stunned to find Rhys with wings to even speak.

“We’ll see you two later, I’m going to give y/n the rest of the tour,” Rhysand drawls leading me towards the stairs.

“Goodnight you two,” Cassian drawls before taking off with Azriel.

“I didn’t know you had wings” I say, still bewildered staring up at them.

“It’s not really something I make a spectacle of. I only have them out when I’m going to use them, otherwise they tend to get in the way,” he explains, leading me up the stairs.

“So you can shift back and forth between having them and not having them?” I ask.

“Essentially, yes,” he says and shifts back to his wingless form just to prove the point.

“So what was the deal with me touching Cassian’s wings? Is that like taboo or something?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat up remembering how Cassian smirked at Rhys when I asked.

“Illyrians can feel through their wings and are known to attack first and ask questions later if they are touched without invitation. It was basically like if you ask if you could touch his abs,” Rhysand chuckles.

“Oh,” I said, my heart stopping. “Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad, Cassian loves teasing me. He let you touch his wings just to watch my face as you did so,” Rhys laughed again, opening a door to our left. “This is one of the guest rooms.”

I look around at the somewhat dark room, the same lush carpet coats the floor along with the same wooden paneling. It was quaint and perfect. Rhys continued leading us down the hall to show me another guest room which was much like the first just a little bit bigger. He explained that they were the rooms Cassian and Azriel slept in for Solstice.

“And this is my room,” he explained before opening the door to the last room in the hallway.

The room is much larger than the other two, the huge bed was made with dark black and purple blankets and pillows. I heard the door close as I continued to explore. The bed sat next to a balcony that had the same view of the living room, the village lit with fae lights and the snowy mountain. To the left was a large bathroom with a bathtub, large enough I realized, to fit Rhysand’s wings.

“Your room is-”

“Our room. This is our room now.” he says and I turn to meet his gaze. “I’ve waited so long to see you standing here. In Velaris, in the townhouse, in this room.”

“And what is it that I’m normally doing in this room, Rhys?” I smile, faking my innocence.

“Well,” he drawls, stepping closer to me. “It goes a little something like this,” he muses before placing a hand on my cheek and kissing me.

This kiss is different, less heated than all the others we shared before it. It holds all the passion of what’s to come, what we both know is coming. His hands slide to my waist and I let out a small moan and I can feel Rhys trying not to smile. My hands tangle in his hair pulling him closer as I feel my legs hit the mattress. He pulls me closer to him so I don’t fall and I feel him turn me around so my back is facing him.

“Normally I would use my magic to take your clothes off,” he says voice low, his hands unlacing the corset in my dress. “But I want to take my time with you tonight,” he continues undoing the last lace.

I nearly melt at his words, but I feel the dress start to fall and I grab the top of it to keep it from falling down. The dress didn’t allow for any undergarments meaning I would be completely bare to him.

Rhysand places a kiss on my shoulder, “You’ve never let a man see you naked before have you?” he asks.

“No I haven’t,” I say shyly. I feel a moment of fear but turn around and let my dress fall to the floor in a giant pile of purple chiffon. Rhysand’s eyes rake down my body and I move to cover my breast with my arms as pink tints my cheeks.

“Don’t you dare cover those perfect breasts mate,” he says gently, pulling my arms away. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky to call you my mate.” he kisses me again, absolving any fear I have as I feel his hands finally roam my naked body. I push him away lightly.

“I want to see you too,” I say breathlessly looking into his eyes that are suddenly a darker shade of violet than they were before.

“As my mate commands,” he smirks, standing back to take off his clothes. His eyes locked on mine, never breaking eye contact until he stood before me completely bare.

I let my eyes rake down on him. His body ripples with strong and lean muscles, the upper part of his chest and shoulders are covered in swirling tattoos. My eyes dare to travel lower over his abs to his straining cock. All I can think to myself is there’s no way that’s going to fit inside me.

Rhysand chuckles, stepping towards me, “I promise it will fit mate.”

“Shit I said that out loud?” I curse ducking my chin in embarrassment.

“No you didn’t, but your thoughts were so loud you might as well have,” he laughs tilting my chin up to meet his eyes.

My eyes drift down to his chest again and I finally let my hands wander the muscles on his chest. His skin soft and smooth under my fingers, I run them up his abs, over his pecs, across his shoulders and down his arms earning a low groan from him. I take his hands and place them on my waist, throwing my own over his shoulders and as I look into his eyes the words just tumble out of me.

“I love you Rhys,” I breathe.

“You don’t have to say it just because I said it the other day,” he says almost sadly.

“I’m not. I love you Rhysand,” I smile.

A smile spreads across his face, “I love you too mate.”

His hands pull me closer to him and I can feel my breasts pressing against his chest as he seals our lips again. This time the kiss is more needy as I feel my heart rate pick up. His frame backs me up and I can feel his cock pressing into me making me practically moan into the kiss.

My legs hit the mattress again, this time he lets me fall onto the bed. I open my eyes and watch his eyes rake down me again, nothing short of a predatory gaze behind them. His knees hit the mattress and he crawls over me, caging me in with his arms. He kisses me deeply and begins to move his lips down my jaw and to my neck again. I can feel his restraint as he tries not to leave love bites all over me. His lips go lower and lower and my chest starts to heave in anticipation of what I think is next.

“Your breasts,” he says, kissing the top of each one. “Are the most beautiful pair of breasts I’ve ever seen. I should’ve worshiped them the moment that dress hit the floor.” He smirked.

He started kissing the underside of each breast, then the sides and then the tops again purposefully avoiding the one place I wanted his mouth the most, making me squirm.

“And these pretty pink nipples,” he says before finally taking one in his mouth and suckling.

“Oh fuck,” I breathe having my back arch into him. His other hand comes up to draw little circles on my other nipple.

“Dirty mouth mate,” he teases before resuming his menstrations.

My hands fly to his hair as I pull him closer to me needing more of him. Needing all of him.

“Wouldn’t want this one to think I don’t love it,” he smirks before sucking my other bud into his mouth.

“Rhys please,” I breathe tugging at his hair.

“So eager are we mate?” he says kissing down my body till he gets to my core. He skips over it and sits up, taking my leg and kissing my ankle. He draws a path of kisses all the way down my leg till he reaches the inside of my thigh. He gives me an evil grin before sitting up and beginning to do the same with the other leg.

“Ugh Rhysand!” I groan, causing him to chuckle.

“I told you I wanted to take my time mate,” he chuckles against my calf. “Was there a certain body part you were hoping I would kiss?” he asks suggestively.

“Your favorite part,” I muse.

“You cruel wicked thing. As if I could ever just choose one part of you to be my favorite.” he says, acting wounded, putting my leg down. He leans into my pussy and places a kiss there running a finger through my folds. “Though I will say that one of my top contenders is this pretty little clit.” he hums lowly before flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves.

“Ahh,” I scream, my hands going straight to his hair.

“Precisely why I love it. I love the little sounds you make when I lick it,” he growls before diving in to feast on me.

“Oh my gods Rhys!” I scream, grinding my hips into his face.

That’s right y/n I wanna hear everything. We’re not in Beron’s office anymore, scream for me mate. He says into my mind and I do.

I scream and writhe and moan. My eyes flit down to where his mouth is attached to my pussy. His darkened eyes look up at me watching the pleasure rake through my body. One of his hands comes from my hip and I feel his fingers tease my entrance before he slides one into me. His mouth continues suckling on my clit as his fingers curl to massage that spot inside of me that I didn’t know was there until he touched it at the ball.

Gods your pussy tastes so good. After we’re officially mated I promise to spend a whole night between your legs eating you out until you can’t move.

“Rhys!” I scream, his words my undoing as I cum on his tongue. He works me through my orgasm until my legs stop shaking and then he pulls his finger from me. He places a kiss on my clit one last time before moving up the bed. He watches me as he sucks all my leftover cum on his finger off.

I grab his neck and pull him down to kiss me again. He slips his tongue into my mouth and I can taste myself on him. My hands run down his back feeling the powerful muscles there, gods I could just sit here and touch him all day. He was as beautiful as I had pictured him that one night not too long ago. He was everything and he was mine.

“That’s right mate, I am yours,” he said between kisses. Clearly my thoughts we’re projecting again.

“And I am yours Rhys,” I breathe, and he takes a moment to study my face trying to read if I really mean it, like he thought the words would never leave my mouth.

“Mine,” he grumbles, connecting our lips again. “Beautiful and perfect and all fucking mine.”

I feel his cock nudging my entrance and I gasp. I want it, I want all of him, but I’m scared.

“Rhys I’m scared, I’ve never had sex before,” I say.

“Don’t worry darling I wasn’t going to push in yet. Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sweetly.

“Yes I’m ready,” I nod.

“Okay tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll stop right away okay?” He says, kissing my forehead.

“I will, I promise,” I assure him, cupping his cheek.

“Here we go,” he says and I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance and it’s enough to have a large wave of arousal flood between my legs once more.

He pushes his tip in and I start to feel the burn but I don’t say anything as he slowly continues to push in. I feel him stretching me and the mixture of pleasure and pain starts to take over my body. Once he’s nearly fully inside me I wince and he stops.

“Shh it’s okay, you’re doing so good my mate,” he coos, kissing my brow.

“I’m good now, keep going,” I breathe.

I feel him bottom out inside me and I scream in both pain and pleasure once more.

“Fuck y/n,” he groans, but he doesn’t move trying to give me time to adjust. I relish how full I feel with him all the way in me and I look down at his arms. His muscles are taught and his veins are nearly popping and I realize it’s taking everything inside of him not to pull his cock out and slam it into me. The thought of him taking me so rough puts butterflies in my stomach.

“Rhys please move,” I cry trying to rock my hips into him.

He pulls out a little and thrusts back in and I hold back my cry as he does it again. He starts to build up a good slow tempo and after a while the pain disappears.

“Fuck you’re taking me so good, you’re doing so good mate.” he groans trying to keep himself from losing control.

“Harder Rhys,” I whine running my hands through his hair.

“No I don’t want to hurt you,” he shakes his head watching his cock disappear inside of me looking for any hint of discomfort.

He’s being gentle, trying to make sure I feel good. But all I can think of are his whimpers and moans from when he stroked his cock a few nights ago, and how desperately I want to hear them again. How desperately I want my pussy to be the thing that draws them from his lips.

I grab his face and force him to look at me so that he can see how dead serious I really was, “Rhys I want you to fuck me,” I ordered him.

“Fuck y/n,” his eyes widened and I could see all resolve has left exit his body.

His hips thrusted into me harder and I strangled cry left my mouth as he continued to fuck me. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room as my nails raked down his back, bringing those moans of his to the surface, I could’ve came right there.

“Fuck Rhys it feels so good,” I say blissfully.

“Gods mate how is your pussy so tiny and tight?” he groans into my neck fucking me harder. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”

I feel his lips crash onto mine again, hips never faltering. I can barely keep our lips attached as he keeps pulling moans from me and all I can think is how utterly his I am.

“Say it again,” he grits out and I know exactly what he means.

“I’m yours Rhysand,” I hum.

“Mine,” he grunts fucking me even harder.

The new pace has me seeing stars as I grip onto his shoulders leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. I feel the ever familiar knot in my stomach growing and I’m moments away from cumming with his name on my tongue.

“Rhys I’m gonna cum,” I warn him and I can see the muscle in his jaw flicker.

“Me too. Cum with me mate,” he grunts before flicking my clit. I crumble the moment he flicks the sensive bud.

“OH GOD RHYS!” I scream digging my nails into his back again.

“Oh fuck y/n,” he groans, hips stuttering as he spills his seed into me.

We’re a heap of sweat and ragged breaths as he keeps himself propped up as not to crush me. My hands smooth back his hair and I leave sweet kisses on his brow.

“I love you so much Rhys,” I whisper in his ear leaving a kiss there. I mean every word, my soul so full of love for him that tears prick my eyes.

“I love you too y/n.” he smiles, pressing our lips together.

He sits up pulling out of me and I feel a breath escape my lips, disappointed at the sudden emptiness. He sits on his knees and I watch as he stares between my legs. His eyes light up in amusement.

“What?�� I giggle sitting up a little on my arms.

“I’ve waited forever to have this view,” he smirks.

“What view?” I ask.

“You, naked, in my bed, with my cum dripping out of your pussy.” he muses, leaning over me again. “Totally and completely mine.” he smiles, kissing me again.

I hum in approval at his words and kiss him harder feeling his skin melt against mine. I try to pour every ounce of love I have into it. The way he kisses me has me seeing stars and I suddenly feel hot again, like I need more of him.

“Rhys I want more,” I say between kisses.

“I fuck you one time and you already want more?” he chuckles. “Don’t worry mate, I’m not done with you yet.”

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