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#i was bored so i made one of these please do it lol
sharpth1ng · 2 days
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Moder au stuilly. Do you think who is most likely to send nudes when the other one is at work/uni/friend meeting?
I think Stu would absolutely be like “babe I’m bored 🥺🙄” and then send the most unhinged photo you can imagine
Both of them do this, just for different reasons.
Stu does it in a pretty straightforward way. He wants attention, he wants Billy to come home and fuck him so he take a pic of himself naked with a knife to his throat. Or he does this unhinged thing I made a post about like a year ago:
Like dude will fully just send pictures of his hands in actual gore and it works.
The other version of this is like. He buys a strip of LED lights to put up behind their tv or something, then gets distracted unboxing them and decides to wrap them around his dick instead and Billy gets a pic of that in the middle of the day like "lol baby look he dressed up fancy for you".
Billy also does this for attention but in a different way. Stu isn't specifically trying to send Billy nudes when he's busy, sometimes he's probably trying to piss him off, but most of the time he just wants his boyfriend. Billy on the other hand, is calculated. Billy thinks "ok, he's got 6 hours left on an 8 hour shift, now is the time to send him a shower selfie." Or a picture of himself at the gym or a picture of him holding a weapon, it really doesn't take much to get Stu going, and once he's going he's blowing up Billy's phone. It's like:
*text notification sound* ESEJF'OIHP'EJIHGPEGHP
*text notification sound* BILLY PLEASE
*text notification sound* BABY im
*text notification sound* legit so hard my dick hurts
*text notification sound* fuck
*text notification sound* why would u do this to me
*text notification sound* (dont stop)
*text notification sound* dude would sell my own organs to get my hands on u rn
*text notification sound* FUCK
*text notification sound* Left work early see u in 30
Update: Also just so you know Stu takes a nude in chapter 3 WoM, you're welcome. I have also drawn that nude and I will post it on patreon when I have my shit set up.
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genshinimpactsideblog · 3 months
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i could do genshin filler events better than genshin can do genshin filler events
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aeyumicore · 2 months
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☾ .⭒˚ business trip ♡ zayne x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 6.7k (good lord)
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, tiny reference/spoiler to lore, explicit sexual content, pure pure filth, dubcon if you squint really really really hard, size kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral sex (f!receiving), lots of making out, finger fucking, tongue fucking, cum as lube, finger sucking, choking, slight inappropriate use of evol, slight use of y/n, dom!zayne
⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommending watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://youtu.be/JAQ22yAhnUI?si=bfOLaJ-byJMyT9Vn
☾ .⭒˚ a/n: as promised she is here! this is based of the five-star card ‘business trip.’ a lot of the initial dialogue is from that card's story, with some small changes. this contains very tiny spoilers/references to some of the lore (honestly not really, if you’re reading this you’re probably addicted to the game enough to know the reference).
this is my very first finished fan fic/smut! i’m used to writing research papers and lab reports, so i am still learning to write fiction/dialogue! please be kind :) also fun fact i was writing this in first person but then decided to switch to second person so if there’s any stray grammar errors i apologize lol search and replace is so wonky
if you can’t tell i am absolutely feral for zayne and need to thirst for him with fellow zayne simps. my dumbass cannot write porn without a shit ton of plot/feelings. hope you enjoy!!
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾
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people who didn’t know zayne would assume that he was a cold person, and you couldn't really blame them. as a world renowned cardiac surgeon, and the chief cardiac surgeon of a massive metropolitan hospital, he had become an expert at control, especially that of his emotions. he let the world know only what he wanted them to know, and he was extremely selective about who he let truly know him. 
having been zayne’s girlfriend for a few months now, you had the privilege of being on the receiving end of his rare affections. and while he was undeniably blunt and straightforward, you knew he was anything but cold. under the winter blizzard that was his exterior, zayne was warmer than the summer sun. 
but despite being intimately familiar with zayne’s affections, you couldn’t help but be disappointed when he picked you up from the train station returning home from your ten day mission. after months of dating, you were no stranger to the cardiac surgeon’s distaste of pda and need for professionalism, but after ten days apart you couldn’t help but be disheartened by his nonchalance when picking you up.
so when he put on a random movie and sat on your couch, you couldn’t help but pout and prop your knees up to your chest on the seat cushion next to him. 
“do you have a question for me, zayne?” you rested your head on your left hand that was leaning up on the sofa back. his face snapped to yours from the tv screen, eyes lighting up with amusement. they bore straight into your own, making you want to squirm in your seat. even without touching you, zayne was always able to make your blood heat and your skin singe. 
“what do you mean?” his tone held the faintest trace of humor and you had a feeling he knew exactly what you meant but wanted to hear you say the words. 
feeling emboldened by his teasing obliviousness, you deftly swung one of your legs over his lap, and effectively straddled him on the couch. his hands instinctively gravitated to gently rest on the plush of your hips. you squeaked in surprise at the feel of his ice cold hands against your exposed waist, your shirt having ridden up. you could feel the distinct outline of something you’d terribly missed on your time away, and it made you harshly bite your lip to suppress the sounds your body tried to force out of your mouth.
the corner of his lips raised at you, the faint ghost of a smirk gracing his face. he murmurs softly, his voice sending shivers straight down your spine while his fingers danced down with it, “how was your trip? was it okay?” 
still sulking, you whined, “not at first. after all, i could always see you whenever i wanted to.” your hands softly ran down the smooth fabric of his suit vest, drifting over his expensive tie, “then slowly i got used to it.” you shifted in his lap, intentionally grinding gently, hoping to provoke any sort of reaction from him. you needed him to be as affected by you as you were by him. 
“got used to being alone again? right?” besides his growing erection, he was as calm and collected as always. in your frustration at his nonchalance, you missed the little signs of zayne losing the tight grip he always had on his control. his grip tightening ever so slightly on your hips, the brief but sharp intake of his breath, his jaw slackening gently as he bit the inside of his cheek. 
exasperated, you climbed off his lap and settled back into your seat beside him. with zayne, it could often be difficult to tell when he was teasing or genuinely oblivious. and your own frustrations were clouding your perception to any of the little indicators that he was anything but in complete control of the situation.
“sure, but it’s not…” you trailed off feeling embarrassed, eyes falling to your hands on your lap. maybe you were being too needy? 
gripping your chin in his thumb and index finger, he lifted your head to meet his deep green eyes again, “indeed, it’ll become dull regardless.” the unmistakable sound of need in his voice as his piercing eyes locked yours in place was beginning to utterly derail your thoughts. 
you cover his eyes with both your hands, unable to stand his intense stare, “you’ve been staring at me.” 
“but i can’t see you like this,” the amusement in his voice is undeniable. 
“shhh. that’s the point.”
gently, he pries your hands off his face without much resistance, “let me see you.” his eyes once again found yours, holding bits of amusement, adoration, and hunger. you averted your eyes and childishly stuck your tongue out at him. 
“you wanted me to say something?” the teasing in his voice transparent as glass.
unable to contain yourself any longer, you whine, “why did you act so normally at the train station? i was disappointed.” craving his skin on yours, you reach your right hand out to gently brush your fingers over his lips. he wraps his much larger hand over yours and moves it to cup his cheek. turning his head ever so slightly, his lips ghost the inside of your palm with a delicate kiss. 
when he finally speaks, his voice has dropped to an octave that sends waves of pure primal pleasure coursing straight down to your core, “what did you want me to do in front of all those people?” 
biting back the shiver threatening to unleash through your body, you continue with your petulant ramblings, “we haven’t seen each other for a few days. didn’t you miss or worry about me?”
“the weather was nice there and you responded to all my text messages. so you must have been fine,” he gently plays with your hand, still enclosed in his. “now tell me, is there something you want to tell me?” 
you could tell zayne knew exactly what you wanted to say and what you wanted him to say. but ever the tease, he wanted you to say it aloud. 
“tell me what you want,” he’d always demand with his lengthy slender fingers stuffed deep inside you, thumb pressing harshly on your clit. forcing you to say the words. 
“i…missed you,” you confess through hooded eyelids, only daring to peer up at him through your eyelashes. your own daydreams were causing a dampening puddle to form at the apex of your legs which you squeezed shut tightly, embarrassed at how eager you were for him.
in a flash, his hand released yours to snatch the remote off the coffee table and shut the movie off, turning to face you again. his sudden movement snapped you out of your filthy reminiscing, “why did you turn off the tv?”
forcefully, he cups the back of your neck, entangling his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer until his face is a mere inch from yours, eyes glancing fleetingly to your lips. you could feel his minty breath against your lips and it made you unleash the uncontrollable shiver you’d been suppressing, “are we really here for a movie?” 
breathlessly and defiantly, you pushed him further, “isn’t that what you wanted?” your hands gripped his bicep, reveling in the taut bundle of muscles that you’d imagined far too many times on your trip, taking you so forcefully every night prior. 
“i’ve changed my mind now. is that okay?” and with that zayne closes the short distance between the two of you, capturing your lips with his. 
you couldn’t help but moan at the feel of his icy lips on yours after far too long, far too many lonely nights. he greedily swallowed it, hands moving to tangle deeper in your hair. zayne’s lips were always a pleasant blend of winter ice but also a home-like warmth, the feeling absolutely addicting. a feeling reserved just for you.
zayne pushed you down softly, until your back met the cushioned sofa. he parted your thighs and settled between them, hovering above you.
“such a brat. did you want me to take you like this in front of everyone at the station?” he murmured, hands leaving you to loosen his tie. the unbelievably erotic sight had your knees weakening, the dampness between your legs intensifying. they instinctively clenched at the feeling, which zayne noticed immediately, evident by his satisfied smirk.
“tell me how much you missed me,” he demanded softly and firmly as his hands found their way under your shirt, teasing the skin of your naval and dancing up just below the swell of your breasts. his cold touch pulled a needy whimper from you and your pelvis arched up seeking any kind of friction against his body. zaynes actions fried your brain, rendering it nearly impossible for you to process what he was asking of you.
suddenly his hands abandoned your chest and he raised his hips so your bodies no longer touched, to your dismay. the loss in friction had you whimpering pathetically for him. instead, his hand made its way to your mouth and his thumb pressed into the parting of your lips, “answer me.”
“wh-what? what did you ask?” you panted dumbly, tongue intentionally grazing his thumb and savoring the salty taste of his frosty skin. you could see his erection growing against the restraint of his slacks at the feel of your tongue eagerly tasting him. 
using his free hand, he ghosted it against your jeans covered cunt, just barely catching on your clit. squeezing your eyes shut, you gasped and hoped he couldn’t feel how embarrassingly wet you already were for him, despite him only just having touched you. his touch was light and fleeting, just enough to leave you starving for more. 
his thumb, still in your mouth, pressed down firmly on your tongue. this time, he asked more forcefully, “tell me how much you missed me baby.” his domineering attitude short circuited your brain and once again all you could do was moan and thrust into his hand. zayne, dissatisfied with your repeated lack of response, pinched your clit, roughly enough to snap you back into reality and leave you panting for more. the truth came tumbling out so fast you had no time to be ashamed at how desperate he’d made you.
“s’much, i missed you so much zaayne,” you slurred, unable to articulate your words through the lust, “thought ‘bout you ev’ry night.” you reached up to run your fingers through the dampening black bangs that rested against his eyes. “missed you s’much zayne. need you s’bad.” 
his gorgeous green eyes darkened and he shut them, “fuck.” 
satisfied with your begging, he bent down to capture your lips with his once more, pressing his erection against your heat, grinding torturously slowly. his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, demanding access to what was his. you happily granted him entrance, enjoying the feel of his tongue against yours. enjoying the taste of him so intimately close to you. 
he pulled away, groaning, “do you want to know why i acted so normally when i saw you at the train station?” you whined at him pulling away, having thoroughly gotten over your previous brattiness and just wanting nothing more than him to utterly devour you. you reached your hand up to cup his cheek again, trying to guide his lips back to yours and shut him up. you continued to grind into his erection, rutting needily into his crotch, completely and utterly desperate for him. you were at the point of no return, and not even your own embarrassingly unabashed horniness could shame you into stopping.
instead, he affectionately leans into your hand and shuts his eyes, like a cat purring into a palm. the pure adoration mixed with the fiery sexual tension enveloping the air surrounding you was absolutely suffocating. and you were positively addicted. 
he put his hand over yours, holding it lovingly against his cheek, “even in front of all those people, i knew once i saw you again–” he brought your joined palms to his lips and grazed a fleeting kiss against your skin, then released your hand.
continuing, “if i touched you again after all that time –” he bent down over you to gently graze his teeth against your racing pulse, suckling and nibbling carefully while his other hand cupped your sex again to which you eagerly ground into. his long slender fingers teased your slit, paying special attention to your aching clit.
he continued his ministrations on your pussy, his breathy rasps right next to your ear,  “i knew i wouldn’t be able to stop.” 
his words snapped the coil that had been building in your core from the moment your eyes landed at him at the train station. you whined as your thighs trembled to a halt against his fingers. the culmination of it all, missing him terribly for ten days, the feel of his perfect body pressed against yours, the incessant teasing, but especially his confession, led to your quick unraveling. covering your eyes in sheer embarrassment, you came against his hand, still completely dressed. 
zayne peered down at his soaked hand, voice low, vaguely amused, and unbelievably turned on, “did you just cum, love?” 
embarrassed, hands still covering your reddening face, you wailed, “y-yes..i’m sorry!” 
“don’t hide from me y/n,” his fingers, covered in your slick, pried your hands away from your eyes. “did my little brat miss me that much? she’s so eager for me she came just from humping my hand huh?” 
you nodded enthusiastically, despite the sheer embarrassment, determined to please the man before you, “missed you more than anything. needed you s’bad. haven’t felt you inside me in s’long.” he swore lowly under his breath, barely audible, his control slipping. 
“i’m sorry for not behaving the way you expected at the train station, my love,” he rose away from you, undoing his loosened tie. “let me show you how much i missed you.” his words unleashed butterflies in your stomach as you watched him shed his clothing, layer by layer. zayne was truly something sculpted out of legends. as his long fingers expertly unbuttoned his white collared shirt you pressed your palm against his hard stomach and murmured, “wait let’s go to my bed.”
but he didn’t stop, instead arching his eyebrow at you, “did you think i was joking?” 
your eyes snapped away from the contours of his abs leading to the dusting of his pubic hair, not at all able to follow what he was talking about. “s-sorry?”
he chuckled, finally shedding his expensive white shirt somewhere on your apartment floor. he crawled back to hover over you and deftly removed your bottoms and panties, then spreading your thighs apart and using his own leg to keep them propped open. 
“we’ve already started, and i won’t be able to stop any time soon.”
you shivered at his words and hooked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his. the kiss was bruisingly passionate and messy, his tongue exploring all the places he longed for the past week and a half. with one hand he gripped your hair, and with the other he skillfully unhooked your bra and caressed your nipple with his fingertips. you whimpered into his mouth as he played with your body in ways only he knew would have you completely ruined. wanting to please him too, you reached your hand down to release his cock from its confines and grasp it in your hand. it stood completely rock hard against his naval, his prominent vein bulging and throbbing in your hand. because of zayne’s evol, he always ran very cold. his skin was often icy to the touch, but his manhood always burned your palms, blazing so deliciously hot. 
you held it tight in your hand, jerking up and down gently but forcefully. teasing the underside of the head with your thumb, you briefly panicked at how he would fit inside you after so many days not being stretched to accommodate him. his manhood was like him in every way: intimidating, imposing, and glorious. 
zayne pulled away from your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck and biting into the soft skin there. the most erotic groans spilled out of his lips against you, but his hand gripped your fist halting your movements. through gritted teeth, he seethed, “stop.” 
scared you’d hurt him, you instantly snatched your hand away. he noticed the guilt on your face and half-smiled reassuringly, “i was about to finish all over your pretty little stomach from just your hands. this is how much i’ve missed you.” the more he spoke, the more your next orgasm was building, your body aching for his with every filthy word he uttered. 
his hands gripped the small of your back and lifted you slightly, giving him access to remove your top and unlatched bra. his eyes hungrily roamed all over your body until they settled on your eyes, “you are the most beautiful thing i will ever set eyes on, in all my lives.” 
your head tilted, intrigued by his choice of words, “all your lives? have you discovered the secret of reincarnation, dr. zayne?.” zayne chuckled, but did not respond, instead kneeling completely naked and god-like before you and you couldn’t help but beg, “p-please zayne.” 
he smirked, confident as ever, hands reaching down to ghost right above your pussy, hovering so close but not touching, “please what, baby? use your words, you can do that for me, right?'” 
you bit your lip, trying to grind your crotch into his hand, whining when he shifted to dodge your advances. 
“tell me what you want.” 
unable to take the teasing any further, “p-please jus’ touch me, anything, please.” 
“my girl is so damn needy.” finally he sets his fingers against your soaking slit, slipping his lengthy middle finger in. throwing your head back, you moaned arching your back off the couch, rutting into his digit. 
“so desperate for me,” he practically purred, pumping his single finger in and out, “did you have to use your own fingers when you were away?” 
“y-yess thought of you every time,” you moaned, “p-please, more.” you shrieked in pure ecstasy as you felt his lips find your sensitive nipple while simultaneously inserting his index finger. 
zayne has always been hyper fixated on your breasts. the way the skin pebbled under his touch, the way the plush fat felt underneath the massage of his palms, but mostly the way you writhed under the lathering of his tongue. while his fingers forked in and out of you, his tongue swirled dizzying circles around the peak of your breasts. he nibbles, gentle but still enough to make you yelp. you can feel his smile against your skin as he suckles soothingly. he alternates between the two, never wanting to leave the other one neglected. your pleasure is the most important thing to him, a job he takes seriously. only when you’re a squirming whimpering mess does he feel satisfied. 
pleased with his work, he detached from your chest, trailing down further. he leaves a path of kisses down your torso until he finds himself facing his main course. as he admires your throbbing cunt, his fingers still scissoring in and out of it, his tongue swipes against his lips. the hunger in his eyes is evident, as if pondering all the different ways he could devour you. finally, he graces your pussy with his attentive lips, wrapping around your clit and just barely grazing with his teeth. 
zayne ate like a man positively starved, his tongue working magic on your body. he suckled diligently on the bud, making the filthiest slurping noises. your toes curled, resting on his broad hard shoulders, and your thighs clenched around his jaw. with his free hand, he sought your nipple out, pinching gently against the pebbled skin, ravishing absolutely every inch of your body. he shifted downwards until his tongue was inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit delivering such relentless mind-numbing pleasure. his tongue fucked you earnestly and through the blood pounding in your ears you could hear him moaning at the taste of your juices, dripping down his chin. 
zayne inserts his fingers again, tongue going back to lap diligently at your clit, “you can take another one cant you?” he grunted against your most sensitive region, his breath a warm caress. 
you sat up weakly on your elbows, absolutely winded from the blinding pleasure but determined to keep up with him, “i can! i can!” 
“that’s my girl.” he inserts another finger, stuffing you completely full. moaning unabashedly, you latched onto his hair and fucked yourself onto his fingers. “you taste so fucking good. couldn’t stop thinking about you, spread out for just me, while you were gone.” his filthy words went straight to your core and you felt your next orgasm building at an alarming rate. 
“zayne zayne zayne,” you chanted, completely fucked out, “please d-don’ stop.” his fingers quickened inside you, the lewd wet sounds of his fingers pounding against your skin filling the room. while keeping himself buried inside you, he shifted on top of you until his face was right in front of yours, eyes gazing into you deeply. zayne crashed his lips onto yours once more, forcing his tongue in, claiming every part of you. not that you objected at all. 
his kiss was so unbelievably filled with need, showing you just how much he had missed you. his entire mouth tasted of you, lips so wet from a mix of your spend and his saliva. the passion of it all was enough to send you reeling towards your second orgasm. nails digging into his bicep, you tried to warn him that you were just about to come undone all over his hand. with his three fingers stuffed in you, he used his thumb to rub harsh circles on your clit, sending you reeling over the cliff of pleasure
“that’s it, juust like that baby. cum for me,” he cooed. you were a babbling slurring mess as you trembled on his fingers, releasing all over his hand. he continued to gently pump in and out of you, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. you fought to stay conscious as the overwhelming pleasure of two climaxes bled into the sting of overstimulation. 
weakly swatting at his hand still inside your puffy cunt, “s’too much zayne. s’too sensitive.” he finally removed his hand, the sudden emptiness drawing a gasp from your lips. zayne brought his absolutely drenched fingers to his mouth, devouring your slick off of them.
“absolutely perfect,” he groaned, removing them and gripping the underside of your thighs. in one swift motion he pulled hard and had you pushed up against his own body, your rear end elevated to brush right up against his hard body, his unbelievably erect cock.
tapping his member against your sopping cunt he gave you a lopsided smile, “you still with me love?” 
you sat up, unable to take your eyes off of where zayne’s body would connect with yours. following your eyes, he takes his manhood in his hand and teases it up and down, “i expect an answer when i speak to you y/n.”
your mind was mush and your body was still staggering from the sheer amount of pleasure zayne had just given you, but you knew you needed more. you needed him and you needed him inside you. 
peering into his eyes from underneath your eyelashes, you mewled, “z-zaayne. i need you. i can’t wait any more” 
he swore under his breath, his voice a deep sensual rasp, “so damn eager for me. don’t worry, you will have me, many many times tonight.” you shivered at his words, a hard and fast promise, as he lined up his cock with your entrance. 
“two of ten,” he muttered under his breath, teasing his head against your clit, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably as he smeared your combined arousals all over your cunt, better than any medical grade lube. zayne always had so much pre cum from edging himself, always putting your pleasure above anything else, before himself.
“ten what?”
a heart stopping cocky smirk graced his beautiful pale face, “you’ve been gone for ten days. i fully intend to make up for every single day tonight.” the full weight of what he was implying clicked and your eyes widened.
“th-there’s no way!” 
“isn’t this what you wanted? for me to show you how much i missed you?” he gave your pussy one last stern tap with his length, evoking a squeal from your lips as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut in anticipation. 
“i told you once i started i wouldn’t be able to stop.” and without waiting for you to protest further, zayne softly breached into your warm and waiting hole. you moaned in surprise at the massive stretch. the only reason he could enter you at all was because he had thoroughly prepped you with the two previous orgasms. the pain ebbed pleasure was undeniable as zayne stretched your body to the max. when you looked to see where his body was joined with yours, you gaped. he’d only managed to get his tip in. 
zayne fell forward slightly, gripping the underside of your thighs with a bruising intensity. his jaw was locked and he panted out, “please love, relax. relax for me. you’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”
“i’m tryin’, jus’ so big,” you whined, hands finding purchase in his soft hair. you took a deep breath, trying to loosen up, staring into his smoldering eyes while he pushed further into your guts.
“that’s it, such a good little slut for me. always so obedient,” he cooed, slowly but surely seating himself fully in your cunt. after ten days without him inside, it felt like losing your virginity all over again. but every single word he muttered went straight to the wet mess in between your joined bodies, helping to overcome the resistance.
the initial pace he set was torturously slow and passionate, his eyes only leaving yours when he threw his head back to groan deeply, as if unable to contain himself while he was inside you. any inklings of pain quickly dissolved into pure pleasure as his thick length burrowed deep inside. you watched zayne bask in the unstoppable stream of sounds that escaped your mouth, his body always taking yours in the most delicious ways. any embarrassment you previously felt went out the window as you made the most lewd and filthy cries for him. 
hooking your legs around his waist, you felt him brush against your cervix with his tip and realized even fully buried inside you, zayne’s length was not completely burrowed in your pussy. the sheer size of him made you clench around his thrusts, throbbing in ecstasy as he ravished your body. 
“so damn tight,” he groaned, the pace and force of his thrusts increasing, “gonna have to stretch you back out tonight, all night.” his thumb rubbed figure eights around your clit while you held onto your breasts for support as they bounced wildly from the growing intensity of his movements. the sight seemed to please him as he grunted and reached one of his hands to release your thigh and take a breast into his own hand, teasing the nipple between his finger tips. 
somehow even in your utterly fucked out state you were able able to moan out, “s’deep s’deep sooo good. please don’t stop. missed this s’much.”
the hand on your breast ventured upwards to gently close around your throat, with just enough pressure to leave you gasping in bliss, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. his fingers pressed into your pulse, “taking me so well. this pussy was made for me, huh?”
a stray tear of pure pleasure slipped from your eyes. zayne released your neck and swipes his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the fallen tear, “answer me y/n. who does this pussy belong to?”
“b-belongs t’you zayne,” you slurred, “allll yours, always.”
pleased, zayne folds your thighs into your chest, until your knees are nearly touching your breasts. planting one foot on the seat of the couch, he begins thrusting with an entirely new vigor. the new angle allows him even deeper, cock brushing against all your deepest, favorite places. drool dribbled from the side of your mouth as you cried out repeatedly in pleasure. his body was so satisfyingly heavy, imposing, and large against yours, a stark reminder of the sheer size difference between you. 
he shoved his hand between your two bodies to rest on your stomach, pressing down, “can you feel how deep i am love? can you feel me here?”
frankly, you could feel him in your damn throat, “y-yes zayne, feel it s’deep. makin’ me feel so goood. please don’t stop.”
“don’t worry, don’t plan on ever stopping.” his promises drove you ever so close to your climax. you moaned, back arching off the couch so sharply that you were almost levitating. zayne took this opportunity to wrap his two large hands around your waist, hoisting you off the couch leaving you squealing as he picked you up like a rag doll, seating you back on his lap, a mixture of your arousals moistening your thighs. his cock sat tall against your stomach and you longed to be stuffed again.
“look at the mess you made,” he murmured, eyes trailing to the space you sat completely exposed on him. with one palm gripping your ass, he slid his other between you to collect your collective slick on his fingers and shove it gently back into you. you yelped but took this opportunity to lift yourself onto your knees and take his cock into your hands. zayne watched you with amused eyes allowing you to take control, if only for a brief moment, before regaining it. a creature of habit, zayne loved control. in the hospital, the operating room, and especially in the bedroom. or well the living room. 
you impaled yourself on his length once more, a gasping and groaning mess every inch of the way. he kneaded the plush of your ass adoringly, trying to soothe the pain from the stretch. in this position, zayne reached the deepest inside you, literally rearranging your guts. using your fleeting strength, you began bouncing up and down on him, his strong hands on your rear guiding you along, but letting you do the work. the corner of his lips were slightly quirked up as he watched you struggle to keep up any semblance of rhythm or pace.
“does my needy girl need my assistance?” 
determined to wipe the smug smirk off his unfairly handsome face, you shook your head vehemently and only rode him more vigorously. but as his cock continued to spear in and out of you, the overwhelming pleasure in your gut and the burning in your thighs took hold and your knees gave out. you slumped your head breathlessly against his hard chest, as he chuckled and planted a kiss against the top of your head. 
“don’t worry sweetheart, i’ve got you. let me take care of you.” with the help of his strong hands, he bounced you on his lap. his large muscular thighs flexed underneath you as your eyes rolled back. hours upon hours of surgeries honed zayne’s endurance and he bobbed you up and down like you weighed nothing at all. sitting on his lap like this, your abdomen was pushed right against his, your clit rubbing along his pelvis and your nipples dragged along his chest with each sinful thrust. 
“eyes on me,” he commanded, his grip on your ass tightening enough to leave marks. in your fucked out state you force your eyes to focus on his, as his cock continues to deliver you unimaginable pleasure. with his eyes locked on yours, zayne lets out a deep breathy moan and murmurs, “i missed you so much y/n.”
your heart swells, your stomach clenches and you knew you loved this man. the butterflies in your stomach must have manifested in your pussy clenching around zayne’s shaft, hard. he hisses, but before he can speak you take his face in both your hands and press your mouth to his, swallowing his moans.
the feel of his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth pushes you towards your third orgasm. your lips separate, a string of drool connecting them still, as zayne hammers into you. you drape your arms over his shoulders, clinging on while he pounds into your abused hole. your clit continues to brush against his slick soaked pubic hair and has you seeing actual stars. 
he bent down to capture your nipple with his mouth, absolutely devouring it. squealing, you arched into his mouth as your fingers clawed deep welts into his back while he ravished your breasts. he continued to bounce you on his lap, pace never faltering.
“m’close,” you warn over the erotic wet ‘pap pap pap’ sounds between you, “g’nna cum soon.”
“yeah? cum on me baby. need to feel you all over my cock,” his thrusts continue to hit your sweet spot and you feel as if you’re about to explode. at his command, you barrelled through your orgasm, digging your nails into his toned back. the pleasure was immeasurable as it coursed through every centimeter of your body. your head felt dizzy, toes curled, fingers clenched, nipples hardened further against him, and every nerve in your body sang for him. you wailed as he helped you ride out your orgasm, prolonging it as long as possible, still chasing his own pleasure. 
“that’s it love. make a mess all over me,” the over stimulation was starting to kick in again as zayne’s thighs and hands continued to rock you on his cock. 
“p-perfect, you’re so fucking perfect. do you know how many times i fucked my fist, thinking of this, while you were gone?” zayne was babbling now, and his cock was twitching persistently inside you. you could tell he was going to cum soon too. you held on for dear life as you willed yourself to withstand the overstimulation, wanting zayne to find release with you. it slowly ebbed into an addicting painful pleasure, making you uncontrollably squeeze your aching cunt around his throbbing cock. 
“f-fuck squeezing the soul out of me. i’m gonna cum,” he groaned into the crook of your neck.
“cum for me zayne i wan’ it so so bad you n-need it please. need your cum so bad,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut feeling another orgasm approaching so so unbelievably fast.
just like he had before, he gripped your chin with one of his hands, “look at me. i need to see you when i cum.” you forced your eyes open and watched as he stared at you with such intense lust, need, and love.
“where do you want me?” he grunted, his thrusts stumbling and you could tell he was finally at the precipice of his own orgasm.
“i-inside please cum inside me zaayne, i need you s’bad. need t’feel it deep,” you sobbed, your cunt tightening around him as you were about cum again. 
“you want me to fill you up baby? stuff you full of my cum? what if i get you pregnant?” you clenched in excitement at the vague warning of his words. without fail, zayne noticed. 
“my girl likes that idea huh? want me to breed this pretty little cunt? put my baby in you?” he was practically rabid now, the force of his bouncing rattling your brain, his words turning your body into putty in his hands. tears of overwhelming pleasure filled your eyes at his filthy promises and you could only peer at him through your wet eyelashes and nod eagerly, with your tongue almost lolling out of your mouth.
zayne cursed under his breath at the look you were giving him. he knew he could never deny you, not that he’d wanted to, especially not when you looked at him like that. he would spend his entire life, every one of his lives, loving you, taking care of you, protecting you, pleasuring you, if you’d allow him. 
as he watched the drool dribble down your chin, he thrust one last time, the brute force of it dragging the orgasm out of you while he spurted his release deep inside your womb. you were screaming, crying as the intensity of your last three orgasms made your body even more reactive to his cum painting your walls white. the culmination of it all had you squirting all over your joined laps. 
zayne watched in awe as you made an utter mess on his lap, his grip on your hips tightened and an icy frost formed on the top of your soft skin, under his palms. the alarming cold only served to increase the ecstasy of your climax. he didn’t seem to notice as the beautiful snowflake etched frost danced up your waist. yet you felt anything but cold as his hands held you against him. 
the aftershocks of your final orgasm caused your pussy to continue to throb around him, milking anything he had left. zayne was a moaning and panting mess when he finally noticed that he was losing control of his evol, the glimmering crystals weaving up higher up your sides. 
“shit, i’m sorry love,” he swore, pulling his hands away. you whimpered, not caring in the slightest, just wanting his touch back as you slumped against his hard chest, panting for air, body completely and thoroughly ruined. he took deep breaths to regain control of his evol, watching the iridescent flakes on your waist melt away as quickly as they’d come. as they faded completely, you shivered against him, cunt still quivering around him, draining every last drop of his seed into you. zayne wrapped his strong arms around you, cradling you gently, making sure his evol was properly contained before relaxing into your delicate body. 
you must have drifted off briefly because the next thing you knew zayne was placing you gently on your plush bed sheets, the sweat and slick cleaned off your skin. despite the brutal pounding your pussy had taken, you could hardly feel any soreness. no doubt thanks to zayne’s tendencies to care for you like a little injured duckling, even outside of the hospital. 
“you’re the best primary care provider, dr. zayne,” you murmured happily, nuzzling into his strong forearm, as he set you down on the bed. he chuckled, sounding not the least bit tired, sitting down on the empty space beside you. 
“at home, you take care of me. at the hospital, you take care of me. how’d i get so luck to have a doctor like you?,” you rambled, utterly content. he continued to laugh, leaning over so he could stroke slow soothing circles on your naked stomach. 
“i will always take care of you,” his gleaming green eyes beam at you, while the rest of his face remains calm, collected. and then he slowly smirks, “especially in the bedroom.” 
you blush furiously, your thighs clenching together again, his eyes never leaving yours. the circles he rubs into your skin inch slowly up, up, up until they’re caressing your breasts, again.
“zaayne, there’s no way,” you whine, your thighs trembling at the sight of heat returning to his eyes. but despite your protests your core quivers in anticipation and you can't bring yourself to swat his hands away. he slowly crawls on your bed, into, in his opinion, his rightful place between your legs. 
“we’re only 40% of the way done love, and as a surgeon i must always complete what i start,” he murmurs mischievously, hands gripping your knees, prying apart gently, slowly. 
“y-you can’t be serious!”
“please? i missed you, y/n.” 
feeling how your body reacted so eagerly to those three words, the words you wanted to hear him say so desperately at the train station, you knew you were in for a very long night. 
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
tag list: @bitchykittenconnoisseur
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the-merry-otter · 1 year
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If you’re on mobile, you may have to click on the images for better quality!
Plain text version with image descriptions is under the cut.
Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.
[Plain text description:]
First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing
This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr
ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!
Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.
[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]
[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]
Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)
Now with nasty pocketses
[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]
So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.
[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]
There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!
[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]
There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.
[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]
Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.
[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]
[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]
Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)
Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.
(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)
[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]
Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).
[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]
[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]
The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.
[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]
Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.
[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].
Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo
[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]
You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.
As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.
[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].
Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.
[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]
A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.
Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.
[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].
Fifth slide: Hair and headwear
Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.
Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.
[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]
[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]
All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.
[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]
I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.
[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].
[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]
Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?
[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].
Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.
[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]
Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods
These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).
Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.
They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.
[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].
[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]
[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].
Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.
Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.
[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]
Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.
Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)
Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.
[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]
Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!
Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!
Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.
[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].
Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.
[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].
[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]
Eighth slide: Accessories
These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.
Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.
[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].
Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.
[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].
They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.
[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].
Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.
[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]
Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.
[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]
Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.
[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]
Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy
There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).
Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.
[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]
[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].
Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.
[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]
Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.
[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].
Brocade gowns! So pretty!
[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]
Fancy sleeves!
[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].
Dresses that were two different colours.
[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]
And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.
[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].
[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].
Tenth (and final) slide: In summery
(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).
Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.
Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.
If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.
If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️
[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]
A list of helpful YouTubers:
Elin Abrahamsson
Morgan Donner
Opus Elenae
Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).
Now go hydrate!!
[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]
18K notes · View notes
heesdreamer · 8 months
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Forgotten Consequences
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)
SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences
WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive
WC ➩ 5.7k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece
“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”
You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.
Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.
“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.
Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.
He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.
It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.
Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.
He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.
You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.
When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.
A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.
They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.
But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.
You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.
“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.
You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.
“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.
You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.
“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.
Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.
“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”
You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.
You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.
He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.
Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.
“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.
You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.
He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.
His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.
“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.
He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.
It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.
“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”
Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.
It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.
“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.
You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.
He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.
It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.
“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.
Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.
He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.
It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.
Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.
“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.
His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.
“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”
You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.
He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.
“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.
“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.
“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.
You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.
“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”
He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.
Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.
He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.
“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”
You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”
His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.
“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”
“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”
He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.
It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.
Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.
“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.
“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.
You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.
“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”
You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.
It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.
“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.
His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.
“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”
You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.
He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.
“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”
Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.
“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.
“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”
“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”
You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.
You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.
“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.
“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.
He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.
Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.
“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”
“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”
You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.
He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.
“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”
You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.
“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.
He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.
The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.
You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.
He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.
“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.
“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.
You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.
He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.
“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”
You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.
He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.
It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.
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neuvistar · 2 months
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AN ANGEL’S GIFT.
— featuring ┊sunday x fem!reader
— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! not proofread, cunnilingus, he plays w ur tits lol (t!tplay), established relationship, use of nicknames, mentions of breeding wooopeee (not rlly tbh its jus him yapping abt angel babies) a lil rushed but it’s okay! pt 2 will be out when i’m not lazy :3 | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
— a/n ┊this might b a bit messy sincd it’s VERY late n i’m half asleep but i’ll correct things tmr! sunday has been on my mind 24/7 all day all night all morning it’s actually insanity.. sunday <33 tbh giys this doesn’t rlly have a specific theme.. it’s jus sunday eating u out n yapping abt giving u angel babies… instead of leaving n doing boring work business LMAO (the pt 2 will have more guys trust i’m jus a tad bit lazy..)
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“m—more sunday..”
the two of you spent a cherished night together in the hours before his impending departure to meet and discuss matters with the members of the IPC, catching news of them arriving to penacony a few days prior. in all honesty, you wanted this to last as long as it can.. you missed sunday’s touched, and he missed yours. as sunday caressed and kissed your body, your soft squirms and moans filled him with a pleasant sensation of affection for you. the halovian savored the moment as much as he could, cherishing every last bit of intimacy and closeness between the two of you. “you’ve always impressed me, my angel. it brings me pure joy hearing all sorts of sounds leaving your pretty lips.” soft moans that escaped your lips and the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair stirred up a pleasant sensation within him. even the sight of you wrapped up in his arms, his lips kissing your sensitive skin as your body writhes in pleasure, it made him feel the immense satisfaction and fondness between you two. even that, your presence itself brought sunday immense joy, and he made sure to relish every single moment together with you.
"please... don't stop..." your voice cracked slightly, betraying your own need. a chuckle rumbled from your husband’s throat as he leaned in closer. sunday grabbed hold of the hem of your shirt. with one powerful yank, it ripped clean off your body, revealing your lacy bra underneath. you gasped in surprise, your breasts jiggling slightly as they were exposed to his hungry gaze.. he could feel his cock throbbed even harder, practically leaping out of his pants at the sight of your firm breasts.
"so beautiful, my girl.” trailing his tongue along your collarbone, stopping just short of your neck. sunday’s hands moved downwards, roughly palming your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra.. aeons, they were soft and supple just like be remembered, heavy with anticipation. “it would be such a wonderful sight see these pretty things leak with milk don’t you think, sweetheart?” with a chuckle of desire, he ripped the bra apart as well, freeing your breasts from their restrictive confines. “think about it, my angel,” he pinched your nipples, earning another sharp gasp from you. “imagine.. your belly round and full with my heirs, your breasts heavy with their milk.”
his hot breath fanning over your sensitive nipples caught you by surprise, his talented tongue traced slow, teasing circles around your nipple, closing his lips around it as he sucked greedily. sunday’s tongue flicked and swirled around the sensitive tip, tasting your flesh.. breathing in your aroma, that same aroma that drove him to the edge. “talk to me, baby. what do you say? do you like the idea of that.. hm?” his hands roamed downward, lifting your skirt and pushing your panties aside in one swift motion, exposing your pussy to his hungry gaze.
“hng.. i mean, i’m not against the idea.. it’s just that..” you lost your composure completely when sunday went even lower down to your region, his tongue darted in and out of your folds unexpectedly. “ah.. hey! aren’t you supposed to be meeting with the IPC—“
“shush baby, work can wait.” sunday could feel your arousal building up, your body arched slightly as he continued his brutal attack on your sensitive cunt. his large hands and held your legs wide open, giving him full access to his feast as the wings that protruded from each side of his head tickled your skin. his tongue probed deeper, finding your core and teasing it with quick flicks. you were so vulnerable under him, and it turned him on even more. "i’ll make sure to take good care of you, but remember who's in charge here.. just enjoy my tongue. you should be grateful i’m here giving you attention you wanted for days rather than talking with them.”
your husband’s tongue flickered against your cunt once more, causing you to arch your back slightly. sunday was relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, determined to make you feel good. "you’re so fucking small, angel.. it’s driving me insane." sunday’s voice was muffled by your flesh, he could feel the adrenaline coursing through your body every time his tongue explored every inch of her. "so innocent, yet so brave... fascinating." feeling your warmth envelop his face was like heaven to him, he wanted nothing more than to show you just how much he loved moments like these. the halovian reached up and grabbed your hips, guiding your movements against his face. goodness.. it was like he wanted you to suffocate him. “a place filled with life and chaos... much like your body." he licked and sucked at your folds, the rough muscle of his wetness swirling around your clit , his nostrils breathing in the scent of your arousal.
“to feel my tongue fucking and sucking this perfect little cunt.. this is truly an angel’s gift is it not, my wife?”
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starstruckmiraclekitty · 11 months
Note
Hi lovely! I know your plate is super full so please don't stress about getting to this request or even fulfilling it if you don't want to! If you feel like it, may I request some HCs of any of the guys's reactions to you accidentally calling them "daddy" in bed?
Ahh yes! I've had a few requests for this one!🙈🩵 since I had a few I made it into little blurbs/ headcannons. Hope this is okay, feel like I've been losing my touch haha.
141 + König Where Reader Accidentally Calls Them "Daddy" In Bed
Warnings: awful smut (lol), spanking, p in v sex, swearing
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Is surprised when you call him that. He didn't expect it from you
Simon is usually fairly gentle with you during sex, but when he heard you call him that, man nearly went feral
Nearly cums when he hears it
Never really thought it would be something he'd have a kink for, but once he hears it come from you, he never wants to stop hearing it
Gets SUPER shy if you mention it to him outside of the bedroom
~~
"Please, don't stop, Daddy." You whined, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as Simon relentlessly pounded into you.
Your words ellicited a loud groan from Simon's lips, as his pace slowed. "What just did you call me?"
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment upon realizing what you'd just said. You quickly turned your gaze away from Simon, praying he'd just forget what happened and move on. He reached his hand out and grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Say it again."
You swallowed thickly as his eyes bore into yours. "Daddy."
Simon gave a grunt of approval, before pushing your legs forward slightly, giving him better access to your pussy. "You want Daddy to fuck this pussy?"
His words sent a flush of heat between your thighs, causing you to grow more wet by the second. He looked down between the two of you with a cocky smirk. "You must, this pussy is soaked. Ask me. Ask me to fuck you."
You gained a sudden surge of confidence as your facial features relaxed. "Fuck me, Daddy."
Simon made it his mission, after hearing those words, to make it so you couldn't walk the next morning.
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König-
This poor baby is BEET RED
Honestly, didn't know how to react. He didn't know if he'd heard you correctly
Is adorably awkward when it's confirmed that you did in fact call him daddy
Will shyly ask you to repeat it
Honestly? Will think about it for DAYS afterward
~~
"Fuck, s-so good, daddy." You panted, as your legs squeezed around Königs waist while he fucked you senseless.
His thrusts halted at your words, his face turning red. "W-what?"
You were too fucked out to realize what you had said, so your brows furrowed in confusion at the look on his face. "What?"
"You...called me... daddy?" He mumbled out, his face turning downward in shame.
A light pink dusting lined your cheeks as you realized what you'd said. You took in the stunned look on Königs face before speaking. "I.. I'm so sorry if that made you uncomfortable."
He shook his head regarding you with a soft smile before leaning down and taking your earlobe in between his teeth. "Don't apologize, Maus."
He began to move his hips again, your velvety walls hugging his cock with every thrust. You let out a load moan as your hands flew to his back, your nails raking in the flesh. "Fuck."
"Could you...could you maybe call me that again, Schatz?"
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John Price (aka Daddy Price)
Let's be real. This man probably tells you to call him daddy in bed from the beginning
He will expect to be called it from then on during sex
It strokes his ego when you do. He fucking loves it
~~
If you don't... be prepared. Price doesn't tolerate brattiness
Sex can go from soft and sensual, to hard-core fucking in a split second if you call him daddy
"Harder, daddy, please!" You begged, gripping the sheets in front of you, as John picked up his pace from behind.
You heard a dark chuckle emit from his lips as a harsh smack landed on your ass cheek. "That's right, baby. I'm Daddy."
He gave a load groan as your walls clenched down on him from the impact of the slap, his hands flying to the flesh of your ass, roughly grasping at the flesh there, causing you to moan.
"You close, baby? You're squeezing me real tight. Does calling me Daddy get you off?" He asked, his hips jutting into you at an unruly pace. "Do you want Daddy to make you cum?"
"Yes! Please! Please I wanna cum." You begged, as sweat began to form on your brow.
"Say it again. Call me Daddy, and ask me to make you cum." He grunted, as he felt his high nearing closer.
"P-please, Daddy, make me cum!" You screamed out as he continued to pound into you relentlessly.
And boy, did he ever.
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Definitely will tease you about it
Won't admit to you that he almost came when you called him that
This man FOR SURE watched "Daddy" porn when he was single
May end up calling you mommy as a joke, but he ends up secretly developing a mommy kink from it
One day asks if he can record you saying it...for research purposes...
~~
"God you fuck me so good, Daddy." You gasped, as Johnny assaulted your pussy with his thick cock. The rough snapping of his hips stuttered slightly upon hearing your words.
"Daddy, huh? Didn't know you were into that, baby." He chuckled as he quickly returned to the pace he set before.
You were too far gone to listen, as you blindly reached out for Johnny, your hands finding solace on his shoulders.
"What, nothin to say now? I quite liked the sound of that. Maybe I'll start you calling Mommy." Your walls clenched tighter around him at his words, causing him to moan loudly. "Fucking hell. Do you like that?"
He looked down in between the two of you, nearly cumming at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock whole.
"You're taking me so well, Mommy." He teased as he pushed your legs further down, so they were now touching the sides of your head, giving him better access to your cunt. "This pussy is so good."
You let out a squeak as you slapped at his chest playfully. "J-Johnny! N-not funny."
"Actually, it's Daddy, sweetheart. Not Johnny."
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
Definitely catches him off guard, he goes a little red when he realizes what you said
He's never once been called that in bed, so not initially sure how to respond
He's had fantasies about it before never had the guts to let it play out during sex
Is definitely the type to never talk about the kink outside of the bedroom. He gets too embarrassed, but in the bedroom? Hello Daddy Kyle.
~~
"Faster, Daddy, please. I'm so close." You moaned as Kyle thrusted up into you against the cold shower tiles.
It took everything in him to not cum in that moment, as your words sent heat straight to his cock. His grip on your hips tightened as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, groaning as the hot water sprayed on his back.
"Didn't know you were into that sort of kink, babe." He breathed in your ear, biting at the skin below it softly. You let out a moan as he continued his ruthless pace, your orgasm nearing rapidly.
Kyle was close to his own high, as he snaked his hand to your front to toy with your clit. "You going to be good, and cum for me?"
You let out a whimper, nodding as your orgasm washed through you, causing your walls to squeeze his cock tightly. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before emptying himself inside you, as he pressed a longing kiss to your lips.
"That's it. You did good for Daddy."
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A/N: OMG I hate this sm😭😭😭😭
3K notes · View notes
livingemkayde · 9 months
Text
waterfront
neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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Warnings: Rated 18+. CONSIDER THIS YOUR FUCKING COMMUNITY LABEL LOL. Minors please dni. Smut. unprotected p in v. age gap. Pet names. Dirty talk. Dom!joel. Oblivious ass reader's dad. Not proof read one bit (per usual). 
a/n: thank you so much for the recent love. you guys are honestly so funny - COMMENT ASK REQUEST PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME IM SO LONELY ON HERE. this lil mini series has really pushed me to write despite some…things (and by things—i actually have been getting a shit ton of hate on my din fic for some weird reason?? so im really happy this dbf corner of tumblr is very accepting cuz that was really making me feel…SAD LMFAO). also do you guys picture joel in this fic as game joel or hbo joel - i wanna know. please enjoy this token of my gratitude as always. 
wc: 4.5k
this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:
part i part ii
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars.  “That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 
“Sweetie? Have you seen the sunblock?” 
“Yeah dad, in the back bathroom!” you yell back from your room. 
It’s honestly unbelievable. 
Packing. 
You’re packing. 
For a weekend getaway at some beach house property one of Joel’s client’s offered him for the weekend.
Joel’s client. 
Joel Miller.
Who got down on his knees for you at your graduation barbecue. Who fingered you in the front seat of his pick-up truck when your dad was looking for you. 
Who refused to talk to you after that. Not like you were trying anyways. This had to stop. Especially since you and Liam have been talking more and he’s…nice. Boring—sure. But he’s what’s good for you. 
He even got you a job at some hardware store on the other side of town. 
Liam was keeping you company—no—keeping you busy. But not enough to stop the incessant thoughts of your middle aged neighbor who is—even worse—probably your dad’s only close friend. 
You tried to keep your distance. For your sake and Joel’s. You don’t want to know what’s going on in his mind anymore. All you know is he continually runs laps around yours. 
You can’t shake how he looked at the barbecue. How the sea of people parted for him like he was Moses, greeting him with strong handshakes and acrylic nails wrapping around his bicep. But even worse, you can’t stop thinking about how through all those people—he found your eyes first. 
You tried to convince yourself that maybe Joel was thinking the same thing you were. That this—whatever it is—was actually fucking ridiculous and had to stop. 
Because it did have to stop. But it never felt ridiculous to you, as much as you will yourself to believe. 
You tried to convince yourself that much when your hand was down your pants in the middle of the night. Something sounding a lot like Joel’s name on the tip of your tongue as you made yourself come. 
You aren’t sure if your dad has seen much of him either—saying something about how he was booked through the fourth of July weekend with a huge project he was working on with his brother. 
That’s why you were shocked when your dad came up to your room with a grin explaining he counted you in on the weekend getaway with Joel, Sarah, and the two of you. 
You were excited to see more of Sarah — she had really grown up in the time you were away. But with Sarah comes Joel, and you aren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were from anxiety or anticipation at that thought. 
A half a day after your dad told you to get packing, you’re in the backseat of Joel’s truck, Sarah at your side, while she talks everyone's ear off about something. You aren’t really paying attention because Joel can’t stop stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror—and let's be honest. You can’t stop either. 
“—so then she said to me that it was my fault. I mean can you believe that?” Sarah slaps your arm gently while finishing her story. 
She looks around the car for approval and the dads just shrug their shoulders. You give her a sympathetic look. 
“Sorry Sarah, sounds crazy,” you say, grabbing her hand. You—honest to god—tried to pay attention but there were so many names thrown out you couldn’t keep up. It didn’t help that the man in the driver's seat kept you up at night—almost every night—since the barbecue. 
“I know! But then Jackson was like okay with it so whatever,” she gives you a knowing look, finishing her story—don’t say anything else because my dad’s here.
“Boys,” your dad murmurs to Joel under his breath, but you catch it. 
You also catch Joel shaking his head in response, letting out a huff and a—
“Tell me ‘bout it.” 
You meet his eye through the rear view mirror and drop his gaze quickly. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel. 
You think you’re almost off the hook and maybe can get some rest but Sarah lets out the first of many—
“Are we almost there yet?” 
Four more of those and you arrive at a secluded beach house on the coast. Joel pulls up to the back of the house, you can see the deck which leads down to the beach. Sarah and your dad hop out of the truck hastily—excited to see the house, and enter through the back door. It leaves you and Joel in the car together. Alone, for a few uncomfortable seconds until he finally speaks. 
“You alright?” 
It throws you for a loop. Joel Miller asking if you’re okay? You must be dying. You look at him through the mirror, an eyebrow raising. 
“‘M fine,” you reply back, monotone.
“Do you wanna talk?” 
Another surprise. 
“There’s nothing to talk about. You made that clear,” you huff, putting an emphasis on you so maybe he can start to feel an ounce of what you do. 
He gets out of the car but you don’t move from your position. Your dad and Sarah have disappeared into the house, undoubtedly claiming the best bedrooms and rifling through the owner’s things. 
He opens your door, his hand hanging off the top of it while his other braces himself on the car near your head. He dips his head closer to you, taking up the entirety of the door frame. 
“You gonna be a brat this whole trip?” His drawl, rich and velvety, almost tricks you into leaning up to kiss him, but you snap out of it from his words. The name shouldn’t make you clench your thighs together like it does. You opt for anger over letting him see what he does to you.
“I’m the brat?” You bite back. He’s not going to do this again. If it’s your last dying wish, Joel Miller will learn a lesson this trip. For leaving you high and dry. For being a fucking asshole, just like you told him at the barbecue a couple days ago.
“You think parading that lil boy ‘round here s’okay?”
“Again with Liam? It’s not any of your business.” 
You look at him. Really look at him—and there’s a certain emotion behind his eyes you can’t place. Like he’s biting his tongue, and you know he is.
“What, Joel? God,” you say, exasperated. 
“Nothin’—I—” he pauses like he’s trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. Then he says something that surprises you—like maybe he really does care about you and what happened in his truck. 
“He make you laugh?” 
You stare at him, shocked, and you can’t help but soften your gaze. You feel like bursting into a puddle of tears—but what’s even worse—you feel like running into his arms. 
“He doesn’t make me cry.” 
He looks down at that. Like he’s defeated. 
“I told you I care,” he throws his words back in your face. From when he had his tongue buried inside you. 
You roll your eyes. 
“What? You think I want it like this?” He continues when you don’t respond.
“I have no fucking idea what you want.” 
“I want to not be sneaking around behind my friend’s back. Your dad’s back.”
“Didn’t stop you before.”
He pushes off the car at that, putting his hands on his hips while scoffing to himself. You think you catch him mumbling something and before you can bite your tongue you urge him to speak up. 
“Insane,” he grunts.
“Sorry?” 
“I said you drive me fuckin’ insane.” 
You pause at that. Partially because his tone suggests it’s not the typical insane but like he can’t stay away from you. Like you drive him up the walls. Like he can’t stop thinking about you. Maybe even the kind of insane he makes you feel. Maybe it's the same thing he does to you. And you didn’t know you did…anything to Joel. 
“That’s my job,” you reply sarcastically instead of saying something stupid—or something you regret. 
You break his gaze—looking down to unlatch your seatbelt. When your hand goes to click the button, you stay fiddling with it; the latch fails to come out of the buckle. 
“‘S jammed. Need to get a repair,” he reaches over you to unlatch it himself. 
But you don’t get your hand out of the way quick enough and your fingers meet over the button. 
He pauses, you both do. The contact makes your head spin. 
You think he’s going to pull away. An apology is already braced on your tongue but instead of moving or retracting, he tentatively rubs your hand with his thumb instead, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature. 
He’s in your space, and he smells like Joel, and you don’t think the two of you have ever shared a more intimate moment. Not even when his mouth was between your legs. 
You look up at him, hesitant, because you aren’t sure what’s going to be looking back. But he stares at you, his eyes soft. Joel looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes. His brow twitches a bit. You let out soft pants—the peaks of your breasts threaten to ghost against his chest. 
He looks at your lips again and inches closer, starting to duck his head. 
“‘M sorry,” he grumbles in a low, dangerous drawl that shoots right up your spine. 
You don’t think it’s a phrase he says often. You’ve never heard it. It sounds foreign on his lips, especially when they’re inching closer to yours. 
“For what?” You squeak out, a breath cutting through your words. 
“Everythin’.” 
Your eyes urge him to continue. 
“Thought I could stay away f’m you.” 
He gets closer. 
“Thought it was the right thing.” 
You shake your head. 
“But I don’t think I can stay away.” 
“Don’t stay away. Don’t go,” you plead with him and shake your head. All of your plans to make him pay have honestly gone out the window. But when he says things like that and he really—honest to god—means them? You know you’re fucked. 
“'M here.” 
You close your eyes at his words and will your tears back when they close. All you can smell is Joel and all you can feel is his hand coming up to loosely wrap around your throat, the curve of his palm hugging your collar bone. 
“Look at me.” In a blink, you do. 
He’s closer, if possible. 
And he kisses you. It’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. It’s not tentative, or aggressive.
This kiss feels like the real apology. Not him on his knees for you and then ignoring you after. He kisses like he’s willing you to forgive him. You know he’s not good with words—that’s why this kiss feels like the heartbreak that had settled in your chest is scattering. It feels like your old fantasies and butterflies breaching the surface are making you moan into his mouth. 
He kisses you like a man starved, but also like he’s scared of messing up again. 
It feels fucking good—he feels fucking good. 
His hand on your throat lengthens your neck to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his bicep and squeeze the life out of him. 
His other hand pulls at the hem of your shirt and almost ghosts the skin of your stomach but the sound of a door slamming snaps you both out of it. Joel turns to see Sarah pushing out of the patio door with her back turned towards you, carrying towels and a cooler. He quickly unbuckles your seatbelt with dexterous fingers, helping you out of the car.
You act like you were helping him unload the flatbed when Sarah turns around—a big smile cast on her face.
“Get your bikini on! Let’s go!” She looks at you and nods towards the ocean over her stack of beach supplies. 
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” 
You hustle into the house with a duffle slung over your shoulder. You can see your dad in the kitchen rifling through the pantry—the cooler for drinks and food abandoned on the floor near the fridge. 
You find a bathroom and change into your swimsuit quickly. You don’t miss the wet spot on your panties. From a kiss nonetheless. You’re beginning to think you’re way more fucked than either you or Joel like to believe. 
You rush out onto the patio. Sarah is probably shoulder deep in the water and it’s way too fucking hot to be sitting under the sun without taking a dip. You haven’t been to a nice beach like this in a really long time. You don’t remember the last time you went on vacation. 
This is nice.  
Joel is being way too…nice. 
You pass him on the way to the beach where you see Sarah jumping through the water. He looks at you, subtly. Out of the corner of his eye. You try to avoid his gaze and hide your blush but you can feel his burning eyes shift to the back of your head as you give him a small smile in passing. 
“Dad! C’mon let's go!” Sarah yells from the water. You look to see Joel staring back at you—you drop his eye when your dad busts through the door. 
“‘N a minute!” Joel grumbles as he throws his duffle over his shoulder, carting in a crate of barbecue things for the weekend. 
Your flip flops splat on the deck as you break into a small jog down to where Sarah is. She smiles at you as you run into the water. The two of you playing in the salty spring like teenagers—well she is—you aren’t. 
You can see your dad and Joel settle on beach chairs some yards away from the shoreline. They sport a couple beers and talk amongst themselves while watching you and Sarah play in the water. 
You catch Joel’s eye a couple times. He even comes down and throws around a football with your dad. He splashes and teases you all day. 
When the sun finally extends down to the horizon and the water turns orange from its light, Sarah tells you she’s beat and basically hobbles back over to the dads on the beach chairs. She slumps down onto the one next to Joel, you move towards them as well, trying not to blush because you know Joel is looking at you before you meet his eyes. 
“Tired?” Joel asks, not to you or Sarah in particular, but it falls on you—Sarah already asleep on the beach chair. 
“Exhausted.” You plop down on the chair beside your dad, taking a towel and drying your hair off before moving to the rest of your body. 
“Want dinner? I’ll make my burgers,” your dad inquires, beginning to stand and take the beers with him. 
“Sounds good dad.” You stand and wrap the towel around your body. “Need a shower.”
You try to wake Sarah up gently, she grumbles and stalks off to the house, you, trailing behind her. She kicks her flip flops off at the entrance and moves to the couch in the living room. She’s back asleep before you get the chance to enter the door. 
Your dad moves to the kitchen, you don’t know where Joel went. Maybe you left him back on the beach. You move to take a cold shower, the small tug in your stomach grew to be quite big when you caught him staring at your exposed skin on the beach. 
When you get upstairs, you enter your designated bedroom. You smile when you realize it has a bathroom attached to it. You strip off your bathing suit, putting it in the sink of your bathroom. 
You wrap a towel around your body and go to twist the knob of your shower. When you tug it towards hot it comes off the shower wall with a chink and you curse to yourself, the water coming out in a leak rather than a stream. 
You huff. This is not what you need right now. 
“Dad!” You call from the doorway of your bedroom—not wanting to venture further in just a towel. 
You turn away from the door—moving into the bathroom, trying to chance figuring out how to fix it instead, when a pair of footsteps fall by your bedroom door. 
“You okay?” A voice calls from your bedroom, but it’s not your dads. 
You jump at the sound of a honey rich southern drawl echoing your name as Joel pushes through the bathroom door to find you in your towel, holding the shower handle.
“Jesus—” he looks away with a cough, you can tell he’s shocked to see you in just a towel. But when he sees you holding the handle he does a double take. 
“What the hell did y’do?” He flips between giving you privacy and moving toward you with an outstretched hand, taking the shower handle into his own. 
“I just tried to turn it on and it snapped off,” you try to reason with him, a flush coming to your cheeks when he comes into the bathroom. 
“Move,” he grumbles, sneaking by you. In the brief moment you come chest to chest, you look up at him and he lets out a groan. His hand snakes by your waist. He looks down at you—a dangerous look in his eyes. 
Joel breaks first, moving towards the shower. 
“I’m gonna—yeah—just…uh thanks,” you gesture to your towel and shut the door to the bathroom behind you. Leaving Joel in there alone. 
You throw on an oversized t-shirt and underwear before he comes out, sans shower handle. 
“Thanks,” you mumble, suddenly self conscious you didn’t have time to put on pants. You aren’t sure why. Joel’s seen…a lot already. 
“‘Course,” he says, but doesn’t leave like you anticipated. 
“You havin’ fun?” He asks. There’s something in his tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care. 
“Yeah,” you reply, breathless, “Thanks for inviting us.”  
“sorry—I—” he points to the bathroom, “thought you were in trouble or somethin’.” 
“‘S’okay.” 
He looks at you, and down to your bare legs, your underwear just peeking out from beneath your shirt’s hem. 
The way Joel looks at you—like you’re the only one who matters—stokes the fire growing in your stomach. The look in his eyes tells you he’s still wrestling with his moral compass. Like he needs to stay away for his own good, but like he said in the car—he just can’t. 
Joel nods, and steps back like he’s turning to leave. You don’t want him to. You need him. When you take a tentative step toward him, he suddenly breaks into stride in your direction. The dam of fleeting touches and wandering eyes for half a day breaks. He grabs your face in his hands, kissing you hard. His tongue slips to run over your bottom lip and you whine into his mouth. 
Your hands come up to rest on his chest. His, wrapping around your waist while he dips his head to start kissing your neck.
“Joel–” you start, but the feeling of his lips on the sensitive parts of your collarbone punches your breath.
He only hums at that sentiment. 
“Where are we going?” you manage to get out, when he’s tugging you into the bathroom by your wrist, shutting the door behind him. 
“Need to fuck you,” he groans into your ear as he spins you around, so your hips press into the bathroom counter. You can look into the mirror and see your reflection. You look entirely too fucked out from a couple kisses and he looks stone cold. 
“J-Joel—ah—jesus,” you moan when his hand dips to your front and catches your clit through cotton. 
“Say please,” he groans into the skin of your neck. You turn your head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, but you don’t mind either way. He’s close, he’s here and he’s kissing you. 
You break away from the kiss just enough to whine out a small, “Please–fuck–”
You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but you know if that’s what he wants—you’d give him anything in this particular moment. 
“Nicer.” 
You whine, the pad of his finger catches your clit just right.
“Please, Joel,” you cut out through bated breath. 
He huffs, you can hear the sound of clinking and shuffling behind you—the tell tale sign of his belt coming undone. 
“Alright, baby, c’mon,” he pushes you down, folds you in half, your breasts pressed against marble. It's cold, and his hot hands on your waist, snaking down to slot his fingers in your underwear makes you dizzy. 
“You’re a tease,” he groans when he eases your underwear to the side, the head of his cock catches your clit.
“Joel—p—fuck—” His cock catches at your entrance. You both pause for a second, reveling in the feeling. One of his hands grips your waist so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises by dinnertime. The other pushes your face down—fingers tangling in your hair. 
“Look in the mirror,” he growls, lifting your head up by your hair, just enough so you can watch his face as his tip slips past your entrance. 
He stretches you out just from that, you muffle down a scream in your throat. 
Joel’s mouth goes slack but he doesn’t react much with his face. He just looks down at your bodies connecting and pants while he slowly slides home. 
“‘S big Joel. Feel so good—oh my god—” he breaks you open and splits you in two. His breath cuts somewhere behind your head—your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. 
He buries himself to the hilt, you curse and mutter inconsistencies into the bathroom. His iron grip on your body goes tighter if possible. 
“Eyes open,” he growls behind you. “You can take it baby, c’mon.” 
You will open your eyes, focusing on him in the mirror. He has a sheen of sweat already casing his forehead, his shirt is half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 
“Relax, angel,” he pants. “You’re squeezing me — could barely get it in,” 
He settles there, you try to relax but the stretch makes you squirm underneath him. He lets you adjust to his length, cursing every time you clench around him. It’s filthy. Obscene. He’s pushing your head up — lifting you by your hair, so you can see him spear into you with no remorse. He’s filthy, and so are you. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars. 
“That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 
“More please,” you whine, meeting his eye in the mirror. The air is thick in the bathroom now, the potpourri on the sill of the window doesn’t really mask much of anything. 
He complies—surprisingly. Moving faster and harder, each push of his hips knocks you into the counter. The grip on your waist gets impossibly tight. The hand pulling at your hair finally lets you rest back down on the counter, pushing hair out of your face when you look back at him. It rests on the back of your neck. 
“Feel so good baby,” he groans. 
“Joel—I’m—I can’t, I’m gonna—” 
“C’mon angel, come for me,” he says, you take another peak at him through the mirror. He looks wrecked. But you look even worse. 
You get impossibly tight around him while he mutters things you can’t hear over the ringing in your ears. You think you hear him toss out a small that’s right when you finally spill over the edge. 
He fucks you through it, his pace doesn’t let up, the coldness of the counter brings you back to reality. Where his breaths are becoming groans and pants and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. 
“‘Nother,” is all he says when your tight walls finally relax, molding to him and only him. 
“I–I can’t—” you say, slumped against the counter. You sound cock drunk. It’s halfway true though. No one else has ever made you come twice in one night. You were starting to think it might be a myth. 
“Know you can, pretty girl,” he goes slow at that, angling down so the tip of his cock catches something inside you that lights the fire again. “There we go. ‘S okay, can feel it already.” 
He pushes you towards another orgasm, it washes over your entire body and you slump against the counter. Maybe it’s some sort of weird trance he has you in. Or maybe you were right and this — whatever it is — is getting bad. Fast. You’re threatening to fall. But he’s there, and he picks you up and holds you down. 
“Jesus. Fuck, baby,” he curses into your skin when your release coats his cock and lets him sink deeper, thrust faster, push harder. 
“Joel—fuck. Fuck.” Maybe the overstimulation should be getting to you, but you stay there like that, as he speeds up and his thrusts become more frantic. He chases after his own orgasm. 
“Turn over,” he says, hastily. His hands move at your body before you can process his words. He flips you around and slots himself in between your legs—sliding back in deep, grinding into you while folding over so his head is in the crook of your neck. 
“Please,” you whimper. You both know what you’re asking for. But he pulls out, ripping your shirt up and spilling all over your stomach and breasts. It coats you, the liquid hot and he dips his head to watch it coat your body. He lets out a strangled string of curses, bracing himself on the counter as he comes. 
He kisses you. Really kisses you. You grab his face and moan into it. Like you’re willing him to stay there, in between your legs forever. 
But he breaks first, moving to grab a towel out of the cabinet above the toilet. He cleans you up gently, wetting the towel with warm water before it touches your skin. The sentiment could make you cry. 
When he’s done cleaning you up, he kisses your forehead. Joel wraps his arms around you as you sling yours over his shoulders. He holds you there, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, stroking your hair and breathing hot kisses into your crown. You smile, lazily. 
He pulls back just enough to look at you. You know you still look wrecked and are in desperate need of a shower—he looks perfect by contrast, completely untouched and definitely unbothered. 
“Dangerous,” he mutters when you look at him through your lashes. 
You kiss him instead of responding.
You know Joel's right—this is dangerous. 
But it feels way too good to stop. 
_
part iv
taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:
@nostalxgic @iluvurfather
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jupipedia · 9 months
Text
— mine yours. - s. gojo. playboy!gojo x reader. warnings : nsfw [ minor do not interact!! ], cunnilingus, orgasm denial, possessive!gojo, praising, lowkey angst, tbh this is pretty tame, not beta read lol, idk if i missed anything !
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gojo was infuriating to say the least.
he was beyond spoiled, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he was used to the best. he had the best clothes, the best schools, the best friends, and even the best women. he's known for having a new girl every now and then, always just as beautiful as the last, driving them around his luxury car until he got bored of them and dropped them.
he's used to getting his way every time, not settling until things were in his favor. he hates being told no when he wants something. he's persistent in all of the wrong ways and for all of the wrong reasons.
however, you couldn't bring yourself to complain as he was knuckles deep into your core, curling his fingers perfectly as he sucked on you clit. your hands were tangled in his white hair, back arched off of your comforter as you withered in pleasure.
the arrangement between the two of you was a bit different that gojo was used to. the girls he was with usually like being shown off. they liked being spoiled with the little gifts he would give them. they would brag about him to anyone who would listen, even going as far to post pictures of the two of them kissing, not that he minded.
you, on the other hand, acted like he barely existed despite spending almost every night in his bed and almost every morning eating at his house, wearing one of his shirts. you didn't go out of your way to see him, you didn't accept any of the things he bough you aside from a necklace on your birthday, hell you didn't even speak to him when you were in the same room if other people were there. he would be lying if he said his pride wasn't hurt.
"got the sweetest pussy, pretty girl," he muttered around your clit, the vibrations adding to the stimulation as you tightened your grip on his hair. he'd spent the last half hour between your legs, having pulled three powerful orgasms from you. he would deny you your release and have the ache build up a few times which led to an earth-shattering orgasm that made your ears ring and vision blur.
"everything about you is just so cute," he released your clit and took one last swipe through your folds before he began to kiss up your torso, stopping to deliver a harsh suck at each nipple before continuing his path to your lips. "so. fucking. cute."
"toru," you whined out as he removed his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to his lips to suck clean before kissing you deeply, your heady taste present on his tongue.
"patience, beautiful. you and i need to have a little chat," he said, opening the foil of the condom with his teeth and rolling it on. as he lined himself up with your entrance, he spread your legs, offering himself a full view of your cunt.
"we have to talk right now? it can't wait—ah!" gojo ignored your words, pushing slowly into your heat and pausing when he was mostly inside.
"please move," you tried to thrust your hips, but gojo was quick to pin them back to mattress.
"here's how this is gonna go. i'll move as much as you want me to, but you don't get to cum until you say that you're mine," he groaned in your ear, unable to resist the shiver crawling up his spine as he settled deeper into your core. you tossed your head back as the tip of his cock scraped your walls deliciously.
"didn't know—fuck!" your snarky remark died on your tongue as he suddenly began to thrust his hips, setting a pace that numbed your mind.
"you can keep the sarcastic remarks. not interested in those right now," he grunted, biting down on your shoulder, hoping to ground himself. your mind grew foggy as you grew closer to your release. you couldn't form coherent words, let alone fulfill gojo's request.
you weren't totally clueless as to where this behavior came from. if anyone asked you if you even knew gojo, you would deny it without hesitation. it didn't matter how many times he fucked you or how many late night dates the two of you went on, you would not admit to dating the man.
and it wasn't even to save face, you just didn't think what you and gojo had going on was that serious. you knew his track record and thought it'd be best to skip any unnecessary future drama that would come with being "satoru's girl".
"'t-toru~ i'm gonna—n-no, please~," you whined as gojo's thrusts paused as your release approached.
"aht aht aht, you haven't said it so you don't get to cum," he said, continuing his pace when he was sure your pending orgasm subsided.
"satoru please! i just wan' cum on your cock," you whined in his ear, arching your back as he grazed your g-spot.
"and i wanna hear you say that you're mine. mine to kiss. mine to hold. mine to fuck," he emphasized his sentences with harsh thrusts. "my girl."
"why—ah! why w-would i say that when y-you aren't mine? i k-know how you work, 'toru," you pushed out, forcing yourself to focus on speaking as he fucked you dumb.
gojo paused in his thrusts to look at you, disbelief painting his face. "you think i spend my friday nights watching scooby doo movies with you just so i can fuck you? you think i wake up before you to cook you breakfast just so i can get some pussy? you think that i help you go over your proposals a thousand time as test runs because i just want to have sex with you? i must've fucked you stupid or something because that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard you say."
"'toru, you know that's not what i meant. i was just saying—fuck!" your arms shot out to hold gojo's hips, hoping to stop his resumed thrusting.
"i know you meant, pretty," he hummed as he picked up his pace. "change of plans. you can come as many times as you want, but i'm not stopping until you understand that not only are you mine, but i'm yours. got it?"
fuck, you were in for a long night.
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© JUPIPEDIA. all rights reserved.
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acey-wacey · 1 year
Note
Hi hi! Could I order a scenario of how Jade and Floyd would react to MC hiding behind them because they’re being chased by bullies?? Maybe grabbing onto the tweels (о´∀`о)
I like to think they’d be surprised of someone hiding BEHIND them instead of FROM them lol..
I'm a sucker for platonic tweels! This is my lifeline rn!!
...
Shrimpy Protection Agency
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Three of the more troublesome NRC seniors decided that they weren't too pleased with all the attention you were getting, having been in Twisted Wonderland for only a few months.
The students decided to corner you in the hallway, much to your surprise and demand that you apologize for the trouble you've stirred up.
When you refused, they accused you of being disrespectful and threatened to hurt you if you didn't start respecting your upperclassmen.
Through your fear, you managed to slip between the students and make a break for it.
You knew they were older, stronger, and faster than you so you wouldn't be able to outrun them.
Your only hope was to hide.
You frantically searched for a place to hide as you sprinted into the courtyard.
You were hoping someone would be there to stop the upperclassmen from pummeling you but it was empty.
No, not empty.
On the very far side of the courtyard, hidden in the shadows, the Leech twins stood, both looking mildly bored.
"Jade! Floyd!"
They both perked up upon hearing your voice.
What was excitement to see you, quickly became confusion as you ran to them and wrapped your arms around Floyd's torso from the back, shielding yourself from your pursuers.
Jade almost never showed his emotions on his face which made it all the more terrifying when his expression darkened as the bullies followed you to the courtyard.
All three of them stopped in their tracks when they saw the intimidating look on Jade's face, worsened by the wide-eyed and manic Floyd.
It wasn't usual to see either of them, especially Jade, without their signature customer service smile on, even when threatening someone, but when it came to you, there wasn't any pleasantry.
They didn't even try to pretend like your bullies weren't in danger.
"I will give you 5 seconds of silence before I begin my pursuit," whispered Jade, though the attackers heard him loud and clear in the echoey silence of the courtyard.
The one that appeared to be the leader scoffed and nervously chuckled.
"You're just a second-year. I'm not afraid of you. And I sure as he11 wouldn't need a headstart."
"Oh, you misunderstand," Floyd laughed, his eyes still crazed. "Five seconds wouldn't help you for a headstart. We're giving you a chance to pray to every God who'll bother to listen to a pathetic bottom-feeder like you."
"You're monsters!" one of the goons screeched after a few seconds of listening to their panicked breathing. Both twins just smiled in the same unsettling form.
"That bridge was burned a lot time ago, my friend," Jade chuckled menacingly before he went back to staring into the bullies' souls. "5."
"Listen, dude! We were just messing around!"
"4."
"Okay, you're seriously starting to freak me out!"
"Better get on that praying then. 3."
"I'm gonna... tell the headmaster!"
"Oh, I'm so scared. 2."
"Guys, let's get out of here!"
"That little shrimp isn't worth this."
"Only I get to call them that!" Floyd screamed after the goons as they stumbled over themselves to get away.
You could hear the bullies leaving but you still slayed firmly attached to Floyd.
"I'm a touch offended you didn't latch into me that way. Do you trust Floyd more than me?"
You looked up to see Jade smirking at you with his usual calm composure, much opposed to his "predator mode".
"I'm sorry," you sniffled, though you all knew you didn't really mean it. "Next time, I'll hide behind you instead."
"Oh, no, no, no, Shrimpy," Floyd glared at you. You could tell it wasn't directed at you specifically but it was still intimidating. "There's not going to be a next time."
"At least we can agree on that note, brother dearest," Jade mused, brushing a hair behind your ear. "We'll make sure no one will ever mess with you again, Y/N."
"What are you going to do?"
"Well, that's a secret," Jade put a finger to his lips and you could see the angry fire behind his eyes.
"You can hug me anytime you want though, Shrimpy!" Floyd chimed in cheerily. You laughed and leaned into his chest.
"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done with out you," you sighed and grabbed Jade's hand, tugging him into a group hug. "I love you. Both of you."
Jade wasn't usually particularly affection and Floyd didn't often practice restraint but both of them cared enough about you to just smother you in a brotherly hug, as long as it will make you happy.
Jade and Floyd made eye contact over your shoulder, making a silent agreement to break every bone in your bullies' bodies and make it look like an accident.
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starglitterz · 6 months
Text
♡ SPICY. // PART ONE
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❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do
✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader
✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s
✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 
part one︱info︱part two
please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3
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✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  
✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 
✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 
✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 
✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 
✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”
✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”
✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 
✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 
✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 
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GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3
© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !
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zeltqz · 4 months
Text
having rindou as a clingy, needy fwb
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content: safe sex, sexting, suggestive pics, rindou is a horny guy, needy guy, clingy guy, implied possessive rindou, fem!reader
a/n: ive been so inactive im so sorry guys i feel so bad :( uni has been literally kicking my BOOOOOTYYYY anyway enjoy this quick one shot with rindou :))
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He’s bold.
You set the shopping bag down on the floor by your bed and began to unpack its contents, ready for a mini fashion show in front of your mirror when your phone chimed by your bedside table.
You were halfway with taking your top off when you heard the buzz and walked over to it and grabbed it.
rinnn wyd
You smiled at his random text message, eyes trained on your screen as you sat backwards onto your bed and texted back.
you Just came back from shopppinggg
Setting your phone down, you’re about to stand back up to head towards your mirror when he responds at lightspeed. Oh he must be so bored today, you snigger and decide to text him back.
rinnn What you get?
you Cant tell you thattttt Too personal
rinnn What was it? Lingerie?
you Oh um
rinnn No way. Pfft yeah right
you WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN????
rinnn Nothing i just cant see you in that at all
you Well its true 
rinnn Sureeee Lemme see it
you Ok wait one second
You stand up from your bed and walk over to your bag, grab the lacy bra and matching panties set and place it flat on your bed. It took longer than a second to snap the photo as you wanted it to look perfect and presentable so you spent longer actually wiping stray crumbs from your bed, closing your curtains to get perfect lighting, straightening out your bedsheets in order to get the perfect photo.
Once you were pleased, you hopped back onto your bed and sent the photo to Rindou. As expected, since it took longer than you said to send the photo he went offline and you huffed impatiently. Ten minutes later your phone was buzzing and you zoomed for it eagerly, only for your smile to fade when you saw his response.
rinnn Thats not what i meant
you WDYM?????
rinnn Did you get it for your boyfriend?
you You know damn well i dont have a boyfriend
rinnn Lmfao i know. just checking
you what???
rinnn Show me the fit tho
you I did
rinnn Put it on
you oh…OHH Sure okay…
You weren’t expecting that at all honestly. Yet the idea of putting it on for Rindou weirdly turned you on. You bit your lip and stared down at the lacy material laid on your bed and slowly began to strip off your shirt and bottoms. Once it was on, you quickly walked up to the mirror and examined how it looked on you. 
It was the cheapest matching set available in store and you weren’t rich by any means so it’ll have to do. You quickly grabbed your phone and snapped a photo of you standing in the mirror. 
The photo was horrible. You were stiff, awkward and you accidentally took the photo in the middle of blinking. You wanted to cry but you couldn’t find the confidence left in yourself to retake it, so you cropped your face out and sent the photo to Rindou without a second thought. 
It all happened so quickly that you failed to realise the gravity of what you just did until you saw Rindou read the message. Your eyes widened and you tossed your phone across the room, flopping instantly onto your bed and thrashing between the sheets for a minute or two to let your frustrations and anxieties out. 
It was the first time you ever sent someone intimate photos and you made a promise to your younger self that you’d wait until you were in an official relationship to do that. But here you were sending them to your best friend just because you wanted his approval for reasons that were beyond you.
Your phone buzzed minutes later and you peeked an eye open at your phone from across the room, took a deep breath then reached for it.
rinnn Damn u look so sexy right now
you Lol stop Thank you tho
rinnn Send another
you Desperate much?
rinnn Coming from the girl buying lingerie for herself
you Nothing wrong with that :( But fine wait
You feel exceptionally giddy when you stand up from your bed, your confidence rising back up in copious amounts as you waddle towards your mirror. This time, you recorded a short video of you from side to side, showing off your assets as seductively as you possibly could before sending it to him.
His response only spurs you on even more.
rinnn Would u kill me if i was hard rn
you Probably yes Flattered, but yes
rinnn How would u kill me?
you Choke you maybe. Or like suffocation and prolong it as long as i can
rinnn With your thighs? I wont mind that
Your face flushes as your thumbs freeze over your keyboard.
you OML YOURE SO HORNY I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT
rinnn Thats how i took it 
you Yeah i know, you weirdo
rinnn How would you suffocate me though?
you With my hands duhhhhhh. Actually maybe a pillow. More surface area.
rinnn You’ll be on top of me?
The image of you on top of him with your hands around his throat plagued your mind and you were lost for words for the third time tonight. It didn’t even occur to you that you were sexting your best friend.
you If that's how you want to go out then yes
rinnn It is
you Then i will
rinnn Good
You This escalated so fast Goodbye rindou 
He’s needy.
His phone is ringing. 
Rindou’s phone is ringing whilst he’s on top of you, lips kissing and sucking your soft skin just under your jaw as his cock thrusts slowly into you. Your hands are playing with his hair, running your fingers through them, scratching at his scalp when his cock reaches that spot inside you with enough force to tease, not satisfy you. 
You’d been begging him to go rougher, want to hear the loud slap of his hips against yours but he’d been so adamant on taking his sweet time, like his phone hasn’t been ringing for the last thirty seconds.
“Rinnnnnn,” you grumble irritatedly, the soft strokes you were doing on his hair now turned to a full on tug , as harsh as you could, with enough force to completely still his lips on your neck. 
He pulls away from you and lifts himself up onto his arms, looking down at you with a peeved expression on his face.
“What.” His hips still don’t still, thrusting ever so slightly into you but keeps on managing to hit that spot regardless and see your eyes roll as you bite down your lip to stifle a moan. 
Unlinking your arms from around his neck, you try to reach over to the bedside table but your arms are too short. Grumbling, you try to shift and Rindou just stills entirely, watching you grab his phone that was face down as it rang continuously for the last minute. 
Missed call: Dad
Missed call: Dad
Your eyebrows raise as you read the contact and turn the phone towards Rindou. He clicks his tongue, irritated your attention is off him and grabs the phone. 
“It’s just my old man, who cares?” He tosses the phone backwards on the bed, this time you can’t reach it if it rings again and his thrusts restart, slowly rolling his hips into your core.
“What if it's important?” you mumble, your voice shaky when he relowers himself on you, kissing your lips softly. “Rin—” Your words keep getting swallowed by his lips and he doesn’t stop kissing you until you finally give in. 
He grabs onto your hand and lifts it, nestling it on top of his head and moves your fingers to play with his hair. You got the hint and began stroking his hair again, loving the way he hums into your mouth whenever you tug at his hair.
You were finally submitting to him again, his phone long forgotten in your mind and he grins before pulling away from the kiss to reattach his lips back onto your neck, adding more to the marks he left on your neck prior.
“Rin faster please,” you whine, trying to lift your hips to feel his cock deeper inside you but he’s quicker. A firm hand pressing down on your hips to keep them flat on the bed.
“Stop being so needy,” he says, voice muffled as he doesn’t stop sucking down your throat. 
“I’m needy? Says the one who’s been kissing me and having me play with your  hair for the last—” You grab your phone that was under his pillow and check the time. You got here around five p.m and it's now close to six. “—hour.”
“Were you not complaining you barely get aftercare during sex? All those other boys you were with practically discarded you, now I’m doing it and you have a problem?” His hand runs on the underside of your right breast before cupping it, squeezing it in his hand, enjoying the way you shiver momentarily. “Make up your fuckin’ mind.” 
His tongue licks at your nipple and your body jerks briefly before stilling as he sucks on your soft nipple till it hardens. 
“That’s—not the same and you know it, Rin.” you huff, unable to think of a comeback; not when he’s treating you like this.  He chuckles and bites gently on your breast.
All you can think of as you toss your head back is the feeling of his soft lips on your breast, his tongue licking at your nipple, sending static down your entire body. 
His mouth is hot against your skin and you find yourself subconsciously lifting your chest higher to feel more of his mouth. 
Your hands grab onto his face and lift him to look at you before pulling him towards you for a kiss. His hand rests on the headboard behind you as your needy mouth moves against his. 
You take the time to run your fingers along his sides, dragging them along his bare back that’s far too clean for your liking, not enough scratch marks like usual. If only he’d actually fuck you like you wanted.
This time, your phone starts to ring beside you and you pull away, breaking the kiss and completely missing the way Rindou rolls his eyes as you instantly go to answer it.
“Hello?”
Bored, Rindou bends back down to your neck only to have you press your spare hand against his mouth, looking sternly at him and shaking your head.
“Oh hi Kakucho. Yes, Rindou’s with me.” 
Rindou gives you a confused look and you shrug before listening intently at your phone. “Oh really? Yeah, we’re not busy right now. I’ll tell him. Okay, bye.” You hang up and put your phone back on the bed.
“Why did you lie?” Rindou asks.
“Kakucho said he needs you for something. I don’t know what, he won’t tell me.” 
“Okay? I’m still busy though.” He pins you back down to the bed when you go to sit up. “I’ll fuck you for real this time. Let me finish.” 
As if to prove his point he shifts backwards, grabbing your ankles and lifting your legs to rest on his shoulder. He leans forward and his cock instantly slides deeper than before; you moan loudly.
 “Right there?” He rolls his hips again, testing. You nod rapidly, breathless and that’s all he needs before snapping his hips recklessly. 
Your walls flutter around the condom with each thrust and he can’t get enough of how good you feel around him. He buries his head between your shoulder and his pillow and listens to your moans, how loud and shaky they get when his hips press firmly against yours. 
“I’m close,” you say softly, biting down on your lip.
“Me too. Shit.” 
His orgasm comes faster than he’d expected, his seed spilling out into the condom when you moan his name softly as your own walls spasm from your own orgasm. He lays on top of you momentarily before remembering Kakucho’s call and reluctantly lifts himself off you.
He slides off the bed and you lift your jelly legs up to sit upright, watching him change back into his clothes. 
“What time will you be back?” you ask, resting your chin on your arm perched on top of your knee. 
“Not sure to be honest. I don’t even know what these people want.” He fixes his belt. “Why? You’ll miss me?” he adds with a smirk and you roll your eyes,
“Other way around Rindou.”
“Mhm sure .” Fully dressed, he fixes his hair that’s been ruffled from earlier. “C’mere.” 
You slide off the bed and walk over to him. He cups your cheek and pulls you closer, gently kissing you. 
You pull away after a few moments and push him towards the door. “Get out already. Stop stalling and go see your friends.”
He laughs before closing the door.
He can’t keep his hands off you.
Rindou has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, keeping sure your body is pressed against his side the entire party. If you wanted to get a drink, he’ll be with you with his arm around your shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, what can he say? 
 If you wanted to play beer pong with his friends, his arm is around your hip, standing behind you, close enough so that your ass constantly brushes his crotch whenever you make any sort of movement. 
His friends all look at him like he can’t be serious. Ran can’t even think of a time he’s seen you without Rindou’s arm around you honestly. It’s gotten that far.
If you’re sitting on the couch, Rindou’s arm is around your waist, making sure you’re sitting as close to him as possible. What can he say, he just wants to make space for others on the couch. He’s a generous guy.
You’re currently in the bathroom, fixing your hair up to get ready to step into the pool. 
Rindou’s watching you as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, shamelessly running his eyes along your body in your bathing suit. You’re not oblivious to his staring, only used to it at this point. It’s not like you don’t stare at him too whenever he’s shirtless. 
It’s only admiration .
Rindou stands up and stands behind you as you take your earrings out, his chest right against your back as you look at him through the mirror.
“You good?” you ask, concerned. He’s been silent the entire time you’ve been changing.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he murmurs, distracted by the thin strap of your bathing suit. He can’t help but wonder how something so thin can be sturdy enough to hold up in the waters. The last thing he wants is for it to come loose and have your entire chest exposed in front of all his friends.
“I dunno Rin. You’ve been really quiet since Sanzu mentioned swimming—”
“Isn’t this a little flimsy?” he cuts you off, ignoring you in favour of tugging at your strap.
“You think?” You tug at the other one and wonder. “I think it’ll be fine. Actually! Could you tighten the strings at the back?” You reach behind your back and gesture at it.
“Sure.” His voice is low as he unties the straps and begins tying them again but tighter. Halfway, he stops and you don’t notice until you’ve fully taken out your earrings, feeling your bikini top begin to slip. 
“Uh, Rin?” You feel him moving the straps off your shoulder but before you can question it, he’s turning you around and hoisting you up onto the bathroom counter. “Rin. What are you—”
He leans forward, entrapping in a kiss that has you shutting up instantly. His hand palms your breast through your bikini top that’s on the verge of falling to the floor. 
Your hands move to the side of his face and hold him close to you as he slips between your legs, his hand dropping to rest at your hips. His tongue plays with yours, licking into your mouth and you have to fight to keep the soft moan rising in your throat down as you ran your hands down the plane of his chest, gripping at the waistband of his shorts to tug him closer.
Your bikini top finally falls to the floor and it feels so good to have his hand caressing your bare breast. 
A loud knock at the door startles you; Rindou remains unfazed, only irritated at being interrupted. 
“What the fuck do you want?” Rindou yells at the door.
“We’re about to get in the pool. You guys coming or not?!” Sanzu yells back from the other end.
Rindou turns back to you and you shrug, not really minding what you do. His eyes drop down to your lips, your bare chest, your legs, then his dick that’s been hard in his shorts for the last five minutes.
“We’ll see you in a bit.” Rindou kisses you again, lifting you off the counter slightly to slide the rest of your bikini off.
“We’re busy right now.”
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poppedbubblgum · 7 months
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I’ve had this au in my brain for months now and only recently drew for it so I’m here to add to the pile of rise aus haha
It’s the standard separated au but my version B) - Donnie grew up with Splinter, Leo stayed with Draxum, Raph ended up at the battle nexus and Mikey was left to roam the streets of the Hidden City.
More info under the cut-
Donnie: The most mentally stable of the brothers somehow. He was raised in the sewers with splinter, and even though he did receive care, splinter still couldn’t really provide much in terms of affection. Despite that they still love each other, even if distantly. He’s chronically online. He knows every vine ever and plays fps games a lot yes I made him a gamer. He and April are extremely close in this au, having met at a young age and April being the closest thing Donnie has to a sibling until finding his brothers. Splinter also refuses to tell Donnie anything to do with mutants/yokai, or even where they came from, much to Donnie’s dismay. Without his brothers and their antics, he doesn’t get out much, and hasn’t made a battle/protective shell for himself yet.
April: She and Donnie met in early childhood and were practically inseparable, them both being only children, and they basically became each other’s annoying sibling. She’s the only reason Donnie came out of his shell (heh) and she likes to take him onto the surface streets for shenanigans.
Leo: Huguinn pulled Leo from the wreckage of Draxum’s lab and was raised in the rebuilt lab. Draxum genuinely didn’t expect the turtles to come out as literal infants after mutation so it’s a miracle Leo even survived this long lol. (Huguinn and Muninn did most of the work tbh) Draxum considers Leo to be a biproduct/fragment of a failed experiment and uses Leo more as an errand boy than anything else. Because of that Leo’s and Draxum’s relationship is also distant. Leo acts nonchalant and sarcastic for the most part, but he can’t help but want to please Draxum. Leo knows about his brothers and even tried looking for them early on, but eventually gave up. He and Donnie meet first. Also he sneaks out to get pizza at Hueso’s when he’s bored.
Raph: His and Mikey’s stories start out intertwined. They both ended up in the hidden city and lived out the early years of their lives there. When he was around 7 years old, Mikey being 5, Raph was taken as a contestant for a battle royale at the nexus, composed entirely of young yokai. (The battle nexus is quite literally a gladiator ring where contestants kill one another) Raph was taken due to his large size, and after managing to survive the battle royale, Big Mama allowed him to stay and become a fully fledged fighter at the nexus. He moved his way up in rank and became one of the top Nexus champions under the stage name, The Beast. He’s soft spoken and quick to anger at first, having received so little friendly interactions.
Mikey: He and Raph lived in the hidden city together until Raph was taken when he was around 5 years old. After that he was basically left to fend for himself. He survived via stealing and living on rooftops and alleys Aladdin style. He’s incredibly agile and a master pickpocket. He even made a name for himself in the district where he lives as the local thief. This, however, hasn’t dampened his spirits at all and he’s just as bright and bubbly as ever. He loves anything and everything to do with art and often does graffiti wherever he can. He’s an avid battle nexus fan and watches the battles whenever he can ( Leo is also a huge fan).
I’ve legitimately had this au in my head for months and this isn’t even close to everything I’ve conjured up but I had to make something for it or else I’d explode. Despite there being a lot of room for angst in this au, I imagine it as more lighthearted and similar to the show in terms of comedy. If you read this far congrats and give me your strength please
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kissforyouu · 7 months
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pairing : jungook x reader
genre : smut , angst
warnings : against the car , in the car , oral sex ( f recieving ) , spanking , jealousy , ft. lil bit of taehyung ;) , toxic relationship , uses of words like "slut" (during sex) , exhibitionism (kinda) , teasing , unprotected sex
a/n : idk what this is but hope u enjoy LOL. and dont ask me why the name of this is woof woof woof idk either umm
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・. .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・
Me and him were always on and off. Jeon Jungkook, I mean. Not the man I was currently on top of right now. That's Kim Taehyung. He was hot, very hot, and the fact that he was Jungkook's best friend made it even hotter. Taehyung knew me and Jungkook were something, whatever we called it. But at this moment, he did not give a single fuck.
His head was thrown back as his hands roamed under the silk material of my black mini dress, all over my ass. My clothed core was pressed against his crotch, grinding slowly. Hands tangled in Taehyung's messy locs, his tongue licks over the spot right under my ear. He nibbles and sucks on the spot gently, taking his time.
I continued moving my hips, begging for some more friction. I wanted something, but not skin to skin contact. Not with Taehyung. I had other plans.
A small moan slips past my lips as I grab Taehyung's wrist before placing it on my right breast. Taehyung's eyes flicker with excitement, his hands immediately squeezing both of my breasts tight. I could tell he was excited, to touch me and to hold me, too bad you weren't going to let him get his way. Didn't think Jungkook's so called best friend would be this unloyal.
I let out a small whine purposely into Taehyung's ear, pretending to be feeling something, as my hand slide into his pocket to pull out his phone. Laying back a bit, I look at Taehyung with puppy eyes, signalling him to unlock his phone. He raises his eyebrow at me, a little confused.
"Wan' to give Jungkook a show..." I tilt my head to the side, giving him my most seductive smile. Taehyung lets out a devilish laugh as he unlocks the phone. Men are so easy.
I place a kiss on his cheek as a thank you, my eyes scanning through his messenger app in search of Jungkook's chat. I find it, the corner of my lip curving into a smirk. I click on the small camera icon at the bottom of the chat, then pressing record.
Looking at the camera with my eyes big and glossy and the prettiest smile on my face, I then look down to Taehyung, who's face was now smothered in my tits. Cracking up my laugh, which I know Jungkook loves, I push Taehyung's face further into my tits. He wasn't even doing anything, why's he so boring.
You pretend to like it, arching my back more, fake moans escaping my mouth as I grind myself onto him. To make my man who'll be seeing this even madder, I make sure to moan Taehyung's name.
"Mmm, Taehyung!" it sounded so fake but that didn't matter. You knew Jungkook would recognise how fake that was anyway. All I wanted to do was to make Jungkook mad. For him to take me home after, then fuck the living shit out of me, then tell me he loves me and make up. And for then, not that I want it, but for this cycle to repeat because one of us just have to fuck up each time. But I didn't care, not one bit, I'd go back to him each and every time. And I know he would too.
Without wasting more time, I click send. It didn't take a second for Jungkook to view the message. Internally, I was giggling at sight of the two blue checkmarks. I almost forgot about the man beneath me.
you : [video]
jkkk🤘🏻: ???
rlly y/n? im omw, he better not be on ur fucking cunt when i get there.
My eyes beam at his reply. He's on his way. Please come quickly and get me away from this man. You let out a groan, way too bored. He was still on my tits, just touching them all over.
About 5 minutes of the same thing — yes, 5. You wonder if he's ever had a woman on his bed before — Jungkook comes crashing in. We were at a party, he knew where we were because you guess Taehyung must've told him where he'd be tonight, definitely not expecting to have me grinding on him. You watch Jungkook's eyes scan the party trying to find us, with your head resting on top of Taehyung's shoulders as he did whatever he did.
Jungkook looked so good. He had his shoulder length hair down, a black wife beater on, his pants hung low rise showing off his calvin klein boxers which I love with a black belt to hold it all together. And to add the cherry on top, he also had a thin silver chain dangling from his neck. Not just any chain, it was the I had gifted him. He was a walking snack, no wonder every woman turned their heads to look at him wherever he went. Too bad, he's mine.
Jungkook's eyes land on mine, then on the man I was on. His eyebrows furrowed, oh he was mad, his tongue poked his cheek as he walked towards us. In no time, he hand was on my arm, pulling me off of Taehyung.
"Really, Taehyung? My girl, out of everyone?" My girl. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I hear him yelling at Taehyung a few more words, but they all sound muffled to me. The only thing I could focus on was "my girl". If only he made it official. We've been boyfriend and girlfriend so many times, breaking up and getting back together. I don't care. I'd still do it. To be with him.
After spitting his last few words out, he turns his head to look at me, eyebrows still furrowed and mad.
"And you. Could've just fucking called me. Had to fuck my best friend to get my attention? Huh?"
He looked so mad, I loved it.
Jungkook's grip on my hand never leaves as he storms down through the crowd with me, leaving Taehyung all alone and frustrated. I grip onto his bicep as we walk down the stairs.
I sigh, breaking the silence.
"I missed you"
"Yeah, fucking right, Y/n. That's why you went and seduced my best friend?"
I sigh, releasing his arm.
"I missed you a lot, Jungkook. I'm sorry about before. I just — I don't know, okay? Sometimes I get so insecure about you with other girls. I don't know how you are, considering how we're always on and off and never stable."
"Oh, yeah? So that makes it okay for you to grind your ass on Taehyung?!" He raises his voice at me. We were literally yelling at eachother in the car park.
"JUNGKOOK! I don't want Taehyung, I want YOU! I don't know why I did that but everything I do is because of you, and FOR YOU because I want you, and-and I don't want you to b-be with some other girl! I'm sorry, okay? Fuck, I got jealous and I stormed out of your house and today I got with Taehyung because I wanted to make you jealous and I wanted you to come pick me and take me home and make love to me and-and then we'd go back to the usual! As always! Like we always do! We always break up and then—"
I was shut up by him crashing his lips onto mine, pushing me against his mercedes. The kiss was rough and hungry, he had both of my arms pinned onto the car. He then pulls out,
"You ramble way too much sometimes, baby"
His thumb skims past my lower lip, eyes shifting from my lips to my eyes. He kisses me again, taking my lower lip between his lips as he gently sucks and bites on them. I melt into his kisses, my body almost sliding down the car but he holds me up with his arms that are holding onto my waist. We make out for about 1 more minute before I pull away, desperately in need of air.
He stares at me with a smirk before I try to catch my breath, his finger twirling one of my curls.
I calm my breathing down, finally, then look at him with a smile. "You good?" He says, teasingly, his knee coming in between my legs. I nod my head, feeling his knee glide up my thigh slowly. I let my clothed pussy sit on his knee, my hands traveling up to my breasts to squeeze them through the material. I nod, my eyes drowsy. Jungkook's knee begins to rub my clit slowly, creating some friction. But not enough.
I begin to grind onto his knee as he lets out a laugh.
"This is what you wanted? Hm?" He lightly slaps my cheek. I nod my head repeatedly. I let out a shaking breath, fastening my pace on his knee.
"Yeah, go on, get yourself off on my knee like the slut you are" his fingers caress my collarbones, slowly gliding them down the small dip of my top to highlight my breasts, his fingers now disappearing in between them. His eyes were filled were lust, tongue poking his cheek, his fingers hook onto the top of my dress before pulling down enough to expose my breasts. I swear I saw his eyes sparkle for a good two seconds. That just made me wetter.
Unknowingly, a moan slip past my lip as I find myself reaching my high. This was so fucking embarrassing in a way, cumming from just grinding on his knee. But it didn't matter, it was him.
"Aah, ah!" I rub my clit over my panties a few several times, finally feeling myself release. It felt like a sticky mess down there. My chest rises up and down as I let out a few breaths out. Shit, I just came. Suddenly, I feel the embarrassment kicking in. My face flushed in red, I try to look away to avoid the gaze of the man whom I just got off of.
"Too embarrassed now? Look at yourself, baby, you're fucking worn out from just my knee" He laughs. It almost feels mocking.
Jungkook's hands glide up my thighs, hooking onto the bottom lace of my dress as he lifts it upto my waist. Right now, my mini dress was just hiked up to my waist from both ends, leaving me almost completely naked.
The smirk in his face never disappears as Jungkook gets down on his knees. His eyes fixed on my wet clothing. Hands now on the waistband of the lace material, he pulls them down upto my knees. My bare pussy all wet and out for him, Jungkook wastes absolutely no time before diving in with a long stripe.
Fuck, finally.
My back arches, hand immediately flying to grip onto his long hair. His tongue licks my bud in a circular motion, then up and down my folds. I feel him place a few kisses all over, making me even wetter. Jungkook releases a breath, then a small hum and he dives back into my pussy. His eyes were closed, displaying his pretty lashes, his mouth skillfully working down there. I moan out his name, thrusting my hips forwards onto his feet. Jungkook groans into my pussy, sending vibrations down me.
"F-fuck...so good! Baby, don't stop" My head was thrown back against his car, tits out, back arched, pussy getting eaten. It was quite the view. Not to mention, we were still at the car park. Anyone could run into us anytime.
Jungkook pulls away for a moment just to spit on my pussy, and before it could dribble down my legs, his tongue catches it as he licks his trail up, back to my clit before he circles my sensitive bud again. He rubs it in the form of an 8, his hand now in between my legs, middle finger rubbing my folds. I feel and hear him hum once again, right before his finger enters me slowly, making me let out a gasp.
I quickly cover my mouth with my hands, lowering my head down to look at the man in between my legs, eating me out and fingering me so good.
I feel his big arms on my thighs, nails digging right into the flesh as they part out my legs even more. Jungkook raises his head up to look at me, letting me get a clear sight of his face fully covered in my slick as his tongue and fingers continue to work on me so good.
His teeth suddenly tug onto my bud, pulling it a bit before releasing it. Shit, he's driving me crazy.
I roll my eyes back, back arching even more. A long whine escapes my mouth as I look down at Jungkook who was now sucking hickeys onto my thighs while his fingers worked on me.
Fuck, I wish I could have him in between my legs like this every single day.
A few seconds later, a gasp leaves my mouth along with a series of whines and moans. Shit, I really was a mess. I was cumming, again, this time all over his mouth and chin. Some even dripped down to the floor and onto his tank top. I stared down at him. I couldn't help but think of how fucking hot he looked like this. Hair messed up, face flushed red and my juices all over him.
"Jungkook, so good..." My chest was rising up and down trying to catch my breath, but I could feel Jungkook's gaze fixed on nothing but my breasts. Next thing, he stands up, his hand digging inside his front pocket to pull out his car key. Impatiently, he unlocks the car.
"Get in the car, baby"
I don't bother replying, already knowing what's happening. A small giggle slips past my lips as I open the car door, stepping inside. I make sure he gets a full view of my ass out in the air and legs spread. In return, I get a spank on my right cheek and a laugh.
I laugh back, making myself comfortable as I just lay there, ass up face down at the back of the car. I didn't need him to tell me twice.
"You know me so well, Y/n." His hand leaves another spank on my right cheek. I hear him get in the car, then close the door. Thankfully, the car was big enough for the both of us to be moving like this.
Jungkook takes in the sight in front of him, his hands palming my cheeks. He then spreads them apart, spitting right in between. He groans as he watches it dribble down my cheeks. His fingers come in contact with my pussy, spreading my juices around so good. I let out small moans, feeling my body relax.
Jungkook's fingers leave a small pat on it before retrieving his fingers back. Right after, I hear the sound of his belt getting removed. The thought of dick inside me itself could make me cum just now. I was so so ready to cum, for the third round.
I turn my head around took at him as he pulls down his pants, then his boxers, and finally releasing his dick out. And god, was he big. He pulls it out then gives it a few pumps. I wiggle my ass, running out of patience.
"Jungkook, I want you inside me now. Please." I emphasise on the 'now'.
"Alright, baby. Anything for you" his lips leave a small kiss on my asscheek. My breathing halts for a second at the feeling of the tip of his dick rubbing against my folds, so teasingly slow.
"Mm, I'll go crazy..." I feel my eyes getting drowsy at the feeling.
"Me too, sweetheart, me too." His other hand glides up my back, caressing it gently. Jungkook pushes in his tip, just a little, making me let out a long whine. He's teasing me!
"Fuck you! Just fuck me! Please!" I almost let out a cry.
Jungkook mocks me once again with a laugh, his tip now a little bit more in. Fuck, why's he doing this. I groan, thinking of taking things into my own matter. My eyes roll back as I bounce back on his dick.
"Shit!" He was now fully inside me, and I couldn't name a better feeling. I grip onto the leather of the seat, slowly gliding myself up and down his dick. Shit, he was so perfect.
"Mmm, so fucking desperate for this dick? That's what you are now?" His palms lay flat on my ass cheeks, supporting me as I bounce backwards on his dick. I nod my head repeatedly as an answer, shouting out small yesses.
My moans and Jungkook's low groans were all we could hear, and the faint sound of his dick going in and out of my heat.
A few more thrusts later, I feel myself getting tired.
"Fuck..." a groan leaves my mouth, my body instantly falling down to the seat. Sex is a whole workout.
"Tired already?" His fingers brush away a few strands of my hair that's sticked to my forehead. I nod, finding myself relaxing to his touch.
Jungkook's smirk grows wider, he flips me onto my back, his body now hovering over me. He looked so majestic, tall and beautiful. My eyes travel from his broad muscular shoulders, down to his arms — big, tattooed and veins popping out —, his sharp v-line, then upwards to his abs glistening with sweat. Eyes traveling lower, I take the image of his dick in, standing tall and proud. Fuck, I think I got wetter.
Unknowingly, my lips part and a small whimper goes out. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, that smug look on his face never leaving.
I know I'm boosting his ego so much right now, for sure.
Jungkook grabs my hand, starting to trail kisses slowly from my fingers to my arm. He kisses my arm, then along my shoulder blade, his other hand pulling my thighs apart. My mouth leaving out a few whimpers, I play with my breasts at the sight of his hand now pumping his dick again. One last tug on my nipple, Jungkook thrusts his dick inside me again, both of us letting out gasps.
He starts to thrust in and out, slowly. I whine loudly, eyes closed and lips apart.
"Baby, fuck— you're so wet!" Jungkook breathes out, fastening his pace. I was so wet that we could hear the sound of it. I bite my lower lip, both hands gripping onto his shoulders. His pace increases more and more, same way my nails dig deep into his shoulders. I know for fact that he'll see nail marks all over his skin next morning. His hips crash into mine repeatedly, balls slapping against my ass cheeks. Fuck, is there anything better than this?
"Jungkook, you're so good, you're making me feel so good~" I moan out, gasping and grunting in the middle. His head bops repeatedly, eyebrows raised, face filled with pleasure.
A few more powerful thrusts later, I feel my high reaching. "Shit, I'm gonna cum" I shout, his thumb on my clit, rubbing fast — adding some extra friction. "Fuck, you're gonna cream my dick nice? Yeah?" He lands a few spanks on my ass, never slowing down his pace. Jungkook's eyes glue onto my tits as they bounce up and down due to his fast pace. I clench around him, his low groans and grunts being his respond as my clenching never stops.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—" a series of curses leave my lips, eyes rolling back I feel myself orgasm all over him. My cum leaks out, making a mess when his hips clash with ass repeatedly. We were so sticky and sweaty. The smell of sex was taking over.
Jungkook arches his neck back, thrusting in a few times more before he pulls out, tip leaking with cum. He jerks himself off onto my stomach, a bit landing on my tits even. His cum spurts out, cum all over my upper body.
He sighs, his chest rising up and down, same as me. I mewl, eyes closed as I try to catch my breath.
"Fuuuuck," Jungkook groans, "that was hot." I laugh a little at his comment, lightly nodding my head.
He smiles at me before reaching his arm out to the front of the car, then grabbing a pack of tissues. Jungkook returns, pulling out a few tissues and then wiping my chest with it. Then down there as well, I relax at the feeling.
He then throws the dirty tissue away, locking eyes with me.
I crawl onto his lap, my arms engulfing his neck. Jungkook hums, wrapping his arms around my waist. My head on his bare chest, I relax to his little caresses. If only we could lay like this forever. There was a small silence between us. I could tell that we both were thinking about what I had said before, right before we started get all over eachother.
"Jungkook." I decide to break the silence.
"Yeah?" He answers immediately.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too."
I pull away to look at him, his big eyes already looking at me.
"I'm sorry for making you jealous with Taehyung. I shouldn't have done that." I admit.
"And I'm sorry for going out with Aeri before. I should've told you, baby, fuck, but I promise we didn't do anything."
He says, sincerely.
"Okay." I nod.
"Can we—can we please get back together?"
"We never broke up. You just stormed out mad." He says.
I press my lips tightly, feeling guilty.
"Jungkook", I press the side of my cheek onto his chest again.
"Do you still love me?"
He cracks a small laugh, "Baby, what are you asking? I've always loved you."
"I think we have issues." The words leave in a small, almost inaudible voice. I don't want to admit to it.
"We always fight, breakup, then we make eachother jealous, then we make love, then we make up—then it repeats." I murmer.
Jungkook sighs, I could tell he was admitting to what I was saying.
"Give us one more chance, baby. Let's work this out. I promise you this time. I'll be everything you need."
"You're already everything I need." I whisper.
"I love you, Y/n"
"I love you more, Jungkook"
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lawsvalentine · 1 year
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@yuhhvalentine I just thought I another scenario that would be fun when you have the time though. Can I please request NSFW Law x Chef 👩‍🍳 Female reader. With the reader making some sex inducing rice balls as a favor for Ikkaku. But Law steals one without knowing. In the end reader figures it out.
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Cee’s note: No way! I was thinking about doing a Law aphrodisiac fic for a minute now, it’s like you read my mind lol. But sure thing love 💓
Tags 🤍: @sanjisblackasswife (🫶🏽 your aphrodisiac series is the best) @3strapstyle @uchihabbynic @pinkcrystal-rose @nympheclipse (my fellow Law girlies and gents ) @roronoaswifey (ily bae) @usopps-devotee (you highkey inspired the mirror sex part)
Consuming an Aphrodisiac Food • Law x Fem!reader • (18+)
CW: Accidental Consumption of Aphrodisiac food, smut (dry humping, fingering, mirror sex, shower sex, praise, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, multiple creampies), a very horny Law, slight aftercare at the end
*MDNI*
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“I’m telling you, the sex is supposed to be MIND BLOWING!”
You chuckled at Ikakku’s words as your hands molded the rice balls into shape. This wasn’t the first time a crew member had requested for you to make them special meals, with you being the ship’s cook and all. However, this was the first time someone requested for you to make sex induced food for them.
But Ikakku was your dear friend. You two were the only women in Law’s crew, so naturally you two became very close. You were more than happy to do this favor for her.
“I still can’t believe you and Penguin are a thing”, you said with a shake of your head. “And please spare me the details about y’alls sex life.”
Ikakku feigned offense with a scoff and a hand to her chest. “Hey! I don’t judge your relationship with our Captain”, she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
Your cheeks burned at the mention of your lover. Even though you and Law have been together for a while now, the thought of him still made you feel butterflies in your stomach.
“That’s different! Me and Law are more…private,” you said shyly.
“More like BO-RING!”
“IKKAKU!” You gasped, ready to throw the rice ball at her.
She giggled, holding her hands up in defense, “Look, all I’m saying is maybe you two should spice things up a bit. Wouldn’t hurt for our uptight captain to loosen up.”
With that, Ikakku exited the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts.
Were we…boring?
Law was a busy man and you a busy woman, with him and his medical studies and you having the responsibility of preparing meals for the entire crew throughout the day. So to balance responsibilities and your relationship, you guys had a schedule for your…alone time.
You weren’t complaining, the routine worked for you too. But now as you were rolling the sticky rice in your hands, you couldn’t shake Ikkaku’s words out of your head.
.
“There! All done”, you wiped your forehead with the back of your arm before reaching behind your back to loosen your apron. There in a metal dish were 6 rice balls sprinkled with the special garnish just as Ikkaku requested. You hung your apron on the rack before heading out the kitchen to fetch your friend to retrieve her “snack”.
After you had exited the kitchen, moments later, your tattooed boyfriend entered in hopes of finding you.
While working, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a short break just to fetch something to eat (mostly to see you). He frowned at the empty kitchen, he was sure you would be in here. His disappointment faded once he spotted the rice balls on the kitchen counter.
His lips curled in a smile, cheeks slightly tinted pink as he eyed the dish.
Were these for me?
Rice balls were his favorite snack and you would make it often for him when he would miss out on dinner, too consumed with work. It was one of the things Law most appreciated about you.
Law thought you must’ve known he would come in here for food and left these rice balls for him. He grabbed two of them to take with him back to his office. As he made his way back, he munched on one of them, humming contently at the taste.
It tasted slightly different than the ones you usually made but it was still delicious nonetheless. He made a mental note to “thank you” later for it.
.
After an hour, Law started feeling…strange.
Law’s forehead beaded with sweat droplets. He paused his writing to wipe his forehead with the back of his palm. He then stripped off his hoodie, his tank top sticking to his chest, drenched in sweat.
What the hell?
Law stripped the damp tank from his body leaving his chest bare. He started examining himself, concerned he was starting to catch a fever. After the diagnostic, he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t sick but something was causing him to be all hot and bothered and it was frustrating the hell out of him.
Suddenly a knock sounded at the door, interrupting his thoughts. He yelled a “who is it?” and turned his attention to the door, to find you peeking your head in with a grin. His face softened at the sight of you.
“Hey babe, I have some time to kill before preparing dinner. Mind if I stay here?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.
You were so cute, Law wanted to kiss that adorable pout off your face.
Law nodded, beckoning you inside with his hand. You beamed as you entered his office, shutting the door behind you. You went towards the book stand adjacent to Law, back facing him as you scoured the selection for a book to read.
Law couldn’t control his gaze from staring at your ass, admiring how nice it looked in those jeans you were wearing. He could feel his pants get tighter from his growing erection. He pressed a hand to his bulge, scrunching his forehead at his body’s reaction.
He didn’t know why he felt so horny all of a sudden but all he knew is that he needed you and needed you now.
You finally found a book to your liking and was about to sit on his desk but instead you were pulled on top of Law’s lap, straddling his pelvis. Your eyes widened when you felt how hard he was under you.
“L-Law?” A soft moan escaped your lips as Law started littering kisses and bites against the skin above your shirt collar.
“Mmm….wanna thank you for earlier” Law mumbled against your soft skin.
Thank me for earlier?
You had no clue what Law was referring to. You were about to question him more until you felt his lips against yours. His hands snaked around your lower back, squeezing your ass through your jeans. Your lips moved against each other so sensually, soft moans being swallowed by each others mouths.
He pulled away to only latch his mouth back against your neck. Your hands tossed his spotted hat to the side before entangling your fingers in his messy locks . He started bucking his hips up into you, adding pressure from his bulge to your clothed sex.
“You’re so good to me Y/N-ya”, Law said between peppered kisses he was leaving from your neck to your lips, “wanna show you how much I appreciate you”
You didn’t know what had gotten into your usually stoic boyfriend but you were definitely enjoying this side of him.
Your arousal started to build as you two continued grinding against each others fronts, grunts and pants escaping each others lips as you both chased your highs. Your moans became high pitched as you felt your orgasm hit you.
You felt Law groan against your neck as he came right behind you, making a mess inside his pants. Law lifted his head, his darkened eyes meeting your dazed ones.
“Looks like we made a bit of a mess” Law smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Before you knew it, you were being carried out of Law’s study room to the bathroom across. You were surprised by Law’s actions considering he was usually very keen about keeping your relationship private, with little to no PDA. You were loving this sudden spontaneous behavior from your boyfriend, making your core throb even more for him. Once the bathroom door closed between you two, you both couldn’t keep your hands or mouths off each other.
“Law what about dinner? Our schedule?”, you managed to get out between kisses.
“Fuck the schedule” Law prodded and pulled your jeans down your thighs. “Need you so bad right now”
That’s all you needed to hear, completely letting yourself go with him. You both stripped each other’s clothes from your bodies. Law turned you around, your back pressed against his chest as he lifted one of your legs up, your foot resting on the bathroom sink. You both were facing the mirror, your leaking pussy on full display.
Law’s arm wrapped around your front, his tatted “E” and “A” fingers infiltrating your wet hole. You mewl at the stretch of his long digits, as he continued to pump in and out of you.
“You look so hot like this babe, getting fucked by my fingers” he said, eyes strained on the mirror, watching the faces you’re making and the way your arms desperately grasp his arms as his fingers penetrate your cunt.
He swears he can cum alone just from the sight of you falling apart by just his fingers. Suddenly your body starts to writhe as you feel your stomach tightening.
“Law…I can’t it’s too much” You whimper, feeling his fingertips hit your sweet spot over and over again. Law takes his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit violently.
“Yes you can, take it” Law was not letting up, determined to get you to cum.
“Shit..Law…Law..Law”, you chant his name as your legs started to shake as your juices spray all over the mirror like a hose.
Law was mesmerized watching you make a mess all over his fingers and the bathroom sink and mirror.
Your vision was hazy and your chest was heaving as you came down from the most intense orgasm you ever had. You didn’t even realize your limp body was being carried into the shower until you felt the warm water spray down on both of you.
Law lowered you onto his cock, and started bucking his hips up into you. Law usually paced his strokes more thoroughly when you two usually had sex, but at this moment his thrusts were animalistic as he chased his high.
The sound of the shower water barely drowned out your cries and Laws groans alongside the slapping of skin against skin.
The way Law’s cock was hitting your g spot so fast and hard, had tears glossing your eyes. The pain of your overstimulated cunt mixed with pleasure was too much.
Law couldn’t get enough of you. He was drunk off the feeling of your sweet warm walls around him. He emptied his load not once, but twice more. He continued fucking himself into overstimulation. He had one more in him, pushing past his limit. His pace never letting up, determined to fill you up one last time.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes” Was the only word you could say as Law continued abusing your cunt. You had lost count of the amount of orgasms you had, each one more intense than the last.
“Fuck, babe, I love you” Law grunts, before spilling inside you one last time.
.
Your back was pressed against his tattooed chest as he lazily caressed the bar soap over your chest pressing a kiss to your forehead.
After you both calmed down, Law’s sexual drive finally wore off. He drew you two a bath to properly clean yourselves off from the mess you two made.
“That was…” Law paused unable to describe what had just happened.
“Mind blowing”, you finished, and suddenly a switch was flipped in your head and your eyes widened at your revelation.
“Babe, did you happen to eat rice balls that were in the kitchen?” You said, tilting your head back to look at him.
“Yes and they were delicious”, he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “I thought that was clear from my “thank you””, he said with a smirk.
Oh my god
You suddenly burst out laughing, and Law looked at you like you had lost your mind.
“What, Y/N-ya?”
How could you have not seen the signs. Suddenly your boyfriend’s behavior was starting to make s lot more sense.
“See, what had happened was….”
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What is Broken III (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)
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The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers
Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity.
Point of View: Limited third person omniscient
Author's Note: Definitely a good thing I split the last chapter into two, this baby is 13.3k lol
Taglist is done via reblogs
What is Broken
Aemond was still holding her when she woke, his arms wrapped around her chest and his face pressed into her neck. Though the bed was little more than creaky slats and the blankets rough and worn, it had been months since she had been so comfortable—longer still since she’d slept so well, even if it was for only half the night.
As furious as she was with Aemond, her body still craved him. So much so that she could not gather the strength to pull away from him, much less stand from the bed. It felt so right, even if they weren’t in their own bed. Even if they hadn’t shared a bed for more than half a year. And even if they were only in thisbed because they were traveling north to reach the very place where her husband had betrayed her.
When one of Aemond’s arms fell to cradle her belly, she tensed. Was this how he slept with Alys beside him? Did he hold her this tenderly? In his dreams, was he holding his wife or his mistress?
Warily, she looked at his hands. Like his face, the features she was once so familiar with had changed. There were new callouses, new scars, and new veins and tendons that had not been visible before. He’d always had the hands of a skilled swordsman, but now he bore the hands of a battle-hardened warrior and commander.
Curious, she tilted her head as she examined one scar, which started on his palm before passing through the space between his forefinger and thumb and cutting across the back of his hand like an angry slash of a whip. She was so focused on examining the wide red line that she did not notice when her movement stirred Aemond awake.
Not until he spoke with a rough, sleep-heavy voice, his breath fanning the side of her neck. “Did you sleep well, ābrazȳrītsos?”
She did not want to admit it, for doing so felt like conceding some kind of battle. But to argue would take more strength than she was willing to give to something so small. “Yes.”
“As did I,” he pulled her tighter against him as he had once done each morning. How well she had once loved waking up in his arms. She could sense his soft smile and braced herself for what she knew was likely coming next.
But Aemond did not press a lazy kiss to her neck as he once did. He lightly trailed his hand over the swell of her belly until he reached her chest. She tensed, thinking his aim was for her breasts, but his hand stilled atop her ribs.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as he traced the length of the protruding bones. “That you were still sick – that you were suffering like this.”
She grabbed his hand, pulling it away from the evidence of her illness. While she waited to answer, she again studied that new scar, so bright against his pale skin. It wasn’t like his other scars, which were faintly pink and smooth. This one was red as blood and rough like worn stone.
Aemond let her study the scar without protest and without pressuring her for an answer. She knew he was nervous with anticipation – she could feel how his body stiffened – but she didn’t care.
“How did you get this?”
He made a soft sound of confusion. “Ābrazȳrītsos, please – ”
“Why do you not want to tell me?
“It is not a pleasant story, I…” An exasperated sigh. “I see.”
Holding his hand steadily in front of her, he began his answer. “It is new. I got it during my battle with Daemon.”
Gods, she had hardly thought about the battle. About what had happened to him and Vhagar. Did he have any other injuries? Did Vhagar?
“Caraxes was dying,” he explained, a hint of remorse in his voice. Not for Daemon’s death, she knew, but for his dragon’s. A mount should not perish for the crimes of its rider, especially when there were so few dragons left. “He was falling toward the lake. He’d tried to bite Vhagar’s throat, but she sensed him coming from behind the clouds and struck him instead.
“Daemon knew he had lost and would likely die. But he wasn’t going to just accept it. As Caraxes fell past us, he leapt from the saddle, Dark Sister drawn and… pointed at me. My eye. My good eye.”
Even with her anger, panic seized her heart as she realized how close Aemond had come to death.
“Vhagar angled herself, so instead of going through me, the sword embedded itself into her side. She’s fine,” he assured her after she tensed with worry for the old beast she loved so well. “Even a great sword like Dark Sister is hardly more than a pinprick to Vhagar.
“Daemon lost his grip on the sword but managed to grab my leg before he fell. His weight began dragging me down,” he said, turning his palm toward her. The rein bit into my hand. The maester said it was like a burn.”
Yes, she could see it clearly now. The size and position of the red mark looked precisely as though the rein was still in his grip. Not a scar, then, but something that would possibly become one. One of many.
Aemond did not continue his tale. But she knew what came next – Daemon realizing he was doomed and telling Aemond with his last words that he’d sent a letter exposing what he’d done.
He had still told the tale, knowing that it would again remind her of that damned letter, renewing her ire. After that, she knew he deserved an answer – for this at least. Her health was bound to that of his children, after all. They had been at risk, too.
“Mother and I wanted to tell you. She was distraught.” Her breath hitched as she remembered how her mother had wept and screamed, swearing that she would not lose another daughter. “But Grandsire forbade it.”
Aemond huffed, his body trembling with rage. But he held her no tighter.
“The Small Council agreed with him—that it would distract you too much, that you would return the moment you read the message no matter the cost to the war.” In truth, she understood the logic behind the decision, but her need to have her husband there to comfort her far outweighed her rational mind. “Mother and I tried to send a raven in secret, but Grandsire had anticipated that and had the Rookery watched. The raven carrying the message was shot down.”
After that, she fell silent. There was nothing more to say than that. Only a fortnight later, Daemon and Rhaenyra seized the city and executed Otto, among many others. Daemon had half-heartedly suggested killing her, too, to “send the kinslayer a message” he couldn’t ignore. But Rhaenyra refused without explanation. Perhaps she still extended the same forgiveness to her as when the conflict first began, or she did not wish for the sin of kinslaying to weigh on her, too.
Whatever the reason, she was grateful. For herself and her children. And for all those who would have suffered and died as a result of Aemond’s rage.
The rage was building in him now. “Were he not already dead, I would kill him myself,” he hissed. “And I would not be so merciful as our sister was to kill him quickly.”
“Does it really matter now?” She sighed, dropping his scarred hand.
He flinched as it hit the bed. The wound still hurt, then. “Of course it matters! If I’d known, I – ”
She was glad she couldn’t see his face as she shut her eyes and buried her face in her pillow, pulling out of his grasp. “No more ‘if,’ Aemond! It does not matter what you would have done, because you didn’t do it. The past is past, and you cannot change it. You cannot change what you’ve done, no matter what you say now.”
Silence fell, interrupted only by muffled noises from the awakening town beyond the window.
“I know I cannot change the past,” Aemond said, his voice cracking as if he were near tears. “But I don’t know… what can I do? What can I do to show you how much I love you? How much I have always and will always love you. How much I regret what I did, and how much I wish I could take it back? I don’t know what to do, ābrazȳrītsos. Please. Tell me what to do.”
She said nothing, and Aemond wrapped his arms around her again. “Please, raqiarzītsos, tell me what you want.”
What did she want?
She wanted to pretend nothing had happened. She wanted to be able to forgive him. She wanted their lives to go back to the way they were.
She wanted to scream at him until her voice failed her, then tear him to pieces with her bare hands. She wanted him to suffer for eternity for what he did to her.
She wanted every trace of his betrayal erased entirely. She wanted to have him burn what remained of Harrenhal to ashes with his mistress inside. Better yet, she wanted him to kill the whore himself and mount her head above their children’s cradles.
No, not that. Never that. Even the thought required a prayer to the Father for forgiveness. She did not want blood on her hands or more death. She just wanted to understand everything that happened so she could decide whether she could forgive Aemond – if she wanted to.
“I just want this journey to be over,” she whispered, “so we can go home.”
Aemond’s arms went slack, but he did not let her go. “I… yes, I want that too. I want to go home – with you. Everything will be better once we’re home.”
It was a lie, she knew. But it was nice to let herself believe the lie, if only for a moment.
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It was easier, she decided, not to fight.
Easier to let Aemond help her dress, his fingers skimming lightly on her skin in a cruel imitation of past worshipful caresses. To let him serve her food and to eat it all to please him and avoid his pleading for the sake of her and the babes. To let him arrange the pillows and furs in the wheelhouse until they were just so before he sat beside her, holding her in his arms so she could find comfort and rest.
So much easier to not constantly be on guard, ready to snap at his every word. To not constantly fight over every little thing. To find some measure of peace, despite the circumstances.
It was a peace as fragile as spun sugar, but it was peace nonetheless.
At the very least, she could sleep again—without waking to be sick, without fumbling in the sheets to try to find comfort, without reaching across the bed only to find it cold and empty.
After again fussing over her at supper, Aemond would help her prepare for bed. While a bath was being drawn, he would help her disrobe and remove the braids in her hair, brushing out tangles with the singular focus of a holy man studying his texts. When he led her to whatever bathing room their accommodations provided, he did not touch her more than absolutely necessary – a hand to help her stand, a gentle grasp on her elbow as she walked, and his arms around her when she stepped into the bath. Then, he left her alone.
Before, he would never have done so. He would either join her in the bath, touching and teasing her so much that the water went cold by the time they actually washed themselves, or sit beside it while he read to her.
It was odd to bathe alone, with neither husband nor servants to attend her. The quiet made the room seem infinitely larger. And lonely, even with the babes in her belly. She made a point of bathing as quickly as possible so she did not have to endure it for too long.
When she called for Aemond, she would listen to each of his footsteps before he paused at the door, knocking softly. He would not enter unless she allowed it and affirmed it twice. When he helped her out of the bath and dried her, he hesitated before moving to certain parts of her body – her chest, her face, between her legs – and his touch grew even gentler, like he was afraid she would break if he pressed too hard. She was both grateful for it and incensed that it had become necessary.
He brushed and braided her hair once more and dressed her in her nightgown before tucking her tightly into bed and crawling in beside her. He took her in his arms and pulled her close, softly singing Valyrian lullabies into her ear until she fell asleep.
On the twelfth night after leaving King’s Landing, neither acknowledged aloud that their peace would irreparably shatter the next day – when they arrived at Harrenhal at last.
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Night had long since fallen when the towers of Harrenhal appeared over the tops of the trees. Aemond brought his wife closer to his chest, careful not to wake her. He knew that with their arrival, the relative harmony – the precious near-normality – of the last few days would soon end, possibly forever.
He dreaded seeing her at Harrenhal. It was too broken, too dirty, too dark for her. She would stand out like the moon against the night sky. And when she looked at those ruined black walls… he would have to see the pain on her face as she looked at each room and alcove, wondering if it was one of the places he’d been with Alys.
That would be the worst – seeing her face Alys. Each time he tried to convince her not to meet the witch, she refused, saying she wanted ‘answers.’ It wounded him deeply to hear her say that, but he understood. He had betrayed her trust. Destroyed her trust in him as thoroughly as he had all those towns and villages during the war.
Still, he would not give up trying to change her mind. He would not push her, but he would say whatever he must to protect her.
As the walls of the fortress loomed taller and taller, Aemond knew he needed to wake her soon. But he wanted to savor their last moments of peace, for it very well could be the last they would ever share.
He leaned down to kiss her temple, lightly brushing his knuckles over her cheek. She stirred slightly but did not wake. “Avy jorrāelan, ābrazȳrītsos,” he whispered. “Mīvojughilās jāla dōrī. Ao mirro rȳbilun.” I love you, ābrazȳrītsos. Never forget it. Whatever you hear.
She did not wake until the wheelhouse rumbled over the uneven stones at Harrenhal’s gates. The moment they passed through the thick black walls, she pulled away from him as if his touch would burn her. He felt sick, and forced himself to look away from her.
The fortress appeared just as Aemond remembered, yet it had changed monumentally in the mere days since he had last been within its walls. The towering palisades of melted stone had once seemed strong and imposing but now struck him as decrepit and hubristic. And its inhabitants – now standing in a line to greet the closest thing they had to a lord and master – he had once seen as a mighty and determined army, people he was proud to lead. He saw them for what they truly were now – tired, hungry, and desperate.
As he scanned the crowd, looking for a face he knew would enrage him, he recognized the wide-eyed look he once thought was reverence as something far different. It was fear. These people were afraid of him. He couldn’t allow himself to think too hard on that, not when he still had not seen those sickly green eyes.
Part of him hoped she wasn’t here so his wife could sleep well for one more night. Part of him hoped she was so he could strike her down in front of this crowd of hundreds and prove that she meant nothing to him. Though the babe she carried…
Those eyes weren’t there. Alys wasn’t there. He gave a prayer of thanks for it despite his bloodlust. His ābrazȳrītsos wanted to meet her, yes, but it shouldn’t be here. Not in front of so many people, not when she was exhausted from a long day on the road. And displaying such violence before her, when he knew how she despised it, would break her forever.
He glanced at her and fondly remembered how she had clung to his hand throughout their wedding tourney. What they had done each night after the games to help her forget the violence she’d seen.
It seemed she felt his gaze on her and turned to him. His smile faded. Her eyes, which he had always thought to be full of light and warmth, like a burning hearth, were dull and cold, like the very stones of Harrenhal.
“Is she…” She swallowed thickly. “Is she here?”
She did not face any of those gathered, as if afraid to accidentally look at the witch. He stepped toward her, subtly blocking them all from her view. “No, raqiarzītsos.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek, as he had so many times in the last few days, but now, she moved out of his reach. “She’s not.”
“Can we go inside, then? I’m tired.”
“Of course,” he said as he took her arm – grateful that she still allowed that, at the very least. “But you should eat something before you retire for the night. You have not eaten since midday.”
She blinked, though her face showed no emotion. “I am not hungry.”
Aemond sighed as he guided her to the keep’s entrance. “That may be so, but the babes need you to eat for their sake if not yours.” She gave no reply, but before he could press for an answer, they came upon Ronnel Cratter, the slight, anxious man Aemond appointed to serve as Steward of Harrenhal after Simon Strong had met his fate alongside all others of their line… almost all.
“My prince, how wonderful it is to see you returned!” The poor man was already sweating. “And to at last meet your lovely lady wife. Your husband has always spoken very highly of you, princess.”
She lifted her head to examine Ronnel, her eyes sad yet appraising. Her lips parted slightly but closed again as she inclined her head. He understood the flicker of wariness that passed over her face. She wondered whether the man in front of her knew what her husband had done—if he was complicit in it.
He needed to turn her mind to something else, quickly. “Is everything prepared for the negotiations?”
“Oh, um… yes, they are,” Ronnel stammered.
“When will Stark arrive?” Aemond asked, thankful to have not seen the Northman or any of his forces among those that came to greet them. Their absence would give him time to sort out what to do with Alys before the negotiations demanded his full attention.
Ronnel winced, his rough cheeks turning bright red. The man had never been able to conceal a lie—it was the reason Aemond chose him as steward of Harrenhal. “Lord Stark arrived three days ago, my prince.” He shrunk into himself slightly, rightly anticipating his master’s anger at his words. “He claimed it was too late to greet you and the princess and asked that I tell you he looks forward to meeting you at the negotiations tomorrow morning.”
The sheer fucking disrespect. To be in what was his keep in all but name and refuse to greet him upon arrival? Somewhere in his mind, Aemond knew why Stark had done it, to establish his dominance like the pissing dog he was. But he could only truly think about the insult of it. His very bones sang with bloodlust, negotiations and peace be damned.
But then, a gentle hand on his arm. Warm, even through his thick leathers. Her hand. Her graceful, soft, beautiful hand. She looked at him, gaze never wavering.
“I’m tired, Aemond.”
Only she could have stayed his hand. He had grown so accustomed to bloodlust in the months he’d been here that any other solution seemed folly. But to kill or even maim Cregan Stark would likely reignite war and, worse, deprive him forever of his wife’s love. If he hadn’t lost that already.
So, Aemond turned to Ronnel and fought to control his breathing. “Take us directly to our rooms.”
As they followed the steward through the dark stone halls, his wife looked at him from the corner of her eye but swiftly looked away. Her eyes roved every hall, alcove, and doorway, fear and hurt in her eyes. Did she think she could somehow see where he had been with Alys? Could she see the lingering ghosts of his betrayal?
He was certain he could—he would. That is if he were to enter any part of the keep where he had been with Alys, and he certainly had no intention of doing so. He had sent a raven to Ronnel with specific instructions to prevent it, although his ābrazȳrītsos’ request to meet Alys might require it…
“Here we are, my prince,” Ronnel said as he opened the door to a well-appointed, if somewhat small suite in the guest’s wing. “And princess!” he added hastily. “Forgive me, princess. I have become quite used to only addressing your husband…”
She ignored him entirely, walking to the center of the sitting room as she surveyed the space. The rooms were less than half the size of those Aemond had occupied before. But he could not bring his wife to those rooms or that bed. Perhaps he would have them burnt.
He watched as she crossed the room, headed directly for the bed. She brushed a hand against the blankets before recoiling as if the bed would bite her. Slowly, she turned to face him with such a look of desperation that he came to her side immediately.
“What is it, my love?” He crossed the room and took her hands in his own, holding them close to his chest. “What’s wrong?”
Tears formed in her eyes as she looked from him to the bed and back again. “Is this…” She took a shaky breath. “Was she in here? With you?”
Ronnel’s eyes went wide before he made a hasty, silent exit.
“No!” Aemond answered nearly before she finished her question. He leaned forward, pressing their brows together. “Of course not, ābrazȳrītsos. I promise, I – never, in this room. I swear it on my life.”
There was still mistrust in her eyes, but she nodded. “I don’t like it here.”
Once, he did. Once, this was his domain, his kingdom. Now, it was a barren wasteland occupied only by regret and shame. “I do not like it, either.”
She looked at his chest, but he knew she was somewhere far away. “I want to sleep.”
“I know,” he pulled away, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Though it had only been thirteen days, he was sure he could see a new fullness to her cheeks, a new softness around her waist, and a renewed light beneath her skin. He would not allow that progress to falter. “But you must eat, remember?”
She sat at the foot of the bed, wrapping her arms around herself. “I really am not hungry, Aemond.”
“You needn’t eat much,” he countered, sitting next to her and trying not to flinch when she angled herself away from him. “Some broth? Perhaps with a little bread? You must have something.”
He watched as her hand cradled her belly, stroking softly as if to soothe the babes with her touch. Resisting the urge to put his hand over hers was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he understood full well that to do so was a privilege he did not deserve.
“Very well,” she said at last. “But just a little.”
“Of course.” Aemond held his hand out for her to take, but she hardly glanced at it. “Is there anything else I can do, ābrazȳrītsos?”
She thought for a moment. “I would like to bathe before I retire.” Aemond immediately rose and positioned himself to help her stand, as he had for days now. “Can you summon servants to help me?”
A simple request shouldn’t have wounded him so deeply, yet it did. The bond they had begun to reform was gone, perhaps forever. Being denied this – the mere pleasure of helping his wife – felt like a mortal wound.
“Yes, I will fetch them now.” His voice was wavering. He could hear it as he could feel his composure teetering ever closer to breaking. He lingered a moment longer, hoping she would say something more, that she would change her mind and let him help her, or that she would say something to suggest that she still trusted him, still cared for him.
She said nothing.
Aemond almost wished she would scream and rage and roar at him as she did that first night in King’s Landing. It was better than this, the half-life she seemed to be living. The exhaustion and indifference. Let this be because of her pregnancy, he silently begged the gods. Let us finish this, go home, and be well again. Let her be well again.
“I love you,” he whispered before exiting the room.
He did not expect her to say it back, but the silence still stung.
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The servants arrived before Aemond did. It caused no small amount of unease in his wife’s chest. As the servants he sent undressed her and prepared her bath, all she could think of was where he could have gone and why he’d left her for so long. Had he gone to fetch food himself?
It didn’t help that the servants were utterly silent. It wasn’t like the light quietness that sometimes settled over her own servants at the Red Keep. This was a heavy, cloying silence. None could hold her gaze for more than a moment before looking sheepishly away.
They know, she realized. They all know what Aemond did.
Her mind started to race. They probably even helped him. Alys is likely their friend. After all, she was a servant before. When they leave here, they’ll probably run straight to the witch to tell her how pathetic she is and how Alys is far more beautiful than her. They’d –
She could stand their presence no longer. As one of them brought a dampened cloth to wash her shoulder, she flinched away, splashing water over the edge of the copper tub. “Get out!” Her voice was foreign to her as she screamed, cruel and hoarse with desperation. “All of you, leave! Now! Get out, get out, get out, get out!”
She continued shouting, covering her ears with her hands and scrunching her eyes shut. The babes protested, kicking frantically against her stomach. But she could not stop screaming.
How could she do anything other than scream? And cry? And rage? She was trapped in the very place where the worst thing to ever happen to her had occurred.
This was hell. It had to be, for being in these walls was torture. What had she done to deserve such a thing? What grave sin had she unknowingly committed? Why was this happening? Why? Why? Why? Wh –
“Ābrazȳrītsos!” Aemond’s voice was accompanied by the feeling of his large hands wrapping around her wrists, gently prying her hands away from her ears. “Ābrazȳrītsos, look at me! Please, my love, you must calm down.”
His words did no such thing; she barely even registered that he was speaking to her or touching her. This was just another torture, to be constantly with the man she both loved and loathed.
“Lykirī, ābrazȳrītsos, kostilus.” The words, now spoken in their mother tongue, finally began to slip through the whirling thoughts in her mind. “Āmāzin. Tolvȳn sȳri issa. Ao ȳghāpa iksā, jemot kīvio ñuhe tepan. Yn ao lykemās bēvilās, iā jāla riñari ōdrikōt.” Calm down, ābrazȳrītsos, please. I am back. All is well. You are safe, I promise. But you must calm yourself, or it may harm the babes.
“Kostan daor,” she pled. I cannot.
Aemond tightened his grip on her. “Ao bēvilās, kostilus!” You must, please!
She shook her head as her entire body began to tremble, and a chill numbness crept into her fingertips. “Jeme gīmīt, Aemond. Jeme līr nyke istan gīmīt.” They know, Aemond. They know what you did.
“Gīmin, ābrazȳrītsos, drējī usōven.” He leaned closer to her, his elbows now resting in the bath, water creeping up his sleeves. “Drējī usōven.” I know, ābrazȳrītsos, I am so sorry. I am so sorry.
She curled in on herself as tightly as she could. “Ao ōdrittan yne. Ao qrimpāletan yne.” You hurt me. You betrayed me.
“Gīmin. Jāle hegnīr daor jaelan. Tolikta mirroso.” He was half in the bath with her now. I know. I regret it. More than anything.
“Istan aōha riñari nevīlen,” she cradled her belly protectively, “se vasīr toile ābroma ēdan ojenille hēnkirī.” I was pregnant, with your children, and you still fucked another woman.
“Gōntan.” I did.
“Ao yne pirtra ivestretan, avy hen yne hēdrȳ ruartan.” You lied to me, hid her from me.
“Gōntan.” I did.
“Ao īlē nevīlen aōha ilībōño gōntā. You let her carry your bastard.
He flinched then. Unlike before, seeing him hurt didn’t make her feel any better. “Gōntan.” I did.
“Lo Daemon ivestretaks yne gōntē daor, nyke dobotēdāvī iemnȳ glaesilun. Ao yne ivestrilū gaomilū daor.” If Daemon hadn’t told me, I would have lived forever in ignorance. You were never going to tell me.
“Istan.” I was.
“Skorȳso?” Her voice failed her, morphing into a wordless cry, and it became painful to speak in the language of their ancestors – yet another thing she and Aemond shared. Had it been tainted by Alys, too? “Why? Have I done something to displease you? Am I not enough for you? Do you not love me the way I love you? Do you hate me?”
“No! No, my dear, I – ” He swallowed a choking sob as he stammered. “I love you. I love you more than anyone has ever loved another. You are my very soul, ābrazȳrītsos.”
There was no hint of falsehood in him. But how could that be true? How could he love her so much and hurt her so deeply? She lifted her head to face him. She had never seen him so distraught, even the night his secret had been revealed. “Then why?”
“I…” He dropped his head, his brow coming to rest on the edge of the copper bath. “I don’t know. I cannot explain it. I was foolish. And weak. But know I will do anything to show you how sorry I am. I will be your eternal servant. I will go into exile if you ask it of me.”
He pulled away from her, drawing his dagger and positioning it before his heart, the tip biting ever so slightly into his leather surcoat. “I will end my own life if that is what it takes to make you happy.”
“No!” Her reaction was immediate, a tug on some unseen string that connected them soul to soul. What would she become if that line was cut? “I don’t want that. I just – I want to sleep.”
Aemond’s dagger clattered to the stone floor. She didn’t know if it was relief or regret that painted his face. She didn’t know which she would prefer.
“Let’s get you out of the bath and dry first,” he sighed as he stood to fetch a towel. It was somewhat irritating that he did not ask if she wanted his help. But even if she had, she would have said yes. She would much rather endure his presence than the servants who looked at her as if she were a freak in a mummers show.
With the towel slung over his shoulder, Aemond extended his hand to help her stand. His touch was again hesitant and respectful. His eye turned as far away from her as he could allow it while still being able to help her.
“Where did you go?” Her question caused him to freeze with his hands on her shoulders as he softly dried the lingering water from her back. “After you summoned the servants, where did you go?”
He sighed. “I was waiting in the hall, ābrazȳrītsos. I thought you would not want me to intrude while you were…” another sigh. “I was only in the hall, I promise.”
Begrudgingly, she believed him. He had arrived quickly after she started screaming. But knowing he had not sought out Alys made her feel little better. She did not know why.
A dark seed of mistrust had been planted in her heart, strangling it with thorns of anger and spite as it grew and grew. Would that it were only a plant, she would tear it out of her chest with her own hands with no thought to the blood and thorns that would shred through her. It would still be better than this.
That terrible, unnatural silence again fell upon them as if it were a specter haunting their every thought and movement—a shadow larger and more terrible than Vhagar herself that turned each glance into a piercing shard of ice and each touch into the grating pain of fingernails digging into stone. It vanished only when Aemond slid into the bed beside her and moved to embrace her.
“No!” she hissed as she pulled away. “Not… not tonight. Not while we are here.” She felt Aemond’s hand pulling back as if the limb were her own. Felt the shifting of the bed as if it were the earth quaking and rending beneath her.
“I understand, ābrazȳrītsos. Drējī usōven.”
She could see him in her mind’s eye, lying next to her like a corpse prepared by the Silent Sisters – his legs straight and arms folded over his ribs. She could see the pain on his face, the tears likely spilling over his temples and into his hair. She could see his fingers trembling as he fought his body and soul’s command to touch her, hold her, love her.
Cruel visions sent by the ghost Aemond had created the moment he took Alys to his bed.
They followed her into her dreams.
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Aemond did not sleep.
Though he lay in bed, he found no rest. From the moment his wife closed her eyes, he was haunted by demons of his own making – memories and visions of his sins.
He saw the first night he fucked Alys. Saw how weak and small he looked as he sat before the fire in his chambers, staring at the black sky outside the window. Saw the fear and doubt on his face as he thought about leading men into battle when the sun rose. Saw himself as a pathetic little boy, not a prince or the rider of the largest dragon in the world, certainly not like a man who could win a war.
He watched as his attempts at resisting Alys became quickly feeble. That night, he was desperate for anything to tether him to himself, and his Ābrazȳrītsos was so far away… he was little better than an animal. He was an animal. The way he touched her, clawed at her, bit her was no less than beastly.
Everything that made him a man – made him worthy of his wife – vanished the moment he touched her. To gain it back would not be so easy.
It would begin with the peace negotiations. Putting an end to the war that had driven this wedge between them would be the first step, not only in saving his marriage but also in healing what would soon be his realm—their realm.
He turned his head to look at his Ābrazȳrītsos. His queen- his dārītsos. It was a pleasure he had not allowed himself since lying beside her.
She was so beautiful. She would always be beautiful. Even when she was so thin, and her brow was creased with sadness, she was beautiful. How had he ever thought that he deserved such a perfect wife?
Perhaps it would be best if he agreed to what Aegon had threatened. Exiling him and Vhagar would undoubtedly put many who supported Rhaenyra at ease. Then, she would marry Aegon and become the queen she deserved to be, at least for a while. None could protest the legitimacy of their babes’ claims to the throne if she were the crowned queen.
In his exile, Aemond could travel to the ruins of Old Valyria to let whatever horrors his ancestors left behind mete out the judgment for his sins.
But Aegon would die soon, leaving her a widow. A widowed queen could never remarry. She would become little more than a decoration, the poor dowager queen forever standing in the shadows. And she would not be allowed to serve as regent for their heir – nor would their mother, despite having governed the realm for years while their father was infirm.
Who would speak on behalf of their child? The Small Council was filled with vultures seeking their own advantage. Larys Strong and his ilk slithered like snakes into every and any ear they could to try and advance their positions. Traitors who had only sworn loyalty to Aegon when it became clear Rhaenyra’s claim was doomed.
The only people he trusted to guide the children would be Grand Maester Orwyle, newly freed from the Black Cells, or Tyland Lannister. But that wasn’t enough. Who would protect her from those who would seek to take advantage of her?
No, he could not leave her. Despite her feelings toward him, he was the only one capable of keeping her safe. He had to stay, for her sake, he told himself.
Though in his heart, he knew the decision was selfish.
Aemond stared at her until the first rays of sunlight shone through the eastern window, imagining her perfect features on their children. Her dark eyes, the curls in her hair, the soft innocence of her smile. He nearly wished that he would see nothing of himself in the babes.
Then, those dark eyes opened, looking blearily at him. He swore there was a flicker of unabashed joy and love in them before they again went cold. At least the rising sun still gilded them with gold. Yes, the babes should have those eyes.
She turned away from him and tried to stand.
“Don’t wake, my love.” He said gently, a hand hovering just above her shoulder to stop her from rising. “Stay and rest, please.”
“No, Aemond.” She frowned, that sweet mouth set in a hard line. “I do not want to sleep. I wish to go with you today.”
She had been so upset by his leaving the night before. Had she not believed him when he gave his answer? Did she want to monitor him to ensure he did not betray her again? He shook his head. “I promise I am not going to see – ”
“I know you aren’t.” She sat upright, facing away from him. He wanted to embrace her, to hold her against his chest, but she hadn’t wanted that last night. He had resisted touching her since then. He could remain strong. “I wish to accompany you to the negotiations with Lord Stark.”
That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She had never shown an interest in such things before. “Whatever for?”
She pouted in response. “If I am to be your queen, I must be prepared. Mother ruled alongside Viserys. I intend to do the same.”
Their mother had not only advised Viserys but ruled in his stead when he was too ill to sit the throne himself. It made sense that she would want to follow the path Queen Alicent had made. She knew little of what it took to rule a kingdom, but she was smart, she would learn.  
“Very well.” He nodded as he stood from the bed to help her stand. His heart almost burst when her hand touched his. “I must admit that to have you beside me will fortify my resolve.”
He expected that would make her smile – hoped it would.
She dropped his hand. “And after, you will take me to see Alys.”
Damn it. Damn it all, especially that witch.
“Ābrazȳrītsos…” she scoffed and turned away from him, ignoring his outstretched arms. He followed her into the dressing room. “Raqiarzītsos, please. I beg you, do not insist on this.”
“I need answers, Aemond.” She hid her face in the mass of dresses that now hung on racks, but he could still hear the wavering determination in her voice.
He understood well what she was too polite to say plainly. She needed answers from Alys because she did not trust that Aemond told the whole truth. Even the implication stung deep in his chest. On that, he knew he could not change her mind.
“I understand,” he said carefully, remaining in his place by the door. It was the truth. “But Ābrazȳrītsos… can it not wait until you are stronger? Until the babes are born and you have recovered from the hell they’ve put you through? Then I can fly you back here on Vhagar so you don’t have to stay here and wonder…”
Only once had she acknowledged her curiosity about where in the keep Aemond had been with Alys – when they first arrived in their rooms. But he had seen it from the moment they passed through the walls. That uncertainty made her seem even frailer than she already was.
Her hand tightened on the velvet of a green dress. “I don’t want to come back.” He took a step forward, but she faced him. The tears in her eyes halted him immediately. “I don’t ever want to come back to this place again, so it must be now. Today.”
Aemond’s heart had shattered days ago, but the pure agony in his ābrazȳrītsos’s beautiful eyes then trampled the remaining shards to dust.
“Today it will be, then.” He could not banish the worry from his face, but she smiled anyway. “Tomorrow, we will go home. If Stark still has anything to say, he can follow us back to King’s Landing.”
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Cregan Stark was already in the great hall when they arrived, along with what seemed like the bulk of his forces. Of course he was. After his absence at their arrival last night, Aemond was a fool to think he’d do anything else.
The Lord of Winterfell was every bit a wolf.
He certainly smiled like one as Aemond walked through the doors, standing to bow only his head. He seemed to think his prideful displays of irreverence would somehow give him an advantage in the negotiations.
But a wolf was nothing to a dragon.
“My prince,” the lord’s voice was anything but respectful. Perhaps he still held a grudge for the death of Jacaerys. Not that anyone was to blame for that but the bastard himself. “You have joined us at last.”
Aemond adopted a similar arrogant countenance. His was far more deserved. “Alas, my wife’s comfort was of greater importance to me than your patience, Lord Stark.”
Stark’s eyes slid behind Aemond to his ābrazȳrītsos, the feral glint within them softening, then sharpening in something like concern. “Princess,” he said with a deep bow—far deeper than what he gave Aemond, his Prince Regent. “I was not expecting to meet you, but I am very glad of it. I hope you are well?”
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, quiet yet confident. “The journey was long, but I fared well.”
“That is good news.” Cregan arched a thick black brow as he thoroughly examined her, his eyes landing on her belly. “I hope your condition is not giving you too much trouble.”
“She is perfectly well,” Aemond snapped before she could even open her mouth. He did not like the way the wolf looked at her like she needed protection. She was his wife, his to protect. He would not endure the suggestion that he had failed in that duty. Despite what he’d done, she had remained safe.
Her eyes found him, then turned to Stark. She nodded primly, the barest remnants of a smile on her lips. Even as he recalled her old smiles, wide, bright, and perfect, seeing her lift her lips made his heart swell with affection. Perhaps one day, he would see her truly smile once more.
“Let us begin, then.” He led her to the table, seating her at his right hand before taking his place at the head of the table. Stark regarded him with barely disguised disdain but was silent as he continued. “You have been chosen to represent those who foolishly supported my half-sister. By my brother, King Aegon’s grace, you have been granted your lives despite your treason. But our concern now is not revenge, but peace.”
He glanced at his wife, his reason for peace. He would do anything he could to ensure she and their children never again faced war—even this. “What is it you and your allies require to ensure peace?
Stark again donned that wolfish smile, though it faltered slightly when he, too, looked to Aemond’s wife. “We thank you for your… generosity, my prince. But, before we begin any negotiations, I would ask for assurance that whatever terms we agree to will be upheld.”
The nerve to ask for such a thing as the defeated traitor was astounding. Aemond had half a mind to simply kill the man. It would send a message to those who had supported Rhaenyra. Scare them away from further rebellion.
Though perhaps it was not the message he wanted to send. Not the way he wanted to begin his reign.
Not something he wanted his wife – his queen – to witness.
So, he took a deep breath and summoned a matching cocky grin. “You have the assurance of the crown and throne, Lord Stark.”
“And how am I to trust that?” Cregan said, tipping his head so far it rested against the back of his chair. “With your brother… as he is, you are the crown and throne, Prince Aemond. I expect you will have them for yourself soon rather than borrowing them from Aegon. How am I to trust you?”
Cold suspicion crept up Aemond’s spine as Stark again looked at his wife, something like an apology on his face.
It disappeared when he again looked at Aemond. “How am I to trust that you will uphold your promises to me, when you cannot even be trusted to honor your vows to your wife?
He fucking knew. Somehow, he fucking knew.
Aemond would kill him.
He would sew that wolf’s smile shut so he could not scream. He would tear out his eyes and rip out his fingernails. He would use every method of torture he had ever learned of – through his books and his own practical experience – to kill Stark slowly. He may even invent some new techniques of his own.
He would find the person who told him – likely one of the servants in the keep he’d bribed while waiting for Aemond’s arrival – and do the same to them, as he would to anyone who ever spoke a word about it in his wife’s presence. He would –  
The burning rage inside him cooled in an instant, as if smothered by a northern wind. But it was not a cold wind that brushed against his hand – it was the warm, smooth skin of his wife.
While he had become blinded by his anger, she had reached across the table to entwine her fingers with his. Her grip was stiff and too tight, and he could feel her shivering, but she had done it.
She had touched him.
Of her own free will.
Even with all he had done, all the ways he had wounded her, she was still there – still with him, offering her support.
He did not delude himself into thinking it was forgiveness or even a gesture of love. There was no hint of affection in her eyes. For all he knew, she may never touch him again.
But she still stood by his side as his wife. His future queen.
And that simple gesture was enough that the corners of Stark’s mouth turned down, and his swaggering lessened. Aemond beamed at his wife, letting her see all his gratitude and love. She nodded, and he decided that was enough, at least for now.
He turned back to the wolf at the end of the table. “State your terms.”
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The negotiations were still a battle, though they never again came close to physical blows. An agreement was reached, with the crown conceding more than Aemond wanted but less than Stark wanted. No one was happy—a perfect compromise.
When it was over, and Stark rose to leave, Aemond turned to Ronnel, who sat at his left, to make preparations for their departure tomorrow. He wanted everything ready so they could depart at dawn and leave this wretched place behind. But a low voice began murmuring to his right.
Cregan godsdamned Stark was whispering in his wife’s ear.
She did not smile, but her cheeks were flushed. When Stark finally closed his bastard mouth, she whispered something back. The thirst for murder slowly crept back into Aemond’s heart. But then Cregan was walking away, and his wife held his gaze.
“He was only apologizing,” she whispered cautiously. “For what he said, and how it hurt me.”
Of course, Aemond received no such apology. He didn’t want one anyway. He would much rather have Stark’s head on a spike while his body was fed to Vhagar. Fulfilling that wish could wait, if it would ever be possible. Now, she was his only true concern.
“I’m sorry as well, ābrazȳrītsos. You should not have been put in that position.” He reached for her hand, but she stood—without aid, he noted.
She tried and failed to smile. “It wasn’t me he was insulting. Can we go now?”
Ronnel laughed slightly, a paltry attempt at ridding them of the tension. “I’m afraid the horses and wheelhouse won’t be ready until tomorrow, my princess. I can – ”
“That is not what I mean.” He could see her breath quicken as she looked directly at him. “Aemond, I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but ask, couldn’t let this one last opportunity pass him by. “You don’t have to, love.”
Her mouth tightened, and her brows set. “I know, but I want to.”
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There was an open door at the end of the servants’ hall, a fire flickering within.
Alys was expecting them. Had she seen it in a vision, or had the servants from the night before told her?
It didn’t matter, she knew. This would be unpleasant either way. But the thought of Alys knowing how pathetic she’d been the night before still haunted her.
When they were mere paces away from the open door, Aemond said his first words since leaving the great hall: “You do not have to do this, ābrazȳrītsos. We can still turn around.”
She didn’t reply. She had already locked eyes with her husband’s whore as she stepped into the doorway.
Alys was beautiful. Of course she was beautiful. And so different from her.
There was not a single similarity she could find other than the swell of their breasts and bellies from carrying Aemond’s children. Where her hair was pale as the moon, Alys’ was as dark as the night surrounding it. Where her eyes were a warm, deep brown, Alys’ were the cool green of fresh grass. Where she was but a little girl of 17 pretending at womanhood, Alys’ was a woman, with wisdom in her gaze and elegant, dignified lines framing her face to prove it.
Most men would have slighted her in favor of Alys. She just wished Aemond had been stronger than most men.
“My prince,” Alys curtsied as well as she could with her in her state, then turned her eyes to her. “My princess, what a joy it is to meet you at last.”
“Alys,” Aemond growled, stepping between the two women. He began whispering to his mistress so softly that his wife could not understand. It angered her.
“I said –” her voice came out louder than she intended, and the distant noise of conversation from the other servants quieted. That, she had not intended, but at least Aemond and Alys now faced her. “I said I wanted to talk to her, Aemond. Not you.”
His mouth tightened, but he nodded, retreating to stand behind her, still close enough to defend her. Alys smiled at her—not a viper’s smile, leering and poisonous. It was open and kind, as if she were a dear friend rather than the woman who’d slept with her husband and destroyed their marriage.
“Please, come in, princess. I know you must be more comfortable sitting than standing in a hallway.” Though she hated that the woman would dare to make assumptions, it was accurate. Her legs and back were already aching from the walk from the great hall.
Alys opened the door further, ushering them inside. It was a quaint room. Unusually well-appointed with a hearth and seating area, but still obviously a servant’s quarters. Perhaps it had once housed the steward until Alys had become so important to Aemond.
Aemond led her to one of the two stuffed chairs by the hearth, extending a hand to help her sit. She recoiled, eyes flitting to the bed. Had they…?
“Not here,” he whispered, his mouth curling into a frown. “I never… she was always the one to come to me.”
He called her to him like any other servant. He had not sought Alys out himself. It made little difference—he had still summoned her. But it was enough that she accepted his hand and sat, pulling away from him the moment she no longer required his aid.
Alys sat in the chair opposite her, again with that same kind expression. “You have questions for me, yes?”
She nodded, unsure of how else to answer. Alys was not at all what she expected. This was Aemond’s mistress. She had expected a cruel, vain woman who would laugh at her, mock her, and boast that she’d stolen Aemond from her. That was the image she saw when she imagined asking her questions, not this.
“That is quite understandable, dear.” Alys reached out, placing her hand on the arm of the opposite chair, their fingers nearly touching. “I will answer your questions. And I swear, by my own life and that of my child’s, that I will answer truthfully.”
Aemond scoffed quietly, his hand wrapping protectively around the back of the chair. Rage radiated from him, hotter than the fire they faced. She ignored it, and him, entirely.
She believed, once, that she could always trust Aemond. The woman across from her proved otherwise. If the world made so little sense that she could not trust her brother, her husband, her soulmate, then why couldn’t she trust a whore and a witch when she swore on the life of her bastard?
All her questions, all the loose threads she plucked from the story Aemond had woven for her, raced in her mind. Her head began to pulse under the pressure of the storm of anger, devastation, and sadness that raged within her.
But one question returned, over and over again, until it at last reached her lips.
“Did you know about me?”
“I did, my dear. Everyone in the realm and beyond knows of you. The ‘Little Princess,’ they call you.”
“You knew I was – I am – Aemond’s wife?”
Behind her, Aemond stepped forward to stand at her side, a hand extended in question and offering. Offering his support, the strengthening knowledge that he was there for her. The same thing she had given him only hours ago when the peace of the realm teetered on the edge of war.
This time, she did not take his hand.
Alys’ soft smile fell, and what looked to be genuine regret passed over her perfect face. “I did.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“After Aemond gave the order for every man, woman, and child carrying Strong blood was to be killed, my choices were to die with the family who had only ever done precious little for me,” Alys scoffed, as if the possibility was utterly ridiculous, “or to save myself by being whatever your husband wanted me to be. Can you truly fault me for wishing to save my own life?”
No, she couldn’t. If she had been in Alys’ position, she may well have done the same. Had considered it, even, when Rhaenyra and Daemon had taken King’s Landing. To save her children and mother, and to survive until Aemond could rescue them. Fortunately, her uncle had shown no interest in her. Still, she’d been willing to give up that part of her – if it meant keeping the people she loved safe.
“I understand your motivation to save your life,” she said slowly, wetting her lips with her tongue as she glanced up at Aemond, who looked at Alys like he was only barely holding himself back from strangling her. The hand he had not offered her was fisted at his side, knuckles white as bone.
Did hearing how he had been so easily manipulated humiliate him? Did it sting to know that Alys had only truly desired her freedom, not him? That she had used him as much as he had used her?
“I will assure you that I did resist. At least at first.”
In the story Aemond told, Alys was the one who pursued him. He said he spared her because of her visions, not her beauty or any lust for her. Alys was implying she only lain with him because he wanted it, that he was the one who began the affair.
Which was true? Was Alys lying, or Aemond?
Something in Alys’ keen eyes made her think the witch knew her thoughts. “Was he not satisfied with using your powers to aid him in winning the war?”
“My visions can provide guidance, but they are not infallible. And they are not always pleasant. I needed assurance that I would not be killed if the future was altered or if your husband was displeased with what I told him.”
“Surely you could have simply explained this to him,” she mumbled. Aemond was a reasonable man. He would not blame someone for something out of their control—or at least, he had been once.
Alys laughed, quiet and cackling and full of pity. “Oh, my poor dear, you have no idea what your husband became within these walls, do you?”
Aemond stepped forward, a hand on his sword. “Alys…”
She ignored him pointedly. “I know he didn’t tell you in his letters – I was there when he wrote many of them.” A small smile and a smug hum pointed at Aemond as she revealed a piece of what he’d hidden. “But I assumed since he’s now told you about me, he would have told you everything else.”
“Stop, Alys.” Aemond’s voice had grown lower and angrier than she’d ever heard—the voice of the man who had won the war nearly single-handedly, not of her beloved husband and brother. It frightened her. Even when he put a hand on her shoulder, she could not face him, fearing what she would see in that once familiar face.
There was a sickly glint in Alys’ eyes and a curling grin on her full lips. She looked only at Aemond as she spoke. “Did he tell you that he not only gave the order for the entire Strong bloodline be wiped from existence, but that he killed them all himself? Old men, women, and children all died by his sword. No matter how much they begged to be spared or how much they screamed and wept. He was wholly without mercy.” Her mouth hung open, ready to say more, but she glanced back at the princess and quieted, seeing the pain in her eyes.
No, she wanted to say as her stomach turned to burning cold lead. Aemond isn’t so cruel as that. He told her violence was only ever a necessity, not something to be enjoyed. At their wedding tourney –,
Aemond was silent. No rebuttals or denials. Not even an attempt at explanation. He slowly lowered his hand from his sword, as if ashamed to touch it.
That may have been the worst of it, for it meant what Alys was saying was the truth.
Pulling herself out of his grip, she ignored his small grunt of hurt and disbelief, blinked away tears, and fought to keep her voice steady. “Yet he spared you. Because you offered him your visions?”
“Yes, dear.”
She chafed under the seeming affection in Alys’ gaze. This was the woman who had seduced her husband, shared his bed for months, and carried his bastard. Why was she being so godsdamned kind?
“Was it true, then? Your vision about his first battle? That he would need to be fearless going into the battle.” She could feel her entire being trembling with fearful anticipation and guttural rage. “It was because of that vision that you convinced him to bed you, wasn’t it?”
Alys’ eyes flicked to Aemond for the first time since she’d sat down. He tensed behind her with a soft gasp, then a growl.
“It was,” Alys finally said.
“And all the times after?” She heard leather creaking behind her and knew Aemond had dropped his head. “Were there visions for those?”
“I wish I could say there were, if only to spare you from this pain,” Alys sighed, pity practically dripping from her, “but no. I still had visions and shared them with your husband, but none required continued intimacy.”
The stinging tears in her eyes began to fall, and Alys winced at the sight. “I am truly sorry, princess, for the hurt we have caused you. But I cannot regret what I’ve done, for I do believe it saved my life.”
Saved Aemond’s life, as well, if those visions had indeed kept him safe. She again felt that slight tug of gratitude in her chest, only for it to be swallowed by the raging deluge of anger and grief. It threatened to choke her. “And the babe?”
Alys sat back in her seat, absentmindedly stroking where that babe lay. “An unexpected, but not entirely unwanted consequence.”
“You did not drink moon tea?” It was a stupid question, she knew. The evidence that she didn’t was quite visible.
“Such things are luxuries when living in the heart of a war. Those herbs were better used for those who needed them to survive.” Alys’ gaze dropped to where Aemond’s other babes lay. “It took some time, after your wedding, for his seed to take, yes?
Aemond growled again, little better than a guard dog at this point.
Her cheeks flushed. It had taken nearly two years, so long that the maesters began to worry, and the court started whispering. She knew that their grandsire had brought it to the Small Council more than once, and was thankful she was not present – the gods only knew what solutions those men had devised.
“It takes longer for some women than others,” Alys said through a grimace. “It is no shame, merely the unknowable will of the gods.”
“It happened very quickly for you.” In the end, the bastard only proved that whatever had prevented her and Aemond from conceiving was her fault, not his. Perhaps the gods had seen the man he was to become, and those two years were their attempt to push them apart.
Alys thought for a minute, her gaze drifting to the fire between them, turning her eyes into something that did not seem quite human. She frowned, “A stroke of fortune. Good or ill, I cannot decide.”
The witch – for she was indeed a witch, those eyes proved it so – continued to stare into the flames. Aemond again set a hand on his wife’s shoulder, and she wondered whether he considered the bastard to be good fortune. He had not said anything to suggest he was glad of it, but there were memories that suggested he was.
He had learned things from Alys that he tried to use on her. How to hold her to relieve the weight of the babes, and how to cushion her belly when in the carriage. She was sure there was more, perhaps he had done them, and she just hadn’t noticed. But he had held Alys and taken care to protect her child.
It was intimate in a way that suggested they shared more than just sex.
“Does Aemond love you?” Even the crackling of the fire seemed to quiet as the words left her mouth unbidden. But this was the most important question. How deep did Aemond’s betrayal go?
Alys’ answer was just as sudden. “No. Nor I him.”
Her heart pounded to hear those words. Alys had taken so much. Half a year of their lives. Aemond’s touch. The trust between them. But she hadn’t taken Aemond’s heart. That belonged only to her.
Even if she wasn’t sure she wanted it.
She fell silent, considering all she had learned. Aemond fucked Alys, but he didn’t love her. He called her to his room, but her comfortable quarters suggested she didn’t stay with him. He spilled his seed inside her, but took no precautions against siring a bastard. He knew he was to have a child by Alys, but planned to return to his wife. He…
He kept her and the child secret. He had commanded that all those who knew of the affair remain silent, if Ser Willis’ words could be trusted.
Why would he go to such lengths to uphold the secret if he knew he was coming home rather than staying at Harrenhal?
A chill wind passed through her despite the heat of the fire, numbing her, body and soul.
“Did you know Daemon was going to tell me?”
“Ah,” Alys looked ashamed for the first time she had seen. “No. That escaped my vision. It was likely a decision he made just prior to departing for the God’s Eye after I had my initial vision of Aemond’s triumph. And oh, what changes that decision has made.”
That meant… “You believed I wouldn’t find out?”
“Until Aemond returned from the battle, yes.” A humorless laugh. “I was nearly as shocked as him.”
“Then you saw a future where you and your child remained hidden from me.” A statement, not a question, as the truth began to take shape in her mind.
“Yes.”
“Alys, stop.” Aemond had gone entirely still and silent since she asked if he loved Alys. Now, he was frantic and panicked.
She paid him no mind. The truth was in hand, and she would not let it go. “What would have happened? If Daemon hadn’t written that letter?”
“Many things, little one, be more specific.” Alys seemed amused by the turn the line of questioning had taken, almost like a parent helping their child with a logic puzzle.
“Would Aemond…” The words burned in her throat, not the hot burn of anger, but of deathly cold of impending heartbreak. “With you…” she was going to be sick. She could have asked anything else and been fine, but this? She would rather ask how well Aemond had fucked her. “Would it have continued?”
“Ābrazȳrītsos —” He was begging. The man who had slain dragons and burned entire villages was begging, but he did not beg for long.
“Your husband would have taken me back to King’s Landing and brought me into the Red Keep’s household as a wet nurse. I would have nursed your babes and mine, and Aemond would be able to know all his children.”  There was no trace of pride or gloating in Alys’ voice, just the truth. The horrible, horrible truth.
Her tone turned reassuring. “Though, our physical intimacy would not have continued. "When he was finally by your side again, he’d have no use of me in that.” Alys paused, looking once at Aemond. “He does love you, princess. Very much. I’m sorry that I have made you doubt that.”
The bastard would have lived with them. Drank the same milk as her own children. Perhaps even played with them, learned with them. It might even look like them, if it took after its father.
For the first time, she was truly glad for what Daemon had done with his final breaths.
“It was just for the child,” Aemond whispered, his voice utterly broken. “I swear, I… I just wanted to know my child.”
She faced him, feeling nothing at the horror on his face as he fell to his knees beside her. “What about our children? What about me?”
“I thought…” he shook his head as if he did not believe his own words. “I thought that I – ”
“I don’t care, Aemond.” A lie. She cared so much. For him and the love they shared. For the family they were soon to have. For herself. She cared so deeply it felt like a star in her chest, burning with how much she cared.
That star blinked out.
“I don’t care,” she said once more. Then she stood and left the room.
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“You lied.”
“Did I?” Alys’ veneer of benevolent politeness was gone the moment they were alone. She looked at Aemond with cold eyes, not a hint of the affection he once saw, feigned as it was. “Your little wife – ābrazȳrītsos, I believe is the term? – is such a charming little thing. I swore to her that I would tell her the truth. Why would I lie to such a sweet girl?”
This was insufferable. She was insufferable. “When you told her about the vision – your first vision. About Darry. I didn’t notice it when you told me then, but I know you better now.” Fear rose to match the anger in his veins as he stood. “That was a lie.”
Alys looked away. The bitch looked away from him to hide the twist of her lips as she looked into the fire. “You won the battle, didn’t you?”
It was a lie. A lie that had destroyed him. Destroyed his life. Destroyed his ābrazȳrītsos. And it was all a godsdamned lie.
He would never have pursued Alys himself. She pursued him, told him that he needed to be relaxed and without fear to win the battle and spare the bulk of his men. When he had not been able to calm himself, it was she who offered her aid.
He had not known what she meant by that, pushed her away when she first tried to kiss him. He’d wrapped a hand around her throat when she first reached out to touch him. He was going to choke her, kill her.
“It won’t mean anything, my prince,” she said when she snuck her hand between his legs. His body trembled at the touch—it had been so long since he had been touched this way. His ābrazȳrītsos had been too ill from the babe she carried, and he would never force her. He had to admit the pleasure cleared his mind. “I merely wish to help you.”
She only ever meant to help herself, not him or his men. And he had been the fool who fell for her act. Again and again.“How many of your ‘visions’ were lies?”
Alys didn’t even play at coyness. She outright grinned as she poked the fire. “Perhaps half. Perhaps more.”
“You vile whore,” he spat with all the venom he could summon.
“Careful what you say, Aemond,” her tone remained sickeningly sweet, her eyes fixed on the fire. “After all, you are the man who fucked this ‘vile whore.’ Over and over again, while that sweet thing,” she pointed her chin at the door, “was frightened and alone.”
Aemond’s breath left in a rush. “You knew she was sick?”
Alys scoffed. “She’s not sick, you stupid boy, just pregnant. It is more difficult for some women than for others. Although the stress of the war likely did not help.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” If he had only known… if, if, if, his entire life reduced to two letters. Damn the word.
“You would have left if you knew, leaving me to fend for myself.” She shrugged casually, but it did not belie the slight sagging of her shoulders. “Besides, I knew she would be well again.”
“A vision?
She smiled wistfully. Any other man would find it a beautiful sight. It made him want to kill her slowly. “Oh, what a lovely vision it was. You arrived home late in the night while she was brushing her hair. I’ve never seen such happiness as when she saw you in the mirror. Your presence alone restored her vitality. When I saw her again after she’d birthed your sons, she was strong and radiant. From Maiden to Mother.”
A crushing in his chest, pain and joy joined as one terrible whole. “‘Sons?’”
Alys looked at him then, no malice or disdain in her gaze. “Yes, she will deliver you two sons.”
Two babes. Two sons. Two heirs.
Their line would be secure with two trueborn princes. The people would take it as an omen that the gods had blessed them, and few would dispute their rule. There would be no need for further children unless something should happen to the boys. Aemond would never let anything happen to them.
There would be no need for his wife to remain in his bed.
It was his punishment, he supposed. He would have the throne and the family he always coveted at the cost of his wife’s love.
“Will they be healthy?” It was good, he told himself. He deserved this punishment, after all, and she deserved to be free of him, as much as a queen can be free of her king. So long as their sons – their bloodline – were strong.
“They were in my vision, but now that future is changed,” Alys looked back at the fire, poking at it as if searching for something. “I have not seen what will now be.”
“Try.” The babes had to be healthy after all they’d put their mother through. She must not suffer any more than she already had – at their hands or Aemond’s.
She could not bear the loss of a son. Neither could he.
“You know it doesn't work like that, Aemond. I swear, if I could see it, I would tell you.” Again, she scoured the wood and ash and flame. “But when I looked into the fire after you flew south, all I saw was smoke.”
“You lied then. You could be lying now.” He knew she wasn’t. He prayed she was.
“I give my word that this is the truth.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Aemond, this only means I cannot see what will happen. It doesn’t mean that they will not –”
“Do not speak to me!” He roared as he hadn’t since he was told Daemon and Rhaenyra had taken King’s Landing. It felt like fire was trying to burn its way out of his throat. “Do not speak to me ever again or show your face before me. If you do, I…”  
Alys laid a hand on her belly, and he recoiled in shame. To banish her would also be to banish her child—his child.
He shouldn’t care for a bastard, he knew. It was a stain on his honor, a permanent reminder that he was not the man he hoped he would be, the man his ābrazȳrītsos deserved. But it was also his child—his blood.
His eye burned in such pain he could hardly feel his zaldrīzītsos squeezing his hand while she wept. But it was nothing to the gaping hole in his chest where he once hoped his father would lay.
The old man would not even look at him. He appeared as if his greatest concern wasn’t the damage to his son but that he longed for his bed. When Aemond’s mother begged for justice, his father looked on her as if she were mad.
“He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”
Aemond swore he would not be like his father. He knew what it was to be neglected by those he shared blood with and couldn’t stand the thought of doing it himself.
Yet he had also sworn to do anything for his ābrazȳrītsos’ happiness.
“I will send funds for the child’s care,” his voice was weak now that his inner fire had faded. “But I forbid you from naming me as the father to anyone on pain of death.”
“You would condemn your child to fatherlessness?”
The fire roared back to life, as large as the swaths of destruction he had laid across the Riverlands.
He approached Alys with his dagger in hand, unaware of when he had drawn it. “It is only because of the child that I do not slit your throat here and now. Be grateful for what I am giving you. It is well beyond what most whores receive for their bastards.”
Aemond stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He shut his eye and breathed heavily. In. Out. In. Out. Only when he had calmed – enough that he was no longer on the precipice of violence – did he look down the hall, only to find it empty.  “Ābrazȳrītsos?”
There was no reply. Until –
“Aemond!” Her voice was strained, desperate, and, worst of all, followed by a long moan of pain.
He screamed her name as he ran toward her voice. Why was she in pain? Was she ill again? It had never happened before night fell, as far as he knew. Had someone hurt her? Alys? Stark? He’d kill them – slowly, painfully, without mercy. He’d –
She was slumped against the wall. Her sweet face was flushed and scrunched with pain, her mouth open as she moaned. But there was no hint of injury. She looked whole.
Then, Aemond saw it.
There was a steadily growing pool of liquid surrounding her. Not blood, thank the gods, but… Alys once said there was a release of fluid when a woman began her labors.
No. No. It was too early. The babes were not ready yet. If they were born now, they would not survive. They would be like Rhaenyra’s daughter Visenya – weak and deformed. They would have scales or horns or tails or talons, perhaps even malformed wings.
They couldn’t come now. They couldn’t. Not only for their sake, but if they had those horns or talons, they could kill their mother as they ripped their way out of her.
Aemond couldn’t let it happen. There had to be something he could do, some way he could –
She screamed.
It was the worst sound he’d ever heard. It tore at his chest like a storm ravaged a ship. He could not move, not until he saw her legs wobble as she braced herself against the wall. She was going to fall. He ran forward to catch her, screaming himself.
“Ābrazȳrītsos!”
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