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#i will now proceed to go back to the dead
ladykailitha · 2 days
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Paper Hearts Part 1
Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).
So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.
I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.
Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.
Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.
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Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:
PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL
Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.
There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.
He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.
Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.
“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.
Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.
He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.
He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.
There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.
And Steve hoped it was a good day.
****
Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.
He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.
Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.
Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.
He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.
He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.
“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”
A couple of kids snickered.
“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.
That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.
Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.
“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”
“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.
The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”
“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”
The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”
He nodded.
“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.
When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”
Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”
Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”
“323B.”
“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”
Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”
Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”
This time it was Harrington who winced.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”
Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.
“Shit.”
Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”
Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.
“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.
Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.
“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”
“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”
Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.
“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”
“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.
Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.
Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.
“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”
Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”
He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”
Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”
And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.
And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.
****
Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.
Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.
Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.
He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.
So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.
He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.
Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.
He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.
Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!
Now that was an idea.
He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.
A smile spread over his face.
That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.
He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.
Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.
He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.
****
Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.
He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.
They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.
The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.
And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.
Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.
But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.
To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?
Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.
But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.
He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.
He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.
“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”
Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.
“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”
“What did you do?”
So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”
“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”
Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.
“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.
Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.
It would just have to wait until Monday.
****
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theminecraftbee · 5 hours
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just revisited scs, and was wondering if pearl still joins hermitcraft in season 8 as she does? and if so, what are three's thoughts and feelings on this? if we go by hermitcraft rules, it'd have to had voted her in, and it does care about pearl in some capacity due to her link with martyn and jimmy so it'd want her somewhere safe, but is their relationship still rocky at that point? has it gotten better? and how does it evolve through their time on hermitcraft? is boatem still a thing, or do three and pearl give each other more space?
sorry if you've answered something like this before, but i'm curious
so here's how it goes in my head, although as always, anyone is free to have their own headcanons for it:
so by season eight, given the messy timeline i've created, three has had some time and distance. additionally, i like to think that it and everyone else DID keep up their promises to stay in contact. pearl and three's relationship will probably never be as close as pearl and grian's, but pearl is TRYING and three is willing to give her a shot when they're not standing right next to each other and she isn't in the middle of grief as much, so they form a tentative bond.
pearl doesn't join season eight because of three; three doesn't invite her. however, i'd like to think that pearl, maybe on the prodding of "her friends are actually talking to her again", has tentatively started doing her own builds again and showing them off and something like that dragon build of her blows up. so when names are being floated for season eight, and someone's already floated gem as a possibility, someone says pearl's name. and three doesn't know. three doesn't know if they'll be able to handle each other living on the same server. but it's now been at least a year and a half since scs and with scs's messy timeline probably longer, right. three is much more self-assured and has a better idea of who it is. and like, it thinks about it, but maybe pearl gives away she's still living on evo in a call, and three thinks about it, and...
the thing is: three had needed someone to say "you can come here when you run away" two years ago about the same thing. it can at least try.
this is to say: pearl joining hermitcraft is not three's idea or three's invitation. but three gives her its endorsement, and eventually its vote. pearl joins in season eight. three and pearl then proceed to try to completely avoid each other for like, at least a month. i don't want to take pearl and impulse bonding away from the world, so i think maybe pearl still bases near there, but the friendship groups in three's timeline are a little shifted ANYWAY, even if they're similar, so we can shift people around a little. maybe three drags mumbo off to go follow iskall and etho into the shattered savannah. god, can you imagine, actually, that would be hysterical.
but the thing is, even though the hermits spend a lot of time alone, they also spend a lot of time together, and like... three IS friends with impulse. and it is Conspicuous that they're avoiding each other, and they can't do it forever. it's pearl who screws her courage to the sticking place first and invites three to help her with an interior room of her build. three, not actually quite good enough at emotions to recognize "here come do an interior, thing i know grian hated but you like" as the very deliberate olive branch it is but good enough at emotions to know it probably shouldn't avoid, accepts.
and it goes... well. it surprises both of them how well it goes, actually. maybe it shouldn't; they've been in contact after all, and they've had time to soothe and process their relationship. they part back to their own bases again with the promise to do it again, and they do not avoid each other for the rest of the season. they don't seek each other out, often--they're not quite ready for that--but they don't avoid each other, either.
it's not perfect. pearl still sometimes looks at three like she's looking at a dead man. three still sometimes wants to scream when she does.
but there are many times, now, when they can forget how they met in the first place, and just chat about build pallets and pranks and shapes and llamas and everything else together.
that's close enough to healing.
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t0ast-ghost · 2 days
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S3 episode 4 (And The Children Shall Lead) I'll explain what happened to episode 3 under the cut of this post.
Start here:
- The three of them beaming down together is a good start
- Guys they're not dead!… they’re just sleepy
- Kirk is not amused
- As much as I want to believe Kirk would be good with children, it’s proven (canonically) he is not
- “I am getting a feeling of anxiety in this place.” This reminds me of a good omens line. If ya know, ya know.
- I love nurse chapel. The medical department being good with kids is heartwarming
- Is this a Peter Pan situation? (edit: nope)
- So why are the kids chanting and summoning an entity? Let's not have to call the exorcist.
- “Have Dr. McCoy report to my quarters.” Yeah…?
- We get to watch Sulu press buttons and turn dials :)
- Uhura’s double take
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- “You’re losing control of yourself, sir.” “Not yet.” Scotty then proceeds to fight two guys and get knocked out
- “The enemy from within!” Previous episode mention
- That’s horrific. The children controlling their parents caused them to die on Triacus. Star Trek can write some pretty fucked up shit actually. But it doesn't deal with the consequences.
- McCoy’s opinion is outnumbered two to one again so he just storms out
- They just beamed those two redshirts out into space…
- “Friendly angel come to me.”
youtube
- Kirk and Spock share a look like, ‘what the fuck is going on’
- Spell that makes you see knives in space
- Poor Uhura. No one wants to see their own death, but amazing acting
- “Captain, why are we bothering starfleet?” Spock too? Kirk you gotta go find McCoy, maybe he’ll be talking some sense
- So why haven’t I seen anyone talk about this?
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- “My Vulcan friend.” Yep Kirk. Reassert your friendship.
- Spock grabs Kirk’s arm to reassure him
- WOAH! He jumped to killing kids way too fast (worst case scenario stun or hypo them! Jesus)
- Kirk has had to remind himself that it’s not okay to punch a child a few too many times in this episode (I can see it in his eyes)
- He’s playing the video of all the kids playing with their parents on Triacus and they’re smiling but I’m expecting Kirk to just say ‘and now.. your parents are dead.’ - omg they really did just switch suddenly to their DEAD PARENTS. No remorse.
- This episode is fucking devastating
- Bones is going to come back from wherever the fuck he is and just, 'Jim, I specifically told you not to traumatize these kids.'
- The ‘angel’ dying is fucking horrifying
Now everything’s fine and dandy. Not like the entire bridge just went through major mind fuck of an ordeal or anything
Masterpost
Episode written by Edward J. Lakso
So I didn't actually watch episode 3, I watched around 15 minutes and then said, 'I really just don’t want to watch this episode. So I won’t.'
Only thoughts from this episode that I'm gonna mention are:
- The reason that they didn't let Spock point out the pine trees is because he would have said their scientific name
- “Typical human reaction to an idyllic natural setting.” McCoy says this with so little bite towards Spock, like he’s actually having a conversation with him and explaining what it is. AHH
- They could have easily left McCoy on the planet to search for Jim while Spock goes to divert the asteroid. If being alone was the issue they could've beamed down a security officer/team
Other than that... there's nothing. Sorry Margaret Armen.
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coping with my anxiety by thinking about funny lizard absent father
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uravichii · 1 year
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pov: you're drop-dead gorgeous (and they don't know how to deal with it)
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character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto
genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there's no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕
notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you're so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️
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bakugo katsuki thinks you're so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he'd watch intently the way you'd smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there's even anything to fix. he'll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), "tell me why you're so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!"
bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he's just mesmerized by the whole thing.
"katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we're gonna be late."
his only response is: "fuck off."
because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. "tch, you don't even need any of this shit."
"you don't like it, katsuki?" you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.
"h-hah?! i didn't say that!" he shoves it to your hand, "now do this glittery shit next!"
and you just ditch whatever plans you'd made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he'll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn't know how he just let it happen but he's like, "whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n."
he then proceeds to tell you that, "every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness."
"forgive them for what?"
he stares blankly at you. "for breathing the same air as you."
bakugo katsuki's not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.
and of course, he captions it, "u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n."
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shinsou hitoshi is convinced he's dating a model. he doesn't know how it happened, but he is a little proud of whatever the hell was in him that managed to rizz you up.
he thinks you look amazing in absolutely anything. so when you go clothes shopping together, he casually picks up all types of clothes from the racks until there's a whole pile of them in his arms.
when you shoot him a questioning look about it, he only says, "think you'll look amazing in these, babe."
he also picks up some accessories and just wears them on youー hats, sunglasses, hair pins, and you just let him because each time you let him accessorize you, he gives those little comments like, "amazing." "cute" "this one's tacky; i put it on you as a joke but you pull it off for some reason." "yes. slayed." he made you wear cat ears one time and he just melts right there, immediately taking a photo of you for his new lockscreen.
it bothers shinsou hitoshi a lot when people stare at you even when they can clearly see his hand on the small of your back. he'll slide closer to you and kiss the top of your head all the while he gives them a death stare he wishes he could do more.
he squeezes your waist a little to call your attention.
"hm? what's up, hitoshi?"
he looks at you blankly, taking in your features in awe as if for the first time again. then he stuffs your face into his chest, your legs staggering as you grab a hold of his forearms.
"hey, what are you doing?" you giggle in his chest. he's relieved you can't see his flushed cheeks. "hitoshiii"
"you're too good for this world, y/n. i need to start gatekeeping you."
what blows shinsou hitoshi's mind the most is how you're probably unaware of your effect on him, no matter how many times he's called you all synonyms of the word, 'beautiful'
he's sat on the couch, a tiny smile of adoration tugging on his lips when he sees you running up to him. your eyes brim with excitement as you call his name, truly the prettiest ones he's ever seen.
"something happened?ー" he pauses when you lean your face so close to his. he sinks back into the couch as the tips of ears start to turn red.
it takes a moment until he realizes that you're showing off the purple eyeshadow you had done on yourself, batting your eyelashes at him as you wait for his response bc right now he's just staring at you like 😦💘‼️‼️‼️
"it's the one you picked out from the mall yesterday. is it pretty?"
"y/n." his hands slowly find their way to your waist, "i don't believe you're real sometimes. you are possibly the most beautiful person i've ever seen."
"really?"
"god," he pulls you by the waist until you're sat on his lap, your legs straddling him. "you have no idea."
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remember how bakugo said all those extras should be groveling at your feet and worshipping you? yeah, it's kaminari denki. he worships you.
he thinks you're beautiful and he's LOUD about it.
he's constantly bragging about you to his friends and showing off your photos (if you're comfy w/ that), "oh this? oh yeah, this is is y/n, the coolest, funniest, drop dead gorgeous, most ethereal person on earth and they're dating ME."
and bakugo would just grab his phone and knock it against his head with a thud 🤕, "WE FUCKING GET IT. NOW, SHUT UP, DUMBASS."
he'll rub his head while cackling, "whatever, i'm dating Y/N. who cares about anything if you're dating y/n?"
kaminari denki doesn't love you just for your beauty though. you're not just some eye candy to him. if someone ever called you one though, you bet he's zapping their ass and with the whole bakusquad by his side because somehow they feel obligated to protect you now too. 🧍‍♀️ (denki's effect)
and just as much as he compliments your beauty everyday, he never forgets to let you know how beautiful your heart is too. in fact, he calls you 'angel' because how could someone be this beautiful and be so kind and caring to him at the same time?
"sometimes.." he looks up pensively from his lap where you lay your head, "i feel like i've been blessed by the heavens when i got to date you.
"denkiー"
"don't even think i'm exaggerating, y/n!" he pokes your cheek when you turn your head to look at him, "you're amazing. i don't know what i did for you to give me a chance."
there are times though when a part of kaminari denki feels a little insecure because he thinks he looks quite stupid next to you, and it doesn't help either that the bakusquad never lets him hear the end of it 😔
"denki, you don't look stupid because you're next to me. you do that on your own."
"aww, thank yー hol' up." 🤨
he's pouting but you immediately wipe that off by apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, ending it with a loud smooch on his lips with a "mmmwah!"
kaminari denki now can't remember what you're even apologizing for in the first place.
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you and todoroki shouto are so beautiful, the visuals are blinding 😩 you'd walk to your classroom together, him opening the door for you and you smiling at him, lovingly squeezing his arm as a silent 'thank you,' and people just stare with their mouths agape, not knowing who exactly to be jealous of.
shouto definitely stares the most though until it concerns midoriya, "t-todoroki-kun, you haven't moved in three minutes. are you okay?" because he might as well have drawn hearts on his eyes and stab an arrow to his heart with the way he looks at you.
todoroki shouto always kisses your eyes, nose, cheeks, hair, and your lips, of course, just to let you know how beautiful he thinks they are.
he thinks whatever you do or wear is so pretty, hence, the many, many photos of you on his phone. his lockscreen changes every 2 days because everyday he just gets a prettier shot of you, and he always shows them to you and to his friends and siblings ☹️ because everyone, including you, should appreciate what a beauty you are!
"this looks great! you'd make a great photographer, shouto" you lean in to kiss his cheek, immediately sending a flush across his face.
"well..." he looks to the ground, the feeling of your lips still lingering on his right cheek. "that's all you... you're beautiful. i don't know how it has anything to do with me, but thank you."
and then he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to silently ask for another kiss. you laugh softly at this, and when you cup his cheeks in your hands and start planting kisses all over his face the way he does to you, shouto confirms it in his mindー y/n is an angel.
todoroki shouto would get a little overboard with the photos though because he'll spam that button and keep every single one. when you ask why keep the blurry ones, he explains, "that's still a photo of you. why would i delete it?"
he also has a photo of his point of view from when he had his head on your lap. he said he wanted to capture "the happiest moment of his life." you convince yourself it's sweet but it's literally just a photo of your chin in a weird angle.
"shouto, that's just my chin."
he looks at you dead in the eye. "y/n, you have a lovely chin."
you call him a weirdo, which surprises him a little, but then you drape your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all over his face again because who else in the world would say that to you?
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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Would they or would they not catch you…
Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.
He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.
‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.
‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.
‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.
You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.
Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀
Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.
He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.
‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.
‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.
You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.
Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.
However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.
Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.
‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.
‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.
Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.
What a sweetheart.
Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.
Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”
( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)
Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
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Side Effect
Summary: Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Feral Miguel. Rutting Miguel (side effect of the serum he takes). HEAVY breeding kink. Creampie. Fangs. Hormonal manipulation (mention of serums being injected).
You paced hurriedly through the long corridors of HQ determined to get an answer.
A proper one.
If Miguel O’Hara was growing tired of your casual relationship with him, he’d have to tell that to your face instead of avoiding you.
This had been going on for a couple of days, and you patience was now hanging by a thread. You had tried to reach him through your watch, but he’d either ignore you, or have Lyla come up with ridiculous excuses.
“Visiting Peter and MJ my ass,” you grumbled under you breath, your paces echoing loudly.
The moment you were met with the lab door shut, you stopped dead in your tracks.
That was weird.
“What?”
Approaching the scanner on the wall, you reached out your arm, allowing the sensor to read your dimensional travel watch.
<ACCESS DENIED>
That was really weird.
You flicked your wrist again, but were met with the same message.
This had to be Miguel’s poor idea of a joke, because it made no sense that he’d restrict your access to the very place you worked at.
Letting out a strained breath, you tapped on your watch, hoping to reach Miguel.
But it was Lyla’s orange hologram that emerged instead.
“What’s up, sugar?” she beamed happily, filing her nails.
You scowled. “I was calling Miguel.”
“He has redirected every contact to me,” she shrugged, checking each nail individually.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why can’t I get in?”
“That’s classified.”
“Classified?”
She nodded with an obnoxious smile that only served to grind your nerves. “I work here.”
“So does Miguel and he is working now,” she said with another shrug.
Anger flared inside you as your worst fears were confirmed.
He was avoiding you in particular.
“Can you just open the door?”
“No.”
“Please?”
Her eyes narrowed behind her heart-shapped glasses. “No.”
“I really need to talk to him.”
Adjusting her long coat, she clicked her tongue. “I can pass him a message.”
That wasn’t good enough and he would just ignore it as usual.
“Lyla…” you started, putting on your most convincing fake smile with an equally forced sweet voice to match. “You know I’ve always like you, right?”
The AI scoffed. “Nah, flattery doesn’t work on me, sugar. It wasn’t programmed into my coding,” she grinned deviously. “But you’re free to suggest that Miguel adds it in a future patch.”
You shot her a death glare. “Fine. Just… tell him I’m here and… yeah…” your voice trailed off.
She winked. “Gotcha!”
The hologram disappeared at once and you were left staring at the large metal door in front of you.
You waited for a couple of minutes, before realising she wasn’t coming back with an answer, as you had expected.
A random thought crossed your mind when your eyes landed on the scanner, reminding you that there was another way in.
Miguel would probably get really angry that you were about to activate the emergency protocol, but you couldn’t care less at this point.
Tapping the pattern onto the pad above the scanner, you couldn’t help but to feel victorious as the door swung open, alarms blaring and a mechanical voice echoing through the lab.
“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”
You only made it a few steps past the door, before something — or rather someone — flung you across the room with the weight of their body keeping you pinned against a wall.
A muscled forearm was at your throat, effectively caging you in.
“What the fuck?”
“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”
The red alarm lights rotated hurriedly on the ceiling, but you were able to identify Miguel, as his weight dug further into you.
“What are you doing here?” he growled, the eyes on his mask narrowing menacingly.
Something wasn’t right.
Your spider senses detected an alarming accelerated heart rate from him, as well as increased body temperature.
“Miguel, let go! It’s me,” you grunted, clawing at his arm to alleviate the pressure.
“I know it’s you,” he said lowly, the digital mask vanishing.
From the corner of your eyes you saw him baring his fangs, droplets of paralysing poison dripping.
His pupils were fully blown and you felt fear rise inside you. “What are you doing?!”
As if your voice had managed to snap him out of it, he eased the pressure on you and took a few steps back.
“Lyla, deactivate the emergency protocol and resume the serum synthesis.”
“Got it, Miguel!”
The alarm was turned off immediately and silence took place.
Your breath was coming out in shallow pants, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
Was he that angry that he had gone completely feral?
“Miguel… what…”
He turned his back on you and paced to a nearby centrifuge, the screen atop announcing: <DNA stabilising sequence at 24%>
What was he doing?
“Leave.”
“Can we just talk?” you said, still keeping your distance. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but barring my access-“
Miguel turned around to face you, a deep scowl had settled on his face, twisting his lips.
The glare he gave you was enough to send shivers down your spine.
“I need you gone. Now.”
Fuck. Was he that over you that he couldn’t even stand your presence around?
He had shortened the distance between you two, crimson eyes never leaving yours.
“Why? If you don’t want to be with me just say that,” you groaned in frustration. “Don’t stare at me like you’re about to split me in half. It won’t work.”
Miguel had effectively managed to have your back hit the nearby wall once more, just from the weight of his stare alone.
“I told you to leave. I can’t have you around me.”
“Oh, great!” you scoffed. “Thanks for being so direct.”
Miguel didn’t stop moving until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I don’t. We’re both adults, so you could have just said this a couple of days ago instead of acting like I’m some nuisance.”
His hand came to grip your jaw and you widened your eyes. “You’re on birth control, right?”
“What…”
He took a deep breath, fangs grazing his lower lip. “Answer me.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Wait… was he scared that he might have knocked you up?
His fingers loosened and he pressed his forehead to the wall right beside your head, groaning out loud.
“Miguel… what is going on?”
You wanted to him a comfort squeeze on his arm, but were too frozen to move.
“Why… why do you have to be on birth control?”
Was he pulling your leg? Was this his twisted version of a joke?
This time, you frowned. “What do you mean why? I don’t want to get unexpectedly pregnant.”
Miguel punched the wall with such force it dented the material and making you jolt.
“I’m rutting.”
Your eyes darted to his face as he straightened up, pupils still dilated and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
“What… rutting?” you asked, mouth dropping open in confusion.
He growled impatiently. “Side effect of my serum. I usually have an antidote at hand when this happens, but I ran out of one of the components…” he paused briefly as if struggling to breath properly. “I had to go to Peter B’s Earth to get more.”
Oh. So that hadn’t been one of Lyla’s ridiculous lies.
You glanced over at the nearby screen:
<DNA stabilising sequence at 34%>
Oh.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” you asked, wanting to bring him some comfort somehow. “We’ve been together for a few months.”
“It was never necessary. I always had the neutraliser for my serum at hand.”
You bit your lip.
He let out a low dark chuckle. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to breed you.”
This definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear from Miguel O’hara himself, and it made your heart skip a beat.
His arms were caging you, his talons digging deep into the metal right next to your head.
“Is… huh… is there anything I can do?” you asked in a whisper. “I mean… in the lab.”
He pressed his lower half into you at once. “Let me breed you.”
You flinched as his hard cock dug into your crotch and you let out a gasp.
“Can’t you just wait for the synthesis to be over?”
The sound of the metal being shredded tore through your ears and his lips nearly brushed yours. “I told you to leave, but you’re too stubborn, aren’t you?”
His breath was hot and you felt goosebumps rise throughout your body.
“Always running that mouth,” he growled, eyes landing on your lips. “Always defying me… and now I really, really need to breed you.”
For some twisted reason, his words and cock twitching against you were slowly swallowing your mind, causing you to abandon reason.
Miguel was a very dedicated lover, but you had never witnessed such yearning from him.
That was a novelty and it was doing wonders to your ego.
Even if there was a scientific explanation, you could help but plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “You can’t breed me… I’m on birth control.”
His hand came to grip your chin again and you saw anger flicker in his eyes. “There’s ways around that.”
Your eyes widened.
He wasn’t being serious…
… was he?
“Miguel…”
The grip tightened and he rolled his hips. “Let me. Please.”
You knew exactly what he was talking about. He had developed a serum that would neutralise all hormonal manipulation as a way to reset your body in case a spider needed to be injected with a serum.
You had helped him develop it.
Its efficacy neared 90%.
You guessed this neutraliser wasn’t able to prevent the side effects from his very specific serum.
And now he wanted to use it on you, so he could successfully breed you.
“Are you sure?” you asked, not sure why agreeing to this in the first place was sending such an adrenaline rush through your veins.
Miguel moved away from you, bolting to one of the desks, rummaging through the drawers.
You swallowed hard, but remained glued to the wall, heart hammering fast in your chest.
<DNA stabilising sequence at 41%>
In a blink of an eye, he was on you again, holding the syringe in his trembling hand. “I’m desperate, but I need your words first.”
You clenched and felt wetness spilling from you.
How was this so arousing?
“What words?”
He moved to place a quivering kiss to your forehead and you saw the liquid wobble inside the container.
“That’s… not the compound we synthesised.”
“It’s more than that,” he said with another kiss. “It stimulates your ovaries.”
Oh… fuck.
He trailed kisses down your face, before pecking your lips. “I have to breed you. Successfully.”
Your legs nearly gave out at his confession and you nearly moaned as he ripped your suit to gain access to your bicep.
“Tell me I can do this.”
His cock was nudging you again as a reminder of his desire, and you nodded.
“No. Say it.”
He was rubbing your skin with his thumb right where he intended to inject the serum.
“Go ahead.”
“Gracias,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your forehead.
At this point, you were far too drunk in lust to think clearly and your lips parted in a pained moaned as you felt a sharp jab in your arm. He kept his lips on you as reassurance, as the liquid tore through your muscle.
Your heartbeat skyrocketed straight away.
You felt your knees buckle under you, but Miguel steadied you with both arms. “I got you.”
A gasp quickly turned into a moan as the effect of the serum consumed you with each passing second.
He trailed his hands down your body and gripped your hips.
“Turn around.”
You let him guide you, biting down hard on your lower lip, you panties sticking to your soaked folds.
More ripping sounds filled the air as Miguel tried to get rid of your suit, exposing your underwear to him.
You balled your fists and felt one hand on your lower back, adding light pressure. “Bend over.”
Doing as commanded, you felt more wetness spill from you as your body readied itself for Miguel.
The pressure increased. “More.”
Your panties were torn apart right away and you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Miguel’s fangs peeking through his lips.
His thumb dragged along your folds, teasing your swollen clit and earning a whimper from you.
“Sorry, but I really need to be inside you,” he grumbled and you nodded.
Your heart skipped several beats, as you tried to control your breathing in anticipation.
The tip of his cock was soon pressed against your opening, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
“I’m sorry.”
Before you could inquire what he meant, your mouth fell open as he rammed inside you, bottoming out at once.
He didn’t wait for your to recover from the initial shock, and began pumping into you so ferociously, you had to grab a hold on the metal railing to your right to keep yourself from losing balance.
Miguel heaved a heavy sigh of relief as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this sensation.
Grunts and groans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.
“Should have bred you sooner…” he managed to say in between snaps of his hips. “Developed that serum just for you…”
Miguel’s idea of dirty talk was effective. Too effective, because you couldn’t hold back from clenching hard around him, savoring the friction and feel of being stuffed full of him.
He picked up the pace and you thought you were going to die.
Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was too overwhelming, and your body was responding to his in a way you had never experienced before.
You felt your lower abdomen coil at the sides and figured the serum had reached its target destination.
Miguel gripped both your arms and you let go of the railing, as he tugged hard to have your back smack against his hard chest.
“You’re so lucky this rut didn’t hit me harder,” he growled, hips never faltering. “I was barely able to control myself around you…”
Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned loudly, feeling his pectoral muscles press into your back. This man was too hot and you found yourself thinking that not being bred by him would be a waste.
That genetic material deserved to be spread.
“Being on birth control with me…” he said through gritted teeth, and you felt his fangs nipping your ear lightly. “You. Deserve. To. Be. Bred.” he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.
An intense wave of pleasure pulsated from your clit, and you recognised the familiar strings of an orgasm pulling you in and embracing you gentle with each stroke.
“Miguel…” you moaned, blinded by lust and desire.
The grip on your arms loosened briefly and he let your torso lean forward ever so slightly, angling your hips in a way that made him his cock hit you over and over again just where you needed the most.
“I want you full with my babies,” he gasped.
Your orgasm hit you with such force, you thought you were going to collapse and slide off his cock, but he wrapped one arm around you, not allowing you to part from him.
“You feel so good… tighter… tighter,” he urged, as your walls contracted around him rhythmically, faintly at first, but the next stronger than the one before.
You were far too gone to form any words and just let your lips part as an intense moan ripped through your throat.
Miguel was mumbling something behind you, but you couldn’t make out any words as you descended from your height.
Even through quivering legs and pulsing clit, you were able to feel it.
He was now pumping you full with broken snaps of his hips.
You glanced down and saw strings of cum dripping from where he was connected with you.
So much cum.
He wasn’t even slowing down, as he’d usually do at this stage.
Miguel kept on ramming into you from behind, sending more and more cum to drip from within you.
An animalistic growl left his mouth as he finally came to a halt, breathing hard.
He remained balls deep inside you, and you planted on hand on the wall to look in absolute awe at the cum dripping and dangling from your clit, a pool of it now at your feet.
“How did you cum so much?” you managed to say in between laboured breaths.
“I’m rutting, cariño. My body produces more,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.
You glanced to the screen nearby.
<DNA stabilising sequence at 100%>
“Maybe you can take the neutraliser now?
He slid his cock out of you halfway, before slamming it back, and you felt more cum spill out. “I don’t think so.”
Oh, you were utterly fucked.
In every sense of the word.
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zeitztun · 7 months
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ik this is known but no successful settler colony has reached relative "internal stability" without genocide. north america is the first example of this that comes to mind: during the early years all up to the 19th cent., wars and attacks between native americans and settlers were frequent. and yes, while the settler armies were more well armed and more powerful, the native americans were a great force against the european invasions and did cause casualties among white populations, "including civillians", and halted expansion and development for many of the colonies.
this was met in 2 ways:
federal programs sponsored by the colonial states (violent deculturation, seperation from families through residential & boarding schools, expulsion from ancestral lands and destruction of the indigenous identity)
and unofficial, "individual" settler and enlistee actions of massacres upon indigenous populations. these events obviously were never prosecuted because they worked in tandem with the colonial powers, supported and encouraged by them.
the extermination of the american indigenous people wasn't just a facet of american success but the foundation of it. if they weren't subject to the genocide, the wealth and vast land in north america wouldn't have reached the white populations and the continent would be unrecognizable today, with canada and the united states not slightly as globally influencial as they are today. imagine a usa reliant on tourism.
and ik this is all elementary level information, but israel mirrors this entire process in eery similarity, with ancient, ancestral lands seized from palestenians exploited and destroyed for capital gains following violent expulsions (the nakba created israel). palestinians remaining within the israeli border endure lynchings and attacks by settlers as well as repression and persecution under federal law. israel was founded on the same colonialist principles that america and other european settler colonies (algeria, mozambique, kenya) were: their survival just depended on how far they would go to destroy the indigenous population.
what im dreading is that israel is on course to go further and proceed with that destruction. we are currently is a uniquely horrifying moment: 2,600 dead palestenians and 6,000 in hospitals with 0 supplies and 0 power - and the ground assault following the impossible evacuations is looming. the massacres about to sweep palestinian lands with the gifting of the ten thousand rifles to settlers. the unprovoked, unwarned and constant airstrikes. the monolithic, hysteric nature of mainstream western media. the army's sentiment of hunting animals. the global unrepentant backing. the repeated promise of complete victory.
what would complete victory mean? you cannot quell palestenian resistance without exterminating palestine. the palestenian people are a tortured people, hungry, radicalized simply from their day to day life: not one gazan hasn't watched corpses being pulled from the rubble, not one gazan doesn't have murdered family, not one gazan doesn't have something to mourn. their friends and family disappear or lose limbs on the daily now, building on grief from the previous 7 decades deep destruction. the homesickness is constant. the sounds of explosions is never far. of course there would be resistance movements, of course there would be revenge attacks, of course it will be bloody, because no humans in the world could silently endure these conditions. if hamas was entirely destroyed tomorrow, the next generation of palestinian youths would simply form another. for a complete, permanent victory, you would need to raze palestine.
this is why i balk at people hoping for coexistence. coexistence goes against the very founding strategy of israel. it goes against every principle and long term plan israel has for itself. israelis themselves do not want coexistence, they want gaza flattened and the west bank annexed, they want palestine destroyed and the palestenian people extinct. any sympathy with israel is a transgression on humanity.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
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Mother Knows No Bounds
prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 5.7k+
note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote
warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?
please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.
you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!
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The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.
Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.
The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.
The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.
It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.
For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.
Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.
You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.
21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.
Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.
However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.
The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.
The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.
Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.
Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.
Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.
Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.
You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.
"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."
"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.
"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"
"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.
He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"I've asked you why."
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.
"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."
Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."
"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."
Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."
"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.
"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.
"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.
"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."
You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."
You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.
When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"
"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."
"Mother, it's too hot for - "
"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.
"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."
"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "
"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."
Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."
So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.
Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.
You were all of the above and then some!
The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.
Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.
Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.
Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.
This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."
"What 'bout the li'l one?"
"Pardon?" Otto blinked.
"The Queen's last son?"
"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.
Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...
"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."
"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.
"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."
"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.
"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."
Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.
The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.
"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."
"We're almost done - "
"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."
You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.
The hall was too hot.
Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.
Overwhelmingly hot.
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!
Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!
So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!
However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.
"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"
But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.
"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"
"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.
"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"
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"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.
"What happened?" Otto demanded.
"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."
"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."
"You saw the Grand Maester?"
"We did."
"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.
"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.
When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.
When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"
"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"
"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.
"Mother didn't demand you stay?"
"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."
"He was?"
"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.
When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.
The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.
He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.
You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.
Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.
"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.
"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."
"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.
"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."
Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."
With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."
"I-It was a girl?"
"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."
"But my body - "
"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."
"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"
Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."
"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."
"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."
When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."
"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"
"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"
"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"
"How was I to know - "
"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"
"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."
"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."
"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"
"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.
"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."
It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.
Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."
Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."
"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."
"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."
"Just lay with me," you requested.
He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."
"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"
"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."
Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."
"I do not deserve a woman like you."
"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"
His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."
A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.
You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.
You didn't move, staring into the flames.
Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.
King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.
For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.
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dreamofjoys · 8 months
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— 𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙀𝙂𝙂𝙎
Synopsis: Neuvillette has finally decided to lay his eggs in your womb
C/W: Oviposition, egg laying(5), afab, established relationship, a little bit of domestic moments, double d's cause why not, double penetration, mention of pain, belly bulging, cockwarming
A/N: Dragon people are into oviposition... i just know...
DO NOT READ / DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SUCH CONTENT! I WILL BLOCK YOU IF YOU MAKE ANY NEGATIVE COMMENTS (esp when I already stated the warnings) minors go away please.
NEUVILLETTE was gentle when he spread your sticky thighs apart, allowing his shaft to easily re-enter your sex again due to the lubrication of your fluids. He had spent hours stretching your hole out with his fingers and cocks, resulting to you constantly cumming and making a mess all over him.
The hydro dragon doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he pushes your back to the bed, positioning you in a missionary position while he fucks you with both of his dicks. "Sh-shit agh Neuvi, fe-feels so good!" Your eyes rolled to the back when his dicks hits onto your cervix with dead accuracy, his balls slapping onto your folds providing extra stimulation, making you cum once again.
Your husband eyes on your fluttering pussy hole before slowly pulling out, to test if there is any friction. His face turns into a deep shade of red when the erotic sound of sqwueesh happens. Your walls suddenly clamp down on him, seemingly not wanting him to leave your sex. "Love, I think you are ready." Neuvillette comments, looking back at you who seems to be babbling incoherant nonsense, too fucked out and disorientated to register what was going on.
Neuvillette re-positions you again. Your back was pressed onto his front, your legs spread wide with his own as he slots both of himself back in ease, sighing when your walls start fluttering around him again. You moaned in delight when your pussy feels full again, throwing your head back onto your husband's shoulders, hazy eyes looking up at him.
"Will it hurt when you push the eggs in?" So you still remember the agenda of today's sex. " A little, but I will make it fast. Just 5 eggs, tell me if it's too much."
"Hehe, if my husband wants me to take in more than that, I will gladly do so!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Neuvillete leans down to give you a peck on the cheek, his silver hair falls down at his action, tickling your naked body. "There is a limit to your mortal body. I won't hurt you just for my own primal desires." "But you just said that it will hurt a little when the eggs enter me though?"
"I want to start a family with you." He rest his forehead on yours, ocean blue eyes staring down at you. "If you want to back out now, I am also okay with it. I would never want to do something that you are not comfortable with." Your heart skip a beat at his words. This was the very man that you have married to. A kind and gentle soul that was willing to deny his own happiness just for yours.
"Is okay, I told you before that I wanted this. So please, do as you wish, make both of us parents." Upon hearing your words, all the blood in Neuvillette's body seems to have rushed to both of his cocks. His pale lips came crashing down on yours, hungrily devouring you. You gasped when he pinches on your harden nipple, his tongue taking this golden opportunity to slip inside your mouth, exploring every inch of it.
Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt the tip of his cock enlarging, your walls expanding to accommodate the size as something big and round slips into your womb. It seems like one of his cock was responsible for pushing the egg in while the other was just there to keep you nicely stretched. You pulled away from Neuvillette, a string of saliva attached to both of your lips, whimpering when you felt another egg entering your womb.
This whole process was testing the limits of your vagina. You start tearing up at the constant stretching of your walls, instinctively wanting to close your legs but a hand was immediately placed at the back of your thighs, stopping you from doing it.
"It will hurt more if you close your legs." Neuvillette whispers into your ear, his other hand snacking down to toy with your clit, trying to divert attention away from the pain. Your tear stained face breaks Neuvillette's heart, but he could only whisper sweet little nothings to you, telling you that he is so lucky so marry someone as beautiful as you, praising you for being able to take both of his cocks so well. You gripped onto his hand that was toying on your clit, body shaking when you felt the last egg being pushed into your womb, settling itself in it like it was meant to be there.
You look down to see a big bulge on your belly. The eggs were finally nestled inside your womb, safe from the outside. "Mhmmm... is it over?" You rub your eyes sleepily, suddenly feeling exhausted.
"Yes it is, love." Neuvillette's hand had switched to rubbing your folds up and down. He hums an old lullaby, the vibration of his chest lulls your tired state into sleep. Your husband position himself to lean onto the headboard while you sleep in his arms. His dicks were still inside you, not wanting to pull out as he did not want the eggs to slip out - or it could be just an excuse to do cockwarming.
His hand rubs your belly, feeling satisfied at his eggs being laid inside your womb.
Neuvillette thinks hard about what he can do to relieve you of your pain when you have to lay the eggs next time, especially since it's going to grow in size inside your belly.
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My take on stalker!Tim:
Robin!Jason gets distracted during a patrol and doesn’t meet up with Batman, who panics is mildly concerned. Jason doesn’t want to reveal the real reason he got distracted (could be something he was working on for Bruce or just him being a cute baby nerd) so he makes something up the spot. A kid! He saw a kid. It was definitely child shaped. And. Uh. Photography! That’s right, he saw a kid taking photos and made sure he got home safe.
Batman: Photography?
Robin!Jason: Yeah, uh, nighttime photography.
Batman: At midnight?
Robin: I mean, it’s not a school night.
Batman: What were they taking pictures of?
Robin, panicking and going to the first thing he can think of ch just so happens to be last Sunday when Dick called Bruce an emotionally repressed furry: Uh, wildlife?
Bruce is skeptical but honestly he’s seen weirder things even tonight so as long as the kid got home safe…
Jason proceeds to use this same excuse a few more times.
Batman: Don’t tell me, it was the kid again.
Robin!Jason: You just missed him.
Batman, who isn’t feeling strong parental feelings at all: Hrn.
Okay so then fast forward a few years. Jason is on his little murder training gap year and Tim has shown up to the manor trying to fix the disaster that is currently Bruce Batman Wayne. Dick, trying to bond with the kid now that it’s apparent he’s not going anywhere, asks what Tim’s interests are.
Tim: Well, I like photography, and…
Dick, putting two and two together and getting forty-seven: Ohmygosh you’re the kid.
Tim: The what now?
Dick: The kid with the wildlife photography.
Tim, thinking about that one competition he entered a year ago: Uh, I guess?
Dick thinks that’s how Tim figured out all their identities. He thinks he has it all figured out. He does not. Bruce now thinks he has it figured out too. He does not. Tim is unaware there was something to be figured out. Jason is off learning the finer points of poisoning or something idk.
So skip forward some more and Jason is back, minus some murder attempts or whatever because this is crack, and Dick is now trying to get his two brothers comfortable with each other. It is not working. Finally, Dick remembers they’ve definitely met before.
Dick: So, do you remember meeting Tim before?
Jason, whose memory resembles Swiss cheese but is fairly certain he never met Tim before now: Uh…
Dick: He’s the kid! The one with the wildlife photography!
Jason, suddenly remembering the excuse he used several times as Robin: The what now?
Tim, knowing full well that Jason was very dead at the time he submitted anything in a wildlife category: The what now?
Jason pulls Tim into a hall closet to interrogate him about this.
Tim: There’s like five rooms right here that no one has stepped in in a month. Why are we in a closet?
Jason: What, exactly, did Dick mean by you were the one with the wildlife photography, because I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse I made up but now I don’t know.
They figure it out. They also agree to just let that belief be. Jason doesn’t want to admit he made that all up. Tim doesn’t want to admit he thought Dick had gone to his art competition thing before they even officially met. Tim also doesn’t want to explain how he actually figured out their identities because this sounds way cooler. So they decide to just roll with it.
Damian shows up and tries to hunt down Tim’s early photos of Batman. Tim and Jason get really into making it look like he just keeps missing it. Barbara knew about all of this the entire time but no one asked her so she didn’t bother to fill them in.
Everyone else that joins the family after that point and hears the story of Jason and Tim supposedly meeting while Jason was Robin has the exact same response: “Oh, ‘cause Batman’s a furry. Right.”
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
Text
Motivation
(Part 2)
Time Written- 10:23 p.m.
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I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up
“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.
A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.
A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.
Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.
“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”
“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.
“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”
Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.
The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.
Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.
“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.
“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.
“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.
He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.
“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.
“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.
He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”
Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.
Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.
“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”
Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.
“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”
“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”
The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.
“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”
“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.
“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.
The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.
He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.
“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.
“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”
You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.
The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.
Your boy, his boy. His son.
“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.
He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.
“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.
“I love you.”
Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.
The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.
“Love you too, mama.”
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afewfantasies · 16 days
Note
I don't know why but when I first started reading feyd fanfics, in my mind feyd would dye/paint his teeth every day because he thought it looks intimidating and now there will forever be the image of feyd sitting at a vanity every morning meticulously coloring his teeth black
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"Black Smile"
OMG, I love this so much. We know Feyd loves to put on a show, so this fits. Anything to add to the persona, the intrigue and the pageantry of it all. Here's a little Feyd X Reader imagine with this premise. Feyd is also the current Baron.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 575
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd X Reader (Established relationship w/ children)
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd's painting his teeth to prepare for a public appearance. His small children see it for the first time.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, this ones fluffy 🖤
"Black Smile"
Turning Feyd stops painting his smile at the sound of little feet, casting a look over his shoulder he stops seeing his children. His daughter scrunches her face up stopping dead in her tracks. He prepares for the worst but thankfully there are no tears.
“Daddy what’s that?” She asks amusing him. She only knew daddy, not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. “Daddy I don’t like it” she adds coming closer. Seeking him for comfort in spite of his look being the reason for her uncertainty.
“Me neither” His son says both sets of little eyes pairing at him. Feyd turns again as you enter the bedroom. It brings back memories of your first meeting, when it was the only way you knew him. Black teeth to add to the terror.
“Your mommy likes it” Feyd says and both children turn to you in shock..
“They were coming to say goodbye and wish you a safe voyage” you explain running your hands over your babies heads. Feyd nods.
“Mommy you really like it?” Your daughter asks skeptically and you nod.
“C’mere” he growls playfully sending both kids screaming before he can give chase. You smile as they run out the chambers.
“Missed a spot” you tell him pointing to a white streak along one of his teeth. He finishes up the job leaving all of his teeth smooth and black before curing them with so it looks natural and lasts.
“How do I look?” Feyd rasps adapting the voice and the terrifying persona of his reputation.
“Like a Harkonnen” you respond.
“Daddy?” Your son calls running back into your room. Feyd raises a brow.
“Can I have it too, I want to scare my sister” your son bounces. Instead of saying no Feyd picks your boy up sitting him on his lap. You laugh knowing your little girl will be next in line.
“I’m not sure I like this” you confess looking at your son’s black teeth and gums as Feyd cures the paint. Your kid hisses at you and you laugh thinking it must be hereditary. He runs back out the room and you listen out for screams. Sure enough a blood curling scream proceeds hysterical laughter. Running hard your daughter re-enters bouncing.
“Daddy, Daddy, me tooo!” She bounces and Feyd picks her up indulging her request. He’s so good with the kids it’s unreal, it warms your heart more than he could ever know.
“Mummy, how’s it look?” Your daughter says giving you a black grin.
“Interesting” you smile and she runs out to terrorize her brother and the staff no doubt. You turn to Feyd in amusement and he pats his knee.
“Your turn” he says.
“No thank you,” you respond having a seat on his knee. Looking at him in the mirror you try to picture him for the first time, you try to remember how he made your heart palpitate, how weary you were of his black smile, how terrified you were of him. “Smile?” You ask and he obliges leaving you to shudder. “Terrifying papa” you wink at him in the mirror earring a smile. 
“Good” he nods and you chuckle holding back your smile. It never ceased to amaze you the lengths Feyd would go to to serve maximum horror. There was a sense of pageantry and exaggeration that you found ironic and amusing. Of course he’s never needed the black smile to be intimidating but it adds a little je-ne-sais-quoi. 
-----
Authors note: thanks for the idea anon, genuinely never considered this possibility - its been fun to ponder 🩶
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jjklvr9 · 3 months
Text
𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
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-> 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
18+ minors dni !!
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: smut, oneshot
warnings: dom jungkook, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!
wc: 2.2k
a/n: this is a one-shot i wrote a like yearssss ago lmao, its been up on AFF but i wanted to post it here too! it's a little bit rushed but i hope you still enjoy <3
“What are you staring at? Come on, dance with us!” a high-pitched female voice broke you apart from your long thoughts. It was a Friday night- meaning everybody would be heading over to the club, going wild and getting themselves wasted. Your two best friends along with their boyfriends forcefully made you, the only one left single pringle and too-awkward-to-mingle- to tag along with them to the club tonight. Not that you had any other plans that night but being your boring awkward self, you didn’t really like to go out to these sorts of things. It was rather too loud and crowded for your liking, making you feel all breathless and weak.
“Hey, come on!” one of your beloved best friends called out to you again, her body still grinding ever so roughly onto her boyfriend’s. Your lips curved into a slight smile and you shook your head, indicating that you were just alright sitting there all by yourself and watching them have their fun. Empty glasses and drinks were scattered all over the table yet of course- your glass was left untouched. No, you were certainly not planning on getting home wasted and getting a hangover the next morning. It was too much to bear with and you had no time to deal with those ilks of things. You leaned your back onto the sofa, your eyes observing the much-crowded place when suddenly- a lonesome-looking guy sitting on the sofa next to your group caught your attention. He was like me too, you thought as the young man was just sitting there, his back resting onto the sofa as well.
Without any hesitance, you decided to head your heels over to his side and probably make a new friend by the end of the night. As you got yourself closer to him, you finally saw his facial features clearly and holy shit- he was one fine young man. “Uhm, hey.” You slowly greeted him, only to be responded with a confused look written on his face. “Do I know you?” His voice. It was husky as you thought it would be and damn, you found that to be hella attractive. “No.. but I want to know you..?” With that he lets out a soft chuckle past his lips, none of it with any sarcasm. The male pats the space beside him, scooting away slightly to let you sit down. “Thanks.” You murmured, placing your hands on your bare thighs. Now that you were sitting down beside a guy you never met- you felt like your dress was too short and was getting shorter by the second you were breathing. It was showing off your thighs and it barely covered your upper thigh. A single misstep could lay everything bare.
“So, alone?” he asks with a smile, breaking the chain of thoughts in your head. “Uhm- no, my friends and their boyfriends are on the dance floor.” Again, he chuckles. “Same goes for me. Want a drink?” “Uh-no! it’s okay. I’ve had too many.” You lied; not wanting to sound like you were still sober and fresh in a fucking club. That would be really lame and quite embarrassing. “Well, what’s your name?” he asks, his dark orbs meeting yours making you look away and blush. If looks could kill- you’d be dead.
“Y/N”
“Jungkook.” he replies, a smile curving up the corner of his lips.
“Well then Jungkook.” 
Before you could proceed with your words, you were interrupted by a group of inebriated individuals stumbling around, likely to be Jungkook's friends. You felt like you shouldn’t be intruding them as you were nothing but a mere stranger, not even waiting for Jungkook to say anything and scurried back to sit on your sofa alone.
Well- it wasn’t entirely your best friend’s fault that you were left all alone. They did invite you up to the dance floor but you were just too lazy. You were not in the mood for random sweaty strangers having their bodies pressed against yours while they utter nonsense to your ears. As time passed, you stole quick glances at the adjacent sofa, hoping to find the young man, but to your disappointment, he was no longer there. You found yourself trying to look for him everywhere when a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist lightly.
“I’m here. Sorry about just now.” It was Jungkook- unexpectedly just standing there right in front of you. “Follow me?” without any hesitation, you obediently followed him out of the noisy club and into his car down the street. You didn’t know exactly what you had just brought yourself into as he drove off from the club. This young man could be a murderer or a rapist-and hell knows what kind of crazy thing he would do to you. “Where are we going?” “My place.” He answers with ease, finally pulling over in front of a tall building. Evidently, his apartment exuded luxury, suggesting that he was likely quite affluent. Jungkook parks his car quickly and brings you up to the elevator and finally to his apartment. Everything was happening so fast, all that you could feel at the moment was confusion. The man unlocks the door, pulling you in along with him but not with much force. 
“Welcome.” 
His place was rather impressive, adorned in various shades of grey as the main theme, featuring a large window and a snug kitchen. There was also a huge sliding door with translucent paper covering it- probably the entrance to his bedroom. You awkwardly stood beside his couch not wanting to take a seat without his consent and waited for him to at least explain what the hell was going on. Jungkook walks over and plops down onto the couch, his face looking up at you in confusion. “Why aren’t you sitting down?” “I have to go- my friends are going to kill me if they found out I just ditched them like that.” Before you could walk away to the door, Jungkook quickly grabbed your arm-not too tightly to hurt you but enough that made you sit on his lap. The heat on your cheeks was starting to go out of hand- I probably look like a dumb tomato, you thought.
“Stay.” You turn your head slightly to get a better look at Jungkook’s face when he suddenly leans in and captures your lips with his. It took a brief moment before you actually returned the kiss. It was full of passion and lust, something both of you were craving for out of each other. Your hands were now wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you to get more out of his lips. Jungkook licks your wet cavern with his tongue before tangling both of your tongues together, sucking on them roughly. Somehow, your hands had unwrapped themselves and made their way down to his chest; caressing it up and down. Standing up, Jungkook carries you up with your legs wrapped around his waist- your lips still latched together. The young man walks towards his bedroom and gently places you down on his bed, his body hovering on top of yours. He slowly pressed himself onto you, grinding his clothed hardness onto your clothed clit. “Mmhh.” A muffled moan escapes your lips, making Jungkook pull away from the intense kiss, only to leave hard kisses on your neck and even biting it to leave a few marks.
Being all impatient, you brought your hands up to his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it away across the room. Your itchy hands then continued to go further down, fiddling with the belt of his pants and finally being able to get that out of the way too. You softly nudged his growing clothed erection with your knee before you unzipped his pants and pushed it off his legs completely, leaving him in nothing but his red-coloured boxers. Having both of your lips still hardly pressed onto each other, Jungkook unzips your dress and pulls it off of you easily- as if it was such a common thing for him to do but you didn’t put much thought about it at that moment. Without wasting any time, his quick hands unclasped your black lacey bra and he too, threw it across the room and God knows where it was now. Jungkook’s eyes adverted from your own down to your exposed breasts, his tongue slipping out of his lips to lick them dry. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath yet you could still hear them very clearly.
Instead of getting it on to the whole point- you decided you’d play a little game even though you knew you were going to get fucked real hard after. Literally. You held your palms on his chest and pushed him off you, making him roll to the other side only to have you hovering on top of him now. A smirk played on your lips as Jungkook looked at you in genuine confusion with a little hint of excitement. With the smirk still on your lips, you slowly made your way down till you reached eye-level with his growing crotch. “You’re so fucking hard.” You teased, biting onto the hem of his boxers and pulling it down slowly, your eyes locked with his. Jungkook bit his lips as he watched you pull his boxers off completely, letting his erect cock free itself from the heated cloth. “So hard-for me.” You let out a soft yet teasing moan, offering a smooth lick to his hardness. “Fuck-don’t tease me.” He breathed out when you gave another four or five licks. You ignored his words and continued to take his tip into your mouth, giving it a light bite before engulfing him whole; making you gag a little bit. The male’s head was now pulled back with his eyes shut tightly, his teeth biting onto his lips to suppress any sound from exiting. Jungkook didn’t want to sound weak, you see. Failing to keep his posture up together, he finally let out a groan when you started sucking onto him harshly. The pleasured male wasn’t giving much reaction to your doings, making you feel a little pissed off and you decided to leave it at that and pulled away completely when you know he was reaching his peak. “What the fuck!” he yelled, eyes widened in bewilderedness. Both of you were now in a heating tension; one who was pissed off and one who was just literally in heat.
Feeling himself getting hotter and frustrated by the second, Jungkook clutched his hands onto your arms tightly, carrying you away from being on top of him and pushed you down onto the bed. This time, it had a harder impact. You were starting to feel eager to know what he was planning to do with you yet you were also feeling a little scared of what might come out of him. The awaited male shot you a glare before he roughly tore your black underwear and pushed three of his fingers together into you. That sudden action of his made you jolt in pain, obviously not ready for his invasion. His fingers were not like those slim and longed ones, no. They were- not to say huge but slightly plump but fit. You can imagine them by yourselves on this one.
He started pulling his fingers in and out of your wet clit, every push becoming even harder than before. “So wet-for me.” Jungkook mocked you, hearing you moaning out loud when it’s barely him inside of you. Feeling your stomach clenching, you were waiting for him to finger you even quicker but instead, INSTEAD- he pulled them out completely. Before you could yell at him for being a total jerk, he pushed his erect cock up in you with a loud blow; not even wasting time to adjust and went straight into thrusting. Your eyes started to water, your back was arching to its maximum point and you were screaming his name at the top of your lungs at every hard thrust he blew into you. 
“Oh fuck me- faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy, Jungkook not even having to listen to your demands as he paced up even faster than before. “You’re so fucking hot babe..” he breathes out in between his humps, hoping you would be able to hear them even though you were busy getting pleasured. “Fuck’s sake- faster! Mmhm..” this time, you moan even louder, signalling that you were reaching your climax very very very soon. “I-I’m going to cum.” Jungkook hitches, thrusting in you hard a few more times before he pulls out and lets the warm liquid flow out and stain the bed sheet.
The room was filled with nothing but the rushed breathings of your lungs and his. After some time passed by, Jungkook finally turned to your side and pulled up the blanket to cover both of your naked bodies. “Hey.” He says, making you turn your head to face his smiling face. “Hey.” Now, both of you were simply smiling, your eyes locked, each attempting to decipher the thoughts lingering in the other's mind. "Let’s have a dinner date tomorrow. I want to get to know you better.”
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shockercoco · 16 days
Text
Bloodlust
Feyd Rautha x reader
Warnings - 18+, blood kink, fingering, squirting, feyd being his usual self
Word count - 2009
a/n - Here's the runner up from my poll.  I started a new job and it’s literally taking away my energy to write, but don’t worry I’m not going anywhere, and I will make time. I also wanted to say a quick hello to all the new readers, given the fact that I’ve gained a lot in the past couple of weeks, and I wanted to give a thanks to everyone for actually enjoying my work. That’s enough sappiness :)
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“Head! Head! Head!” the crowd shouts down at Feyd who’s currently standing over a dead man’s body in the middle of the arena. He had just eliminated his opponent, and given the roar of the crow, they still wanted more.
You had your head turned for the majority of the battle, not wanting to see the gore. You would think you’d be used to everything by now, given the amount of family games you’ve been to since marrying Feyd, but all the blood and stabbing still makes you uneasy. Now, you’re just hoping that the crowd shouting head doesn’t mean what you think it means.
Feyd looks up at the spot next to you where his uncle, the Baron, sits in his chair chuckling at the crowd’s reaction. He makes eye contact silently asking for his uncle’s permission to continue, and the Baron just raises his hand and gives him a nod in response.
“Might as well give the people what they want, he’s earned it,” the Baron mutters.
You watch as a wicked smile grows on Feyd’s face as he turns his attention back to the lifeless body on the ground. One of his handlers walks up to him to hand him a chainsaw to which Feyd happily takes as he carelessly tosses his blade aside. He holds the chainsaw up in the air to show the crowd, causing the volume in the arena to increase.
He then proceeds to start up the chainsaw and begins sawing , all the while the sinister smirk on his face grows more and more. You expected to see blood flying everywhere, but all you saw was Feyd taking his sweet time. The crowd continues to cheer, but you roll your eyes at the sight before you. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Feyd’s bloodlust. 
When the job is done, you take it as your cue to leave and head to Feyd’s chambers to meet him since he always cleans himself after a battle. Before he met you, he would think that bathing was a waste of time after a battle, but he decided to change his ways for your benefit. It’s not like you wanted to relive what happens in the arena.
You’re looking out of a  floor-to-ceiling window in his chamber when Feyd bursts through the doors, a smile forming on his lips when he sees you. You ignore it though as you find yourself looking at the several spots of blood on his arm and shirt, one catching your eye. There’s a sizable dark stain on the side of his black shirt. He’s bleeding. 
“You’re bleeding,” you point at the spot on his shirt, and Feyd stops in the middle of taking off his gear to look down and examine himself.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” he dismisses it with a wave of his hand as he continues removing his gear. “I let that fool get a couple jabs in to make him think he had a chance.”
You’re taken aback at his casual response. “I’m sorry, you let him hurt you? He could’ve given you a serious injury or worse. Are you insane- oh wait, I forgot. You are.”
He knows all the names that people call him behind his back, and he accepts them all; he finds them amusing. Feyd laughs at your reaction, knowing it comes from love, and walks toward you. “You worry too much, I won’t let anything happen to me. I know you wouldn’t be able to live without me.”
He places your hands in his as he stands in front of you with his signature smirk, but you remove your hands and look up at him. “That's not funny, I’m being serious.”
“I know, I know. You just need to relax,” he says and grabs your face in his hands as he looks down at you.
“Feyd-,” you begin to say, but he hushes you and gently rubs one of his thumbs across your lips.
“I said you need to relax.” 
His voice is nothing more than a whisper now as he flicks his gaze between your eyes and lips. Finally, he leans down to connect his lips with yours with his hands still having a hold on your face. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, deciding to give up on getting through to him for now because there will no doubt be plenty of other times to have this talk. Your hands find themselves resting on his waist.
Feyd notices you giving in to him and smirks to himself. He then pushes you back a couple of steps until your body collides with the glass window you were staring out of just a few minutes ago. Feyd pulls back from you long enough to remove his shirt before continuing.
Your hands find themselves on his waist to bring him closer, but you pull away when your right hand touches his open wound. “Shouldn’t you be getting that looked at instead of trying to bed me?” you ask, slightly out of breath, as you look down at your dark blood stained hand. Feyd rolls his eyes at your question.
“I’ll get it looked at after, I promise,” he says, hoping you’ll move on, but when he notices you still looking at his side, he says, “Look, it doesn’t even hurt.”
He grabs one of your hands and places it on his open wound to press down, not even caring about the blood getting on his hand placed over yours. You hear feyd hum, not from pain, but from pleasure. Growing restless, Feyd takes matters into his own hands and forces your chin up, allowing him to connect his lips with yours once again. One of his arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him. He deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and you accept him.
His hand finds its way to your cheek again before slowly moving down your throat, leaving a trail of blood behind. Your mind doesn’t notice the wet feeling on the side of your face at first as Feyd begins sucking your tongue. You feel like you should be disgusted at him contaminating you, but instead it just arouses you even more. You let out a moan as you move your hands up to rest against his chest, your right hand leaving behind its own trail. 
Feyd moves one of your hands back down to his injury, and you let him, succumbing to his morbid kink, though you’re starting to think about adding it to your mental list of turn-ons.  A constant flow of warmth travels to your lower half, your body silently letting you know you’re finding pleasure in his sick ways.
All the while Feyd is grinding himself against you, pressing your back against the glass even more. A small damp spot begins to form on your panties as you feel his clothed length moving into you. He places one of his hands onto the glass behind you leaving it next to your face. 
You can’t see it, but his partially stained hand leaves a thin handprint on the glass next to your head. You both have given up on trying to hold your breath, making the kiss sloppy as the heat from both of your mouths connect in the air between you. The sound of your guys’ saliva connecting can be heard in his normally quiet chamber.
He pulls his hips away from you to scrunch your gown up enough to stick his unstained hand underneath, letting the rest of the fabric drop back down. He cups you into his large hand, allowing the tips of his fingers to reach your folds over your panties, reaching where you need him the most. He receives a response from his action with you moaning into his mouth.
His touch is not enough, though, so you let out a whine hoping he gets the idea, which he does. You’re grateful for the fact that he doesn’t tease you and instead pushes your panties to the side. 
Feyd swipes a finger through your folds to test your wetness, and once he feels the slickness on the sensitive skin, he instantly shoves a finger into your welcoming opening. You pull your mouth away from him to moan as he begins fingering you involuntarily squeeze his wound, causing him to groan at the same time. The hand on his chest and the one on his side move up to grab onto Feyd’s shoulders to stabilize yourself as you feel your legs weakening. 
“Why’d you pull away from me, my darling? Too much?” Feyd teases as he continues to pump his finger into you, watching as a look of pleasure forms on your face. 
He smirks at your whimpering response before shoving another finger into you. He leans back to continuing observing the sight in front of him as he watches you fall apart, his mouth slightly ajar.
“You’re enjoying this?” Feyd asks you as he pulls his stained hand away from the glass and uses it to place a firm grip on your chin, forcing your head up to him. The words came out as a question, but it was more of an acknowledgment at the fact of you finding pleasure with his dirty hands. The revelation sends a rush of blood to his already hard cock. 
You don’t answer since you’re too busy whimpering, so he gives your chin a shake. “Open your eyes, and answer me,” he tells you.
“Yes…I am,” you answer breathlessly after opening your eyes. You squeeze his shoulders to help keep your focus on him. 
Feyd lets out a faint “yes” under his breath as he tries to stop his mouth from watering as he looks at your blood covered skin. He then removes the hand on your chin to gather both of your in his, pinning them above you against the glass window. 
As he feels your climax approaching, Feyd increases the pace of his fingers inside you. The arousal dripping out of you and clinging to your folds as a result of him driving into you, allows for a wet squelching sound to echo in your head. A long whine falls out of your mouth as he forces you closer and closer to your orgasm while you arch into him and grind your hips into his hand.
Once you feel that warm wave wash through you as you finally cum, your breath catches in your throat causing you to let out a silent cry of pleasure as your eyes roll back into your skull. When you feel yourself squirt onto the tiles beneath you, you allow your eyes to squeeze shut as Feyd continues to finger you.  He groans as he listens to your liquid hit the ground.
“Oh my god,” you shriek at his relentless torment into your cunt. 
Feyd chuckles and gives you an open mouth smile. “There we go, just like that,” he whispers. You whine in response.
When he finally stops, he pulls his drenched fingers out of you. You’re still leaking onto the ground as you watch Feyd stick his fingers into his mouth, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. You let out a trembling sigh as Feyd releases his hold on your hands above your head, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully catch your breath as he grabs you and places you onto his bed.
“You know, my darling, I thought you absolutely hated blood and the ways of this planet. It seems I have ruined you,” Feyd smirks down at you as he drags a thumb across your bottom lip.
You look up at him as you accept the fact that he’s right. 
Feyd looks over at one of his walls with several knives and blades mounted onto it, and you follow his gaze. He looks back at you with a questioning look.
You feel your heart stop, but also another wave of arousal flows through your pelvis, as you realize what he wants.
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drewstarkeyslut · 2 months
Note
Dark!rafe and dark!reader who show up to the boneyard with different people and after a verbal fight the two end up hooking up in his truck. Maybe they leave together 👀
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RIDE OR DIE ᡣ𐭩
Warnings: smut (p in v), choking, slapping, creampie, kidnapping, rafe forcing jj/sofia to watch as he fucks reader (idk what else, sorry if i missed anything)
A/N: sorry it took me forever to finish babe, my motivation has been down the drain lately. i truly dont know if i like this, it’s mehh.. but i hope you enjoy it🥹🥲 also wanted to thank @drudyslut for helping me alot with it by coming up with some ideas, your brain works wonders! ilysm bestie💕
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You and Rafe were together but not together, it was complicated. You loved to get under each others skin. It was like a competition, every fucking time. Rafe was a jealous guy, and you were a jealous girl, that was obvious. Shit got crazy from time to time, it was inevitable. You two were toxic together.
Tonight there was a party at the boneyard and you decided the best way to mess with Rafe’s head was to show up with none other than JJ Maybank. You and Rafe had gotten into it the night before, nothing new but you were out for blood. You knew his hatred for the pogue, so you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into. That was the plan and you went with it.
What you didn’t know was that Rafe was two steps ahead.
You and JJ arrived at the boneyard, his arm draped around your neck. His hand basically grazing over your breast. You two walked in smiling and laughing. That’s when you locked eyes with Rafe, he was seething and you knew it. You were living for it.
The first thing you noticed when you looked over at Rafe was the girl who threw herself all over him, peppering his neck with kisses. It was Sofia, the girl before you, the one bitch you despised.
“Hey JJ, you go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a bit!” You give him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. You knew Rafe was watching and it killed him to witness that even when he just had the bitch all over his neck just a few seconds ago. No one touches his girl, and if they do, they might as well be dead.
“Alright Princess, be safe.” JJ nods at you then proceeds to catch up with the rest of the pogues.
“Hey fuck face!” You shout, storming towards Rafe.
“Who me?” Sofis questions, obvlious to the situation and making it obvious she was annoyed with your presence.
“Not you, you nasty little whore. Him.” You point in Rafes direction. He’s already eyeing you, theres no telling what he’s thinking about with that blank look on his face.
“What do you want y/n? Shouldn’t you be with your little pogue boy toy, Maybank?” Rafe spat, his arms pushing Sofia closer into him. He did it to piss you off, and it was working.
“Actually, yes. Just wanted to stop by and say fuck you, have fun with this dumb cunt! Just know you’ll be thinking about me when you’re inside of her. Have a good fucking night.” You hiss, looking at him then to Sofia. You turn around making sure your hair whipped the bitch in her face.
“Oh I will, sweetheart.” Rafe jabbed. A devilish grin adorning his face as he took a sip from his cup.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Sofia questions Rafe. His eyes are still locked on you as you make your way back to JJ. He watches as JJ wraps his arm around you pulling you closer to him. He says something to you that makes you laugh then plants kisses on your forehead.
“Nothing Sofia, just…fucking drop it.” Rafe’s mind was spiraling, all he could think about was you and that fucking pogue and he didn’t like it one bit.
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A couple hours passed since you arrived at the boneyard, you were currently grinding on JJ, genuinely having fun. You were feeling a bit tipsy, not quite drunk yet but definitely not sober. You honestly were just having a good time. You didn’t want to think about Rafe right now, thinking about him with Sofia would just push your fucking buttons.
“Hey JJ, would you please get me another drink?” You ask him with pleading eyes.
“Of course princess. I got ya, I’ll be right back!” JJ gushed.
You were dancing with Sarah and Kie while waiting for JJ to come back with your drink. Ten minutes go by but it felt like hours, JJ never came back. You start to worry as your eyes scan the boneyard. You get a glimpse of where the drinks are set up, but still no sign of JJ. You decide not to worry.. just yet, thinking he probably bumped into John B or Pope and got carried away.
After another hour of dancing and talking with Sarah and Kie you wander off to look for JJ. He certainly wasn’t with John B, because he came looking for Sarah. Pope was with Cleo. So where the fuck did JJ go? Did he find some other girl to take to the Chateau? And if so, why didn’t he just tell you? It’s not like you two were an item.
You were so lost in your thoughts when all of a sudden a hand covered your mouth and an arm wrapped around your torso pulling you into someones chest.
“Shh. Baby girl. Don’t make a sound.” Rafe whispers in your ear. His dick was slightly hard, you could feel his bulge poking into your ass.
He leads you to his truck, throws you inside, and walks to the drivers side, hopping in.
“What the fuck Rafe?!” You yell.
“Shut up y/n! How ‘bout you be quiet f’me..yeah?” Rafe mutters. He starts the truck and starts speeding off.
“Where the hell are you taking me? I don’t want to go anywhere with you, where is Sofia? Got bored of her already huh?” You start going off, still pissed about him bringing Sofia to the boneyard.
“I said shut the fuck up! It’s not that hard to listen is it?” Rafe hits the steering wheel, noticably agitated, he turns up the music to drown you out.
“Well god damn. Alright. Someone is fucking pissy.” You mumble under your breath and roll your eyes. You were used to shit like this when it came to Rafe, nothing surprised you anymore. You stare out the window as you listen to “RUNRUNRUN” by Dutch Melrose blasting on the radio.
Rafe finally pulls up to Tannyhill, you look at the beautiful home you knew all too well. You knew what Rafe wanted from you, why else would he have brought you here? Shit, you wanted it too. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to.
You hop out of the truck without Rafe having to force you out of it. Rafe stalks towards you, he opens the door to Tannyhill and you both step inside. You push Rafe against the wall as you look up at him with hungry eyes, his eyes dart down to your tits, licking his lips. Rafe grips your throat, turning his body so that now your body slams against the wall. He always wanted to be in control, especially tonight.
“You know Rafe, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just called me.” You bite your lip looking up into his eyes.
He wastes no time going in for a kiss, you don’t hesitate, not even for a second as you kiss him back. He releases the tight grip from your throat, putting his arms out low enough so he could pick you up.
“Jump” Rafe orders. You do as he says, wrapping your legs around him as he holds you up against the wall.
He shoves his tongue in your mouth and you moan into his mouth, your tongues clashing. You two were completely absorbed in making out as he carries you up the stairs into his room and throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you.
“Shit, you got me hard as fuck. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pretty little pussy but first....” Rafe reaches over and turns on the lamp, letting the light brighten the room just a bit.
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You see something from the corner of your eye as you look over and see JJ and Sofia tied to chairs. They were gagged with tape over their mouths so they couldnt make a sound. They were crying and fighting their restraints. Rafe made sure they wouldn’t be able to get out of them.
“What’s going on Rafe, why are JJ and Sofia here, like that?” You question him, you weren’t even shocked to see them restrained as if it happened before.
“Oh hmm, I don’t know — maybe because JJ here didn’t seem to know that you’re my girl y/n, and no one fucks with my girl. No one touches what belongs to me.” Rafe stated confidently, looking JJ straight in his eyes. “So, he and miss Sofia here will be watching me claim what’s mine. They will know who owns you.” Rafe smirked, palming himself through his shorts.
There was something so sinister in the way Rafe thought and did things that surpisingly didn’t bother you and did quite the opposite. It turned you on.
“All yours, and only yours Rafe! Let this cunt know that this pussy is the only pussy you’ll be fucking that cock into, the only pussy that cries for you.” You grinned, pulling him closer by the loops on his shorts.
“Fuck, you really know how to get me goin’ such a good slut f’me. I need to feel you, need to be inside of you, now.” Rafe growls. He pulls his shirt off, unbuttoning his pants and taking those off too.
“Wow no boxers huh?” You giggled. You start drooling at the sight of his hard cock, precum dripping from his tip and onto you. Just the sight of his cock had your pussy sopping wet.
“I bet you’re not wearing any panties, damn slut. How about we check?” Rafe laughs, lifting up your dress to reveal your pussy glistening on full display.
You pull your dress over your head and undo your bra throwing it on the floor. You wanted him, you were impatient.
“Fuck me Rafe. Right now. Want to feel every inch of your cock, need you to fill me up full of your cum.” You moan. Rafe pins your arms above your head, visicously gripping your wrists.
He smashes his lips against yours as he enters his length into your wet cunt. You gasp, your moans muffled from Rafe’s tongue down your throat. His cock slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy. His cock drowning in your wet pussy.
He pulls away from the kiss, one hand giving a slap to your cheek.
“You like that huh? You filthy slut. Fuck. You feel so damn good.” Rafe gives the other side of your cheek a slap.
“Fuckkkk, y-yyes! ch-choke me Rafe. I need to feel your big hands wrapped around my throat.” You beg,
“Whatever my little cumslut wants, she gets. But.. can you handle it baby girl?” Rafe asks but wastes no time as both hands release the grip from your wrists making their way down to your throat. The grip was deathly, your airways were absolutely constricted, face turning a light shade of pink.
“Oh fuck, yes. Oh my god, faster please daddy. Feels so fucking good! I want to cum” You scream, your words coming out strained due to your struggle for air.
Rafe picks up the pace, his cock ramming into your cunt, his thrusts sloppy and brutal. Your juices making a mess on his large veiny cock.
“This pussy is mine. You’re all mine. You belong to me. You got that y/n?” Rafe rasped. You just nod your head, too focused on how his cock was making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t lie, he was the best fuck you ever had and ever will have. You were addicted just as much as he was.
“Yes sir. All yours. Every inch of me belongs to you.” You moan out as he releases his grip from your throat.
“That’s my fuckin’ good girl.” Rafe praises.
“Fuck! Ahh, Rafe I’m gonna cum!” You let go and squirt all over his cock.
“Shiiiit, I’m gonna fill this pretty little cunt up. You want it? You little slut. Fuck come on, tell JJ and Sofia just how much you need my cum baby girl.” Rafe taunts. You almost forgot that JJ and Sofia were in the room, tied up, and trying to keep their eyes shut so they didn’t have to witness this.
“Rafe p-please I need it! Need your cum to fill me up and drip right fucking out of my pussy!” You whine. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him more towards you. His cock pushes deeper into you making you tremble and scream.
“God damn baby girl, keep grippin’ this fuckin’ dick just like that. Ah fuuuck, you’re doing so well f’me. Fuckin’ take it like a filthy whore. Oh shit baby girl, here it comes!” Rafe groans loudly, a string of curses falling from his lips and thick white ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.
He looks over to JJ and Sofia, “Bet you thought you’d be the one in this sweet pussy tonight, yeah?” Rafe laughs. JJ mutters something under his breath as he still struggles to find a way out.
Rafe goes back to paying him no attention. He pulls out, his warm seed spilling out of your pussy and dripping onto the bedsheets.
“Wish it was you filled with his cum instead, hmm? Too damn bad it will never be you, bitch.” You stare into Sofia’s eyes, you hated that bitch and wanted her to know that he was not hers to fuck around with. Rafe was yours. Always will be.
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