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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

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As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Note: This was intended to be a short little spicy blurb. Yet here we are. Babysitter!reader just might be my ultimate weakness. Reader is 20, Eddie is early to mid 30s.

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), babysitter!reader, infidelity, language, older!eddie, praise kink, breeding kink, I think that’s it?

Words: 10k

Part Two | All stories in this universe

“Ryan, did you finish your homework?”

Small dark eyes peek out at you from behind the curls that fall into his eyes.

“No.”

Thankfully, this kid is honest to a fault. The day you first catch him in a lie you’ll be afraid he’s turning into his bitch of a mother.

“And why not?” you ask.

“I need help,” he says quietly. His voice sounds ashamed, and it etches a crack in your heart.

“Then you ask.” You sit down next to him at the kitchen table and push his hair out of his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, okay? Everyone needs it sometimes.”

Ryan nods his head and pulls a folder out of his backpack. While he shuffles some papers around, you hear his younger brother on the other side of the couch, making car honking and crashing noises as he plays with his Hot Wheels.

“Luke, are you hungry?”

“No!” comes the response in between fake automobile sounds.

Ryan slides a piece of paper in front of you and your eyes glance over it. You’re not surprised it’s his reading homework again. He’s often gotten embarrassed about being behind the other kids in his class.

“Okay, we got this,” you tell him. “Oh, I know you know this word.” Ryan stares at it, brow pinching in concentration. “Come on, sound it out.”

“D…dif.” Ryan pauses to let out a sigh. “Differ. Differen. Different. Different!”

“You got it!”

A smile brightens his face as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. He looks so proud of himself, and it warms your heart.

Luke gets up and walks over to you at the table. Even though you’ve been watching him for over a year now, you’re still shocked at how much Eddie’s youngest son looks exactly like him. He’s a miniature Eddie with blue eyes. Luke rests his head against your shoulder, and you wrap your other arm around his shoulders.

“What’s up?” you ask Luke.

“Bored.”

“Bored?” you ask. “You were just playing.”

“Now I’m bored,” Luke says.

The front doorknob turns and both boys’ heads snap in that direction. Luke’s gone from your side before Eddie even has a chance to step one boot inside the threshold. He’s expecting it though and swoops his youngest son up in his arms as he steps inside.

“Hey, what’s up, rugrat?” Eddie asks. He kicks the door closed behind him and manhandles Luke until he’s holding him upside down.

“Ahh! Daddy! Put me down!”

“You sure? Okay.” Eddie holds him over the couch and drops him on his back onto the soft cushions. He kicks his boots off in the doorway of his bedroom and tugs the hair tie from the back of his head, setting his wild curls free. The dark blue coveralls still adorn his legs, the arms of the jumpsuit tied around his waist, and his plain white t-shirt is smudged with dirty fingerprints.

“Hi, Dad,” Ryan says, front tooth missing, making his smile even more adorable.

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of his head as he walks by, pressing one to yours next, shooting you a playful smirk as he walks into the kitchen. He’s only messing around, so why are your cheeks heating up so much?

“How was work?” you ask.

“Same old, same old,” Eddie says. He walks over to the table, popping the cap off a water bottle and chugging down half its contents in one go. The way his Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks catches your attention and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away. When he pulls the bottle away from his mouth, you turn your eyes down to Ryan’s worksheet, so you’re not caught staring.

“How’s work for you?” Eddie asks.

“Pretty good,” you tell him. “You saved me though because a certain little someone told me he was bored.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns to look at Luke on the couch.

“Bored? Again? Really?”

Luke shrugs and runs around the couch to launch himself at his dad. Eddie catches him with one arm, not spilling a drop of water from his bottle in the other. It’s hot, really, how effortlessly strong he is. You’d been by the garage he works at twice when your car was acting up, and the way Eddie looked bent over the hood or slid underneath the car had you thinking of ways to sabotage your own vehicle.

Ryan tugs on your sleeve and points down at his homework again.

“Right,” you say, shifting in your chair to look down at the paper again.

“I can help him with his homework,” Eddie says. You glance up and shoot him a smile.

“It’s no problem. Looks like you’ve got your hands full anyway.”

Luke lets out a war cry as he hangs onto his dad’s arm, little legs kicking dangerously close to Eddie’s crotch.

“Watch the goods,” Eddie warns him. You’re forced to look back down at Ryan’s worksheet and try desperately not to think of said goods. Not like you haven’t thought about them every single day since you met him.

“Enormous!”

“What?” Your head jolts up to look at Ryan, cheeks heating up and eyes wide.

“That’s the next word! I know this one!”

Letting out a deep breath, your eyes see the next word on the page is indeed “enormous.”

“Very good,” you tell him.

“I know it ‘cause it’s in my favorite book,” the seven-year-old tells you with a proud smile on his face.

“You’re such a smartie,” you tell him and ruffle his hair. He kicks his legs back and forth under the table and his tongue pokes out of his lips as he looks at the next word on the paper. Both boys have the same habit of sticking out their tongues when they’re concentrating, just like their father.

Ryan is able to sound out most of the remaining words on the list on his own, only needing your help once or twice. He happily puts his homework away, excited to show his teacher tomorrow how well he did. When he goes off to play in his room, Luke following behind him, you stand up and grab your bag. Eddie’s leaning against the doorway in the kitchen and your eyes catch the clock over his shoulder. Usually, Brittany’s home by now. You must make a face at the thought. Either that or Eddie can read your mind – which you really hope isn’t the case.

“Said she’s working late,” Eddie says.

“Mm,” you hum. That’s bullshit and you both know it. You don’t trust yourself to say anything about her without insulting his wife to his face, so you keep your mouth shut.

“What do you want for dinner tomorrow?” Eddie asks.

“Anything as long as you’re not cooking it.” Your teasing smirk has him pushing off the wall and knocking his shoulder into you as he walks past.

“Oh, you’re so funny,” he says dryly as he opens the fridge and grabs a beer.

“Whatever the kids want,” you say, answering his original question.

Eddie snorts as he opens his beer. He turns back to you and your eyes involuntarily track the bottle up to his lips and the way his throat moves when he drinks. You really have to stop staring at him when all he’s doing is simply taking a drink.

“They’ll eat anything, you know that,” Eddie says once he’s taken a sip. If he noticed the way you were looking at him, he doesn’t let it show. “You’re a pickier eater than they are.”

You scoff and reach out to swat his arm, making him chuckle.

“I am not,” you say. He raises his eyebrows at you and sets his beer down on the counter.

“So, should I pick up sushi on the way home from work tomorrow?”

“Oh, come on,” you whine. “That’s like, the one food I don’t like.”

“Uh huh,” he says, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “I’ll leave money for pizza, then.”

“I can afford a pizza, Eddie,” you say. When you’d first met, he’d almost winced when you called him “Mr. Munson.” He’s just been Eddie ever since.

“You’re not paying for a pizza my kids are going to eat most of,” he says. “S’bad enough you’re working outside of your usual schedule.”

“Eddie,” you say, taking a step towards him. “I’m your babysitter. It’s literally my job to watch your kids when you’re not going to be home. My schedule is whenever you need me.”

“It’s a Friday night, you should be going out,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“I could’ve said I was busy, and I couldn’t watch them. But I wasn’t, so I am. Besides, it’s your anniversary.” At this, Eddie gives a quick roll of his eyes which you politely ignore. “I wasn’t going to just bail on you. Besides, I didn’t have a date or plans with friends or anything.” You think you’re imagining the spark of fire in his eyes when you mention a date, but you secretly hope you’re not.

“Which is ridiculous,” Eddie says. “Don’t understand how you’re not constantly hanging out with friends or dating or stuff.” He shrugs and takes a step closer to you. “You work too hard. At school and work.”

“But I’m passing my classes,” you tell him. What you don’t tell him is that you’ve turned down invitations to hang out with friends, frat parties, and even dates because you’d rather watch Ryan and Luke just to see Eddie for the brief moments before he left and when he got home. You’ve never admitted that to anyone, actually, because you know it’s pretty pathetic to be so enamored with the father of the kids you babysit.

“Of course you are,” Eddie says. He smiles and reaches out to tug on a lock of your hair. “You’re ridiculously smart. Can be anything you want to be.”

Your wife, you think before mentally smacking yourself. He’s married. And celebrating his anniversary tomorrow. Even if his wife is a cheating, lying bitch.

“I’m working on it,” you say. Speaking of which, you have a paper due tomorrow so you probably should leave. As much as you really don’t want to. “I should head out.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will.”

Eddie walks you to the front door and you grip the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles are turning white. It’s not fair, this effect he has on you. It’s maddening.

“Get home safe,” Eddie says as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks.” You give him a small smile as you step outside. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

When you step up to the Munson door the next day, you can already hear Brittany screaming at one of the kids somewhere in the house. For as long as you’ve known the family, the kids have never once given you a reason to scream at them, nor have you seen Eddie ever get above slightly raising his voice at them. Before you lift your fist to knock, you let out a loud, long groan, releasing all the tension already in your body since you’re about to be given more.

Brittany answers after a long minute of you waiting. Half of her dirty blonde hair is up in curlers and there’s a mascara wand in her hand. She looks crazed, which isn’t too far off, you think.

“Oh. Aren’t you early?” No hello, no greeting.

“Um, I don’t think so. Eddie told me five.”

“Oh.” She walks away from the door, leaving it open behind her, and you know that’s the closest thing to an invitation inside that you’re going to get. Taking advantage of being alone in the entryway, you roll your eyes as you toe off your shoes and close the front door. Luke’s laying on the couch, watching Lady and the Tramp, so you plop down next to him and squeeze his ankle.

“Hey, you,” you say.

“Hi,” Luke says, eyes never leaving the animated dogs on the screen. His five-year-old mind is clearly immersed in the story, so you decide to leave him alone and head into the kitchen. There’s a pizza menu on the table, along with a twenty-dollar bill. You huff a laugh and go to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

“Hey, have you seen my…” Eddie comes around the corner, only in a pair of fitted black pants, and stops short when he sees you. A smile appears on his face as he looks at you though, which only causes your stomach to flutter more than it already was at seeing him shirtless. You refuse to take your eyes off of his because you know you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from gawking at his chest and soaking in every little detail of his pale skin. “You’re not my wife.” Yeah, I fucking know, you think. Don’t remind me.

“Maybe I could still help,” you say. “Have I seen your what?” Your voice sounds scratchy, so you take a large sip of water, hoping he’d only think you sounded off because you’re thirsty. And you are. In multiple ways.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Eddie says.

Yeah, because the bitch was screaming, you think.

“Brittany let me in.”

“Honestly, you can just walk in whenever you get here,” Eddie says. “You’re family at this point.”

Say I’m like a little sister to you and I will cry.

“I’ll remember that,” you say. “Now, what can’t you find this time?”

He throws you a teasing glare as he walks over to the counter, shuffling through the clutter there.

“I’m looking for a small blue bag. I thought it was in my coat pocket, but I can’t find it.”

“You sure?” You’re admiring his naked back as he searches, eyes trailing down to his ass in the beautifully flattering pants, but your eyes snap back up to his as he turns around.

“Listen, my sunglasses were on my head once when I lost them.” “And your wallet was in your hand that one time you were looking for it,” you tease him.

“Okay, Miss Smartypants,” Eddie says as he walks closer to you. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and digs the fingers of his other hand into your ribs, making you let out a loud squeal as he tickles you. Instinctively, you go to push him away and your hands rest on his bare chest. You swear you can feel physical sparks under your skin as you touch him.

“Eddie!”

The yell coming from his bedroom has Eddie dropping his head forward and letting out a sigh. Reluctantly – you’d like to think, anyway – he lets go of you and shoots you half a smile as he makes his way down the hall. Your head is filled with a dizzying excitement and the urge to cry all wrapped up in one. Turning to walk back towards the living room, you catch sight of Eddie’s coat draped over a kitchen chair. With a smirk on your face, you walk over to it and slip your hands into the pockets. Unsurprisingly, you pull out a small blue paper bag from the left pocket.

“You adorable scatterbrain,” you mumble to yourself as you put it back where you found it.

Ryan runs down the hallway and almost bumps into you. He slides to a stop on his socks and grins as he pounces on you. His arms wrap around your middle, and you chuckle as you hug the boy back.

“Missed me, huh?” you ask.

“Yes! And guess what?”

“What?” you ask, pulling back to look at him. His head tilts up to face you, a smile identical to his dad’s beaming up at you.

“I got an A on my spelling test today!” “You did? Oh, I’m so proud of you!” You pull him in for another hug and kiss the top of his head. He chuckles and squirms out of your grip.

“Dad says I get to pick a new book at the store this weekend.”

“That’s amazing, buddy,” you tell him. “I told you you’re a smartie.”

“We gonna get pizza?” Ryan asks, eyes catching the menu on the table.

“We are,” you tell him. “What kind do you want?”

“Sausage,” he says, not to your surprise.

“And Luke will want pepperoni,” you say.

“Wow, you’d think you’ve been here before,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. If it was possible for a voice to smirk, his would be doing it now. Unfortunately, when he enters this time, he’s in a shirt. It’s a nice shirt, though. It’s a beige color with razor-thin black stripes going vertically down. The sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, showing off your favorite of all his tattoos: the bats. You’ve spent far too much time thinking about those seven inked bats.

“Heard you’re taking a trip to the bookstore this weekend,” you say to Eddie. A proud look comes to his face as his eyes shift to his son. It’ll never cease to make your heart soar, seeing how much he loves his children.

“Sure are,” Eddie says. “And he gets whatever he wants.”

Ryan’s grin grows and he walks over to his dad who musses his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Oh, I found your missing bag.” A smug smirk comes to your face as you cross your arms over your chest. Eddie’s eyes shoot up to you.

“Where?” he asks.

“Your pocket,” you say through a laugh.

“Are you shitting me?” Ryan shoots his dad a dirty look and Eddie just shrugs apologetically at him. He makes his way over to his coat and lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls the bag out. “I could’ve sworn I checked there. Jesus, you’re a lifesaver.” Eddie opens the bag as Ryan leaves the kitchen, going to join his brother in the living room. There’s a small black velvet box in Eddie’s hand and his eyes flit up to yours. “Want to see?”

“Duh.”

Inside there’s a diamond necklace with a delicate silver chain. You gasp as your eyes take in the piece of jewelry. It’s gorgeous. Eddie smiles as you lean in to take a better look. The charm is the silver outline of a heart with a diamond right in the middle. It’s the perfect size and you can basically feel how it would rest against your skin. But, of course, it’s not for you. It’s for the woman who’s cheating on him. The thought has you pulling back from the necklace, and you clear your throat.

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him. “She’s going to love it.”

“You think?” Eddie asks as he closes the box.

“How could she not?” you ask, a small, forced smile on your face. How could she not love the necklace? How could she be such a lying bitch all the time? How could she cheat on such a wonderful and gorgeous husband? You’d never understand how her mind works.

Eddie replaces the gift in his pocket just as Brittany walks into the kitchen, hair and makeup now complete. As awful as she is, you can’t deny that she’s pretty. Her heart-shaped face framed by long wavy hair, and bright blue eyes underneath thick, dark lashes. She’s wearing a dark red dress that hugs her curves and you feel suddenly self-conscious in your jeans and t-shirt. It’s obvious why Eddie would fall for her when they were teenagers, but it’s not as obvious why he’s stayed with her all this time.

“Ready?” Brittany asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says. He grabs his coat from the chair and shrugs it on his shoulders.

“Make sure they take a bath,” Brittany says as she snatches her purse up from the counter.

Before you can answer, Eddie steps in.

“Britt, she knows,” Eddie says. You give him a grateful smile. You’re pretty sure that you’ve gotten her kids to take more baths than she ever has. At least they like and listen to you.

You follow both of them into the living room where Brittany snaps her fingers at her sons to get their attention. It’s like she thinks they’re the dogs they’re watching on the television.

“We’ll be back after you’re asleep.” The boys are hardly paying attention to her. “Listen to her more than you do me.”

Her. Not even your name. But they’re always great for you, something you’d love to rub in her smug face.

Eddie actually goes over to give his sons hugs and kisses goodbye, which they both return wholeheartedly. Brittany checks her watch as Eddie gives Luke one more kiss.

“Be good,” he tells them, to which they nod. “Thanks again for watching them.”

You wave him off as you follow them to the front door. Brittany strolls out, heels clacking on the pavement outside as she marches to the car. Eddie gives you one more smile before he digs his keys out of the pocket and follows after his wife. With a sigh, you shut and lock the door behind him. God, what you wouldn’t give to be in Brittany’s place.

When the pizza’s been ordered and delivered, you and the boys sit on the couch and watch The Muppets. You’re not paying much attention to the show, but Ryan’s question takes you by surprise.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

You almost choke on the piece of cheese that just slid down your throat. A glance at the television screen shows Miss Piggy and Kermit on a romantic date, which makes you realize Ryan’s train of thought.

“Oh, no, I don’t,” you tell him.

“Mom wants you to,” Luke says, eyes never leaving the screen. Your head turns so quickly that you hear your neck crack.

“What?” you ask.

“We heard Mom and Dad talking,” Ryan says in between bites. “Mom said you should have our Uncle Dustin as your boyfriend.”

“O-Oh?” You shift in your seat, the room suddenly feeling hot. Part of you knows you’ll regret it, but you need to know. “What did Daddy say?”

“He said no,” Luke says matter-of-factly.

The way your heart soars is ridiculous, and you know that, but you can’t help it.

“Did they say anything else?” you ask, voice cracking.

“Daddy told Mom that she shouldn’t start you up with anyone,” Ryan says. Your brow furrows in confusion as you think for a minute.

“You mean ‘set me up?’” you ask.

Ryan shrugs and takes another bite of his pizza.

“Then Mom yelled at us to go back to our rooms,” Luke says.

Your head is spinning but you can’t exactly grill the children or ask them what they think this means. All you can do is pretend to watch The Muppets and finish your pizza as your thoughts circle around your mind.

The boys take their baths with no problem and Luke only asks for one extra bedtime story, which is good for him. Once you’ve checked that they’re both asleep, you pad down the hallway towards the living room. It’s chilly in the house and you rub your hands over your bare arms. An idea strikes you and your head swivels in the direction of the master bedroom. They wouldn’t be home for hours, so what’s the harm of wearing one of Eddie’s hoodies? You slip into the room and aren’t surprised to find it messy. You could count the number of times you’ve been in here on one hand and it was usually trying to find something with the boys.

With them asleep and you having the time, you let your nosey nature take hold of you and look around the room. There’s a television tucked into one corner, balanced precariously on a small end table. The comforter on the bed is a pea green color that you hardly think Eddie would've picked out. Photo frames dot the white walls, most filled with smiling pictures of Ryan and Luke from infancy to the present day. There are only a few photos that have both Eddie and Brittany in them, and hardly any of just the two of them alone. The one exception is their wedding photo hanging on the wall opposite the bed. You smile at younger Eddie looking at the camera. He looks so handsome in his black tux, bowtie looking so foreign around his throat. Brittany looks stunning in her gown and if you didn’t know her, you’d think they make a cute couple. But you sneer at the bride looking at you from the other side of the glass and turn away from the picture.

A black hoodie rests on top of a pile of clothes next to the bed and you swipe it up. Slipping it over your head, you smile at the warmth and scent of Eddie that fills you. You make your way back to the living room and wrap your arms around yourself as you walk. Grabbing the remote from where it sits on the coffee table, you settle in on the couch. There’s nothing good on as you flip through the channels, so you decide to get up and pop The Princess Bride into the VHS player.

When it’s a little more than halfway through, you hear keys jingling at the front door and you sit up, watching as the doorknob turns. Eddie walks in, alone, and tosses his keys down on the small hall table near the door. You watch him with a frown on your face as he strips off his coat and hangs it up on the coat rack with a sigh. There’s a dejected look on his face as he kicks his shoes off. He turns to you and gives you a sad smile before coming to sit down next to you.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Brittany?” you ask.

“According to her?” Eddie asks with a disbelieving laugh. “Her sister’s. Probably one of her boyfriends’ places though.”

“One of?” Your eyebrows shoot up and Eddie shrugs.

“I’ve lost count,” he admits. It was never said out loud between you and Eddie, but you both knew the other knew that Brittany was having an affair. Or affairs, apparently. Eddie fishes the small velvet box containing the diamond necklace out of his pants pocket and tosses it on the coffee table. “She, uh, got mad when I gave her the necklace.”

“Mad?” you ask. “Why the hell would she get mad?”

Eddie rubs a hand over his face and shakes his head. He looks so exhausted; it makes your heart ache for him.

“Apparently the diamond is too small for being married for nine years.”

“What the fuck?”

It just slips out of your mouth, but it makes Eddie laugh.

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a sigh. “What the fuck?”

“That’s really shitty,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shrugs and you notice he doesn’t look all that sad. Or surprised.

“How were the kids?” Eddie asks.

“Angels as always,” you tell him. “They’re good kids.”

“They are,” Eddie says with a fond smile on his face.

“Because of you.” You nudge your shoulder against his and he smiles wider.

“Thanks – hey. Is that my hoodie?”

“Oh,” you say, looking down at it. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I was cold. Do you want it back?”

“No, no.” Eddie waves you off. “It looks good on you.”

Your face heats up at his words and he seems to notice. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he nudges your shoulder with his own in return. You lick over your lips and don’t give yourself time to contemplate your next words.

“Anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He turns his head to look at you, eyes roaming over your face, trying to see the meaning behind your words. Heart hammering against your ribs, you decide to bite your lower lip; you can either play it as an attempt at sexy or an innocent gesture, depending on Eddie’s response.

“I always feel better when you’re around.” He speaks softly and it only adds to the intimacy of his words.

Unable to help the smile that comes to your face, you look down at your lap before looking back at Eddie from underneath your eyelashes. He’s watching you, lips parted, eyes darkening. Heat pools down to your core at the look. You situate yourself so you’re facing him on the couch, one elbow perched on the back of it, arm propping your head up.

“Can I ask you something personal?” you ask quietly. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, though.”

“You can ask me anything.”

His words send your stomach flip flopping, and you unconsciously lean in towards him.

“If you know she’s cheating on you, why are you still with her?”

Eddie sighs and looks down to his lap. A sad smile is on his face when he looks back up to you. “She’s pretty awful, isn’t she?” He winces as he says it, like it’s the first time he’s admitted it to anyone besides himself. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place though because she’s still his wife and you don’t want to say anything bad about her. Even if it is all true. When you stay quiet, Eddie shrugs his shoulders and starts to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t know. Guess I’m afraid.”

“Of what?” you ask, voice laced in concern.

He leans his head back until it’s resting on the back of the couch, and he runs his hands over his face.

“Oh, God,” he says. He drops his hands back to his lap and tilts his head to look at you. “I guess there’s this voice inside that keeps saying ‘who else would want me?’”

“That’s not true,” you say without hesitation. You lean forward and bring your hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Don’t say that. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” The self-deprecating smile he’s giving you fills you with ire. How dare this woman make Eddie feel like he’s unlovable. That he’s unwanted. You’ve known from the moment you met him that Eddie was special, and this bitch has had him over ten years and is still too blind to see it.

“Eddie,” you say as you give his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re really fucking awesome.”

He chuckles at that, and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners has your heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings.

“You’re pretty fucking awesome, too,” he says.

“You clean up nice, too,” you tell him as you reach for the buttons on his shirt. The two top ones aren’t fastened, so you let your fingers linger on the third, right where a sparse patch of chest hair starts to peek out. It feels like a game of chicken. Both of you wanting to toe over that line between friendly and too intimate for friends, but neither sure how to make that final push.

“While you look hot in an old sweatshirt,” Eddie says. That was definitely a step over that line, you decide. Face turning pink, you move forward and lift one leg over Eddie’s lap until you’re straddling him. His hands immediately rest on your hips, and you give him a shy smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“This okay?” you ask.

“Very,” Eddie says and pulls you forward by your hips until your chest is up against his. “Shit, I shouldn’t want this.” His beautiful brown eyes are searching your face, taking in every little feature that he finds adorable, that makes you you. “But I have wanted it. For so long.” Your mind is having trouble comprehending that he’s wanted you. Smoke is probably coming out of your ears because he’s short circuited your brain. Realizing you’re just staring at him dumbly, your face flushes.

“Me too,” you admit. Even through the material of all the layers between you, you can feel the hardness your core is resting up against. Giving an experimental rock of your hips over it, you let out a whine. Eddie shudders and his eyes fall closed. How long has it been since Brittany’s made him feel good? Slept with him? Touched him? Even looked at him in a way that would please him? How she’s not constantly on her knees for her husband is incomprehensible to you.

You trail your hands from his neck to his shoulders, slowly moving them to rest on his chest. Under your right hand his heart is beating so fast and the thought that you’re the one doing this to him feels wild. You lean and press a soft kiss to his cheek. From there, you move up to whisper in his ear.

“I want to make you feel good.”

Eddie shivers from your words and a soft moan leaves his lips. You trail soft kisses down his jaw, taking your time – it’s agonizingly slow in Eddie’s opinion. Stopping when you’re just shy of his mouth, you pull back and nuzzle the tip of your nose against his. It’s all Eddie needs before he’s cupping your jaw in his large hand and bringing your mouth down against his. The moment your lips touch his, everything feels right. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave five little bruises behind. The kiss starts slow and sweet, but quickly becomes a mess of tongues and breathing into one another’s mouths as you try to taste every part of each other. You slide your hands up to cup Eddie’s neck as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. It causes you to whine and roll your hips down against Eddie’s.

“Shhh,” Eddie says as he pulls back from your lips. His eyes are blown, his mouth is kissed bruised, breaths are shallow, and you think he’s never looked more beautiful. “Don’t want to wake the boys.”

You nod and rest your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath.

“Y-Your room?” you ask shyly.

“Really?” Eddie asks, seeming surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Eddie,” you say with a laugh. “You think I would’ve climbed on your lap and shoved my tongue down your throat if I didn’t want to?”

That’s all the answer he needs. He stands with you still in his lap, and you let out a muffled squeal as you hide your face in his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. Eddie blindly reaches down and grabs the remote from the coffee table.

“Princess Bride, huh?” Eddie asks and you can hear the teasing in his tone.

“It’s a great movie,” you say. “Now are you going to take me to your room?”

The television clicks off and the remote lands on the couch with a thud.

“As you wish.”

You almost melt on the spot with those words. He carries you down the hall, your lips attached to his neck the entire time. Your tongue glides over a particularly sensitive spot and a moan slips free of Eddie’s mouth as he steps in his room. Kicking the door shut behind him, Eddie takes you over to the bed and lays you down on it. Quickly locking the bedroom door, he’s about to crawl on top of you when you slip out from under him and kneel at his feet on the floor.

“Please?” you ask, bringing your hand up to rub over his clothed erection. “Can I please suck you off?”

“Fuck,” Eddie mumbles as his hands fly to his belt. As he works with that buckle, you pop the button open on his pants and pull down the zipper. You help him shove his pants and boxers down until they’re pooled around his ankles, and you let him use you for balance so he can step out of them entirely. Even semi hard his length is ridiculously impressive. Definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you feel yourself getting wetter just from imagining how he’s going to stretch you open.

“Such a pretty cock.” You don’t even realize you’ve said the words until you see his dick twitch and a whimper comes from above you. Spitting into your hand, you reach forward and wrap your hand around the base and jerk him a few times. When you look up at him you see that his eyes have drifted closed and he’s biting his bottom lip. A bead of precum forms on his slit and you lean forward to lick it off.

“Shit,” Eddie swears quietly. After a few more kitten licks to the tip, you engulf the whole head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive ridge of his tip. You bob your head a few times, taking him further and further each time you come back. When you have as much of him as you can possibly handle, you keep jerking the rest with your hand and hollow out your cheeks.

Eddie’s moans are so beautiful that you’re pretty sure you could cum just listening to him. You have to squeeze your thighs together to give yourself some relief as you keep your head moving at a steady pace. Making it your personal mission to get him to hit the back of your throat, you dig your fingers into Eddie’s thighs and pull them in towards you. It works, and Eddie’s chanting your name like a prayer as you gag, tears streaming down your face. You pull off with a pop before dipping down and running your tongue over his balls.

“You’re going to kill me,” Eddie says with a breathy laugh. His cock, covered in your spit, keeps bumping against your face as you mouth at his sack. When your nose bumps into his shaft, you pull off of his balls and run your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You swirl your tongue around the tip a few more times before you let him fall from your mouth.

“I want you to cum in my mouth. But I want you to cum inside me even more.”

Eddie’s entire chest is flushed, and you grin in satisfaction. He looks too blissed out to speak so you start at his knee and press sweet kisses up his leg. When you get to his hip, you pull back to inspect the artwork there. The tattoo is right in the dip of his hip, below the V that leads to his dick. It’s a crescent moon made from what looks like thorns and twigs. One of the twigs is hanging longer than the rest so that it almost looks like the moon is a sickle and the long branch it’s handle. You press a few soft kisses against the inked skin before slowly running your tongue over it.

“Any other surprise tattoos I’m going to find?” you ask with a smirk as you stand up.

“Only one way to find out.” Eddie grins and pulls you against his body to attach his lips to yours. His grip on you is firm, but never too tight. Like you’re delicate, not fragile.

Eddie backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed and you only break the kiss to crawl up towards the pillows. Eddie undoes the button on your jeans, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off. He tosses them to the floor and picks up your ankle in one hand. The open mouth kisses he starts pressing against the skin of your ankle and up your calf has you trembling under his touch. His kisses continue up until he’s kissing the inside of your thigh. When he gives the gentlest of bites to the meat of your leg, he runs his tongue over it to soothe the skin. His nose nudges the edge of your panties, and he looks up at you with his impossibly alluring eyes.

“Wanna taste you so bad, baby. Can I?”

Your hips buck at his words and you’re nodding your head, unable to speak.

He hooks his fingers on the elastic of your purple cotton panties and slides them down your legs until they’ve joined your jeans on the floor. Before leaning back down between your legs, Eddie undoes the buttons on his shirt and slips it off his shoulders. Standing completely bare in front of you, you’re not sure which is throbbing harder, your heart or your pussy.

You go to reach for the hem of the hoodie that you’re wearing, but Eddie stops you.

“Wanna lick your pussy while you’re wearing my clothes.”

You’re forced to throw a hand over your mouth to stifle the whine that leaves your lips. How you’re going to survive this without making any noise, you have no idea.

Eddie situates himself between your legs and a shyness suddenly comes over you and your legs start to close.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie tuts. “Come on, let me see you.”

Face burning, you open your legs back up and are rewarded with the hottest groan you’ve ever heard. “Fuck, baby.” Using his large hands, he spreads your legs a little wider to give him a better view. You whimper as he stares at your sex, feeling vulnerable in a way you’ve never felt before.

“God, you have such a pretty pussy, baby.” He slides a finger through your folds and you’re already so wet that it makes a schlick sound as he collects your arousal with his hand. “So, so wet. This all for me, baby?”

“You,” you pant out. “All for you. Only for you.”

His thumb finds your clit and your back arches off the bed, hips cantering as you try to hold back a moan.

“Shit baby, I can’t wait to hear those pretty noises you make.”

He can’t wait? Does this mean he wants to do this again? Somewhere where you’re the only two there so you can be as loud as you want? A particularly tight circle over your clit yanks you out of your head and back into your body that’s experiencing nirvana. His head dips down and he runs his tongue flat from your hole up to your sensitive little button. He does it again and his nose catches your clit on the way up, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

Eddie’s tongue is long. You’ve noticed it many, many times over the year, and you often wondered just how talented that large muscle was. Now that you’re finding out, you know that no other tongue could ever compete. His tongue goes from flicking over your bundle of nerves to teasing your hole.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” Eddie says into the crook of your thigh. His words go straight down between your legs. “Fuck, watching your hole flutter is about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It wants you so bad,” you whine.

Eddie answers your prayer and slips a thick finger inside of you. It’s not nearly enough but you’re too busy focusing on the fact that part of Eddie is inside you. It’s something you’ve thought about almost every night for a year now.

A second finger slips in beside the first one and you bite your lip as his fingers explore. He crooks his fingers up and you’re seeing stars as he presses into that magical spongy spot inside of you.

“Close,” you whine out. “N-Need your mouth.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

If the nickname wasn't enough to have you teetering on the edge, his tongue flicking and sucking your clit as his fingers pump in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot every time was doing the trick.

“Shit, Eddie,” you say as quietly as you can. “I’m – fuck – I’m coming.”

“Come on, baby,” Eddie encourages. “Cum on my tongue.”

Once Eddie feels your walls spasming against his fingers, he quickly replaces them with his tongue so he can lick you through your orgasm. You throw your head to the side, muffling your moans into a pillow next to you. They’re still loud but stifled enough.

Eddie crawls up your body, the lower half of his face covered in your slick.

“You taste so fucking perfect, baby,” Eddie says. “Pretty sure I’m addicted now.”

“I’ll give you your fix for as long as you want it,” you say.

His grin is feral as he leans down and captures your lips with his. Eddie licks into your mouth and you moan into him as you taste yourself. Breaking away for air, he smirks when he sees he’s smeared your slick on your own face. He reaches down and wipes it away with his thumb, the act so soft compared to the tantalizing kiss.

“Can I take this off now?” you ask, squirming in the hoodie. “I’m hot.”

“Hell yes you are,” Eddie says, hands slipping under the sweatshirt and helping you take it off. Your t-shirt is next, getting tossed somewhere behind Eddie. Left only in your black silky bra, Eddie cups your breast in his hand, making you arch your back up into his touch. Taking advantage of your body coming up off the bed, he reaches around and unhooks your bra, letting the straps fall down your arms. A whine escapes you as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You slip the bra fully off and tangle your fingers in Eddie’s hair as his mouth attaches to the nipple on your other breast, tongue swirling over the hardened bud.

Eddie’s hips rock against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your folds for friction, catching against your clit with every other thrust. He pulls off your nipple with a pop and trails his hot tongue over your collarbone and up your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as Eddie blows against the wet stripe on your neck, the contrast in temperatures making you tighten your hold in his hair. When you give a little tug, a soft moan slips from Eddie’s lips.

Hands trail down your sides as Eddie attaches his mouth to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. You’re sure there’s going to be a mark there tomorrow and the thought fills you with pride. You’ll gladly show off your marked body from Eddie, looking in the mirror every time you need a reminder that this night happened.

“Need you inside me, Eddie,” you whisper.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie says against your neck. He reluctantly pulls his mouth from your skin to lean over to his nightstand. You grab his wrist before he can open the drawer though.

“No,” you say. “Want to feel you. All of you.”

Eddie looks down at you, hand coming to cup your face.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

“M’on the pill,” you say as you nod your head. “Please, Eddie.”

There was nothing Eddie wouldn’t give you, especially when you asked so politely.

Not sure if this would ever happen again, you wanted to make sure you got the full experience.

Eddie reaches down and grabs his cock, gathering your slickness as he rubs in between your folds. Your hips are rocking and you’re letting out small breathy whines, driving Eddie absolutely crazy. A gasp escapes your lips as the head of Eddie’s cock presses against your entrance. He swallows the sounds with his mouth, bracing himself on one forearm as he pushes into you.

Your fingers grip Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into the soft, warm skin.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth, letting your delicious wet warmth pull him in. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“S-So big, Eddie,” you whimper against his cheek. You’re not just blowing smoke either; the thick head of Eddie's cock stretching you in the most pleasurable way you’ve ever experienced. You keep thinking there can’t possibly be more for him to give you, but he just keeps filling you. When he finally bottoms out, you feel like you could burst from how full you feel.

Eddie presses his forehead against yours as he stills, giving you a moment to adjust. All your whimpering and whining has him twitching inside of you, reveling in the grip of your cunt.

“Please…please move.” You’re already looking up at him with such a fucked out expression that Eddie isn’t sure he’s going to last long. The only pleasure he’s gotten has been from his own hand for months now, so going from that to your perfect pussy has him feeling like he’s a teenager again. Granted, most of the time he had himself gripped in his fist he was thinking about you, but the real thing is much, much better.

He pulls his hips back and you moan into Eddie’s shoulder as you feel every little drag of his cock against your walls. You’d never been with anyone like this before; there’s always been a condom before. But this was Eddie and everything you’ve ever wanted.

Once he’s pulled almost all the way out, Eddie slides back in, hips starting a steady pace. He drops his head down into your neck and groans, the sound making you clench around him. You wrap your legs around Eddie’s hips, clinging to him in every way possible. Every inch of your skin is pressed up against Eddie’s, unable to tell whose sweat is whose.

“You feel perfect,” Eddie murmurs against your neck. “Such a perfect little pussy.”

When the head of his cock hits just the right spot, you gasp and dig your fingers in even harder to his shoulders. Your eyes are rolling back in your head as Eddie keeps the same angle, hitting that spot over and over again.

“Fuck, Eddie. Making me feel so good.”

He pulls back to look at your face and your fucked out expression has his hips picking up their pace. Sweat shining on your skin and pieces of hair sticking to your face, Eddie thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Feels good?” Eddie asks, to which you nod dumbly. He smirks and his hips start to fuck into you faster. “Such a good girl, for me. Pussy taking me so well.”

Looking at him through heavily lidded eyes, your mouth hangs open as he fucks all the thoughts from your head.

“Wanna be your g-good girl,” you manage to get out.

“Oh, you are,” Eddie says. “My sweet, perfect girl.” He leans down and attaches his lips to your jaw.

Eddie calling you his girl has you forgetting you’re supposed to be quiet, and a breathy moan escapes you.

“Shhh, baby,” Eddie says. “The boys are sleeping.” You nod and a smirk comes to his face. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Get you all nice and knocked up?”

The way your face crumbles in pleasure has Eddie realizing he’s found another sweet spot of yours.

“Aw, you want my babies, princess? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Shit baby, you’d look so gorgeous: round stomach, tits full.”

“C-Close, Eddie,” you whisper, voice giving out on you.

Eddie dips his two fingers into your open mouth, and you instinctively swirl your tongue around them. The sensation has Eddie closer to his peak as well. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and reaches down to rub at your swollen clit.

Eddie leans in to devour your pulse point, licking and sucking and your forehead drops forward to rest on his shoulder. When you pick your head up, your eyes land on the wedding photo on the opposite wall. Eddie starts to rub your clit faster and you feel the tension in your muscles reaching its height. You let go of Eddie’s shoulder with one hand and raise it up to stick your middle finger up at the bitch watching you from the picture frame. A smug smile comes to your lips as you relax back against the pillow, Eddie’s mouth still moving against your neck. She might have a ring on her finger, but her husband is currently fucking you on their marriage bed on their anniversary.

“Eddie,” you moan, and hearing his name fall from your lips has his hips stuttering.

“M’close too, baby,” Eddie says. “Cum with me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out and Eddie leans in to take your lips with his. His hand increases pressure on your clit and the dam breaks, your orgasm crashing over you like being drowned by a tidal wave. Sparks dot your vision and your pussy clenches around Eddie, sending him over the edge right alongside you. Your cunt milks his cum from him, making sure to get every last drop.

Eddie’s dizzy as his high comes to an end and he drops down next to you, immediately burying his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your ear as he attempts to catch his breath.

“Wow,” you breathe out, making Eddie chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss right below your ear. “Wow.”

You’re staring up at the ceiling and Eddie is staring at you. When you close your eyes, Eddie smiles at the way your eyelashes brush against your skin, how your cheeks are rosy from the exertion. You blink your eyes open and turn your head to the side to look at Eddie.

“Hi,” Eddie says, a dopey smile on his lips. It makes you giggle.

“Hi.”

He reaches over and slides his hand along your jaw, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“Look,” Eddie says as he pulls away from your lips. “What I said about h-having my babies, I…”

“It was hot,” you say with a smile, cutting him off. “I liked it.” The blush on your face gives away just how much you enjoyed it. And I actually want it, you think, but would never say.

You turn on your side to face him and Eddie scoots closer until his nose is right up against yours.

“I should feel guilty,” Eddie says after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “But I don’t. I felt guiltier about wanting you all this time than I do about having sex with you.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time?” It feels like the smile is never going to leave your face.

“How could I not?” Eddie asks. “You’re pretty fucking amazing.”

A blush blooms on your face and Eddie reaches over to pull you into his arms. Taking full advantage of the opportunity, you wrap your arm around his waist and nuzzle your face into his neck.

“You’re pretty amazing, too,” you tell him. “That’s why I’ve wanted you all this time.”

“Did you mean what you said before?” Eddie asks in a quiet voice. “About any woman being lucky to have me?”

You frown and pull away to look Eddie in the eye.

“Yes, Eddie. You deserve so much better than her. Shit, if I were your wife, I’d be waiting to jump on you every time you walked through the door.”

Dread pools in your stomach as you realize what you’ve just said. Eddie only smirks at your blush though, tucking you back into his side.

“I love how you make me feel,” he says softly.

“Daddy?”

The doorknob twists back and forth and you thank God that Eddie had the foresight to lock the door. You – reluctantly – slip out of Eddie’s arms and crawl around on the floor, gathering your items of clothing.

“Where are my jeans?” you whisper to Eddie as he slides a pair of sweatpants up his hips. He shrugs but tosses you the hoodie that he’d stripped from your body before. You hide on the floor on the other side of the bed, trying to slip back into your underwear as Eddie opens the door, stepping into the hallway to talk to his son out there.

“What’s up, Luke?”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Uh, she’s at Aunt Sandy’s.”

You hear Luke ask where you are as you slip on the rest of your clothes, sans the jeans. There’s a pair of Eddie’s pajama pants on the floor that you grab and slide into.

“Oh, I think she’s in the bathroom,” Eddie says to Luke. “What’re you doing up, buddy?”

“Bad dream,” he says, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s pouting.

“Wanna go watch some tv?”

Their footsteps disappear down the hall and you stand up from the other side of the bed. Your eyes are searching the room for your jeans when Ryan steps into the room, rubbing his eyes.

“Whas going on?” he asks with his sleepy voice.

“Oh, hey, Ry,” you say, forcing a smile to your face. “I think Luke just had a bad dream. That’s all.”

He holds his hand out to you and you’re forced to leave the mystery of your jeans behind as you go over to hold his little hand in yours. He tugs you into the living room where Eddie is sitting with Luke on the couch. Ducktales is playing on the television in the dark room, the flickering lights casting shadows on Eddie’s bare chest as he sits with his son. Luke is curled up on a pillow between Eddie and the arm of the couch, already halfway back to sleep.

You sit down next to Eddie and Ryan sits on your other side. He lays his head in your lap and you card your fingers through his soft curls. Eddie tilts his head to give you a smile and you feel a strange sort of warmth spread through your tummy. The four of you tucked onto the same couch makes you want to cry, and you’re not sure if it’s from longing or happiness that it’s currently happening.

After a few minutes, the soft snores of both boys can be heard over the low tv, and Eddie presses a kiss to your shoulder. He leans forward and swipes something off the coffee table before you can see what it is. In the light of the television, you see Eddie open the black velvet box that holds the diamond necklace intended for Brittany. His careful fingers remove it from the box, and he tosses that back onto the table. He unhooks the small silver clasp and looks up at you. When you don’t move, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Gonna leave forward so I can put it on you?”

“What?” you ask, eyes going wide.

“I want you to have this. If you do, that is,” Eddie says. “To be completely honest, I was thinking of you when I bought this.”

At your shocked expression, a bashful look creeps onto Eddie’s face.

“The sales lady asked what I was looking to buy for my favorite girl.”

“That’s…me?” you ask in a breathy voice.

“Who else would it be?”

His smile is so genuine that you can’t help but lean forward and press your lips against his. Eddie hesitates at first, but at the snores coming from either side of you, he kisses you back. When you pull away, you lean forward, and Eddie drapes the silver chain around your neck. Once it’s secure, you lean back and look down at where the heart rests over Eddie’s black sweatshirt.

“It’s perfect.”

“It’s yours.”

The look in his eyes as he says it leads you to think he’s talking about more than just the necklace. Your eyes get misty, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“I should be thanking you,” Eddie answers just as quietly. He lets his head fall down to your shoulder and you press a kiss into his curls. You turn your attention back to the ducks on the screen, and before you know it, Eddie’s soft snores have joined those of the two boys.

About an hour after Eddie falls asleep, you hear a key clanging in the front lock. The door opens and Brittany steps in, quietly taking her jacket and heels off. It’s clear she doesn’t know anyone is still up. She turns towards the living room and her eyes widen as she takes in the image of you on the couch, Eddie’s head on your shoulder, and both boys sleeping on the two of you. You let your eyes rake over her, taking in the smeared makeup, disheveled dress, and bra hanging out of her purse. All you can do is chuckle to yourself when she shoots you an icy glare. Let her prove you did something wrong.

You watch as her eyes take in you wearing Eddie’s pajama pants, his hoodie, and they widen most comically of all when they land on the necklace hanging around your neck. Her nostrils flair and she stomps down the hallway. You can hear her tossing stuff around the master bedroom and when she lets out a mix between a huff and a groan, you know she’s found your jeans.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #babysitter!reader #older!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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draconic-desire · 2 months

Text

A Dance With the Dragon II — Mates

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II — You are here] [Part III]

Neuvillette brings you to your new “home”, which also comes with new challenges.

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, forced imprisonment, Neuvillette accidentally goes a little feral here, brief non-con at the end

One of the first things Neuvillette did was move you from the apartment at the Palais Mermonia (your prison for the past four centuries) to his personal residence. Securing his palms to your waist, he teleported you directly into the foyer of the massive home.

The interior was splashed with blues and whites that matched the Chief Justice’s own color palette. The upper walls were decorated with friezes depicting various marine creatures, from floating otters (how ironic) to bobbing seahorses. A grand spiral staircase led to the upper floor, while a set of double French doors connected the foyer to a massive living room adorned with plush love seats and armchairs, tasteful artwork of Fontainian landscapes, and enormous windows that overlooked the sea. It appeared the house was set into a cliffside, with the waves battering the rocks far beneath you.

You paced into the living room, running your hand along the blue silk couch cushions. To your left, a door led out to what appeared to be an inclosed courtyard with a miniature fountain. To the right was a closed door, a familiar dragon carved into its exterior. Your arm burned in resonance.

Though you were loathe to admit it, the place was beautiful.

“Do you like it?”

Shifting your gaze to him, it was clear that Neuvillette was desperate for your approval. Ever since he let you outside to discover the true length of your imprisonment, you had rarely spoken a word to him. Clearly, your silence had done a number on him, as the normally composed man was fidgeting nervously.

When you kept quiet, Neuvillette cleared his throat. “I admit, part of why things took so long was due to my insistence that everything be perfect for your arrival. I rearranged our bedroom perhaps a dozen times, and I couldn’t for the life of me decide what your personal room should entail.” When you glanced out towards the fountain, he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, that was a…sentimental addition. It makes me think of how we met.”

You’d never forget that Archons-damned fountain. If only you hadn’t been so naive. Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, go away.

Neuvillette extended his palm towards you in what appeared to be both a peace offering and an order. “Shall I give you a tour?”

Suddenly your feet appeared very interesting. What were you supposed to say? This technically was your home now, like it or not. You’d become painstakingly familiar with it with time. Although you weren’t imprisoned within the Palais as before, your new life still promised shackles nonetheless.

“Could you just show me my personal room?” You sighed. “I’d prefer to just rest after that.”

Neuvillette smiled softly, relishing the sound of your voice. “Of course.”

Twisting his fingers through your own, he led you towards the dragon door. Once again, your hidden tattoo pulsed with energy. It felt like a pull forward, a welcoming embrace. You realized then that there must be some sort of warding spell on this room, likely meaning only you and your captor could enter.

Marvelous.

Pushing the door open, Neuvillette swept his arm gracefully through the entrance. “After you, my love.”

You stepped in and immediately went still.

For in every direction around you was rows upon shelves upon stories of books.

Neuvillette had build you your own personal library.

And not just that. You noticed that entire sections pertained to your personal interests—marine biology, photography, even your personal favorite genres of novels. A separate door labeled Dark Room promised an avenue for you to pick up photography again. Similar couches and chairs as the living room were arranged around a huge coffee table, and a cracking hearth added to the cozy atmosphere.

Your throat bobbed. You had always dreamed of owning a room like this, a place where all your passions converged. But to have it under these circumstances…you didn’t know how to react, torn between frustration and a grateful little voice in the back of your head that you buried at once. No, I didn’t earn this. I don’t want this. It was forced on me.

All you could choke out was, “This is…mine?”

“Down to the last book.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “I spent the most time on this room. Over a century to get it right.”

You startled. A century? Your heart stumbled, but your hands fisted by your sides. So much given, yet what had it cost you?

Shaking your head, you simply said, “I’d like to be alone.” Connecting your eyes with his, you could see his hurt, the expectation of a grand reaction on your part that you refused to indulge.

However, the look was quickly wiped from his face, for he must have seen something broken in your facade. A muscle in his jaw feathered as he approached you, a gloved hand stroking your cheek. “I understand you must be overwhelmed. I’ll leave you to explore,” Neuvillette said, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading for the exit.

“Neuvillette?”

Said man turned back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Why me?” You grabbed your arm where the shadow of your draconic tattoo hid. “Why…all this?”

His gaze immediately softened. “My dear, we have centuries for me to show you.”

~*~

It was times when Neuvillette was vulnerable that it was hardest to hate him.

He had returned home after a long day at court to find you sitting in the courtyard on the edge of the fountain, peering up at the night sky as if the stars held some answers. Moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, and if he didn’t already think you a goddess, he would have pledged himself to you then and there.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, too involved in your own thoughts. True to his word, Neuvillette had given you time and space to enjoy your new (cage) home. You had to admit, it was a major upgrade from the Palais, and you knew the Iudex would continue to let you explore Fontaine, if you tolerated his presence beside you. However, you knew this dance wouldn’t last—it was only a matter of time before Neuvillette expected something in return. It was abundantly clear that he desired your affections, but how far would he go in order to sway you? To fully make you his?

A sea breeze whipped around you, eliciting an involuntary shiver to rip up your spine.

A sudden warmth enveloping your form brought you back to reality. Blinking in surprise, you peered up to see the Chief Justice smiling softly at you, his purple irises sparking with longing and care. His elaborate attire was gone, leaving only his pale undershirt.

He’d given you this coat.

“I…thank you,” you mumbled, averting your eyes from the man.

“Do my ears deceive me? Did my dear (Y/n) actually acknowledge me?”

Your grip on his robes tightened. “Don’t mistake my words for kindness. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”

A sigh. “Despite what you may believe, I’m not a monster.”

You deadpanned. “You’re quite literally the Hydro dragon.”

“Archons above,” Neuvillette whispered, glancing up at the sky as if it held the key to winning your heart. “I was referring to a monster in the definition you humans use.”

“What? You mean like a man who would kidnap and imprison an innocent person—”

“Considering you are not in the Fortress of Meropide, I’d hardly consider this imprisonment.”

“What, have I offended you?” A scoff left escaped you. “If you want to play house, at least own up to your actions. Don’t pretend you’re some sort of gentleman.”

Neuvillette was silent for a beat, his mouth a thin line. Unexpectedly, his muscles relaxed as he released his tension. He lowered his large frame, taking a seat next to you. “You’re right.”

You sketched a brow in surprise.

Neuvillette trained his eyes on his palms, facing upwards in his lap. “I understand neither what it means to be human, nor what it means to be a god. I was given this duty to protect and uphold the laws of Fontaine, and yet I cannot save those who need it most.” His fingers formed fists, and his lids closed solemnly. “Carole, Vautrin…all of the others I have failed…”

You worried your lower lip. Although he had already informed you of his friends’ fate in your absence, it was still a raw wound for the both of you. Yet the anguish in Neuvillette’s eyes twisted your heart. How could a man be so duplicitous, so capable of both justice and blind obsession?

As if sensing your conflict, Neuvillette gently took your face in his hands, tilting your chin so that your eyes locked once again. His eyes danced with silver sparks of emotion, like cracks of lighting across a dark sea. A thumb brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“So if I can protect but one thing, one person, I will do it.”

~.~

You often noticed that Neuvillette’s horns got stuck in his robes.

Honestly, it was kind of humorous. In the beginning, watching him struggle gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. You’d take any circumstance that inconvenienced him, however petty that might be.

But today, seeing the Chief Justice pouring over a case regarding the protection of Fontaine’s sea life at an ungodly hour, head propped on a fist to keep him awake, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic when he emitted a low hiss as his horns tangled into the ornamentation of his attire once again. “Damned human attire,” he cursed.

Neuvillette wasn’t an inherently bad man. In fact, your own case aside, he had invoked significant and positive change in Fontaine’s legal system. He judged cases fairly and prudently, working himself ragged each day to ensure the nation’s safety. It would have been admirable to you in any other circumstance.

You didn’t know what possessed you when you stepped behind him and carefully untangled his twin blue horns.

At your touch, Neuvillette immediately froze. His heart rate skyrocketed and his mind went blank because you were touching him.

And not just anywhere, but his horns. Unbeknownst to you, a dragon’s horns were the most sensitive part of its body, only to be handled by itself or its mate. One brush was akin to a lovers embrace, the whisper of a kiss, the hot breath shared between partners in the thralls of passion. Not only was the touch intensely intimate, it was also an acknowledgement—an acceptance of the male’s advances onto his partner.

Oh, if only you knew how many times he had fantasized about this, your acknowledgement of him and his love for you. Although his rational, human side knew your touch as unintentional, the dragon within Neuvillette reared and roared against his skin, demanding to be set free upon its mate.

“Your horns were caught,” was all you said as you settled back into the sofa, flipping to the marked page of your novel.

If you had looked up, you would have witnessed the Iudex gently touching his horns in awe. He swore he could still feel the brush of your palm against him, shivering delightfully at the mere memory of your touch.

Little did you know that your simple act of kindness would unleash the storm.

~*~

The one unfortunate deviation of your current accommodations from the Palais Mermonia was Neuvillette’s unyielding insistence on sharing a bed.

You had foolishly thought escaping him, even if just within the confines of your shared home, would be simple. You believed the library, what he even referred to as your room, would be your bedroom as well. Despite the lack of an actual bed, the plush couches and ever-lit fire provided more than enough comfort to lull you to sleep.

But when you had opened your eyes, you were mere inches away from Neuvillette’s shirtless, sleeping form.

You had assumed it was due to the draconic symbol guarding the room; perhaps it linked you to him more than you had thought. So, the next night, you decided to sleep in the parlor instead.

Only for your hopes to be shattered the next morning when you awoke not only in bed with your captor, but with your limbs entwined.

Anger, shame, and a touch of something you couldn’t quite place—something not entirely unpleasant—flooded you as you tore yourself out of his embrace. How was he doing this? Was it magic, or would he physically carry you to bed each night?

This pattern repeated itself. You would pick various places around the huge house to retire for the night. However, you would wake up in bed next to Neuvillette each morning without fail.

You had even reverted to your previous stubbornness and slept on the ground a few nights, but to no avail. It seemed you were bound to his bed.

Tonight, you decided to face the issue head-on. You stormed up the stairway and into the spacious bedroom, ignoring the pain in your lower back due to all the errant surfaces you had tried to sleep on. The downy pillows and lush, cream comforter practically begged you to surrender to the king-sized bed and its occupant.

Instead, you halted at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms. “You have to stop this.”

Neuvillette immediately looked up from the tome in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. He hadn’t yet changed out of his white dress shirt, and the buttons revealed a hint of his toned chest as he set the book down. “And what exactly are you demanding I stop?”

You huffed a laugh. “I wish I could say all of this,” you waved your hands around, as if that would convey the entirety of the situation, “but I mean putting me in your bed each morning.”

“Our bed,” he corrected, as if that were the issue.

“No, your bed. Are you really telling me that with all this space, you can’t just let me sleep alone?”

He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them on the nightstand. “I could, but I don’t want to.”

You seethed. “Well, I do.”

Neuvillette’s violet gaze pinned you with something like hurt. “Have I truly done something to upset you? It seemed as if you were settling into our new home quite nicely. Our conversation and touches were…” His throat bobbed. “Pleasant.”

You narrowed your eyes and bit out, “Don’t take any of that as complacency. You’re still a monster.”

Neuvillette flinched in response and, for just a moment, you felt a piece your heart falter. That is, until he whispered, “Mates don’t sleep apart.”

The room went utterly still.

Your voice came out as a breath of air, but the words were clear: “I am not your mate.”

It was then that you noticed the claws emerging from his fingertips, piercing into the sheets under his form. His eyes flashed silver, dangerous as knives. You could have sworn you saw a pair of elongated canines as he grit his teeth. “You have no idea how difficult it has been,” he breathed, voice tight, desperate.

On instinct, you took a pace back. You suddenly felt like a cornered animal, unable to avert your gaze from those claws that looked ready to tear into you. Clearly you had misjudged the situation—the Hydro Dragon was a starved, deadly predator, and you were practically served on a silver platter as its next meal.

Icy panic raced through your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, so out of control and inhuman. Trying to mediate the situation, you put your hands up in surrender. “Neuvillette, listen to me. Just calm down.”

You had hoped that saying his name would do just that, but it seemed to only rile him up further. The Chief Justice of Fontaine actually growled in response. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. “You deny your mate, and now you’re telling me to simply calm down?”

Another step back. Just put out the fire and deal with the consequences later. “I apologize for being confrontational. I think it’s best if I just go—”

Before you could react, Neuvillette pounced forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you onto the bed. You released a cry and tried to scramble away, but he spun you around and pinned your back against the mattress with his muscular frame. He loomed above you on all fours, his hands gripping your arms and applying just enough pressure to hold you still without hurting you. The glint in his eyes, however, promised pain that was yet to come. You were the prey about to get its throat torn out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You struggled, heart skyrocketing at the feel of his arousal pressing against your core.

"Something I’ve needed to do for four hundred years," he growled huskily, his breath fanning your lips moments before they slammed against yours.

The kiss was hungry, predatory. Obsessive. You could feel the release of each year, each century, as his mouth devoured yours. You arched your back in an attempt to get away, but Neuvillette was quicker. He lifted your form easily and slammed your back against the bed once again. At your gasp of shock, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You fumbled around for something, anything that you could take purchase of. Your arms were pinned, but you were just barely able to grab onto the first thing and tug: his horns.

Neuvillette moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent heat flooding through you.

It was in that moment you realized your mistake. You recalled how some marine animals with horns had millions of nerves within them, making these appendages a source of sensory stimulation. When you had started adjusting his horns after they were getting stuck, it must have been like touching his—

Oh, fuck.

Neuvillette released you arms, grinding against your thigh. “Do that again,” he begged, though it came out as more of a growled order.

“Neuvillette, stop—” An involuntary whine escaped your lips.

Your lewd noises only instigated him. His movements became more erratic as he slid a clawed hand up your leg and to your core, which was protected by only a nightgown. You jerked as his finger pinched your clit, eliciting another whine.

Neuvillette’s eyes sparked with heat, dual purple flames that devoured your form. “That’s it, my dear. Let me take care of you.” He bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out. He was marking you before he took you fully.

“Tonight, you become more than my wife. You become my mate.”

~*~

You laid there limply in Neuvillette’s arms. He peppered you with kisses and whispered words of protecting you and lofty dreams of your future together, but it fell on deaf ears. None of it made you forget about the bites along your neck or your throbbing core.

You couldn’t believe you had let his kindness fool you for even a second.

You had to escape this prison.

#yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #dragon #obsessive love #tw kidnapping #tw noncon touching #neuvillette doesn’t understand the concept of personal space #neuvillette is down bad #mates

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ishwarpurigoswami · 2 years

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Grow Moss Indoors And Outdoors

How to grow moss at home? How fast does moss grow? How to grow moss indoors and what species to choose? This post shall give you the answers of these questions and will show you different ideas how to use it creatively. Mosses are some of the most ancient terrestrial plants that live in our time. They belong to the family of Bryophyta and there are more than 10 000 varieties. You can use…

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#Acrocarpous #amazing live compositions #Bryophyta #Cushion moss (Leucobryum glaucum)#grow moss indoors and outdoors #miniature gardens and forest landscapes #Mosses #Pleurocapous #Sheet moss (Hypnum)

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lciesdepravity · 6 months

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Sold Out Series

Sana Arc Chapter 1-1: Everything has a price

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction"

"Karma is a bitch"

"Everything has a price..."

Such statements proved true ever since the beginning of time, and continues to remain true to this day.

We learn it every single moment of our miserable lives - hell, it's even taught to us in school.

And yet here she was.

Sana should've listened to her Science teacher more.

Shame.

When she was first offered the job, she thought it was just another fashion line ambassador deal.

Heck, she was even excited for it. The other members started to get requested to be ambassadors of other luxury brands too, so she figured it was only a matter of time before she got picked as well.

Never in her life could she have expected this.

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It started after the press event.

"Ooof~ Yatta! Mmm~ Finally finished!" The young idol plopped unceremoniously in the backseat, melting into the plush cushions as she takes off her sleek black heels and massages her feet.

"Ugh, that took longer than it should. Can we go home now Oppa?"

"Mian, Sana-shi. The brand CEO is requesting your presence at their hotel's grand ballroom for the after-party, so your night's not over just yet. You know how uppity the higher-ups get about company relations and shit."

That prompted an annoyed scoff and a groan from the idol, but work is work. The manager at least had the decency to look at Sana with pity before driving off.

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Last sched for the day. Sana Fighting! After one final check of her appearance and fixing her hair a bit, Sana steeled herself and put on her most practiced idol smile. She confidently strutted down the hallway and was ushered in.

The after-party was everything you'd expect from a luxury brand and more. The clinking of champagne glasses, the miniaturized posh slop they call food, the fake smiles and empty compliments as everyone 'socialized' with each other. More like leech off each other.

Boring.

The idol rolled her eyes (mentally of course - she was anything but professional after all), and smiled as everyone greeted her. Here we go.

Sana's whole night consisted of greeting sheep - *ahem* PR people, accepting their business cards, a few empty promises here and there, take a picture. Rinse and repeat. Maybe a snack and a drink in between. Basically, she was on autopilot for majority of the event, until a depressed looking woman approached her and bowed.

"Ms. Minatozaki, our CEO requests your presence at the suite. He personally wants to thank and welcome you as our new ambassador."

Not really given a choice, the idol was ushered up to an elevator that led to the suite.

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*Ding*

The sleek metal doors of the elevator slid closed as Sana bade the secretary goodbye. She looked around in awe, marveling at the sheer opulence of the suite. Marbled floors, chandeliers, pristine furniture and antique vases. Expensive. Ugh, I better not break anything. Even with our money, I don't think I can cover for anything in here!

She continued down the hallway until she reached the living room, where she sees an old man in his bathrobe looking out the glass door of the balcony, wine in his hand.

"*Ehem* E-excuse me sir. Y-you wanted to see me?"

"Ah! Sana. Welcome. Please sit. Would you like a drink?"

The old man offered her a glass as she sat down. Sana offered a smile, but politely shook her head.

"I'm sorry sir. I still have schedules for tomorrow, so I can't really drink much tonight. Thank you though."

"I see... Welp, more for me then."

The CEO took a sip as he sat beside the young woman. He stared at her for a bit, his eyes focusing on her necklace.

"Y'know, that necklace of ours really does fit you... Exquisite. I'm happy we got you as an ambassador for our brand. I look forward to working with you more in the future."

"M-me too sir. Thank you for the opportunity." He extends his hand and she shakes it.

Mistake.

His index finger rubs against her palms creepily as he scoots closer to her. She had to fight the urge not to withdraw her hand in disgust, she had to be professional after all. Lucky for her, the CEO let go of her hand. Euck, Gross... What's with this old man?

She tries to scoot away discreetly, but the old man just kept coming near. The young idol keeps shuffling until she felt the end of the couch. Shit... She was trapped.

Sana shivered in disgust as the old man placed his hands on her knees, slowly inching up her thighs as he goes in for a kiss.

*Slap*

The faint stinging in her hand persisted as the slap resonated all around the room. Her heart was pounding - her breaths heavy. Hastily, the young idol got up and gathered her things, leaving the old man to his misery.

*Click*

To her horror, the door was locked.

The old man let out a dry laugh as he moved to refill his empty glass.

"You didn't think our deal with your company was that simple did you?"

With a sip and a condescending smile he looked at the frozen idol.

"That diamond necklace around your neck, that costs hundreds of millions of dollars my dear. We're one of the richest brands in all the world, what makes you think I couldn't just buy you just like that?"

Sana's eyes widened. She felt so sick, her stomach was turning. "T-they didn't-"

"'Fraid so my dear. Your company sold you out to me for a whole damn week."

His grin spread across his face as he watches the young idol blanch at his words in shock.

"T-that's... N-no! I'm not just some whore for you to play around with. I didn't consent to this! Let me out this instant or I'll sue!"

Frantically, she reached for her phone, opening the camera app and taking a video. Ha! This is my evidence. Take that you old geezer.

Her heart dropped as the CEO's smile got even wider.

"Fiesty. Heh~ Go ahead and film... you do that. Meanwhile, I'll be using every single one of my connections to destroy you and your little group. One word from me, and all your sponsorships, all your brand deals - even that of your members... Poof~" To accentuate his point, he held out this phone, hovering his finger over the call button.

She froze.

I-if it's only me, then I can take it. But the members... We worked so hard to get this far... Damnit! Why is this happening to me?

Minutes pass, and all Sana wants to do is cry. Her fists were clenched tight, lips bitten in frustration as her mind raced, thinking of what she should do.

She was interrupted when the old man spoke once again.

"If you're done thinking it over, get your dumb ass over here so I can use you. I'm not getting any younger here. Or should I just call my secretary and cancel everything now?"

She looked at him scathingly with fiery eyes as she walked over to him, her clenched fists shaking in anger. The old man didn't bat an eye. Instead he leaned back, staring at her with those condescending eyes.

"Well? Take that fucking dress off." Sana bit her lips as she hesitated, but the old man just looked at her impatiently. Slowly she stripped, unzipping the back of her dress and letting it fall to the ground. She gave it a light kick as her hands moved to cover her intimate parts, but the sight of her creamy skin was more than enough.

Excited, the CEO got up and cupped her cheeks, tilting it to face him as he looked at her eyes. Rebellious... Defiant... Just the way I like it.

"I'm gonna enjoy breaking you, kpop bitch."

He pushed her on the couch and started his assault. Her eyes shut tight as his tongue snaked along her milky porcelain neck - up, down, over the collarbone and even up to her ears.

*Sniff* "Mmm~ you smell so good Sana. Hmmm~ your scent is driving me crazy." The old man gave her a long wanton sniff that sent chills up her spine.

Fuck... This is so disgusting.... Endure Sana. For the girls... For the fans... For yourself. You have to endure.

Seeing the idol's eyes shut tight, the old man got more brazen. He took both of Sana's wrists and pinned them above her head, exposing Sana's clean shaven armpits. He gave her pits a series of needy sniffs, his breath tickling her a bit.

*Sniff* *sniff* "Ahhhh... You smell so... mmm~ divine." Her sweaty scent was enough to drive the old man into a frenzy. Like a mad dog, he licked the sweat off her pits wantonly, relishing in feeling her shudder against his tongue.

Meanwhile, his free hand groped her ample breasts, kneading them like dough. When he sensed the clip in front, he hurriedly removed her bra and threw it away, revealing her jiggly soft supple mounds...

He gulped. "They're mesmerizing..." Without preamble, the old man dove in and while looking at Sana's face, feasted on her breasts like a newborn baby. He squished them together and teasingly gave her pink dusky nipples a lick, enjoying the way the buds roll off his tongue.

He watched as Sana's expression change with every lick... with every suckle... with every squeeze. He watched as her brows scrunch together, her lips bitten red as she resisted his ministrations. He didn't stop until each bud was fully erect and shiny, thoroughly coated with his spit.

"*Slurp* *pop* Mmm~ yummy... Now, sit up and let me sit behind you."

Not really giving her a chance to resist, he pulled her up and smoothly slid behind her, cradling her between his legs. Much to his dismay, the young woman's eyes were still closed, her face not betraying any emotion. Annoying.

Eager to break her stoic facade, the old man reached between her legs, slipping his hand inside her lacy black panties. Dry... Mmm~ not for long.

With a practiced ease, his hand nimbly removed the young star's panties, unhooking it from one of her legs where one of her heels came off.

"Shaved huh? Shame, I like it hairy."

*Smack!*

Out of nowhere, his hand came down, delivering a light slap to Sana's clit. The Japanese idol bit her lip, a small gasp escaping her as she fought hard to stifle her moans. She didn't want to give in to him, not now, not ever.

*Smack!*

Another slap. Dead center against her core. The old CEO's dominant side took control as he taunted, "Mmm, you like this, don't you, slut? You like this old man slapping your wet pulsing cunt?"

*Smack!*

His hand came down again, this time with more force, causing the young woman's pussy to squelch audibly. His old wrinkly fingers traced the sensitive skin, exploring every inch with a mix of roughness and precision.

All the while, the old fuck buried his nose deep in the poor idol's neck and sniffed her once again, licking and sucking on her pulse point as he humps her plump ass.

*Sniff* "Mmm~ fuck, I can't get enough of your scent. Uhh~ you're worth every fucking penny I paid." His lips brushed against Sana's ear as he whispered naughty things.

*Smack!*

"Ahn~ mmmppph-" A small moan escaped her lips, which she promptly covered with one of her hands. Her face was a flushed mess, and she was panting like a bitch in heat.

W-What is happening? Mmm~ How is he so good at this... No! Sana, fight it! You're not getting horny because of this old pervert. Fight it!

"Yes, hold those moans for me my dear," He whispered into the idol's ear, his warm breath sending tingles down her body. "I like the challenge. I will break that infamous composure of yours, Sana." With a gentle bite to the girl's earlobe, his words pushed her further to the edge.

Each whisper was accompanied by another firm slap to the Japanese pussy, causing her moans to grow louder. Her hips were bucking slightly, and her body was writhing beneath the old man's magic touch. With each passing moment, her pussy gets wetter and sloppier.

Seeing his effect on the poor girl, he smirked. Not long now... just a bit more and she's mine...

With his free hand, he reached up and cupped Sana's perky breasts, her fingers teasingly circling the hardened peaks of her taut, erect nipples.

"Mmm, look at these gorgeous nipples, baby... So pink and so tender for me." He whispered huskily. He pinches each nipple and pulls.

"Fuck, S-stop it," She whimpered, her hips now bucking wildly, thrusting against his hand. Her body trembled with anticipation, craving release.

"That's it. Give in to the pleasure my dear. Let go for me."

As the old man continued to slap her cunt, the wet, lewd sounds filled the air, mixing with Sana's increasingly uninhibited cries.

She couldn't help but respond, her voice trembling with need. "Oh, fuck, D-don't stop... Harder please..."

The old man smirked, his slapping growing more intense, each stroke driving Sana closer to the edge. "You want it harder, huh? You're such a dirty fucking slut. Beg for it. Beg for my hand to pound your wet cunt."

F-fuck! I can't hold it anymore... Uhhh!

Sana's breath hitched as she finally gave in, her voice pleading, begging him. "Please, sir! Pound me! Pound my slutty cunt! I need it so fucking bad!"

*Smack!*

With a victorious grin, the old man slapped her pussy once more. "Who do you belong to? Huh? Tell me who's bitch you are!"

*Smack!*

With her back arching, she screamed, "Yours! I-I'm daddy's little kpop bitch begging to cum. Please make me cum daddy! Daddy! Uhhhh~"

*Smack!* *Smack!* *Smack!*

The old man's hand moved with reckless abandon, the wet slapping sounds echoing across the entire room. Sana's moans filled the air as she surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure building within her. She couldn't hold back any longer, her voice reaching a crescendo of pleasure. "Yes, fuck! Gonna cum! Cumming for you, Daddy! Oh, fuck!"

Upon, hearing her say that, the old man unceremoniously plunged his middle and ring fingers deep into her sweltering cunt. "Yes fucking cum, you slut. Point those toes of yours while cumming. Cum for me, drench my hand while I finger fuck your uptight cunt into submission."

His fingers skillfully hit her g-spot repeatedly, his palms still slapping her clit with each pass.

S-shit! This old man's too good! He's gonna make me cum. This old man's gonna make me cum! Fuck cummingcummingcummingAaaaahhh~!

With a primal scream, Sana's back arched, her legs spreading even wider, her legs quivered uncontrollably, her toes curling and pointing as the immense pleasure surged through every inch of her body.

With a loud squelching sound, her pussy released a torrent of pleasure, drenching the floor below. Sana's eyes rolled back, her body convulsing with sheer ecstasy as he fingered her into oblivion.

Spurt after spurt. Stream after stream she squirted. It took awhile for her orgasm to finally die down. Even then, she was still twitching as the old pervert continued to tease and flick her cunt occasionally.

Not giving her the time to rest, the horny old man took Sana and inverted her on the couch - her legs resting on the backrest whilst her head dangles off the edge.

He hurriedly tossed his robe aside, freeing his throbbing cock and presenting it to a still recovering Sana.

"Open your mouth and stick your tongue out."

His voice was stern, commanding. He took his cock and slapped it against Sana's face and tongue several times, smearing her face with precum and spit.

That is, until he decided the foreplay was enough. In one fell swoop, he fed her throat his cock, not stopping until he bottomed out.

"Glurk! Mmmmpphh~!"

Sana gagged, but the old man just kept pushing. She slapped his thighs, asking for mercy but there's none to be found. Her eyes bulged, tears spilling from the sides as she took his cock fully.

"That's right bitch. Fucking take it! Ahhrgh!"

Not giving her time to adjust, he intensified his thrusts, grabbing her feet and using them as handles. He planted his feet on each side of her head, essentially squatting on her face for every thrust. The sounds of his balls hitting her nose echoed across the room.

The old fuck growled, his voice deep and guttural as he praised Sana's cock-sucking abilities.

"That's it *pound* fuck! fucking take it! *pound* put that kpop mouth of yours to good use! *pound*" he said, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he spoke.

Holy fuck, he's fucking my face so hard. She thought, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. She loved the feeling of him taking control, of him using her for his pleasure. It made her feel so dirty and so desired all at once.

With each powerful thrust, a line of thick drool stretched from his cock to her mouth, his huge balls slapping her nose repeatedly. Sana's saliva mixed with the precum dripping from him, creating a slippery mess as he relentlessly skull fucked her.

"Mhmm, gawk, glurgh,"

Sana's moans grew louder and more desperate, her arousal and submission evident in every sound that escaped her lips. The forceful thrusts of his cock made her drool uncontrollably, strands of spit dripping down her chin, soaking her face, and coating her hair.

"Mmmm, glurk, gulck.. Daddy, pleashh... guck-ahh... harder... *slurp*"

The old fucker's eyes burned with raw desire as he took in the sight of Sana's saliva-slicked face, her eyes glazed with lust. He wanted to push her limits, to see just how far she would go to please him. With a growl, he reached behind and tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back even further, causing her mouth to stretch wider.

"You want it rough, bitch? You want me to fuck your face until you're a drooling mess?"

Sana's body trembled with anticipation, her voice filled with need. "Yes, Daddy," she gasped, her voice laced with desire. "I want it rough. Make me your obedient cum dump."

Who was he to deny her request? Not when she was looking at him with those hazy lust filled eyes. Nay, impossible to deny.

His thrusts became even more forceful, his cock slamming into her mouth, jackhammering her head into the couch so hard her head bounced off the couch with each thrust.

Her eyes watered from the overwhelming sensations, her mascara running in dark rivulets down her cheeks, her lipstick long gone. Her once pristine face and hair smeared with her frothy saliva - and yet she asked for more.

"*Gulck* *gluck* Ohh... *glock* Y-yes, Daddy... *gawk* Fuck me... *gawk* harder!

In no time at all, the old geezer neared his climax, his thrusts grew quicker and more desperate. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, the need to release his pent-up desire growing stronger with each passing second. With one final deep thrust, he erupted, his cum shooting down Sana's throat.

"Ahh... fuck... cumming! fill that slutty mouth... Take it all bitch!"

Sana's muffled cries of pleasure mixed with the sound of his cum splattering against her throat. Her tongue worked tirelessly, collecting every drop she could as she eagerly swallowed his load.

Oh fuck, he's cumming! God it's too much she thought, feeling the hot jets of his seed shooting down her throat. The taste was intense, a mixture of saltiness and musk that coated her senses. "Gleugh," she gagged, feeling the sheer volume of his cum filling her mouth.

For a whole minute, his hot seed flowed continuously, filling her mouth and dripping up her inverted face. The thick ropes of cum covered her eyes, blocking her vision, while the rest streamed down her face, leaving trails of sticky warmth in its wake. Her hair became a canvas for the pearly liquid, as it clung to the strands, marking her with its unmistakable essence.

Coughing and gagging as the sheer volume overwhelmed her, Sana fought to swallow as much as she could. The old fuck came with such force that his cum still overflowed from her mouth, droplets cascading down her chin and onto her chest. She was a mess, a cum-drenched masterpiece, and yet, a smile played on her lips, a testament to her insatiable desire for pleasure.

As he finally finished, he pulled out of her mouth, and Sana gasped for air, her body still trembling with pleasure. She licked her lips, savoring the remnants of his cum, relishing in the mixture of their combined flavors. Her tongue swirled around, collecting every last trace of his cum.

But the old man wasn't done yet. With a firm grip on her hair, the old man guided her mouth towards his throbbing cock. He tilted her head back, exposing her open, willing mouth. A wicked glint danced in his eyes as he unleashed a torrent of warm piss, aiming it directly into her waiting mouth. The Japanese idol's lips parted, allowing the golden stream to enter, and she swallowed obediently, taking in his salty offering. The taste mingled with the remnants of his cum, creating a perverse cocktail that both excited and humiliated her.

Sana's eyes widened in shock and arousal as she gulped down his piss, feeling the degrading warmth slide down her throat. She obediently swallowed every drop, her body trembling with a mixture of humiliation and twisted pleasure. As the last drops of his piss trickled into her mouth, Sana swallowed it all, her body consumed by a mix of pleasure and humiliation.

She looked up at him, her face still glistening with his cum and her mouth tainted with his piss. A wicked smile played on her lips as she whispered, "Thank you, Daddy. I'm your filthy little cum dump."

The old fuck's eyes burn with a primal hunger as he watches Sana, still catching her breath from the mind-numbing skull fucking, her lips glistening with his essence. With a commanding presence, he grabs her by the waist and flips her over, positioning her on the couch in a prone position.

"Not done yet bitch. I took a pill so we'll be here all night long. Now, ass up." *Spank!*

Next Chapter: 1-2 Sana Arc; Free Use (TBC)

#sana smut #twice smut

407 notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 1 year

Text

scent of the pine. 1 (e.w.)

omg i finally wrote something who woulda thought gosh golly damn hey yall whos gay around here

wc;cw: 9.6k mmmm, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, so many time skips and theyre not even done yet omg, queer duh, all ocs r black coded<3, mentions of underage smoking/drinking(nics n weed obv), partying, making out, blood(it’s fake but still), all tlou kids appear including *gasp* cat, lots of ocs theyre gonna thrive in later chaps, depression, anxiety, disassociation, crack(it’s not all bad yall laugh a little!!), mentions of therapy, uh yeah just alot of sad and drama, smut in later chaps🤭🤭

You have always been surrounded by music.

When you were born, your mother quieted your screams with song, holding you close to her chest and gently whispering words of affection and love into your ears while your three-year-old sister jumped in celebration for new life.

When you were two, your mother gave you your first ever violin toy. Your sister had taken a large interest in the flute at age four, saying that the whistling noises sounded like birdies! and she wanted to give you the same exposure. It could have been sheer luck or her maternal instincts, but you quickly became attached to it. It was small and inexpensive and hardly sounded like a violin, but its bright lights and animated face near the scratched, poorly painted F-holes entranced you like no other. You couldn’t stop fiddling with the red, blue, and green buttons across the body, and every time it played the same robotic instrumental, you waved your arms around with the biggest smile on your face, like you could fly away from elation. Your sister would sometimes jump in and blow into her months old pink recorder while the instrumental played from your toy, imagining you were a part of a world-renowned orchestra: the musical harmony between the two of you brought your mother joy.

When you turned three, your mom and sister invited over some of her friends to help make cupcakes topped with musical notes for your special day. You sat on the couch with your favorite toy in hand as the instrumental played, jumping up and down on the cushion from pure excitement. Your sister’s friends kept you entertained while your mother prepared dinner, banging together pots and pans with wooden spoons and dancing, imagining them as drums. All four of them made you laugh with jokes, sang to you—one of them even played a song on one of her miniature, bright green guitars— and allowed you to experience some of the joys of life through symphonic expression.

When you were four, your mother noticed differences in your behavior. She noted that you and your sister were polar opposites: she was outspoken, unapologetic, and animated, while you were shy, polite, and timid. You hardly ever spoke unless spoken to, and though no one around you judged you for it, your mother often wondered what went on in your head. Despite your lack of communication, she never doubted the fire inside you: she saw it in your eyes whenever you watched footage of some of the most famous names in the classical world play their hearts out. When you were five, she signed you up for violin lessons.

When your big sister turned eight, she and her friends' released screams of excitement when she revealed her very first flute. She jumped in excitement, —mostly out of relief that she wouldn't have to berate you and your mom with the shrilling bleats of her old, pink recorder— shrieking about how she and her friends should start a band as soon as possible.“How the hell would a trumpet player fit in a rock band, you idiot?” You remembered your sister's best friend, Ellie, saying quietly so your mother wouldn’t hear from the kitchen, earning a playful shove from Jesse, your next-door neighbor. The dark-haired girl, Dina—who lived two houses down and had a large obsession with slapping her mother’s keyboard in the middle of the night—bursted into a fit of giggles while pointing at the young boy, making him blush.

You were always very observant of your sister's friends. You didn’t have many opportunities to make some of your own due to your incessant need to isolate, so you managed with what you had. They intrigued you: they were loud, lively, and exuberant. They never shied away from demonstrating their talents to you or your mom, especially the green-eyed, auburn-haired girl that almost always had her father’s black acoustic guitar strapped around her small frame on the three-block walk to your house. You remembered when she brought the guitar to school to play for the other students during lunch time, which landed her in after-school detention after she scolded one of her teachers for confiscating it, claiming that they were “limiting creative expression” and telling them to “screw themselves”.

When Ellie’s father, Joel, came to pick up your sister's friends from her party, Ellie jokingly pinched your side and threw you a quick see ya, squirt! while her and her two friends laughed and waved their way out of your front door. Your face ran hot as you watched them—her—leave. You didn’t get to reply before they ran down your porch in a heap of giggles. Watch the road, nuggets! I don’t have life insurance! You remembered Joel calling out to them as they sprinted across the street.

When you turned eight years old, your mother gave you your very first authentic violin and bow, the black case wrapped in glittery, floral paper. As usual, your sister and her friends grabbed and shook your shoulders out of excitement and anticipation of seeing you play since they never have, which you politely declined. You have always shied away from revealing your natural talent due to your scalding fear of embarrassment, resulting in only your mother and violin teacher knowing your abilities. You blushed as your sister, Jesse, and Dina pressed on, pleading that you play at least a couple of chords for them, causing Ellie to playfully come to your defense with a high-spirited squeal of she’s shy, you heathens! leave her be before I kick all your asses!

From that moment on, you always looked up to Ellie and her comfortability with herself. You never thought that you would meet someone more confident than your sister, but Ellie had her beat for miles. Regardless of where she was or what she did, she moved with a confidence that you only dreamt of having at that age. You wanted so desperately to mimic her, but that annoying voice of doubt never failed to remind you of your place. You made sure your light was dimmed, always.

When your sister was twelve, she began to take music very seriously. She went from two flute sessions a week to five, only to return home and play some more. She’d even performed in some of her school's recitals (she vomited across the stage during her first performance, but a victory is a victory). You watched your mother scold her about not completing her homework as she stood practicing in the living room while you silently ate your dinner, which led to her half-heartedly completing her assignments with a frown on her face. Over the next year and a half, your sister's scolding started to get more intense as her grades dropped. She was never much of a scholar, but she never let her grades slip under as much as they had then. Although her music teacher was sending her home with nothing but praises after every lesson, your mom often received letters in the mail from your sister's school saying that her performance was concerning. You’d heard your mother reprimand her countless times, saying you’re not going to survive high school like this! look at what you’re doing! while your sister claimed I know exactly what I’m doing, I want to be better! I’m following my dreams! why aren’t you proud of me? They had exchanged more harsh words until you heard your sister's door slam shut and your mothers silently resigned to her room in defeat.

You heard your sister’s cries through your shared wall for a while, until a gentle voice—Ellie’s, you recognized—consoled her and told her to calm down until her whimpers silenced. You knew she had a habit of secretly climbing up into your sister's window to hang out when your mom didn’t allow company over, but you didn’t know that she also always showed up when your sister needed another source of comfort. You slowly got up and left your room, silently walking down the hall until you reached your sister's door. You wanted to knock and see if she was okay, but before you could do so, the door opened and out walked Ellie, clad in her usual dark jeans and T-shirt, bracelets covering her wrists in mass, and dirty, scuffed chucks and socks in hand. She jumped slightly when she witnessed someone waiting behind the door, but instantly relaxed when she realized it was you.

“Hey, squirt. Why are you creepin’ behind the door like that?” She whispered with a small chuckle, gently shutting your sister’s door.

“Sorry.” You whispered back. “I heard her crying and I wanted to check on her. How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. She got a headache and fell asleep. I was just tucking her in, don’t worry.” She gently said, looking down at you. “I was just about to head out. Mind lockin’ the front door for me?”

“Why don’t you just leave out the window again?”

She snorted before she asked, “Dude, do you know how hard it is to climb down that rickety ass ladder you guys have outside? I almost broke my neck climbing down that thing in that storm last month.”

You quietly laughed alongside her while she bent down to put her socks back on. “What are you doing up anyway? It’s late and you have class tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You said, raising an accusatory brow at her. “Plus, I'm not tired, I’m bored.”

“I’m not tired”, she said mockingly. “What do you wanna do right now?”

“Don’t you have to be home soon?”

She waited a second before a mischievous smirk creeped on her face, “Yeah, but who cares. C’mon.”

She grabbed your wrist before quickly pulling you back into your room and gently shutting the door behind you. She took note of your room: pink and purple everything. Your walls were drenched in white and pink stripes with giant, iridescent, butterfly stickers, your bedspread had small specks of glitter sprinkled across it, which shimmered from your pink and green fairy lamp. You had a small tv propped up on your dresser, which was covered in fairy and Disney princess stickers, at the front of your room. She couldn’t help but snicker at the mountain of plushies that crowded your bed and nightstand. However, she halted when she noticed a small glass case that held two violins with their bows. She recognized the first one: a gift from your mother on your eighth birthday that had lost some shine, and another, much glossier and more tuned than the latter. It looked barely used. A small burst of joy exploded in her chest at the thought of you playing even though she had never seen it. She was happy to know that your love for music still lived.

“Your room’s cute, dude, it’s making my skin crawl like crazy, holy fuck,” she said with a soft laugh, leaning back against your door.

“Don’t make fun of me, you freakin' metalhead! It’s pretty in here and I like it,” you said begrudgingly, “Your room's scary!”

She let out a loud laugh before she acknowledged your glass-guarded instruments, “You still play?”

She nodded towards your protected instruments. You nodded from your bed and excitedly said, “Yeah, come sit! I never had a slumber party before!”

You spent the night quietly watching Peter Pan, gossiping about how in love you were with him and how you wished you could fly. Ellie silently watched you talk with curious, wide eyes as you went on tangent after tangent. You talked about movies you loved and boys you liked (which she playfully gagged at), and music you liked to listen to when you were sad, and she internalized all of it. She had never seen this side of you before, but she was so intrigued that she didn’t notice her own intensity in her own eyes. You just kept going and going before you abruptly stopped, the brightness in your eyes dimming slightly as you looked at her.

“Sorry for talking a lot,” you said, embarrassed. “Am I annoying?”

“‘Course not, squirt,” she said confused, but immediately. “Why the hell would you think that?”

You didn’t say anything, but her affirmation reignited the fire in your eyes as your rambles started up again. She let you talk until you sloppily fell asleep across your pillows and plushies, tv still quietly playing in the background. She gently got up from her position, careful not to wake you, pulled your blankets over your frame, and stealthily left through your sister’s window. She made her way back home, envisioning you playing your violin for her one day.

Ellie became the person that you turned to whenever you needed reassurance. She’d never failed at making you feel acknowledged and seen and heard.

Age thirteen was the first time you anticipated the summer. Middle school had been a very disconnected period for you, and though many of your peers had experienced a sense of helplessness through these trine times of adolescence, yours was slowly overtaking your ability to feel excitement for anything. You had become so detached to the world around you and that annoying, discouraging voice had only spurred on your distance. This dark state that you entered caused you to separate from everyone, including your own family. Your last day of eighth grade was the giddiest you had felt in a long time, and you couldn’t wait to get back to your place of solitude—home.

Your sister entered her element in high school. Much to your mother’s delight, she was able to find a balance between fulfilling her dreams as a musical prodigy while staying afloat academically.

You had been attending your violin lessons for eight years, and though you were blessed with your musical perception, —according to your teacher—you never played in front of an audience. Though your teacher was eager to put you in the children’s orchestra that he trained, your mother did not want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, so she'd always decline politely.

In July, Dina invited you and your sister over to a pool party. Her parents were going to be out for the weekend, and she thought that it’d be the perfect time to be reckless. When you and your sister walked in with your towels and snacks in hand, she greeted you both with an excited squeal, beckoning you both to the backyard. Ellie, Dina’s older sister, Talia, and a few older girls that you didn’t recognize, were already in the water, splashing and laughing.

“Look who just arrived, cunts! My babies, my angels, the lights of my life— “

“Ay, shut the fuck up!” the blonde-haired girl yelled with a grin, causing Dina to flip her off and the others to laugh.

You modestly held your folded towel in your hand, smiling at their interaction. Your sister had already discarded her towel, shorts, and flip flops on a random beach chair before she cannonballed into the pool, causing everyone to swear and splash her. Dina then jumped in right behind her with a shout. They all blended so well, and you curled into yourself. Maybe you should go—

“Get over here, squirt! It’s hot as fuck out here,” Ellie shouted out with a smile, before a girl in a black bikini playfully jumped on her back, planting a light kiss on her shoulder. Something unfamiliar panged in your chest, but you nodded and slipped off your flip flops before making your way over to the pool stairs, slowly submerging yourself into the water.

“You’re still calling her squirt like she’s four, cut it out already,” Dina called out with a snort before she addressed you.

“I’m not sure if your sister ever mentioned anything about these losers but they’re some friends from school, that’s Cat, Abby, and Riley,” she said and pointed them out, “and they’re really fucking annoying—

“Shut the hell up before I drown you,” said Abby with a straight face.

“Yeah, keep talking to me like that— “

“ANYWAYS,” Ellie interrupted, “We missed you kid, where ya been?”

“Just at home, nothing crazy. I’m glad to finally be out, though.” I think I’m depressed, please don’t notice.

“She’s lying, I nearly had to drag her ass outta bed by her feet to detangle her hair this morning,” your sister corrected with an over dramatic eye roll.

“I’m just tired,” you said meekly. “School was hard these past two weeks.”

“I bet it was! Literally no one ever talks about how crazy middle school is! I damn near backflipped off the stage at our promotion,” Riley commented with a head shake, making Abby aggressively nod her head in agreement.

As the side conversations continued, your attention was overtaken by Ellie, who had moved to the opposite side of the pool to whisper something into the short-haired girl’s—Cat, who hasn’t acknowledged you yet—ear, which made her giggle and half-heartedly push Ellie away. The green-eyed girl didn’t budge, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist, pulling her closer and, much to your surprise, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Cat had a tight grip on Ellie’s olive-green rash guard as she held her and shared soft whispers that you wished you heard. Was that her girlfriend? you thought. You knew Ellie liked girls due to her almost two-year long crush on Riley, which she confided in you and your sister about when she was fourteen. She had wildly knocked on your sister’s window in the middle of the night with a tear-stained face, frantically pacing and claiming that something was wrong with her.

Why the fuck do I want to kiss her and hold her hand whenever I see her?

This is bad, this is really really bad, guys, something’s wrong!

What do I do, how do I stop this!

You had never seen her so defeated, and her wet cheeks and scared eyes made your chest hurt with a sharp stab. Your sister had pulled her into a tight hug and quietly hummed a tune in her ear to soothe her sobs, while you gently rubbed her back and told her that she was going to be okay. She ended up staying the night, dozing off while holding one of your sister’s stuffed animals close to her chest while the two of you held her from both sides. You and your sister hadn’t slept in the same bed since she was six.

As the party slowly died down and Talia, who snuck away to her room much earlier, beckoned everyone inside with a get outta the pool you freaks! you’re gonna prune! from the back door, you all resigned inside to rinse off and change clothes before heading to the living room to watch a scary movie. You silently smacked on your sour gummy worms on the lone lounge chair as you watched Abby, Riley, and your sister cower behind pillows to block the screen while Dina snored loudly, while Cat and Ellie snuggled on a lounge chair. She had her chin propped up on the dark-haired girl’s head to see the screen while she rubbed her back.

As the film progressed, you saw the couple making small movements out of the corner of your eye. Cat began to subtly plant soft kisses on her cheek, neck, and shoulder, causing the auburn-haired girl to smirk, moving her head to the side to give her more access. You saw Ellie pull her girlfriend’s shirt up slightly, rubbing the exposed skin on her hip. You seemed to be the only one who noticed as the girls on the other couch squealed at another jump scare. Ellie and her girlfriend shared a more intense kiss, and you saw a glistening tongue poke out. That made you avert your gaze and you blushed, embarrassed that you were catching such an intimate moment. You quickly got up with a quick excuse of I gotta pee, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Your face was boiling, and your heart pounded in your chest as you soaked your hands with icy water before wiping them down your face, that voice in the back of your head asking what the fuck your problem was.

You slowly looked up at your reflection in the mirror to center yourself, but your vision started to blur, and hands began to shake. You tried to take deep breaths; you tried you tried you tried but the air left your lungs as quickly as it entered.

Breathe, breathe breathebreathebreathe—

You jumped at the soft knock on the bathroom door, and you ripped it open without hesitation, revealing a concerned Ellie, Dina, and sibling, reaching out and asking if you were okay. How long were you there? You couldn’t speak or breathe or see so you swiftly shook your head no nonono—

Ellie and your sister guided you back to the living room and onto the couch. Ellie squatted down to your eye level, grabbing your face in her warm hands while your sister rubbed your back and Dina held your hand. The other girls’ expressions had been pulled down in concern as they watched your smaller frame tremble.

“Hey squirt, can you do me a favor? Can you breathe with me?”

“Cmon, deep breath in and hold it with me, follow me okay?” Ellie instructed. Your mimicked breaths were choked and broken, but she nodded her head at you in encouragement anyway, gently whispering a that’s it every time you shakily exhaled.

All the girls remained silent but attentive, allowing Ellie to control the situation. Riley had even gone to the kitchen to snag you a glass of water that she set on the coffee table. You tried to match Ellie’s breaths with yours, holding, in and out, holding, in and out, and you eventually calmed down. There was silence for a few minutes before Dina spoke.

“How do you feel, hun? You okay to talk now?” she asked softly while gently caressing your hand. You didn’t know how to answer, so you meekly nodded your head yes.

“Tell us what’s been going on with you. You’ve been so… MIA lately,” your friend noted, cringing slightly at her choice of words.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what… what’s happening to me—

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re gonna handle it, just try to relax for now. We’re leaving in a little, anyway,” your sister comforted. You felt Ellie’s calloused fingers gently rub your knee soothingly. You just wanted to lay down.

After some more hugs and forehead smooches from Dina, you and your sister packed up your things and headed home. You weren’t aware, but Ellie met your sister’s eyes with an intense gaze, quietly instructing her before you both left, (“You need to watch her tonight, do you understand? You watch her until tomorrow and you tell your mom what happened the second you get a chance”) which she immediately agreed to.

Your sister had held your hand tightly as you both made your way to your front porch. Your sister pulled out her semiquaver keychain, unlocking the door and quietly trudged inside. Your home was dark, meaning that your mother had already been in bed. Your sister hadn’t released the tight grip of your hand the entire trek upstairs. She opened her bedroom door, silently pulling you inside and made her way over to her dresser. She gave you a giant T-shirt to change into as she put her bonnet on. You both brushed your teeth and washed your face before heading over to her bed. You laid down facing each other, tucked under the blankets. You both looked at each other in silence, but she broke it.

“I want you to tell me why that happened, no bullshit.”

You didn’t reply. You were tired.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” She pressed on. You noted the desperation in her eyes. Your heart was hurting.

Silence.

Her eyes shut in defeat before she turned her back to you. Your eyes burned into the worn shirt she wore. Just say it, the voice in your head screamed at you, tell her how worthless you are!

Silence.

And then an exhale.

“I think I need to talk to someone.”

You did not expect the rest of your summer to be filled with therapy sessions and journal entries. When your sister told your mother about the events of that night, much to your dismay, she immediately made some phone calls and scheduled sessions twice a week. You had to pause your violin sessions for a few weeks, and you missed it, but you knew this was more important. Your mother expressed her remorse for not paying closer attention to your behavior. Your distance, your lack of energy, your reluctance to speak, your silence—God, your silence. You were screaming without a word. She felt that she’d failed you, and she wanted to do as much as she could to reignite that light in your eyes.

You hadn’t looked forward to these meetings in the beginning, but you soon grew to like your therapist. Even though your feelings were confusing and unfamiliar to you, she was in no rush to get answers out of you. She allowed you to speak at your own pace and listened to every minor detail. She concluded that your self-doubt has bubbled over into anxiety: she recommended you journaling. She wanted you to document one thing that you loved about yourself everyday (“It can be anything: appearance, personality, talents. Whatever you wish. Just make sure you mean it”).

And so, you did.

The next month flew by, the last bits of summer slowly easing into fall, and you were going to start your first year of high school. Your mother and sister had noticed a slight change in your behavior during your break: you started eating dinner with them instead of in your room, asked how their day went, what their week looked like. Your sister would ramble about how stressed she was for her last year but also how excited she was to perform with the school’s orchestra at the December recital and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you rambled back. Your mother had listened from the kitchen as you two gossiped, argued, and even planned to play music together in the future. Her heart swelled. You also started hanging out with Dina, Ellie, Jesse, and your sister a lot more: one night, you followed them back to Joel and Ellie’s garage to watch them freestyle on some of his used instruments. Jesse, who babbled to you about his new love for drumming, demonstrated some techniques he had adapted from Joel on his old drum set while your sister nodded her head along to the beats he made. Dina was already improvising on their brand new sixty-one key keyboard, headphones on to tune out the noise the four of you were making. Ellie, who had stepped away to answer her girlfriend’s call, had her father’s bright green, electric bullet mustang strapped around her chest. She noticed you staring and sent you a thumbs up, you giving one back. She sent you a wink and a smile before turning away to continue her conversation. Your heartbeat increased.

Ellie had become much more attentive after that night at the party. She had always been protective of you, but her desire to talk to you increased tenfold. She would text you fried memes in the middle of the night or leave voice memos about how her dad was helping her customize his old electric guitar. She chattered about wanting to record the entire process for all of you to see.

i feel like if i help my dad with anything he’ll wring my neck :| he’s so particular abt instruments it’s annoying

that sucks :( but at least he cares!! he’s just passionate and wants u to play the best.

he gave it to ME tho. the guitar is mine now!! i should have some input on how it looks be on my side!!! >:/

i am!! just be patient with him. ur gonna be shredding w it soon enough :D

And she also never failed to check in on you for more serious matters, either. She never pressed for information, not wanting to overstep, but she always ensured that you had a safe space to discuss anything you wanted with her. After some of your meetings, you would already have a text from her asking how your session went and what you learned. You would send her voice memos about some of your therapist’s pointers about communication and how you were trying to improve that skill for your family, especially your mom. She also provided some advice about what helped her regain her footing in conversation, joking that no one could ever get me to shut the hell up at the end of the day! that’s for damn sure.

Ellie wasn’t aware, but you started writing about her in your journal, as well. Small, little excerpts of what you liked about her and how she made you feel. How caring she was. How she made your heart beat fast whenever she was around. How strong she felt when she pulled you in for a tight hug while whispering about how she missed you—

Oh.

You were helpless… and gay.

It was late into November. You were fourteen and elated.

Not only had you slowly eased back into music, but you had friends. That you made on your own. You knew that your sister and her friends didn’t want to drag you along everywhere they went, both on and off campus, so you began to explore other paths by yourself. Swiftly after the school year started, you joined the campus orchestra, and while you were terrified, you were excited. Impassioned. Hopeful.

There were all types of groups that passed through the practice room. Students of all grades hung out, ate, and studied there: you were shocked at the number of students that lounged in the designated nerd hotspot during their free time. This is nothing like the movies, you had thought. You noted that the room was not as busy on Thursdays during lunch, and you thought it would be a good time to tune out the outside world and throw yourself into music again. One Thursday, you walked in on a group of juniors whispering and giggling about something you couldn’t hear. You looked around and noticed one of the girls from your biology class—Arya, you remembered—pushed off into a corner by herself, on her knees and hurriedly shoving her things into her backpack. She looked upset.

She looked sad.

The juniors had been talking about her.

You had your violin case and lunch in hand as you slowly made your way past the juniors and in front of her. You noticed her tear-stained cheeks shining under the white light of the room as you got closer. You softly greeted her, making her jump and eyes harden.

“Hey, Arya, you alright?” You whispered, squatting down to her level.

“What do you think,” She whispered back harshly, continuing to shove her books into her pack. “Does it look like I’m alright? If you’re here to laugh you can honestly fuck off.”

You’d flinched at her tone but pressed on. “I didn’t walk all the way here to laugh at you. Let's go somewhere else, we can eat together, if you want!”

You could tell she had questioned your enthusiasm. She looked at you skeptically before looking behind you, at the juniors, and then back at you. You didn’t budge. She slowly rose to her feet, swung her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed her instrument case from the floor—hm, clarinet— and softly nodded. You both leaving caused the juniors to laugh harder.

You didn’t care.

You and Arya have done everything together since that day. She was eager to introduce you to her two friends, Starr and Kris, who you clicked with immediately. The second they sat you down, they raged about how much they hated the writers of Vampire Diaries due to how they treated Kat Graham, how they joked about hating talented people like you and Arya, what they wanted their future weddings to look like (Kris and her Pinterest boards), and you laughed.

You were calm.

You were happy.

Your first year of high school flew by.

Your sister earned her flute solo at the December recital, earning a standing ovation from the audience of students and parents. You and your mother screamed the loudest for her.

At Dina’s eighteenth birthday party, you, Ellie, and your sister walked in on her and Jesse tonguing each other down in the kitchen. Ellie let out a hardy laugh of are you fuckers serious! right in front of my salad? while your sister fell to the floor in hysterics. You had shielded your eyes.

April came around and so did prom season. Your sister said that she had been anticipating the event since seventh grade and you, your mom, and Dina were dragged along to her fitting. She had texted Ellie to come, but she swiftly declined, claiming that she couldn’t hide my fat dick in a dress! love you tho! buy me an elf bar? :3

You missed her so much.

On the evening of prom, your sister, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie all pitched in to rent a limo. Your sister, gorgeous as always, was draped in a strapless, floral gown that cinched her waist and bloomed at her hips and her twists were pinned up to show her neckline and back. Dina wore a flowy, black dress with a leg slit. Ellie and Jesse were dressed to a T in classic black suits, him in loafers and her in beat up Vans with her usual messy, low bun.

Your parents had all met at Joel’s house for pictures and semi-alcoholic drinks. You were touching up your sister’s makeup at Ellie’s desk in her room when you felt too familiar hands pinch your sides with a soft, hey squirt. You jumped, almost mussing up your sister’s liner, causing her to kick the hell out of Ellie’s calf. She feigned an ache before hitting her mint elf bar, blowing it away from both of your faces.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now bitch, I mean it, this is serious business,” your sister had said to her.

“Oh shut the hell up, it’s three hours of musty people dancing, it’s not that serious,” Ellie said before turning to you, “Check your sister, dude.”

“El, please shut up,” you said to her. “Just hold still, I'm almost done, god you’re both annoying!”

You worked as quickly as you could, slightly smudging the liner on her waterline until you were satisfied, “…aaaand done. Tell me how it looks right quick.”

She inspected her appearance, pressing on her baby hairs before turning and giving you a fat smooch, “Thank you baby! It’s perfect, now move, I gotta piss before we go.”

Your sister jumped up from Ellie’s chair, holding her dress up while flipping her off and lightly sprinting down the hall to the bathroom, which left you both giggling.

A bored Ellie had made her way over to her bed while you worked, laid out across it, silently puffing on her nic before saying, “I don’t know how you deal with her sometimes.”

“Me neither, honestly,” you replied, smiling. “Where’s Cat?”

“Somewhere being annoying. We had an argument last night.”

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

She sat up before shrugging, beckoning you to sit next to her in the bed, “You’re good. She felt a way about my promposal. She went off about me not putting that much effort into the sign I made and waiting until the last minute to ask. It was petty.”

You snorted with a head shake as you watched her breathe menthol out her nose.

“Don’t laugh at my shortcomings! Wait ‘til you get a boyfriend, he’s gonna forget about prom too! It’s dumb.”

You froze. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? You laughed sheepishly with another shake of your head. She noticed your reaction before you could even reply. She smirked in acknowledgement.

“… or partner. Your partner might forget.” She quietly corrected with a sly grin.

“If you say anything I’ll strangle you and burn your corpse.”

“Oh my fucking god, did you forget that I lived in the closet for almost five years straight?! You’re fine.”

She took another puff before asking, “Anybody steal your heart yet?”

“Please be serious, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. How do you even talk to girls without dying?” You said with a pout.

She almost fell over as she giggled. “You talk to girls like you talk to everyone else, you’re gonna charm them regardless. Trust me.”

You felt your face heat up at the subtle compliment, but you gave her an eye roll and light shove before your sister came trucking down the hallway with her heels in hand. She shrieked out a limo’s here! before flying down the stairs. Ellie took one more long puff of her pale green vape before tucking it into her jacket pocket, wrapping her arms around your smaller frame as she guided you downstairs.

She smelled like mint menthol and pine trees. You loved how she smelled.

Summer came, and you’d fully accepted your big, fat crush on Ellie.

Your journal had been riddled with doodles of her name surrounded by hearts and sparkles, written words of affection through poetry, more hearts and sparkles. You couldn’t stop thinking about her: everything that she said, everything she did, did something to you. But you didn’t know that the fluttering in your chest whenever she was around would be short lived.

Your sister had spent her eighteenth birthday at Cat’s family lake house. As much as you wanted to be a fly on the wall and watch your sister go crazy, you had to settle with viewing her private story from your warm bed on Friday night. It was a mess: she had posted multiple snaps of Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and herself taking shot after shot, chug after chug, until she posted a photo of Jesse’s head hanging out of a second story window with Dina’s hand on his back and Ellie cheesing wide with her two thumbs up, nic in hand. Her next snap, however, made your smile drop from your face.

The footage was a close—too close—up shot of Ellie and Cat making out against the wall. Ellie had her girlfriend trapped between her and the wood, both hands cradling her face as she dominated the kiss. She was grinding her hips up to meet the dark-haired girl’s, pressing her body further into the wall. Ellie then dropped her hands to her girlfriend’s hips, grabbing her short dress in her larger hands to pull her even closer. You barely noticed due to the shakiness of the camera, but you saw the pink glisten of your good friend's tongue swiping up into her girl's mouth before the snap ended.

You'd nearly dropped your phone on your face.

The clip had been hilarious out of context: the loud booming of clap clap clap that ass bitch, shake that cameltoe, lemme see them pussy lips! with your sister screaming and shaking like crazy in the background, Jesse behind the couple hurling his guts out of a window, and his concerned girlfriend pouting with a turquoise bong and lighter in her hand. Anyone would’ve found it comedic gold, but you?

Your stomach had twisted uncomfortably, not only from jealousy, but from a burning, swirling heat.

You dropped your phone on your bed and sat up as angry tears blurred your vision. You knew her and her girlfriend had been on and off for a while now, so why did it affect you so deeply to see them together? How stupid could you be? you thought she wanted you after all this time? a voice that you hadn’t heard in a while said to you. You’d recognized that tremor in your hands and pick-up of your heart, and you knew that you couldn’t be alone tonight. You sent a quick SOS text to your friends in the group chat, desperately seeking comfort. Arya, ever the angel, was the first to respond with a quick and simple omw rn, stealing her brother’s car keys to pick up Kris and Starr and flew straight to your house.

The girls held you while you sobbed, gently shushing you and encouraging you to take deep breaths.

Breathe with me, squirt, there ya go.

You wished that voice didn’t sound so much like hers.

Your sister and her friends had returned home Sunday night, hungover and exhausted like hell. You hadn’t moved from your bed all weekend, and you hadn’t wanted to get up to help her drag her bags in. You immediately recognized the laughter that came from downstairs, and your heart shook painfully in your chest. Their voices were muffled due to your door being shut, but you heard a cheerful I’ll go get her leave your sister’s mouth before the sound of her rushed footsteps flooded the quiet hallway.

You quickly flipped over so your back faced the door, your blanket thrown over your body as you pretended to sleep.

You heard your door open, some shuffling, before it was gently shut again. You listened to your sister shuffle back downstairs and you heard a faint she’s slumped…. tomorrow or something…

Their chatter and laughter continued into the night while you moped in your room. Your phone had pinged around eleven, a pop-up of sleep well, squirt:3 on your home screen.

You turned your phone off and threw it on your nightstand, shutting your eyes, praying for sleep to come.

You dreamt of green and pine trees.

You had begun your sophomore year, and your friends had been a good distraction from the inner turmoil of your heart. During the last bits of your vacation, Ellie had been texting you non-stop, eager to play you the completed version of a song she’d been working on for the past five months. She’d even finished customizing her father’s passed down electric guitar: you only knew because you frequently checked her Instagram, despite the ache you felt in your chest when you saw the posts of her and her girlfriend doing cute couple shit. Her guitar had been airbrushed raven black with silver strings, and a detailed white and green skull that she painted on the body. She’d sent you and your sister the entire video of her creation as promised, but you'd only replied with a dry thumbs up emoji. Her suspicions were correct: something serious was going on with you.

After your sister’s birthday weekend in July, Ellie texted you multiple times to come help her and Dina mix a song and watch movies, but you politely declined saying that you were busy and maybe another time :)! It technically wasn’t a lie: your sister came to your defense when she asked where you were, saying that your trigonometry grade had dropped significantly after your first test, and you were desperate to get it up before your mother noticed. She had accepted that excuse for the first two weeks, but after your sixth reply of busy :( rain check? she got agitated.

She started pressing your sister about your attitude after the first month without your knowledge, but she swiftly got brushed off with a dude, she's studying at her friend's house, can you relax and pack this bowl for me please?

Ellie laid in her bed after her hotbox with her friends, confused as to why you were acting so stiff with her so suddenly. Whenever she came over to your house, you locked yourself in your room and didn’t come out to greet her for whatever reason. She had been this close to marching to your house and kicking your bedroom door down herself before she received a notification that you had updated your private story. She clicked it, and played a video of one of your friends with a flyswatter in hand yelling about how she was a world-renowned mosquito killer until the bug started flying around the unfamiliar room. Multiple shrieks, including yours, were heard before the video abruptly ended.

Ellie swiped up on your story with a quick LOOOOOOL, but she wasn’t laughing. I guess she really was busy doing something, she thought. She felt bad for assuming that you had been purposefully avoiding her, but she was not used to you being unavailable. She was a clingy high, sue her.

She clicked her phone off and hoped she would see you soon.

Ellie’s eighteenth birthday had been two weeks away.

Her birthday never felt like her own; Her dad had always made a big deal about the celebration. He spent hours blowing up balloons for her eleventh, baking cupcakes(even though he nearly burned their entire house down) for her fourteenth, and bragged to the cashier at the vinyl shop about how much of an old soul his baby girl was(“Oh this isn’t for me, my daughter is obsessed with the oldies, I really rubbed off on her, she’s turning sixteen tomorrow and I wanna surprise her!”). She’d never complained, though. She’d never say, but she loved seeing him happy more than anything in the world.

However, her attitude towards her eighteenth birthday had been different. She was eager to celebrate her transition into adulthood with the people she loved the most. She knew that she wanted a slasher themed party with blood and gore everywhere. Her inner horror movie fan had been gasping for water for years, and she was finally going to quench her thirst.

Call her Jason.

You and your sister were arguing about who would dress up as Scream.

Ellie had given your sister an invitation to her big eighteenth, and although you were reluctant about going, your guilt had slowly been gnawing at you. The last message that Ellie sent you was almost three weeks ago: a simple miss u, which you left unread. You thought it was strange how no one acknowledged the tension between the two of you, but you hardly understood it yourself, and you began to feel remorseful.

You owed her an apology, and you planned to do it tonight.

“You’re not dressing up as Scream, bitch, I’m sorry! I got you this Jack the Ripper cape, try it on.” she said as she threw the cape and top hat on your bed.

“Jack the Ripper was racist, fact— “

“Most serial killers are! It’s for aesthetic purposes only! There’s no such thing as a moral compass on Halloween.”

You stared at her with a blank expression, before she resigned, retrieving the fit, “Ugh, fine, go as one of the most iconic slashers in film history, see if I give a damn.”

“Waaaaaa, you mad.” You said with a laugh.

She yelled back a DUH! as she marched down the hall and into the bathroom to change. Your mom wasn’t supportive of the slasher costume party, but she stood no chance against your sister’s persuasive pout and googly eyes.

An hour later, you both were dressed with your gifts in hand as your mother locked the door behind you. You couldn’t begin to imagine the reaction of your neighbors if they peeped out of their windows since Halloween wasn’t for another two weeks. They better not call the fucking cops, that's all I know! your sister shouted out into the quiet neighborhood before you shushed her.

Despite the anxiety in the pit of your stomach, you were eager to see Ellie. You and your sister had pitched in to get custom-made, embroidered guitar pics as her gift: you were hoping that she liked them.

It wasn’t long before you made it onto the Miller residence. Your sister scaled the stairs of their front porch like it was a mountain before banging on the door. It shot open seconds later and revealed Dina, dressed as Freddy Krueger, and Jesse as… Saw.

That mask always made an uncomfortable shiver go down your spine.

They both pulled you and your sister into tight hugs before pulling you further inside to shut the door. The entire downstairs area was lit with red LED lights with faux cobwebs spread across the kitchen and living room walls. You and your sister almost slipped on the fake blood that was splattered all over the wooden floor. There was a giant bowl of tooth-rotting chocolate and a bag of sour gummies on the counter, right next to the multitude of Jason figurines. There was also eerie music playing from Ellie’s speaker near the TV.

You couldn’t believe you had a crush on this loser.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SO FUCKING EXCITED THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN HOLY SHIT— “

Your sister, then Dina, had already been trucking back up the stairs, as they released excited squeals, which only ignited more excited squeals from other voices you barely recognized.

Jesse threw his arms around you as he pulled you inside.

“Bro, where the fuck have you been, I haven’t seen you in ages!” He said, voice muffled under his mask and over the bass from the speakers.

“I know, I’m sorry, school is crazy right now, but I’m here now,” you said with a smile and just as muffled, walking over to the counter to rip open the sour gummy bag. “Are we supposed to be upstairs or something?”

“Nah, Cat and Riley, you remember Riley, are finishing up their costumes. They really went all out with the decor though, I was impressed.”

Your smile fell at the mention of her girlfriend, and you immediately knew that you weren’t going to have fun. You lifted your mask up to shove candied worms into your mouth in attempts to center yourself.

After ten minutes of ravishing the tart candies on the kitchen barstool, you heard quick, heavy footsteps descend the stairs.

You turned to see Ellie, Abby, Dina, Riley, Cat, and your sister descend the stairs, jumping excitedly at your get-up, laughing at your mask. You barely had the chance to stand from your seat and greet everyone before Ellie pushed past them to pull you into a rib-cracking hug. You could hardly move to return the gesture.

“I missed you so much, squirt, holy shit,” she whispered into your ear. You would’ve dropped to your knees if it wasn’t for her grip. “Where have you been, are you doing okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face while both your masks were atop your heads, and you got a good look at her freckled appearance. Her hair was styled in a half bun with multicolored bobby pins holding her bangs back. She was wearing light makeup: her nose and cheeks were gently highlighted, her under eyes had a dark red tinted liner that was smudged with purpose, and she shaved a slit into her eyebrow. She had on a black T-shirt that had been cut and ripped in some parts, black, ripped jeans, and an oversized, dark olive-green flannel. The sleeves were rolled up and you damn near fainted at the subtle lines of an unfinished tattoo peeking out. She also had a plastic version of Jason’s large, bloody machete secured through the belt loop of her jeans.

Holy shit.

Your face was burning hot from how close her face was to yours. “Hi El, I’m fine, happy birthday,” you said quietly, half chewing the worms in your mouth.

You turned to grab her small, wrapped gift box off the counter, softly shoving it into her chest in attempts to distract her from pressing about your whereabouts, and though you noticed her eyebrows pull down in concern, she grabbed the box from your hands before replying a gentle thank you.

Your sister slapped Ellie on the back, breaking up the moment, begging to change the music genre before dragging her to the living room to unlock her phone.

I can’t shake ass to this shit, bitch! Change it now!

I NEED A ONE DANCE, GOT A HENNESSY IN MY HAND—

It was almost eleven. Everyone had migrated to the living room after Ellie finally turned off her summoning demons :0 playlist and allowed your sister to shuffle Spotify’s Top 40 from 2016. After Riley skipped every non-Rihanna song for the first thirty minutes, Abby snatched the phone from her hands and put Drake on. They both were on top of the couch, screaming into wooden spoons like they were microphones while Jesse, Dina, and your sister jokingly popped their backs.

You had fallen back onto a lounge chair to catch your breath from the rigorous jumping you were doing, watching them all sing their lungs out.

You had the opportunity to briefly speak to Abby, who dressed up as a bloody Esther, during Riley’s incessant song-skipping since you never had the chance to genuinely talk to her. She excitedly told you about how she and Riley had been best friends since fifth grade and they both met Ellie in middle school. She cringed when she reminisced on the memory of Ellie giving Riley a glitter-riddled macaroni card for Valentine’s Day in seventh grade. Abby and Riley both graduated a year before your sister and friends did and were sophomores at Boston University, her pursuing her hockey career and Riley studying neuroscience.

The shrilling screams of Dina, Abby, and your sister when Single Ladies blasted through the speakers made you jump in your seat before you got up and made your way into the kitchen for water (and more gummies). Babe you’re not single! you heard Jesse yell to Dina.

You stood at the counter chomping on the sweets, contemplating when would be the best time to speak to Ellie one-on-one. You'd seen her escape onto the back patio, probably to smoke, you thought. You had never been confrontational, and you didn’t want to say something you regretted like hi ellie i’ve been in love with you for years i’m so sorry for ignoring you and iloveyouiloveyou—

Yeah, you’d probably leave with a black eye from her girlfriend if you did that. Just say you're sorry, don’t be selfish, don’t ruin her birthday, don’t ruin her relationship, you thought. now or never.

After your mental pep talk, you took a sip from your glass and shoved a handful of the candies in your mouth as a center. You made your way to the back door and onto the patio. Hot ass mask, you thought before ripping it off your head and tossing it onto the glass patio table.

What you weren’t expecting to see was Cat and Ellie already outside having a conversation, and from where you were standing, it looked intense.

“Why the fuck are you mad about me hugging her when I haven’t seen her in ages?”

And you froze.

“Ellie, if you can’t see that she has the biggest crush on you then you're actually delusional,” Cat spat back at her. “And that wasn’t just a regular hug either! You should’ve seen her face when you grabbed her, it looked like she was about to drop to her knees and propose!”

They couldn’t see you from where you stood and it would’ve been in your best interest to flee before you passed out from embarrassment and loathing, but your feet had been glued to the ground and you were forced to listen to their harsh exchange.

“First off, watch your mouth, I’m not fucking delusional,” the birthday girl heatedly said back. “And no she didn’t! And even if she did it doesn’t fucking matter. She's a fucking kid!”

And you’d felt your heart plummet to your feet.

The remainder of the candies in your mouth felt like sandpaper and you couldn’t swallow. You felt the all too familiar tremors of your hands start to pick up.

“Listen,” you heard her tone soften. “I’m in love with you, okay? I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t think about being with anyone else.”

The sharp gasp you sucked in made both heads turn towards you in shock, and your teary eyes locked with wide, green ones.

You wanted to fall through the floor and die.

Cat scoffed and shook her head as if to say see what I mean before she puffed on her—Ellie’s—vape.

Ellie’s call of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your feet moving before your brain could tell them to, clumsily shuffling your way back into your heartbreaker’s home, sliding the door shut with a loud slam.

Everyone who’d been dancing jumped at the sound, turning to take in your ruffled state as their energetic smiles slowly dropped in concern.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Dina said gently over the still loud music.

Your sister called your name out with worry in her voice. You looked into her eyes with a head shake before you choked out a reply.

“Can we… I wanna leave, please, now.”

a/n: heyyyy lol so yeah thats that ig. if anyone even reads or sees this fic plss be nice to me ive never written anything like this b4. idk how long this will be but its def gonna be long,,, lots of ground 2 cover w this universe this game is everything 2 me and so is ellie so ye bye lolz

read pt 2 here :D

935 notes · View notes

kunikuma · 10 months

Text

doll

oh, what a joy it is to be loved by you.

relationship | wanderer x gn!reader

synopsis | wanderer has a late night hobby he kept under the wraps. unfortunately and fortunately, you found out about it. content | fluff cw | none? wanderer kinda panicking. like rambling. a/n | take this appetizer while i focus on bigger fics. also, make sure you spend ur life with people who dont smother your hobbies! assuming it’s not legit bad. was real proud of this one back in march ahaha. it got polished tho. note the actual capitalization.

masterlist

A miniature version of the wandering ascetic finds a somewhat warm home in the sleeve of the wanderer’s clothes. Its sky-hued tear was permanently stitched onto its soft face as if alluding to the history of its owner.

However, the crystalline droplet on the soft fabric wasn’t entirely accurate these days, as the internal rage and agony that ate away at the wanderer’s soul were tamed. Not gone, not quelled, but the flames licking at the cavity in his chest didn’t burn as much as they did in the past.

Next to the doll with the tear sat another one. One with a familiar shade of hair and eyes to someone he would begrudgingly admit he held dear. This doll was very clearly well made; the immaculate, hand-sewn seams and hair looked crafted with deep care, as if many iterations were made prior before this version found its home next to the other doll next to it.

How many prototypes did the wanderer make himself before he settled on the current iteration?

A few.

But unlike another puppet maker in a land far away from his current abode, he kept the original doll and only polished it further.

Never did he toss it away to start anew.

The wandering ascetic usually had the real, warm person near him. But during the times he didn’t, he found peace and minor company when he felt the two dolls brush against his arm while he walked alone during his travels. The added weight in his sleeve reduced the heaviness in his chest. Even while he soared through the sky over the arid deserts of Sumeru, the additional mass in his clothes only made him feel weightless.

Currently, on the topic of dolls, this special doll was missing. And the reformed wanderer was frantic.

“Where could it possibly be?” He mutters, flipping off all the cushions on the couches. The room was in disarray; pillows were flung to the floor, and knitted blankets were unfolded and messily strewn onto the chairs and floors. The man clicks his tongue in irritation, tapping his foot on the ground with impatience as his eyes dart around the room over and over, hoping to see a sign of his lost treasure. His breathing was quietly and unknowingly erratic, not bothering to keep it at a rhythmic, human pace.

The wanderer wasn’t that upset that it was lost; he reasoned he could always make a new one, a better one that represented his lover even better than the current prototype. But a sudden guilt weighed on his chest as his eyes narrowed slightly. A shred of guilt when he thinks about the pain the doll might feel when it realizes it was discarded-

‘It is not alive,’ he grumbles and pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Focus; where did you last see it?” Wanderer starts to retrace his steps, speaking aloud to no one in particular, mulling over his steps from the previous evening. Two nights ago, before leaving their shared home to aid Buer with a late-night task, he was resewing one of the buttons for your eyes. It had gotten a little loose from rubbing against him during his travels, but he had also picked up a better set that captured your shiny eyes.

The next time he remembered it was on Treasures Street. When on his way back home, he noticed a small blue gem that he felt would be a nice addition to a tiny doll's necklace. That night, the flustered man found himself using a bracelet clasp and attaching the gem to the metal. In the faintly candlelit bedroom with his pink tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, he wrapped it around the neck of the doll and secured it in place.

Sewed the clasp at the base of the doll’s neck to keep it in place, too.

But… he checked the whole house already and found nothing. Wanderer was growing agitated as he considered where to look next.

He starts for the door, ready to comb through Treasures Street; if the doll wasn’t at home, then... Treasures might be a good place to start; he always walked through there. He only sighed as he got up, brainstorming better ways to secure the dolls in his sleeves.

Perhaps two dolls were too heavy for one sleeve? But he did not want to split the pair, even if it balanced his body better when he walked.

The idea of someone finding you- err, the doll version of you, and mistreating his carefully crafted creation made him curl his fists. The idea of a child dropping you and muddying your face- ‘Doll. The doll’s face,’ he mentally chides himself.

Oh, Archons, the idea of you of all people innocently stumbling across a miniature version of you was horrifying.

Would you be disgusted?

Would you think it was silly? Stupid?

Would you think your lover made it?

Or some creep stalking you?

He pales as he grips the knob of the door, only to yelp when the door suddenly swings towards him, and oh god, you’re home and the house is a mess-

“Wanderer! I’m hom- Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you chuckle, seeing his reddened face. As you shut the door, you note his normally silky hair looked a tad extra tousled, sticking out everywhere; you also hum at the crimson hue painting his cheeks and ears, and the very slight haggard breathing. Behind him, the house looks like a storm blew threw.

Was… he the storm? His hat was missing, so maybe he flew around the house…?

“…Doll, are you okay?” You ask, stepping forward to grab his hands. You feel a flinch when you make contact and his eyes bolt to yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he was lost for words.

Internally, he froze when you said ‘doll’, even though it was a frequent flyer for petnames.

“…I-I’m fine,” he mutters gruffly, “just need to get some air. Do you need something from Treasures?” he finishes, giving you an impatient look as he releases your hands and steps towards the door behind you. You gesture to the mess of pillows and blankets with a laugh.

“Not from Treasures, but I do need you to tell me why the house is a mess…?” You request, snatching his hands tightly to prevent him from darting out the door. The sight behind him was very not Wanderer. The man was a clean freak; he would never have left the house in such a mess, nor be the cause of a mess that bad. Distantly, your memories replay about the time he scolded you for not folding and putting away the bath towels. Your eyes drift to your cup of now-cold tea from the morning and make a mental note to clean that up soon before he notices.

He seems to short-circuit at your ask, struggling to come up with an answer that didn’t reveal the whole, embarrassing truth. Carefully choosing his words, he explains, “I’m looking for something I must have dropped. Nothing too important,” he breathes, fixing the rise and fall of his shoulders and chest, patting himself on the back for the most natural response. “Quite annoying to misplace things.”

You give him a curious look, gingerly letting go of his hands when you confirmed he wasn’t going to race out the door. “Oh? Wanderer, you never misplace things. What would this item be? I don’t mind helping.”

Your kind look did not ease his nerves at all. In fact, he tensed up at the thought of you knowing what he lost. Your curiosity told him you didn’t know what he was referring to, but you could be acting.

Did you already know what he creepily works on in the dead of night when you’re fast asleep?

When he lays next to you in your small bed, a candle illuminating his handiwork?

Did you-

“…if this is about the doll, it’s cute, you know!” You finish cheerily, looking at him and waiting for a trademark grumble or dismissive wave.

Except, Wanderer was not paying attention to a single word you said.

His eyes were just wide, staring off to the side as his hand trembled.

The door behind you leading to the bathroom had a loose screw.

There was a dust bunny near the cabinet.

Your cup of tea this morning was still near the door, forgotten after you started to rush for work and he managed to make a note to scold you for that.

He was so lost in thought and you noticed.

Suddenly, a warm hand cradles his cheek and he snaps out of it, jumping back. “If you didn’t hear me,” you started to murmur, “I said if you’re looking for the doll of me, I found it in our room this morning.”

The midnight-haired main starts to stammer, one foot sliding back to create distance between the two of you. Archons, he was so embarrassed. He couldn’t even keep up the mask right now—

“I guess it fell under the bed after you were working on it.”

Oh, you knew and found it. Oh, you knew and he was so screwed. You’ve been hiding how silly you thought his hobby was. Hiding how creepy of him it was to meticulously craft a doll that looked like you. It’s not normal to make a doll of your lover to keep by your side-

“Wanderer. Please listen.”

His eyes dart to yours and you see a startled look get drowned by a mask of indifference. His dilated pupils seemed to facetiously relax. But you knew better at this point.

“You found it?” He repeats, his voice unnaturally steady, unnaturally calm compared to his earlier tension. But you could see his shoulders’ cadence as if he was struggling to remember to look human. His eyes flitter around your features as if frantically searching for signs of repressed repulsion or judgment.

“Yes,” you repeat and step closer. You ignore the fact he took a small, timid step back. “And, if you were listening, I found it cute,” you finish again.

Wanderer’s eyebrows furrow.

“Cute?” He scoffs, “it’s just a mere doll. A meaningless one at that,” he mutters, redness tainting his ears.

Meaningless? Considering who the doll was inspired by… that was so very far from the truth.

He decided if he played this all off, you might just let it slide. He wanted the floor to swallow him whole than have the current conversation you both were having right now.

If he didn’t let it fall under the bed, this wouldn’t be happening. In retrospect, it makes sense. He was working on attaching the little gem to a chain and onto the doll. He remembers gingerly wrapping the chain around the neck and putting the finishing touches to secure it nicely… and then laying on his back and slowly, almost shyly resting the doll of you closer to his chest. He even remembers rolling onto his side to cradle it close, resting his chin on the top of the doll’s head, and deciding he would sleep.

You sigh and grab his hand, leading him to the messy living room. You both hop and skirt around the chaos on the floor and sit on the couch together. His hands are stiffly placed on his knees, and now he’s redder than before when he realizes you were awake at some point and saw him work.

“Meaningless, huh? Are you embarrassed-” You chuckle and ask and he sputters, opening his mouth for a curt response, but you cut him off hastily, “because I don’t think you should be!”

Wanderer just slumps in his spot, leaning against the backrest of the couch. Honestly, he was just exhausted. After uprooting basically the whole house, spiraling and panicking, and now having to have this conversation was so frustrating, so draining. “Just… give me the doll. I don’t really want to talk about this,” he grits out and stands up, waiting for you to follow and show him where you had it.

“Darling, it’s just on the shelf,” you laugh, pointing at the mini version of you neatly sitting on the shelf of books, high in the room. “I thought it was very cute, as I have said multiple times, so I put it up on display. I didn’t know where you kept it. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

A quiet grumble slipped from your lover as he stormed to the shelf and snatched the doll. ‘How humiliating’, he thinks as he hastily shoves the doll into his sleeve. ‘All of this, just for it to be right in front of me-’

A loud ‘aww’ pierces through the air, causing him to whip around to see you clasping your hands over your mouth. Your ears have turned a little red too and he stares, waiting for yet another round of humiliation to kick in. Archons, just deal the final blow already…

“You keep me with you?” You grin, bouncing up from the seat to rush to him. He stammers, as you quickly wrap your arms tightly around him. “I’m so flattered,” you murmur into his shoulder.

‘What is happening right now?’ The man thinks to himself, his hands hovering over your back, unsure what to do with himself. His hands were shaking, fingers bouncing between opening and curling closed “… I always have you, err, the doll, with me,” he chooses his words carefully. Still didn’t want to creep you out, but trying not to just outright lie.

You suddenly grasp his face, squishing his cheeks in the process. You ignore his protests and stare right into his eyes. “I will repeat myself for the last time. This is cute. You are cute. Please continue your hobby and stop worrying about what I think,” you remind him firmly, “besides, you don’t have to worry. I am honored to be your muse.”

You sense his unwavering hesitation and disbelief in his wide eyes, so you reassure him more gently after a pause, “…Wanderer, I love that you do this. When I wake up at night and see you working at your desk, I am reminded how wonderful it is to be loved by you.”

With his warming cheeks still firmly under your control, he only stares at you. Again, his mind is racing, but this time with much less negativity.

You like the doll?

You’re not disgusted?

It wasn’t stupid?

You’ve found comfort in seeing him work on it?

You want him to continue?

He’d begrudgingly admit that he was half-listening to your reassurances earlier; it was so hard to let the chaos in his brain simply quiet his anxieties and accept your words.

The doubt and hesitation are still clearly shown in his eyes, but there was a distinct change with the storm in his eyes. You let go of his cheeks and press your forehead onto his. “I’ll let you process this and calm down. But in the meantime, please help me clean up the mess you made,” you giggle lightly, your eyes drifting to the pillows near your feet. His eyes also follow your gaze down to the floor before letting out a quiet huff followed by a soft nod.

Later that night, you were pressed against his side, fully awake and alert. You were nodding along to his words, carefully listening to his explanations. You watched his perfect digits weave the thread through the doll; not a single mark marred his skin. With a small smile gracing his relaxed features, the wandering ascetic was murmuring how he plans on sewing you a new shirt next week as he attached a new, tiny flower clip he made the other day.

#wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuma’s fics

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 11 months

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An interesting thing about Kaz is the way he views a hierarchy within everyone he meets, an attitude probably defined in him by the Kerch culture of trade and the environment of Ketterdam. Kerch is a country that in many ways is designed to reflect the American Dream as it is portrayed in classic literature such as The Great Gatsby: as an ultimately unattainable and useless lie, designed to control and quell the masses in the danger of extreme capitalism. The social hierarchy in Ketterdam is well-established and discussed throughout the novels, though mostly in Crooked Kingdom since the plot stays almost entirely within city limits, and the attitude of viewing a miniature hierarchy amongst those around you as part of the overall societal structure is evidenced in Kaz, and possibly reflected in Wylan; a link both to their different upbringings within the Ketterdam social structure, and their position as literary foils. (I wrote a whole long thing about how Kaz and Wylan had/have the potential to become each other, so feel free to check that out for more detail if you want it). The city’s hierarchy and the unattainability of joining the rich upper echelon of society is cleverly hinted at from the very beginning of Six of Crows, when Kaz is jumped and then wakes up in what he expects to be the deb of a rival gang. He instead finds himself in Councilman Hoede’s Manor House, which I believe is on the Geldstradt, and the way he makes the distinction is by realising that the decor in the room he’s in “takes real money”. We know that people like Pekka Rollins or Tante Heleen have become truly rich from what they do in the Barrel, and so it’s strange to suggest that you’d need “real money” for this since we would generally use that phrase to refer to a large amount of money. What Kaz actually means here is “old money” or “family money”; you need the kind of money that the Merchant Council have been hoarding for generations, making supposedly risky trades when they have millions of savings to cushion the blow if things go wrong, not the kind of money that comes from the popular gambling dens and brothels of the Barrel. He means the kind of money that Daisy and Tom have in Great Gatsby, people who’ve never worked a day in their lives and yet like to think of themselves as very successful at life when all they’re truly succeeding in is spending their parents money, not the kind of money that Gatsby scraped and saved and began to chase through undisclosed illicit means. Even when men like Gatsby and Rollins make their money, and their name, they are never equal in the social hierarchy to people with old money. (To be clear, not that this is a defence of either character, I have criticisms of both, especially Rollins).

But the hierarchy Kaz places upon himself and upon the others is slightly more subtle, and arguably subversive. He looks down on Matthias because he “stinks of decency” and because he supposedly hasn’t struggled, arguably gaining slightly more respect for him when he learns of him losing his parents and baby sister but still maintaining the idea of ‘everyone has a sob story and you were clearly more lucky in your options to deal with it than I was, it’s not my fault if you made the wrong choice’. We as readers obviously know that Matthias had no options but to go with Jarl Brum and spent the next 6 years of his life (I think that’s the right amount of time, please correct me if I’m wrong) being emotionally manipulated and abused by him, but Kaz simply refuses to accept has suffered because it would be psychologically damaging to him to admit that Matthias was able to go through that and still come out a good person, when Kaz sees himself as having become truly demonic. Matthias looks down on Kaz for the exact same reason, unable to understand - especially since he knows far less detail about Kaz’s trauma - how someone who ever had a core of decency couldn’t maintain it through their pain, he assumes Kaz was never a good person, or never had the potential to be one. Kaz also looks down on Wylan, arguably far less for his attempt to maintain a core decency but because he views Wylan as having had the option to do so. Kaz seems to have more respect for Wylan in Crooked Kingdom than in Six of Crows, when he knows more about (but never, it should be noted, the full extent of) Jan Van Eck’s abuse to his son, once again showcasing that he struggles to accept the idea of someone feeling bad when they have supposedly suffered less than him. His trauma has clearly warped him in many ways, and one of them is losing the ability to see relative pain and how different things can affect different people in different ways; he effectively views everything in the manner of ‘I had it worse, and I’m fine so you need to get over yourself’. He labels Nina “a snob” for staying away from the Crow Club and the Slat despite being a Dregs member, and her response is “she didn’t much care what Kaz Brekker thought”. I think that Nina is possible the person Kaz holds the most respect for in his platonic relationships, and that is mostly because she simply couldn’t care less whether he respects her or not.

His relationship with Jesper is more complex; he judges Jesper for his addiction and yet continually eggs him on, giving him a line of credit to play cards at the start of Six of Crows and having the first step of his planning in Crooked Kingdom to make Jesper play all night, although it’s unclear whether Jesper has ever shared anything about his mother if anyone knows then the most likely parties are Kaz or Inej and yet Kaz forces Jesper to give up his revolvers in Crooked Kingdom, his most treasured possession and his constant connection to his late mother, he consistently infantilises Jesper, but mostly in his head and this is possibly an interesting link to the final nail in the coffin of their relationship; Kaz sees Jesper as a substitute to Jordie. I think it’s possible that he likes to see him as younger because that’s how he remembers Jordie - it’s also important to remember that Kaz is now several years older than his elder brother ever was so seeing him in someone his own age is possibly even more painful because that’s a point Jordie never reached (he was only 13 when he died). Jesper is someone that Kaz feels the need to keep at arms length, not because he doesn’t respect him but because he fears having a close relationship with someone who could so easily slip away from him like Jordie did. I think we can also arguably see aspects of Jordie within Jesper, the naïveté of thinking you can make it Ketterdam followed by the city swallowing you whole, killing Jordie and driving Jesper to his slow self-destruction - “I’m dying anyway, Da. I’m just doing it slow”. (If y’all have read many of my analytical posts you may have begun to notice that’s one of my favourite quotes)

Then we have Inej. Kaz places Inej on a pedestal whatever she does. I’ve spoken before about how she claims to be bad at picking locks whilst he claims to have done “a shoddy job at teaching her to pick locks” because he’s incapable of accepting that she is incapable of something; if there are flaws, they must be his because she cannot have any. In a lot of situations this can be harmful, going back to the romance of Daisy and Gatsby where Daisy is placed on a pedestal and idealised so much that she become more of an image than a person, so when she does not live up to his every high expectation Gatsby is destroyed by it. But with kanej this seems only to elevate their position, possibly because Kaz isn’t claiming that Inej is flawless, but rather that she is capable of working on her flaws in a way that he isn’t; it is almost a form of envy. For example, Inej also has a fear of touch and human contact, but she purposely forced herself to cope with small amounts of it, such as allowing Nina and Jesper to hug her even though it makes her flinch, because she fears it becoming a debilitating condition, as it has done for Kaz (not that she knows that initially when it’s first implied that she too fears contact). In the bathroom scene when she admits to him that she also struggles with touch, it has such a massive effect on Kaz not because he refuses to accept that she has flaws but because he sees her as so much stronger than himself and wishes that he could be more like her. Although both of them are ultimately unable to go any further than a few light brushes of contact, it’s suggested that what trigger Inej more than the touch itself is the sexual implications of those touches based on everything she went through at the Menagerie. Kaz doesn’t see Inej aligned with with himself or the other gang members, but as above them - and not in the way he labels Nina as a snob, but in a genuine manner he refuses to acknowledge her as low in society because he sees her as deserving of so much more. He notably never refers to her as “a canal rat” and he never even comes close to defining her by her time at the Menagerie, a start contrast between him, the supposed low of the hierarchy, and Van Eck, the supposed upper, he yells at her “you little skiv! You little whore!”. However, there is one way in which Kaz arguably looks down on Inej and it’s in a similar way that he looks down in Matthias: how dare she still try so hard to remain truly good, and decent, and to find her Saints and to politely ask them for forgiveness, when it would be so much easier to let the world beat that out of her? Arguably, it’s not that he judges either of them for their faith, but it’s that he fears them judging him for losing his, be that in religion or in the world at all. (I don’t think we know if Kaz was raised in a religious household or not, but based on societal structure in Ketterdam and the way most of the population in most of the countries are religious I think it’s safe to assume he at least grew up with an understanding of Ghezen). Kaz fears that they’ll judge him for failing to maintain his core of decency, which is exactly what Matthias does, and so he aims to offend or challenge them before they can him.

Ok I’m not gonna lie to you guys it’s like quarter past one in the morning as I’m writing this, and oh my god it just got so long out of nowhere… I might have lost my point somewhere in there, I don’t even know, this came from one quote I was thinking about and I’m not sure I even wrote that quote in there so, yeah, I guess. If you bothered to read this far the tysm I hope it made sense

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kanej #kanej my beloved #kanej bathroom scene #kanej supremacy #matthias helvar #freddy carter #amita suman #ketterdam #kerch

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controld3vil · 1 year

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upset much?

PAIRING: AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER SYNOPSIS: you drive your husband mad when you want to go dragon riding. NOTES: - reader's house is not specified - this is all fluff lol! i just wanted a happy moment with the greens :) - btw tysm for the love from my last work! ik its been months since then but i really do appreciate the constant support!

WEARINESS adorned your delicate features upon the break of dawn. The faint beam that brimmed through your pearl curtains to the vivid gold chamber. A gust of wind blows across your bedroom, allowing the blinds to sway mindlessly. On the day of the sunrise, many of the royal family prepare for the following course. Members of Kingsguard stand and patrol the sacred grounds of the quarters you’ve become familiar with. King’s Landing, the palace is known not to stay awake at night despite no festivity. The morrow is lively and occupied by staff members and Council debating politics.

However, unlike the latter, you have not aroused. Neither the morning dew nor the breeze stirs you awake. Instead, you leisurely heave and twist until you are snug amongst the veils and cushions. Though your drowsiness soon dwindles as the gates to your enclosure are unlatched. A small group of maidens trod inside and presently began to busy themselves. Some started to tend your wardrobe. A few others cleared your vanity and lounge of its cluster. A few paces behind them revealed Princess Helaena in her relaxed green gown.

You wouldn't be able to see her expression. But you could assume by the pace of her efforts Helaena appeared distressed. Her rushed movements halted when you felt the cushions of your bed flatten a bit. A soft exhale came out of her throat in a moment of ease.

You couldn’t help but snicker under the blankets. Helaena’s kind heart was fickle, often leading to her becoming expressive at times of assertiveness. You emphasized with her. The painful hole in your chest when in the events of tragedy is a natural emotion. However, when you could not wake up from a prior’s day's work, a simple uncertainty provoked your dear sister-in-law to panic - a spiral of disaster on either part of the receiver or contributor.

In your serene eyes, Helaena was a deity not to be trifled with. Her tender heart and caring personality are too endearing to disregard.

“Fret not sister, I’ve awoken,” you calmly voice to reassure her of your condition. Her pristine silver locks careen across her shoulders as she pivots to glance at you. Her amethyst orbs shimmered in the daylight that had earlier ascended. “I apologize for the delay to breakfast.”

In response, she soughs childishly. “You startled me!” Another exhale as she mumbles your name. “Mother was worried if you were going to show up.” You could sense enjoyment in her tone as her lips gradually curled into a smile.

“It's too early for breakfast,” you grumble jokingly - turning to face the window. Again you can discern a giggle as Helaena quickly snatches the many layers that cover your figure. The two of you playfully fought back and forth between the sheets while the maids wandered about. Some periodically snickered - others held cheerful grins, marveling at your sweet banter with the Targaryen princess.

Helaena was your first companion when you first arrived at King's Landing. Her miniature and doll-like features piqued your curiosity. It left you in awe. Moreover, her early infatuation with bugs and insects directed you to the pleasure of her presence. Many of your chats were regarding all types of matters. Her attentiveness aviated endlessly - you performed everything with her. Wherever you stood in the palace, Helaena was beside you. You were conceivably the first and only female friend she had in King’s Landing.

“It's past seven, silly!” she giggles affectionately. She hauls the last tug from your blankets. You eventually unleash your grasp and brace yourself on your elbows. Helaena likewise beams as she delineates your weary features with her fingers. “You must eat. Come, my mother is waiting for us!”

“I can't get up,” you pout, attending her laughter. She looked far too pleased upon your disheveled state. You know she means no harm and did not want to push you into any discomforting situation. Breakfast with the Queen Regent is of importance. She was to be your mother-in-law - in other ways, already a maternal figure in your life. You can hope she understands your delay and weary condition.

Down the halls of the palace, vociferous footsteps echo across the hallways. The impulsive arrival of another family member of House Targaryen stunned a few of the maids as they hastened their work. You peek towards the unrestricted doors to find Helaena with her expression more optimistic. Possibly she was eager to see her brother in a state of recklessness.

“Aemond,” Helaena hums with a hint of giddiness. He reaches a stop a few feet from your bed railings. The maidens skim up anxiously at the eye-patched prince and then at his sister. Regardless, out of fear, they all scurry out of the room as quickly as possible. You wonder if his presence always alerts the working members of King’s Landing like mice. And as if Helaena had listened to your thoughts, she teasingly questions, “Must you always scare off the maids?”

“Are you hurt?” he asks with such confusion and determination. You could undoubtedly tell he was not in a jesting mood. Your sister-in-law notices and gives him a curt smile. She furthermore turns to you and reaches for your hand. You recuperate her action and clutch her hand softly and her cheeks glow pink.

“I’ll be waiting in the dining room,” she asserts in a quiet whisper. You nod and clutch her hand one more time before releasing. Her eyes glow with tenderness as she glimpses back and forth between you and your fiancé. “I’ll be waiting!”

As she skipped out of the room, Aemond unwinds his shoulders. The silence was consistently a recurrence in your relationship with Aemond. You would still find comfort in his presence. Aemond is calm and precise with his tongue. His eloquent indication is a quality you often admire. Thus you do not mind the casual tranquility between the two of you. It gives you a moment to admire him in his formal attire of a leather suit, colored in all black. His eyepatch hangs securely on his left eye.

Aemond acknowledges your stare and calmly strides to the curtained window. In moments of close intimacy, unknown to you, your fiancé feels awkward. He can't find the proper words to communicate to you. It nearly feels absurd of him to tell you his sentiments. An hour prior, his god-forsaken brother admittedly teases him of you having the flu. He implies that you seemed stressed from all the work you have been assisting the Queen. His mother had many duties daily. It was more than honorable of you to offer your service. Was it too much? Did you feel pressure from the Council and his grandsire?

To his relief, you were not sick. You were healthy and alive. And as he tries to ignore your gaze, Aemond finds it difficult on what to say next. It is immature and ridiculous of him to fall for such a plan trick.

But the matter was concerning you.

The young prince could never turn his back on you. He values your tolerance with his insufferable thoughts. As much as he wanted to ponder all the ways to get back at Aegon, you were still present, lounging.

“I am not hurt or ill,” you perk up, reminding him of the question he had asked. The silver-haired prince turns to see you stretch your arms. In a catlike way, you crane your neck upwards idly. With a groan, you add. “The maesters made sure of it.”

“Are you perhaps troubled?” The way he interrogates you is awkward and stiff. It must be difficult for him - you wager. It's easy to fake intimacy in front of guests and merchants. However, inside the establishment where only servants and guards are present, the importance of reputation is less stringent. Maintaining a sense of dignity is critical to avoid rumors and rejection.

“No, just restless,” You smile sleepily. You lay in the soft cushions of your bed. Your blanket is smooth and plush with cotton - excessively applied with your favorite fragrance. The oriental scent of amber fills your nose with ease. The perfume is faint yet potent. “Though I wished I had milk of the poppy.”

“The milk of the poppy will kill you, lady wife,” he responds in a composed and assertive manner. As you gaze, you notice his eyes locked onto yours.

"Why are you so concerned that you rushed into my chambers?" You meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. The bright summer rays of King's Landing reflect off his shining sapphire eye. Although he was concerned about your well-being, he hesitated to acknowledge it. It is up to him to decide whether to accept accountability or brush it off as mere jest. It's worth noting that he initiated the topic that ultimately led to your triumph.

You relish in your triumph when Aemond fails to respond. He turned and pushed back the curtains, allowing more light to enter the room. You were aware he couldn't bring himself to admit it due to his excessive pride. Despite your desire to tease and mock, you acknowledged the thoughtfulness in his actions. Aemond's reputation remains intact even without the presence of citizens and working staff to observe him. He possessed exceptional sword-fighting abilities and was known for his unforgiving precision. He exhibits unwavering commitment and dedication to carrying out his duties. Having trained with Criston Cole for years, he has learned the importance of strategy and strength. And his greatest attribute is his ability to remain silent.

After some contemplation, you decide to get out of bed. Your bare feet come into contact with the stone-cold floors as you pursue your fiancé. You proceed cautiously and approach him from behind, getting closer to him. Slowly raising your hands to trace the leather-laced armor of his, you can feel his shoulders lower in exhaustion.

For six months, you two drastically bonded over many things. Aemond became accustomed to your presence and hobbies gradually. The closer you got to him, the more you sought him out. It would start as casual conversations of each other’s day to extensive discussions of politics. You did not mind his forlorn interest in philosophy or combat - his interests allowed him the most freedom to speak. Close intimacy slowly became gradual. You were grateful for the relationship the two of you have created. The trust you built between each other was serene and comforting. As you hug your lover from behind, you tilt your head behind his shoulder. In addition, Aemond hugs your forearms for support.

“Would the Queen Mother be upset if we showed up late, dear husband?” you rubbed your eyes out of tiredness. Aemond narrows his eyes down at you meticulously.

“She could never be upset with you, love,” he murmurs, clenching his jaw.

You lovingly smile, holding out your hand. “Help me get ready?”

The way the sun beams beautifully down your figure makes his heart beat faster. He nods in agreement as you lead him hand in hand-to your wardrobe. The maidens that were present earlier had everything arranged according to your liking. You were lucky they came on such short notice. Your bedroom was abandoned - with the workload you helped with the Queen.

Something Aemond fails to acknowledge is his fondness for you. He finds it challenging to express his feelings to you. After all, you find it so naturally. But you are sly and discreetly tease him about it nonstop. Yet the short attempts of affection he tries are enough for you. Every action and phrase he speaks is enough for you. The way his heart yearns more for your attention and touch is overwhelming. It’s sickening. When he feels his emotion elevates, heat rises from his chest. To say you were a goddess. You look enchanting regardless of what you wear. His House colors of red and black only made your beauty more refined. The dark tones it alludes to make you look irresistible to the eye.

Aemond stares at your back, eyes softening. People often allude to his cold exterior and unwavering status. But what they can't deny is the way he looks at you. It's a redundant routine people gossip about. They detest - how can an elegant lady seduce a man like himself? Second sons are rumored to be mischievous - with a lack of devotion. Therefore it brings the entire realm stunned when Aemond shows up with you. His delicate gestures towards you surprise many of your close relatives. Even his family finds his devotion strange. However, the silver-haired prince doesn't care.

You're his ire, his muse. The way you sway back and forth in your nightgown - he feels lightheaded. Your hair is loose and messy, covering your shoulders. It's beautiful without the ribbons and braids. He knows you desperately wish to let your hair down more often. However, it is prohibited and considered to be unladylike. However, your face was glowing. Your rosy cheeks faintly remind him of peaches as well. And the flutter of your eyelashes makes your pouty expression more captivating.

He blames the sun for its ability to elevate your features. You were delicate like this. With no stress, you were much happier and content. The Councilmen and Queen should not have to pressure you. It was their position and status to oversee all functions of King's Landing. You mustn't bother yourself with extensive work and paperwork.

His thoughts were interrupted by you humming. You can sense his attentiveness was directed at you now. You present two dresses in front of him. One dress of his House colors while the other of yours. His choice was almost immediate by how his keen eye gazed longingly at it.

“Of course, you chose this,” you fling the disregarded dress back into the closest. “These are your favorite colors.” Your prince almost gives you a look, furrowing his eyebrows.

Instead, he says, “It suits you,” walking behind you to undo your nightgown laces. “You're a part of the family now.”

Aemond helps you, one leg at a time, and into the black dress. He adjusts the straps around your shoulders. The eventual silence that follows feels natural as the two of you maneuver over fixing any mishaps the dress needs. You annoyingly pull at the tight sleeves near your biceps - in return, your fiancé expands the straps to allow more comfort.

You’ve never realized how gentle he was with you. His presence itself gives you solace. There is no distress or discomfort. It’s the mutual understanding between you and him that solidifies your marriage. Alicent was lucky enough to have caught your affections on the day you visited King’s Landing. You were fortunate to meet Helaena. Without her help, you would not have been able to explore the castle halls. Without Helaena, you would not have met Aemond. For a mundane trip, it turned out to be exciting the next. After years of yearning and fear, Queen Alicent accepted your betrothal.

The dining table was beautifully vibrant in its many colors of fruits and savory dishes. While - the room carried dark tones of cold brick walls. The laggard cracks complement the heavily decorated windows. It brings out the illuminated light reaching from the dining table. It's rustic but comforting. In every corner, candles and the smell of the burning fireplaces dance back and forth. Baked goods and wine lay settled in the middle of the plateau. In truth, morning breakfast looked more like a party appetizer. With its many aromas, sweet and savory mix richly alongside the heavy wooden burned flames.

The window nearest to the doors lay bare, allowing fresh air to cleanse over the overwhelming flavorful goods. It was a meal fit for kings and queens. And truth, you were grateful to be living in King’s Landing with the Targaryens. Even though they hold the most power in the Seven Kingdoms, they welcomed you with open arms as the newest addition to their family. You’ve always feared that the Targaryens were greedy and ambitious rulers. Many kings passed through generations in time were either cruel or kind. But for most of your life, King Viserys was the latter, the most considerate and compassionate ruler of all of Westeros.

Because of his absence, you felt disheartened. On the few occasions you met, King Viserys was welcoming. He was enthusiastic about the marriage. His greetings were always with proud smiles. However, they never last when his eyes droop slightly. As if you could sense his conflicted thoughts, Viserys returns with a nervous nod. You can perceive a sense of hesitance and sadness that washes over the king. Those small interactions have made you grow to care for him more. There was an urge to seek him out - to always ask about his well-being.

Queen Alicent is polite and considerate. Since your stay at King's Landing, Alicent has been your mentor and friend. She helps you adjust to your new home. She allows you to listen to the gossip her maids speak of. You follow her on every trip she takes. You might have mistaken it to be her lady-in-waiting. In truth, she values your placement in Aemond's life and enjoys your conversations over tea and dessert.

“Good morning,” The queen gently smiles, clutching your hand. You squeeze her hand and return her smile.

“Good morning, my Queen.”

“Come, have a seat. There is plenty of food to go around,” Alicent gestures towards the remaining chairs across from Helaena and Aegon. Their twins, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys , sat at the ends of the table with two maids. You swiftly sit across from your sister-in-law. Your fiancé takes out his chair and sits quietly. “How are you feeling, dear?”

You almost forgot. Last night you went to bed early because of how exhausted you were. Alicent has insisted you retire early and take milk of the poppy if necessary. The maids around you wordlessly escorted you out. Your mind was hazy - you assumed you passed out. And when you woke to see the sunrise, you knew a day had passed. You weren’t sure if the poetry reading or running through the Red Keeps with the twins were the reason for your dilemma. But whatever was plaguing your mind was long forgotten. Though since you had woken up, your body felt sore and sluggish.

“I feel better, thank you.” In time, you were thankful for Alicent’s motherly qualities. Though you desperately miss your mother, she was never as kind-hearted and benevolent as the Queen. “I have thought about taking milk of the poppy-”

“You won’t be taking the milk of the poppy, my love,” Aemond voices, grasping your hand on the table. This action does not go unnoticed by his older brother - who quirks his eyebrow. “She is in better condition than she was before. There is no need for that.”

“Well, that is good to hear…” the Queen mother cheekily beams, crossing her hands together. “Shall we say our prayers?” Everyone nods in silence, listening to Alicent’s chanting words. Targaryens do not accept the Seven as their gods. They are closer to the gods than men. In respect of House Hightower, some rituals have stayed in the presence of the Queen. She is keen on keeping some of her customs alive with her children.

Straight after prayers, Aegon calls out your name. “Would you like to go dragon riding?” You look up at your brother-in-law in excitement. But before answering, he also adds. “The weather today is beautiful. We should ride out by Blackwater Bay.”

“I think that would be a lovely idea.” his wife, Helaena adds, patting her child. Her son, Jaehaerys babbles nonsense while his sister claps her hands eagerly.

“It sounds delightful,” you bashfully gleam, straightening your back from your chair. “Since the storm, I do believe the weather has dramatically improved.” You can feel his hand stiffen on top of yours. There was a valid reason for the prolonged discussion. Aemond tries to shrug it off, demeaning as if you are unfit to ride yet. He worries for your safety and avoids the conversation whenever you bring it up.

“It has,” Alicent softly mumbles before placing a piece of fruit into her mouth. After chewing, she then adds. “I think it would be good for the four of you to spend time together.”

“No.” Your husband upsettingly says upon placing his fork back. Your fiancé had a rough relationship with his brother. Aemond would rather spend time with you alone than have Aegon intrude. Aegon was bothersome and a nuisance in his eyes. It did not help that Helaena was by his side. He could never deny ignoring his older sister - he would have to endure it.

Aegon looks at his younger brother mockingly. “Why so, brother? It would be fun to spend time with your siblings and future lady wife.” You can sense his anger is ticking higher and higher with Aegon’s pestering. The room suddenly felt tense - even the children quieted down. Helaena sat beside her husband, twiddled her fingers, and said nothing. Not once did she intervene between the two princes. It was something not even the Queen could detest. Targaryens were known for their hard-boiled temper. Violence was within their domain. It was something you were aware of - that did not stop you from intervening.

“That is exactly why I would not want to,” Aemond says with irritation. Alicent was quick to pierce her lips in weariness, afraid of what events might transpire next. “I will not have you alongside my lady wife go dragon riding. She is not fit to ride.”

"Funny since, as I recall, she has lived here for six months. She can handle being around dragons!” His older brother laughs, eyeing you to back his claims. Despite your anger, you agreed with Aegon. Your lack of intimacy with the dragons in the Dragonpit was natural. For six months, you have grown closer to Aemond and Vhagar. Occasionally you would meet him and his dragon outside the kingdom. Meeting her for the first time terrified you.

Dragons were a majestic delicacy even for your House. They were rare legendary beasts from the time of old Valyria. Every time you meet her, she gradually becomes comfortable around you. You can tell whenever she takes in your scent occasionally that she knows you would be a frequent visitor. Progress with Vhagar was slow and favorable. Aemond has encouraged you to move closer to her prominent form. Once you were in close vicinity, it felt exhilarating. Her large snout and rough scales were captivating. Her size intimated you first - eventually, you grew to appreciate her stature. She held such power that not even Sunfrye or Dreamfrye could compare.

Tightening your grip, you turn to your fiancé. "Fret not husband," You say in a soothing tone. Aemond's eyes soften, and the crease on his eye flattens. "I think it would be fun to fly alongside Aegon and Helaena. And I promise to be careful." His stare is unwavering, looking into the souls of your eyes with confidence. You can tell he is thinking of all the possible ways to deny your promise. Many casualties could happen out of his control when riding a dragon. It is risky - he was born to ride one. You were not.

“You will not be riding on either Sunfrye or Dreamfrye.” he slowly sneers and looks back at his brother. Jokingly again, Aegon wickedly grins and raises his glass to sip. Helaena, unbeknownst to everyone, released a breath she had been holding for the entirety of their conversation. Alicent also sighs in relief, eternally grateful to have your caring nature.

“You all best eat and dress appropriately for the summer winds.” Alicent again states, taking a slip of her fresh drink. You can help but gleam happily beside your fiancé.

In honesty, the summer wind was as hectic as last night. The storm previously struck many waves, and disaster in the forest was no different. However, the sun shines brightly without thundering clouds. As the day spring glows down on your attire, you suddenly feel nausea. It possibly was from the intense smell of euthymic or the lingering scent of dragons. You wore a tight tunic with black gloves. You were also grateful for Helaena’s assistance as you’ve never worn dragon riding gear before.

It would be your first time riding a dragon. Something you desperately looked forward to from the first moment you officially met Vhagar. She was massive and intimating. Much like your so-called future husband, she was brooding and quiet. She should know many values of how she groaned and blinked curiously at you for the first time. Aemond was reluctant to allow ease between the two of you beforehand. He believed it was best if you were to live in King’s Landing with him, you had to become accustomed to Vhagar. Through many meetings and encouragement, you’ve become rather fond of the oldest dragon in the world. She was gray and incredibly violent but also peculiar and playful.

Therefore whenever you jumped at the opportunity to pet her, she lightheartedly nudged you. And on a day when you would be traveling with two more dragons, you were more than happy to ride alongside her. When you stepped onto the field where she lay, Vhagar abruptly rose to look down at you.

Aemond takes notice in her quick position and stops the two of you. Your eyes twinkle in glee, shouting in Valyrian, “Hello, Vhagar!”

In return, she howls in the loud grumble that shakes the ground beneath her. The grasses wither in terror, similar to the dragon tamers who watch from afar. Knowingly no one could tame Vhagar at her size, Aemond is the only one allowed to survey her. Even when she barely fits in the Dragonspit, he’s reluctant for her to stay outdoors on the open valleys and terrains as she pleases.

A few feet behind you, Aegon shouts back at you. “You know the Valyrian tongue?” in such surprise that you laugh at his bewildered expression. Helaena, following her husband, claps in enjoyment, proud of your fluency. Your soon-to-be husband grins at you in satisfaction though none of the other dragon tamers nor Helaena see. You giddily chuckle before dragging him towards the beast. Only you and Vhagar were able to witness him in this state.

“How else would I be able to communicate with Vhagar?!” Teasingly back, you turn to Vhagar almost mutually she nods. Admittedly, you and Aemond stroll toward her towering form in adoration. Even to this day, you were impressively intimidated by her size. Yet only a mere interaction, your heart shortly slows down and makes you realize you cherish her in every circumstance.

You make your way up the saddle that holds onto Vhagar's back. Ropes that hang alongside her back require endurance and strength. The ropes interlocked like nets used for fishing. For a few grueling minutes, you were disdainful of how far you managed to climb on Vhagar’s back. A few feet below, you can see Aemond slowly ascending closer to your feet. Traveling up the creature's back was tedious - you wonder how he accomplished this daily to ride her.

The silver-haired prince moves to the front of the steering position. He readjusts the ropes and restraints before looking behind at your sitting stance. You uncomfortably adjust your seating position, gripping the saddle. He gestures to you to move closer as you grasp his waists tightly. He anticipates waiting for you to say anything - you don't. Comfortably, you rest your chin on his shoulder, and your faces become centimeters closer.

The look on Aemond's face is subtle yet gentle. He holds one of your hands and kisses your palm. Immediately you can feel the butterflies in your stomach flapping. You can see from afar that Aegon and Helaena had also climbed on their dragons and lifted off. Everything at one once feels out of perspective. The out-of-body experience you feel when Vhagar's wings start to flap. Thrilling and terrifying at the same time. The moment when the Vhagar leaves the ground, your heart beats so fast, you only focus on your heartbeat.

Straight away, you were transported up into the skies. The harsh currents make you squint your eyes shut. It feels almost too intense. Even your ears feel suffocated, unable to hear anything else than the rushing breezes. You couldn't register where you were right away. Your vision slowly came back to you as you saw faint shapes of white. The clouds you often catch from below look majestic from where you flew. You were at a loss for words. The tales Aemond had described could never compare to the view you were seeing. The sun you could see thousands of miles away was more prominent and glowing.

You can hear Aegon laugh nearby - you cannot look away from the view. In your far-right peripherals, you can see Helaena’s fleeting form. She is utterly ravishing. Not that you had ever seen her in any other way - her hair sways back and forth, making you short of breath. She can feel your stare and looks at you teasingly. It was as if she knew you were still adjusting to the high pressure of the sky and pushed Dreamfyre to dive below.

The long-haired prince peers behind to quirk up an eyebrow. As if asking you, terrified yet? Of course, your blood was pumping the fastest it ever felt. Your neck was hot from the sweat and adrenaline you had. Everything happened so quickly. How could you not possibly be terrified? However, you know he was testing you. Aemond was used to the adrenaline. You were the one who had just gone through a fever dream.

You were about to say something until Vhagar plunged at high speed. The immediate whiplash of water and wind makes you scream, tightening your grip on Aemond’s waist. You can feel your stomach drop. Your waist almost lifts itself from the saddle. You try to shriek for Aemond’s attention - it is no use. And almost immediately, everything comes to a stop. The clouds disappear from your peripherals while the green landscapes come into view. Without realizing Vhagar dips cooly down to the ocean, allowing one of her wings to skim through the waters.

You were in awe and amazement. The entire ride up and out of the sky was worth the scare. Slowly your senses come back to you. The dizziness you felt was no longer there. And the unwanted tears from the high pressure were not dry. Not to mention, your hair was a mess. Your entire face was pale beside your rosy cheeks. And when the rest of the dragons come to view by a valley side of a beach, the two of you carefully descend from Vhagar's saddle.

“That was amazing!” you gasp, realizing how out of breath you were. You shook Aemond's shoulders back and forth, still energetic after the after-flight. “The clouds were so beautiful, Aemond!”

“You looked so out of breath!” Your brother-in-law snickered out of breath, jumping off of Sunfrye with ease. Helaena does the same and dusts off the dirt from her pants. She looked short-winded but managed to keep her composure intact. However, out of everyone, Aemond was the most capable. He did not look tired - his clothes were windblown.

“Do you understand why you are not fit to ride now?” You glance at the prince's slyness. You comprehend Aemond was being sarcastic, ridiculing you for your out-of-breath roller coaster ride of a lifetime. It proves that you were very much not accustomed to dragon riding and its strong currents of twists and turns. And though he is right, you were too prideful to submit.

“Oh, of course, dear husband,” you mock back, slowly closing the gap between you two. A grin slowly creeps on Aemond's face. “But I would very much like to go again.”

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cambion-companion · 1 year

Note

I'd like to request a list prompt of Soft Aemond during Reader's pregnancy.

Soooo this one took a life of its own...stop reading like...halfway thru if you don't want smut/only fluff

Word count: 1583

You sat with a sigh of relief upon the cushions of your bedroom sofa, holding the swell of your pregnant belly with both hands for support.

“Muña, look what kepa and I made together!” The eager voice of your five year old daughter met your ears as she ran over to where you sat, placing a dragon miniature upon your knee.

“What a beautiful dragon!” Despite your aching muscles you met the girl’s enthusiasm with a bright encouraging smile. “Have you given it a name?”

“We were considering Urrax, though Melysa wants to name her after you.” Aemond, who had entered the room shortly after his daughter, smiled down upon you both. “I think that’s a great idea!”

A small hand touched your abdomen as Melysa felt for the familiar kicks of your baby. “What are we naming her?”

Aemond crouched beside Melysa, placing his own hand atop hers, his violet eye flicking to your face while his sapphire eye refracted the light from the fireplace.

You smiled at your little family, caressing the back of Aemond’s hand with your fingers. “You think it’s going to be a girl, Melysa?”

“I know…” Your daughter’s silver hair, so much like her father’s, shone in the dim firelight. “I’ve seen it.”

Aemond raised a brow at you briefly before kissing Melysa’s curly head. “You must help us come up with a name, then. Only later!” With a swift movement, he scooped her into his arms.

She shrieked as he tickled her sides, squirming to escape his strong arms. Aemond relented, pressing another kiss to Melysa’s forehead. Her lilac eyes gazed up at him in adoration as she gripped a lock of his long hair in a tiny fist.

“I think it’s time for bed.” You said, shifting your bare feet closer to the crackling fire for warmth. “Passed time, in fact.” Aemond agreed, shushing Melysa’s immediate protestations.

You rose, grabbing the dragon from off your knee and carrying it as you followed your husband and daughter into the adjacent room. Aemond placed Melysa carefully under the covers of her bed, tucking her in and caressing her hair.

You sat at the foot of the mattress, leaning forward to place her small dragon in the crook of her arm. You ran a finger down her smiling cheek. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Sing me a song, muña.”

“Darling, not tonight.”

Melysa whined. “Please.”

You looked pleadingly at your husband. “Aemond…”

“Close your eyes, perzītsos. My little flame.” Aemond began humming a low, soothing tune.

You watched, entranced, privy to a scene only you and your daughter would ever see. His voice was lovely, you closed your own eyes as the melody he hummed rose and fell. You felt your shoulders relaxing, your clasped hands falling loose in your lap.

Soft lips brushed against yours and you opened your eyes, looking into the handsome angular face you loved so much.

“Come, my love. Let me take care of you.” Aemond took your hand, guiding you back into your shared chambers and sitting you down upon the sofa once more.

He knelt before you, his back to the fire, and moved your feet to rest upon his lap. Aemond began rubbing small circles into the sole of one foot, a small gasp of relief escaped your lips despite yourself.

“Thank you, my dragon.”

“You are the one carrying our child, Y/N.” Aemond tilted his head at you, a curtain of his silver hair falling across his shoulder. “It is the least I can do.” He pressed a loving kiss to your instep before moving to the other foot.

You sighed, leaning back against the cushions, closing your weary eyes as you allowed yourself to relax for the first time that day. You began to drift off once more, only to be awoken by the press of Aemond’s chest against your own as he trailed featherlight kisses up your shoulder to your neck.

“Mm, Aemond.” You turned your head lazily until your mouth found his.

He kissed you tenderly, worshipfully, savoring the nectar of your lips and the swell of your full breasts underneath his exploring hands.

“Come to bed, Y/N.”

“I could fall asleep right here.”

“That would be terrible for your back.” Aemond chuckled, helping you rise from the couch.

He slid under the thick covers next to you, helping you shift pillows to support your round belly. You snuggled in close to your husband, savoring his warmth on this chill winter night. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, and you placed a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat.

“Hmm.” Aemond hummed a pleased sound as you continued pressing lazy kisses to his exposed neck.

“I love you.”

He turned to face you, stroking a large hand along your abdomen as he looked into your face. “As I love you, nuhys qēlos.”

“Mmm, what does that mean again?”

“My star.”

“Ah.” You breathed, taking his hand in yours and guiding it up to caress your breast once more. “It feels good when you massage here.”

Aemond shifted onto his elbow, so he had better access to use both his hands. He smiled mischievously down at you. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

You laughed with him, ending with a gasp as he squeezed your flesh a little too hard. “Softer, please. Don’t get too eager, valzȳrys.”

“Very good.” Aemond pressed his lips to the fabric of your thin nightgown, just above where his hands kneaded more gently now. “You have no idea what it does to me hearing you speak High Valyrian, ābrazȳrys.”

He unlaced the neck of your shift, dragging the fabric down to free your breasts fully, dragging his fingers across your pert nipples. Your milk had already wetted your nightgown at his administrations, and now beaded against his fingers.

You saw Aemond’s tongue dart out to wet his lips as he gazed down at your full bosom.

His dilated eye found yours. “May I?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the flesh just above your areola.

“Yes.” Your breathing had become short, the exhaustion you’d been feeling momentarily forgotten. “I’d like that very much.”

Your breasts had become heavy from the milk they carried, though it certainly wouldn’t have crossed your mind to have Aemond help in such a way.

He was eager, however, taking your nipple into his mouth. You encouraged him to take you properly, reaching to cup your breast in your hand, the back of his head with the other. The feeling of his hot mouth around you, the tingling trickle of your milk letting down, sent a pleasurable warmth pooling in your core.

Aemond groaned against your breast, you could hear the intimate noises as he suckled and swallowed your milk. Your fingers wound themselves tightly in his long silky hair as you moaned quietly, your head falling back onto the soft pillow. Your free hand wandered down your body, trying to reach your wanting center but unable to get past your pregnant belly.

Your body shuddered as Aemond’s warm hand found your mound, dipping his longer fingers into the heat of your essence. He released your nipple with a pop, looking reverently up at you as a dribble of milk dripped off his chin onto your heaving chest.

“Aemond.” You whimpered, the lewd sight of him so disheveled and vulnerable causing your swollen clitoris to pulse with pleasure.

Aemond removed his hands from your slick folds, tasting your wetness upon his fingers, his eye closing in appreciation. “You are delicious, Y/N. Every inch of you.” He kneaded your other breast, pooling milk into his hand, lubricating his fingers with the filmy white liquid before returning them to the heat of your quim.

Your hips moved against his hand as Aemond attached once more to your nipple, drawing your milk onto his hot tongue.

You covered your mouth with one hand, stifling a loud moan as Aemond inserted two long fingers into you, scissoring them within the clenching walls of your vagina. He pressed further against the soft flesh of your breast, sucking more of it into his mouth.

“Aemond.” You whispered his name fervently. “Don’t stop, please.”

He made a sinfully low sound against you, thrusting quicker into you, crooking his fingers up against the spot that made your toes curl. With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your cunt squeezing him as he continued working you. Only when you begged him to stop, the overstimulation too much, did Aemond withdraw.

He placed his fingers, soaked with your release, against your mouth. You obediently laved them with your tongue as Aemond watched. He licked his own lips clean of the remnants of your breastmilk.

With damp fingers he clasped your chin, moving to meet your lips in a searing kiss. You tasted the sweetness of your milk on his tongue mix with the heady musk of your climax as Aemond deepened the kiss. Your eyes grew heavy, looking lazily up at your husband’s flushed face as he pulled away. You reached for him, but Aemond stopped your hand when your fingers grazed his groin.

“Rest, nuhys qēlos. I will wash you.” He moved away, gathering a pot to heat water over the fire.

“What about you?” Your words were slurred as you watched his movements sleepily.

“I will attend to my desires later.” Aemond grabbed a washcloth, dipping it in the warming water. “You are what matters right now.”

A languid smile itched up your face as you closed your eyes, feeling relaxed, your muscles warm and loose. “I couldn’t live without you, my love.”

Aemond looked across the room to your dozing form, the firelight shining golden upon his lustrous hair. “It is I who wouldn’t survive without you.”

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond one eye x reader #aemond smut #prince aemond x reader smut #aemond fluff #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #prince aemond x reader #aemond drabble #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #dad aemond

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5starluvr · 2 months

Text

Fairy lights and flowers

Genre:fluff

Pairing:Jeongin x Reader

Yours and Jeongin’s anniversary arrived in the blink of an eye.You weren't expecting much, preferring something special and private over crowded restaurants and forced events. Yet, as you entered your apartment, the scent of lavender and vanilla flew towards you, followed by the soft glow of fairy lights erupting from the balcony.

There, under a canopy of twinkling lights, stood Jeongin, a sheepish grin on his face and a picnic basket nestled in his arm. "Happy anniversary , love," he said, his voice as warm as the flickering candle on the miniature table, covered with a checkered blanket.

The scene was breathtaking. The balcony, typically mundane, had been transformed into a fairy like haven. Fairy lights cascaded down the railing, casting soft shadows on mismatched cushions and pillows scattered around the rug. Miniature flower arrangements, each unique and carefully crafted, covered the space, their sweet smell mingling with the lavender-infused air.

The picnic basket revealed a big meal for the senses. Delicate sandwiches with colorful fillings ,sweet and so much more sat next to the blankets. Fresh fruits, carefully sliced and arranged, looked like edible jewels, and in the center, a small heart-shaped cake sparkled with edible glitter.

But it wasn't just the food that left you breathless. It was the thoughtfulness behind it. Every detail whispered of how well he knew you, how deeply he cared.

As the last rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, you settled down, the soft music Jeongin had chosen drifting from a hidden speaker, creating an intimate yet sweet atmosphere. You talked for hours, the city lights twinkling below transforming into a vibrant backdrop. He laughed at your stories, listened intently to your worries, and shared his own dreams, the twinkle in his eyes outshining any fairy light.

Suddenly, amidst the conversation, he pulled out a small, rectangular box. Curiosity sparked in your eyes as you took it, fingers tracing the smooth cardboard. Inside were tiny Lego bricks in vibrant colors. A grin slowly spread across your face.

"Remember how we talked about building that Lego flower set together?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes. "I thought tonight would be the perfect time."

Later, snuggled under a warm blanket under the starlit sky, you held his hand, your heart overflowing with warmth. "This isn't just a picnic, Jeongin," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "It's the most beautiful surprise I could have ever imagined. And the Lego flowers make it even more special."

He squeezed your hand, his smile mirroring the warmth in your heart. "I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me, even though I’m busy and can’t spend a lot of time with you. You deserve magic, not just on our anniversary , but every day."

#stray kids #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz imagine #skz scenarios #jeongin x reader #jeongin #i.n skz #i.n x reader #i.n stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader

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tparker48 · 28 days

Text

Request for anonymous

"Let's see..add a few fine tuning on the stitches, tighten up the bells…" Merkeo muttered as he faced his computer desk, threading a needle through his jester suit. "Just a little bit of tugging and..There!”

He took a step back to admire his handy work. The black and red spandex glistened beneath his lamp, slumping from the miniature desk to the wooden board of the one beneath. It took him weeks to find a suit customizable, he could hardly count the shops he visited that sold suits for people his size. He took the suit from the desk, reminiscing its silky texture as it glided between his fingertips.

"Wait until the the peeps get a load of this, I can already tell this DnD session will be-"

A beep rang from the magnet on the front door, a hard thud striking the panel as a spiked cleat forced it to the wall. "Hey nerd! Guess who's home!" A voice boomed as the rest of their body lowered into the frame, the metal borders of the door screaming as they made their way passed. "I swear this damn door needs an adjustment. Hey nerd! Nerd!"

"I'm right here, Fervin!" Merkeo shouted, rubbing his ears from the vibrations in his ear drums. "Must you shout so loud? We're in a dormitory."

"What can I say? when I make an entrance, I make an entrance."

He slumped his duffel bag from his shoulder, tossing it against the wall as its weight sent a pulse through the floor. Merkel watched as his form strolled closer, like a looming storm cloud about to pour upon a landscape. The computer chair rushed back, Fervin's hide forcing the cushion down as it raced eagerly to support him.

He crossed his arms behind his back. "Oh it feels good to be out of that lecture room. The professor really cracked down on that essay, even double checked to ensure it was mine. Guess some pencil necks can’t handle such great genius."

"You mean my work. My whole sleep schedule’s out of whack because of your pestering."

the desk shook as spikes prodded upon the table. Merkel nearly yelped at its prickling touch, his hands casting to the air. "And it worked like a charm." He kicked his other foot upon the table. But he paused as he gazed at the slim ware hanging from his foot. “Huh, what are those? pajamas?”

The footwear wagged as Merkeo raced to retrieve his suit, cautiously eying the coned steel as they swiped from side to side. “If you must know, It’s my jester suit. And I would very much like it without holes for DnD.”

"That nerd shit? Pfft, lame. You can’t expect to get babes with a thing like that. Now that spring break party tonight, that’s where it’s really at. And guess who’s cohost? This guy!”

Merkeo managed to grab ahold of his suit, sliding it from the cold pedestal as he tumbled back to the desk. "You? Cohost? I don’t think they chose wisely on that."

“Cute, can’t be surprised to hear that from a bookworm. But If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to party.” He said. “The drinks, the babes, I can already imagine it now. And by the end of the night, I’m gonna bang me a cheerleader."

He raised his palms to the air, his fingers swaying to trace an hourglass shape. His hips slowly began to thrust, his junk pushing through from its pouch as it slithered to the leg hole of his shorts. Merkeo caught a glimpse as the phallus peeked out, shielding his eyes as his face flushed red.

"Ay Ay! TMI man, I don't want to see all that!"

"Aww is the nerd getting flustered?" His legs stretching over the desk, the hefty package between his legs gyrating against the wooden furniture. "I bet you wish you could be all over this."

"I’d rather do quizzes than be that close to you." he replied, "Will you put that away already?!"

"Hah, that's what I like about you nerds, always so squeamish." he slid his waist back to the chair, groping at the bulky outline. "Luckily for you, this bad boy has its eyes set on the ladies tonight. It can't waste time on small fries like you. Though it might give that thin noodle of yours some pointers."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Peh, suit yourself."

He grabbed a few beer bottles, hoisting them over his broad shoulders as he walked out of the room. Merkeo sighed, taking back to his suit as he checked for punctured points. Aside from dust particles, the fabric was unscaved. Thank goodness, he didn't know what he’d do if it became damaged.

He returned to his desk to tend to the rest of his props, organizing the board and creatures he was ready to unleash upon his members. Another hour ticked by in a flash, his notes piling over one another from his practice sessions. He yawned as he checked the clock on the wall, a quarter past 7:00 PM.

“Time for a break.” he leaned into his chair.

He took to his computer as he looked into his group chat for the group. Many online were already talking about the upcoming session, sharing new lores while roleplaying in their own channels. What a treat it was to indulge in fantasy, he thought, may he could give them a taste of the jester magic. He reached for his cards to select to share, but paused as he eyed his costume. He eyed the group chat as many shared their costumes, it sent an urge through his body, his fingers wiggling at the temptation of trying it on. He didn’t want to spoil the magic with a picture, but to send a picture of their grad DM, it may just make them excited, if not himself.

“Oh.. why not, I still have to make sure it fits anyway.”

He picked up the costume as he held it on his shoulder, stripping himself as the cool conditioning washed over him like a wave. He slipped his limbs inside, his hairs standing on end as they brushed against the elastic spandex. He soon put on his Cap n Bells as they dangled from the sides of his head, its little chimes sending a giggle from inside as he tapped at the round spheres.

“I think a quick selfie might do the trick. ‘The crowned jester and his future pawns’. Oo, that kinda has a ring to it.

He hovered his phone to get a better angle for himself, shifting the filter as sparkles boarded the frame. But the ground shook beneath as he caught himself, the water bottle on the desk rippling. An earthquake? It can’t be, the tectonic plate wasn’t near the university. Heavy thumps slowly overwhelmed the silent rumbles, traveling through the walls before it stopped at the front door.

The magnet chimed, but the handle didn’t turn as grumbling lingered behind it. The magnet reactivated, and pounds struck the door, as if a wild beast was trying to force its way in. Merkeo eyed the door as its pounds became aggressive, the green lighting of the magnet flickering before another strike snuffed out its light. The door slammed open, and wallowing filled the room.

Fervin loomed inside as he entered. One of his shoes were missing, and his "Damn it all..who do they think I am?! I'm a fuckin'.. Football player!"

His weight leaned as his feet stomped forward, like a drunk T-rex trying to run as he staggered to couch. He tripped over his own feet as he hurled toward the cushion, knocking the couch from its sliders as his head wedged into the soft gaps.

Merkeo used the railing in the room to make it over to the couch, standing upon the armchair. "The hell happened to you?"

"It's horrible..I go all that way to seek her out..An.. the hag blue balled me. Me!" He groaned into the cushions, scraping from its soft crevice. “You know how many want to..to.. Fuck me?!"

Fervin turned his head, his roaring breath flowing out like a dragon. Merkeo fanned the air as the smell of alcohol polluted the once clean air, holding the collar of his suit over his mouth to deter himself from passing out.

“You went and got yourself again! Didn’t you learn from the last party you went to.”

“Screw you!.. I don’t take orders from you! Why I..I” tears slowly sleeping through his eyes, a whimper escaping. “Damn it all..why do they have to make it so hard?”

Merkeo palmed himself. He must’ve drank too much if he’s already at his wallowing state. He sighed before hopping to the side of the lughead's face, caressing his cheek as its warmth filled his palm. "Hey now..you. There's no need to fuss about one girl." He said to him, wincing at the drool wetting his pants. "There's many out there in the sea, and I'm sure there's some out there waiting for him."

"Yeah right!" He blurted, knocking Merkeo onto his butt. " That's not gonna solve my aching cock right now!"

Fervin dug a finger through his waistband, the jock’s musk mixing with the tainted air as flesh squeaked against the sofa’s rubbery surface. The forearm above Steamrolled Merkeo as it traversed toward the bulging phallus, answering its wet call as his stubby fingers pampered its side. It throbbed it wedged itself between the crevice of the cushions, the jock’s hips flexing as he shuttered.

“Oh Yeah..that’s the stuff.” He muttered, his hips pumping into the couch.

"Dude! Not in the living room! Do that somewhere else."

"Sue me..I'm too pissed and horny to move."

His strokes increased as his hips moved like a wave, the wet slap of flesh overwhelming the silence in the room. Merkeo raced to comfort his ears as he moved to a cubard, searching through his supplies. He flipped over towels stashed in the corner, and found a plastic bottle of water sticking out from its packet. He wrapped his arms around the slender bottle and dragged it out, heaving it toward his drunken roommate on the couch.

“Alright, let’s get you sober so you don’t break the wall again?” Merkeo said.

Fervin grumbled as his knees slumped beneath him, thrusting him upward as his wait trailed backwards. Merkeo eyed cautiously at his blundering, backtracking as the stumbling feet trailed closer.

“I didn’t say move!” he yelped, rolling the bottle the opposite way.

But he wasn’t fast enough to outrun Fervin, his feet kicking in front of the other as he tilted like a chopped tree. The floor darkened before a wall of mass crashed at his back, burly arms planting the ground with a thunderous thump.

“That lady’s cheeks were cold… I’m barely s..satisfied.” He pawed the ground. “I need more!”

“Well you’re not getting one when you're on top of me! Now get off!”

His glassy eyes opened as he glared at him. "Piss off, man! I don’t need your..” he paused as he stared at the small roommate, his eyes blinking before they widened.

Merkeo met his gaze, looking at the marbled floor before looking back. "What?"

"Hey..where’d this toy come? Ho..How long have you been there?"

“Toy?" He blinked, tugging at his suit. "No, this is my suit, remember?"

"And it talks!..oh man..This must be my lucky day.”

"I have no idea what you're talking about. All that booze has gotten to your head. Why don't you go lay down and-" A palm wrapped around his body, plucking him from underneath. "Hey!"

His hand gripped like a vice, Fervin hauling him away as he returned to the couch with a drunken waltz. He was hurled into the closed fist as his back met with the soft cushion. He strung themselves to to the floor, a signal that rushed to the titanic cock as it pointed from his body. Merkeo pounded a hand at the sides of the jock’s fingers, the other covering his nose as the smell of rubber and jizz invaded his nostrils.

The phallus loomed closer, stamping at the gap between the middle fingers as it struck his chest. "A perfect fit..awesome." He slurred beneath his breath, his palms lifting as Merkeo plunged into the cavern of the couch, the bulbous head stamping his chin as it ensnared between his walls.

As the cock reached the bottom of the gap, it was a catalyst for Fervin’s arousal as hips began to pump. Flesh skidded against the silky suit, the phallus ramming into a pocket above Merkeo as the little bells were swallowed by the slit. Its warmth was overwhelming, his nostrils filling with a sour aroma as it stuck to his suit like cologne..

Merkeo raised his arms to shield himself. "Wait!…I'm not!.."

"Just a little more..a little more."

Fervin doubled his efforts as his hips twisted in place. The sweat that once dried between the cushions humidified as it loosened its restraints upon the tender skin, joined by the drizzling pre as it lathered into his roommate’s skin like lotion. The phallus scooped higher as it smashed Merkeo’s defense, the puffed edges moving like a wave as it stamped at his face.

He was stamped firmly as seed dressed his head, but unsatisfied puffs echoed above, a palm dragging him from underneath the bulging member. "Nrgh..that's not enough!" Fervin slurred from his lips. "How are you going to be a toy if you can't even get me off?"

"That's because I'm not a toy you lughead!"

His eyes squinted, eying the little roommates as strands of his own pre dripped to the couch. "Wha?..sure you are..I'm looking right at you." His fingers stamped across his body, the lonely bell on his right tuft jangling at his prods. "You look like a toy..feel like a toy. You are one…I'm just not using it right."

Gravity shifted as the palm tilted on its side, hovering over the hairy crotch. His other pinched eagerly at the drooling slit, pinching it open as its seed flowed down its underbelly like lava.

"What..what are you doing? No, hell no! You're not putting' me in there!"

"You better make this work..toy!"

"I told you I'm not a-!" his stomach dropped as the palm rushed toward the cock, a wet belch erupting from the cream filled phallus as it opened wide. Murky white fluid filled his vision as the orifice encircled his head. His shouts muffled from the bulging head, his palms slipping from the sides of phallus

Fervin's cock throbbed as it suckled at its meal. "Yeah…yeah that's the stuff. Get..right in there."

The palm loosed as fingers climbed over his feet, feeding more of Merkeo inside as its underbelly bulged with his body. With a giddish chuckle, he corkscrewed the rest of his feet inside as the slit closed. Wads of pre rushed into his body as it blinded him of the trip ahead, the muscular tube getting thickening as a suction pulled at his body.

A mere lump cast itself upon the jock's shaft, pulse after pulse dragging him down as it squeezed into the base of the shaft and into his prostate. More seed flooded the tender bean as the valve closed behind him, leaving him at the mercy of the muscular waves as it tenderized his body. He struggled to hold them back, his limbs sinking into their surface as he tried to find a way out. Pressure tugged at his feet, yanking him into the source of the musky fluid as he was dragged through the labyrinth swirling in the Jock's waist.

He held his breath as he was dragged through its loops, before he found him at its ridge as he slid through a long tube. He was deposited inside an enclosed sac, the walls forcing him to lay straight as if he were in an airtight compartment.

"Damn it Fervin, this has gotten way too far!!" he scowled, Worming himself toward the valve that winked out of reach, taunting at his predicament before it vanished behind a fold of seed coated flesh.

His calls were left unanswered, drowned out by the jock's beastly grunts as it reverberated through the walls.

wet slaps came from outside, jostling the testicle as if it were a fish bag. "That's the job..right there!" Fervin huffed louder.

The jock roared as the walls shrank around Merkeo’s body, the valve above him slurping the pool from the chamber as climbed through the tubes. The ceiling spasmed as spurts muffled the walls, Merkeo took the chance to breathe, but shriveled as his lungs filled with the ripe aroma of salt and bodily fluids. He squirmed along the walls to follow the fluid out, but his fingers wouldn't register as the stiff folds pucker in place.

Droplets of the lukewarm substance dripped at his back, and he groaned. "There, you had your little release. Now get me out of this thing!" He paused to hear the outside, the heavy wet thumps shaking the chamber as he swayed in place. "Hey! Are you listening?"

"Oh man..you are a good toy." He muttered, his voice distorted as if he were a broken speaker. "Ah really…good one."

"Yeah yeah, great, now get me out!"

Fervin’s words slowed as they traveled through his body. Gravity flicked as a heavy mass compressed the ceiling. The layer of flesh surrounding the testicle squashed at his torso.. The jock's breath grew heavy, rattling the muscles like rusted gears. He's kidding, he thought to himself, he sends him down his cock and now he's taking a snooze?

"You’re not sleeping with me in here!." He shouted. "Wake your ass up!"

He rattled the sac like an ape in a cage, thrashing himself in the compressed space to disrupt Fervin’s sound slumber. It was only when his knees cushioned into the round testicle did he get a reaction, the jock's body springing to life as a moan howled through the environment. Gravity shifted again, and the flesh barricading the orb pinned him down as the round lump cushioned his face.

He groaned as it tucked him against the corner wall, singing its whale songs of gurgles and churns to its captive audience. "Damn it.."

The hours ticked by since the events of that evening. Fervin tossed in his slumber, snarling from his nostrils as he rocked over the arms of the sofa. He stretched his limbs to scratch himself, but fell backwards as gravity pulled him to the floor. Sunlight erupted from the winder, burning into his eyes like a flashbang as he groggily got up.

He picked himself up from the floor, his balance tumbling to the cushion as he caught himself.. "Fuck what a night, all that partying really tired me out.." He scratched absently at his crotch, warm skin sticking to his fingers as he cocked it back, His barreled cock resting between his legs. “Where the fuck did my shorts go?..”

He stretched before getting up from the couch, giving one last yawn as he fetched a protein shake from the fridge. He looked at his roommates' things, his props scattered along the tabletop as his cotton bed was toppled from the windowsill. The nerd’s already gone, he thought, guess he decided to leave early for spring break. That’s good, he didn’t have to worry about underwear then. He drank at his shake and moved onto his side of the room, kicking his suitcase between his legs. He crumpled his clothes, tossing them inside as a hill slowly formed.

He scratched at himself once more, reminiscing at his fingers touch as his nut flexed over them. But he squinted as he gazed at the round sphere. Something was different about them, his right testicle sagged lower than the other. He fondled beneath its weight as his cock throbbed. It might just be his imagination, he did hold a lot of his seed in there last evening.

"I’m sorry big boy, I got too drunk to enjoy you properly.” He massaged his shaft. “But I bet you got plenty of rest after you had your fun."

"Absolutely not?"

He blinked at the sudden voice, looking at his Cock. He poked at its pudgy surface for a response, but it only throbbed. "Heh..hehe, I must have had way too many shots last night. Thought I just heard my cock talking."

"Not the cock you idiot!" The voice echoed again.

He cocked a brow as he stared at his member, movement rising beneath the sagging right testicle. He scooped his sac into his palm, pinching at the active orb as he rotated it. A squirming lump curled along its edge, a soft imprint appearing before a flex pulled it down.

His palm flung from his ball, letting them swing between his legs as his heart pounded. "What the hell did I drink last night?! My ball's coming alive!"

"No, It's me! Merkeo!"

"Merkeo?" He paused, looking back at the wiggling lump. He poked at its side, a pathetic whimper escaping from it. "It is you, nerd! The hell are you doing in my balls!"

"Take a guess! You shoved me in here on another one of your drunk sprees."

"Drunk spree? I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He said. “As far as I can remember I was alone..then again, there was this talking toy. Don’t remember much but it kept squawking about not being a..toy. Huh, well that explains all the whining.”

“You fucked me into the couch.”

He groaned upon the nerd’s response "Yeah well..you should’ve been more careful. It’s not my fault you’re in there.”

“It literally is!"

"Potato, Potato."

He moved toward the glass mirror along the wall, reaching , putting on his underwear as he got dressed. He pulled the back as the thin fabric saddled his glutes, letting his cock spill over the pouch as he took to his suitcase.

His nuts jangled together like wind chimes, crashing into his thighs. "What are you doing now?"

"What do you think I’m doing? I’m packing for the weekend. I’ve got shit to do back at home, and since you're stuck with me, you'll just have to tag along until we get back."

"What?! I'm not staying in here! DnD is this weekend!" Merkel said, pressure climbed through his epididymis to the valve connecting to the rest of the cock. The right nut sway passively, flexing as the sensation of fingers prodded at the tight folds. "Gotta get..out of this thing!"

The jock snorted at the attempt. "Oh boy, aren't you nerds supposed to be smart or something? My cock doesn't take orders from nerds, it listens to one that has the oomph to shake it. And that's yours truly."

"Then get on with it already."

"You’d love that wouldn’t you? To see yourself ejected from a real cock." he fondled his nuts between his fingers. "Unfortunately I’m still spent. It's gonna be a long while before these babies are ready for another round."

“And how long would that take.”

“Hell if I know, 3 hours or so.” “Three hours?!”

“Yup, so might as well get comfy until I fetch for you.”

He raised his cock over the flap, sealing it inside the pouch as he tied his shorts. He reeled his luggage into the hallway, following the narrow passageway toward the elevator in the crossway. Movement shifted as Merke tried to adjust in the compact space, the bulk of Fervin’s nuts dog piling his lump as it jostled in the pouch of his jockstrap. That nerd really knows how to get under his skin. Literally. Though he'll give him one thing, it felt good to have his balls stimulated, like a hot girl playing with his balls. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. As they closed, he groped at his crotch, humping at the air.

He picked up a soft whimper from beneath the fabric, pressure building at his testicle as soft kneads rested upon it. He still didn’t know how to feel above having the nerd in there,but at least he’ll help filling him up back home..

The ride with Fervin was a long and bumpy trip. Every passing moment was filled with flesh jumbling Merkeo around, marinating him in the little puddle that climbed at his ankles as the testicular wall shriveled and compressed. He didn't know how far they traveled, the outside was too muffled to depth the surrounding environment except for the purrs of jock’s vehicle. After another eternity of stewing in the jock's balls, inertia pulled ahead as his face was wrapped in a sheet of muscle.

His steps boomed as a door creaked open, the sound of a zipper being undone as the sac rolled on its side. "Ah, it's good to be back home." Fervin’s voice distorted through the walls..

Merkeo padded at the soft tissue to get the jock's attention, the testicle spooning into his torso. His palms were pinned by the protruding bulge, only managing to use his ankles as he bucked weakly as the ridge of the testicle.

A heavy thud struck the balls, the soft curvature of fingers pressing at his back. "Eh? oh yeah, forgot you were in there."

Not a surprise. "It's been hours since I've been here. Can you get me out now?"

“I told you that’s not how my nuts work, nerd. They need the energy to get them started.”

“You said you needed three hours!”

Fervin laughed heartily. “I said It’d take me three hours to fill them, I never said I’d be ready to release it.”

The sac shook as its contents plonked around, the seed secreting from the wall spreading out as they washed over Merkeo’s body. His stomach dropped as the fingers let go, the nuts beginning to sway as steps boomed outside. A soft pressure cushion at the walls, tight leather scrunching beneath him.

“Been a while since I checked on the game” Fervin said. “I wonder if my K/D is still intact.”

The jock’s weight shifted as the sac tilted, forcing Merkeo to spoon beneath the rough lump as seed polled at his shoulders. Fervin's voice could be heard beyond the walls, blurting comments as a controller clunked high above. His obnoxious bantering went on for another hour, his balls rocking periodically as a finger scratched at the testicular layer. Merkeo tried again to get him to answer, splashing at the pool of seed that splashed beneath his chin. But he only received a brush from one of the thighs, followed by cursing as he shouted at someone in the game.

Outside the sun loomed past the hill in the window, the crimson sky slowly turning blue as the moon rose from the horizon. Merkeo tilted his neck as he faced the quivering sphincter above, counting its flexes as seed drooled from its lips. It’s all he could do, with his limbs bathed into the milky pool as the muscle flexed in place.

“Fuck yeah!” Fervin’s voice blurted,the testicles thrusting forward before snagged. “Hope you like that grenade yas wuss! That’ll teach ya to steal my kill!”

“Fervin!” Merkeo called out, thrashing against the tender wall. “Fervin!”

The chamber shifted, pressure applying to his back. “What now nerd?”

“Are you ready yet? It’s getting kind of full in here.”

“Hmm..They are kinda heavy…” the pressure behind him pushed at his body, a thrust sending a wave over the little roommate. “And I’m already pumped as it is, why not.”

“Yes! Finally!”

A rumble boomed above, a bubbling torrent shaking the walls as pressure melted behind him. “Shit, I forgot all about dinner. Can’t wank one out on an empty stomach.”

Merkeo swayed as Fervin traversed the household, his steps hardening as it traveled through his body. Wrappers muffled from above as the jock giggled to himself, followed by a meaty crunch as he chewed on his food. He listened to symphony of crumpled wrappers and munching for moments, and still he had yet finished his feast. The fluid climbed higher, dosing his ears as if they dipping sauce.

The walls flexed, and he raced to force them back. “It's getting a little cramped in here, are you ready to release yet?” “Eh? Release what?”

“Your seed!”

“Oh yeah yeah, I’ll get right on it. Just..” an announcer muffled from outside, followed by bells as cheer muttered in the background. “Oo, the playoffs! I forgot that aired today.” He walked over as the sounds came closer, springs creaking beneath him.

“Wait a second, get me out first.”

“Don’t sweat it, it won’t be long. I’ll have you out by halftime, jock’s promise.”

Merkeo groaned at the response, working his limbs close to deter the walls from overtaking the pocket. He didn’t know if he could bear the salty aroma, each whiff was like intaking smelling salt, forcing him to buck at the round testicle that threatened to submerge him without hesitation. Buzzing rang from beneath him as a bubbled climbed into the pocket, his phone emerging from the pool as a notification was plastered upon it.

It was from one of the members, sending a message about the meet for tomorrow. He fiddled a finger toward its direction, its angled edge taping at his fingertips, before a fold greedily dragged it out of sight. He sighed as he faced the wall, thrashing it about to get Fervin’s attention. This time there was no response, all except his goofish giggling as he mocked the game. He couldn’t do anything but wait, tugging into the soggy fold as he closed his eyes.

A few minutes passed as he opened his eyes, once chaotic background softening as snores followed behind it. He was still in his balls, and he was fast asleep. In rage, he thrashed about the chamber to cause discomfort, swiping at the lump at his torso despite how weakly his limbs slipped off.

A roaring ocean filled his ears, as the side of his hear were submerged in milky pool. In shriveled defeat, he closed his eyes, awaiting for the jock to wake up once more. DnD was tomorrow, and he couldn’t stand being trapped in his nuts for a moment more. —-------------------------------------- Throughout the next day, he slept to conserve his energy, listening to Fervin’s wandering as carried out his activities. When waved of seed flowed into his nostrils, he shot awake, kicking the testicle as a jolt shook the walls. A groan escaped from the jock as fingers took to his balls, forcing him to adjust as the chamber tilted it’s side.

“Watch where you’re kicking in there will ya?” Ferman demanded. “These babies are to be treated with care!”

“These babies are a nightmare, I’ve been stewing in here for god now’s how long!”

“Oh please, you barely move in there, it can’t be that bad.” “You’re not the one neck deep in side!” He bent his knees to open more space, driving his feet into the sides of the testicular wall.

Its flesh raced to subdue, contracting its muscle around him like a snake. But he refused to let himself cave under its pressures, prying at the opposite wall.

Fervin’s body twisted. “What are you doing?”

“DnD is tonight, I can’t stay in your balls any longer. And if I have to cause a ruckus, then so be it!”

His body lit ablaze as he took to the lump, kneading into the tender walls as the testicle throbbed beneath its layer. Fervin’s fingers raced to subdue his efforts, but the sac was too full to add enough pressure, Merkeo using it as a shield as battered the walls with his own body.

After moments of struggling, a roar of defeat erupted from Fervin." Fuck it! Fine I’ll get you out.” he announced. “Was getting tired of hauling you around anyway."

The testicles swayed as he wandered outside. It wasn't long before pressure built beneath, the opposite testicle shifting before it dropped off a ledge. The sound of wet slaps returned from above, sending ripples in the chamber as the testicular sac compressed Merkeo's face.

"Ugh, my suit is so ruined, can't you pump faster?"

"Don't get your tidy widdies in bunch ya nerd, I'm almost there."

The walls flexed harder, compressing his feet as he squeezed along the hump like paste in a canister. The valve slowly began to quiver, widening slowly a seed rushed through its mouth. It flowed into its tubes like a pipeline, gulping periodically at the substance as he himself was pulled close to its lips.

Strands of his own hair were plucked between the soggy lips, crowning his head as seed piled his shoulder. But flex ceased as the narrow tube dried up, clamping at his head as seed disappeared into the abyss above. "What the? What's the hold up?"

A muffled ring vibrated the walls, the pounds halting as the jock shifted slowly. "Got a call." Fervin said, answering the device. "Bandi, my boy, what's up? Yeah I’ve been in town, just letting out some steam."

"Hey! Don't stop, keep going!"

"Give me a fucking minute, I'll get there…no no, just talking to a nerd is all I-…wait seriously?! Oh shit, count me in!"

The sac rattled from the jock’s excitement. "What are you doing out there?"

"The boys found a goldmine for some chicks from the cheerleading squad at the university. Looks we're heading to the bar."

"What?! What about me?! You still have to take me out!"

"I'll fetcha ya later, Right now I gotta fetch old faithful from the drawers. I'm gonna catch me a big one tonight"

The chamber thrashed as he braced himself for another tide, the thick goop dragging down his body like syrup. He stretched his limbs to pierce the tender muscle, but pouted at the meat pocket. Unbelievable, he was about to be free from this hellhole before that phone call. He couldn’t bear more of Fervin’s antiques for god knows how, but it appears he didn’t have much choice.. Before he knew it, the chamber moved as steps trailed outside, a door muffling open as the purrs of the truck returned.

And so began the trip to the bar. Voices muffled from the walls as Fervin greeted his friends, softer tones following them as he assumed they were women. His hips gyrating was the confirmation he needed, if not rhythmic throbbing from the shaft.

The minutes felt like an eternity as jazz played from the bar, glasses clanging together as the jock’s obnoxious chattering filled the void. His ears submerged in seed was a mercy compared to listening to the awful pick up lines he spewed from his mouth.

"This is so humiliating." he groaned.

"Hey baby, there's no need to take a seat on these raggedy old chairs, come take a gander at this one" Fervin said, heavy thumps causing the sac to dip.

Pressure ensued as the testicle rolled at his back. His torso sunk like an island landscape, dipping beneath the murky fluid as it climbed to his chin. He struggled beneath the titanic weight above, the thigh outside bouncing as it jostled the chamber..

"Oh my, you make a pretty good seat." A woman's voice said above.

"Oh ho baby, I can do more than just cushion."

"Oh for fuck sake." Merkeo covered his ears, hoping to drown out the conversation.

Another hour drew by as he listened to the oaf's bantering. At one point, chattering dwindled before the nutsack spilled forward, and the crushing weight was relieved. Fervin was on the move, the sounds of the bar growing distant until it became white noise in the background.

He scraped the wall before placing his ear against it, curiosity overwhelming him as he listened to the jock’s steps. The zipper of the pants were undone, and he spilled forward as flesh caught his fall.

"Here they are my dear, my pride and enjoy in all its glory."

"You weren't lying, it certainly is thick."

“He’s with a girl, of course he is.” his side cramp as a lump fondled his back, He squirmed to ease its protrusion, elbowing the testicle as the jock released a grunt.

"Is everything all alright?" The woman asked.

"Oh yeah sure, everything is just fine. Just a little..excited is all." Fervin replied. "Afterall, how can a guy not melt for a hot doll like yourself."

The chamber shook as the lump flattened, seed rushing from the other end like a dam as it splashed into Merkeo. Slow wet pounds filled the void, the testicle compressing before it squashed into his body. A disgruntled moan pierced the air as the sac swayed forward, a dulled edge separating the balls as softer moans echoed ahead..

God, She's sucking him off, as if his problem weren't already wacky enough. He fought the testicle to plug his ears, but its ridge forced them away, allowing the demented display to continuing as it intensified. The pressure returned as digits cupped behind him, thinner than the ones before as their pointy ends prodded his back.

The pool increased as it climbed over his head, a current seeping into the valve as it widened closer. Muscle contraptions echoed beyond the thick walls, glurking as the women's moan grew fierce. The sac pulse, and the valve widened as it guzzled seed to the surface..

"Hope you're thirsty, cause I'm gonna unleash my load inside."

"Like hell you are!" Merkeo blurted, thrashing from the chamber.

The lump prodding at his back vanished beneath murky waves, the balls dropping as they bashed against the jock’s thigh. "Did your balls just talk?!" The woman squealed.

"N..no? Did you hear them talking? I..I didn't hear them talking."

"Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting."

The sound of boots muffled from the outside, growing softer as the chamber thrashed about. "No! Come on babe, Come back!" Fervin called desperately for her, the door slamming shut. A vice grip wrapped the testicle, and Merkeo was smothered into the walls. "Damn it you nerd, you scared her off!"

"I scared her off?! I was nearly protein for her! I'm trying to get out from inside you, not end up in another."

"Well congratulations cause now I'm fucking limp, thanks for that." A bang sounded from outside as the jock began to walk. "Can't believe I got cock blocked by a nerd."

The sac rocked between his legs as the creaking door lingered from overhead, trailing off somewhere behind them as the sound of the roaring crowd returned. Merkeo tucked himself against the corner pocket of the chamber, it was the only place he could manage to breath without intaking the salty seed. He heard the jock's friend talking, reminiscing over the cheerleader storming out of the bar. His response wasn't pleasant, a squeeze smother the eager testicle against his head as if to point the blame upon him. but it relented as he relaxed, his balls drooping at the thigh.

He curled against the opposite wall, before a buzz rumbled from above, his phone squeezing from the compressed fold as it slid in front of him.

a photo appeared from beneath the milky substance, a group photo with his friends dressed in their fictional costumes. Speak of the devil, he thought, here comes the fruits of his labor reminding him of his failed attempt. What he would give to be there right now. He focused on the group photo, admiring the designs each of them chose to wear. but his eyes furrowed as he caught a glimpse of one of the members, his eyes widening.

"No way.."

That late night dragged into Sunday morning, as Fervin drove back into the dorm room as he tossed his backpack. Merkeo eyed the quivering sphincter above as its lips expanded, the walls compress as he catapulted into the tight tube. The ride up was rigid and slow, but fast enough to wipe seed clean from his skin before he squeezed back into the embrace of the jock's prostate. In a firm push he climbed up the urethral tube, skyrocketing into a tupperware container as he collided against the plastic wall.

The jock scorned above, the milky stream pouring faster as he shielded his face. "Alright that's enough!"

"Not yet it's not." Fervin said grumpily.

the stream pushed at his palms, piercing their way through as he slid into the smooth corner, it was only until his palm remained uncovered did it finally stop, and the slit sealed shut.

"Now it's finished” Fervin sneered at his handy work, shaking the drizzle from his cock before turning toward his stuff.

"Hold it!" Merkeo muttered, rising from the gunk. "We're.. we're not done."

"oh we're not huh? and what makes you say that?"

"You cost me the whole weekend! you have to make up for it!"

"Wha?.." the jock burst from laughter. "What are you on about, you're the nerd who got stuck in there in the first place."

"Only because you put me there. and nearly got me swallowed."

He rolled his eyes, fanning at the remark as Merkeo climbed out of the container. In a slippery leap, the little roommate lunged as he clung to the tufts of his jersey. It was like holding onto a moving vehicle, seed soaking his suit fanned to the luggage on the floor. Fervin drew closer to the computer desk, and jumped as he followed him to the tissue box, stomping at its opening as the giant palmed reached for it..

the jock's face soured. " You're really starting to get on my nerves."

"Likewise, but I'm not letting you off the hook. you’re going to pay up, right here, right now."

"Oh you gotta be shitting me." he chuckled. "Fuck it, I'll bite. What? What could a little nerd like you do to force me to pay you back."

He dug into the soggy pouch of his pocket of his suit, taking out his phone. He clicked at the photo, holding it to the air as Fervin's face loomed closer. "This is how!"

"Hah! What more nerds? Get over yourself."

"They may look like mere nerds to you. But one of them I'm sure you know quite well." he zoomed the photo closer, focusing on a woman dressed as a witch. "That lady right there is Cindy, the lead cheerleader of our university. I wonder what she might think if she finds out about our little mishap. I'm sure she'd love to share the adventure with the football captain."

The jock’s eyes widened before narrowing. "You don't have the balls to go through with that."

"Oh yeah? One already think's you have talking balls, I'm sure they can puzzle the rest if I speak up."

The jock growled, reaching a palm as the thick digits twitched in rage. it lunged forward, yanking a tissue from beneath Merkeo’s feet as it crumpled into a withered mess. "What do you have in mind?.."

"Heh."

"It's so good to see you again, Merkeo” Cindy greeted him, lowering a finger as he shook her hand. We missed you last night’s session. You’re wearing your night costume again?”

He scratched at his head, adjusting his cape. "Yeah, the other suit kinda got stuck in a rut. Fashion crisis am I right? But hey, we at least got time to catch up on a session. I even brought a plus one."

Heavy thuds came from the hallway, sharp squeaks lingering as a silhouette peered through the frame. An inflated dragon loomed in, Fervin’s soured face tucked beneath its chin as the rest of the rubbery suit hauled inside, he grumbled as he wrestled his tail inside, bumping it against the door.

"I'm sure you two know each other."

"We sure do.” Cindy said, “I didn't think he took part in DnD."

"You could say he had a change of heart." He replied, sharing glances with Fervin as his fiery gaze overshadowed the derpy expression of the inflatable.

They prepared the table as they all encircled it, Merkeo taking out the dice as many took their roles. scattered the props along the props behind the bordered sheet, he cleared his throat. "Alright ladies and gents, let’s begin. The adventurers set out upon the request of the king, a dragon has been spotted in a cave near the kingdom. You find the entrance and travel through its catacombs. There, surrounded by shimmering gold and diamonds, lay the beast. Sprawled upon its haunches as it snarled at your intrusion.”

Merkeo paused as he scooped the dice in hand, lending them to one of the members dressed as a wizard. “Care to start us off.”

"Oh Oh! I roll to ride the ride dragon"

"Try it and I'll flatten you like a crumpcake, pinhead!" Fervin snarled.

"Ah ah, not without a roll you're not." Merkeo assorted, nodding toward the little wizard.

The wizard squeed as they shook their hands in place, the dice jumbling like ice cubes as they rolled them to the thin sheet crossing the table. both dices toppled themselves, number nine marking the both of them.

"ooo, Nat 18. the wizard casts a construct to cast himself atop the dragon."

The wizard let out a high pitched squeal as They climbed aboard the inflatable forearm. Fervin eyed in disgust as the little one stood atop of him. the googly eyes of the dragon jangled as they clung to one of the ears, pulling it from one side of his body to the other.

the dragon squeaked as it smothered Fervin’s face, his neck jerking from side to side. "Hey! what the-?!"

“Wow, you really are pulling your weight." Merkeo said. I figured you'd make a good dragon.”

"Get them the fuck off me!"

"mm, not how it works. you gotta announce it, then roll."

"Oh for the-" he reached for the dice at the end of the table, fingers denting the barrier as they rattled. "The dragon attempts to throw the nuisance off."

He flung the dice forward, their forms streaking across the table like cannons as they pushed the barrier back. The dice came to a standstill, number one marking them both.

"Ooo two, the dragon failed to throw the wizard off. bummer."

"The hell?! what kind of bullshit is that I-"

"Our rodeo isn't over yet, dragon!" the wizard yelled, heaving at the inflated ears like reins. "Your hide will be a fine reward for my potions!"

"Crushing you is still on the table you damn pest!"

Merkeo watched as the two of them bicker, admiring the jock's flailing as he walked sluggishly against the walls. but he turned his head as Cindy whispered for his attention, lending an ear toward her.

"He seems pretty aggressive for a DnD player, Are you sure he's here to play?" She asked.

He looked toward the two once more, the wizard yanking backward as Fervin pivoted like a horse on a hill. He smiled as he placed a hand on his cheek. "Oh yeah, I'm sure."

#cock vore #giant

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