#⧻ WILL YOU BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS ? ⁄ OPEN.

[yeyinde]

i would give you my life for marriage counselor!reader x price part 3, pleaseeee im begging you 😮‍💨🙏😮‍💨🙏

He fucks you in your office, for sure.

18+. extremely dubious consent. unk. condescending Dom!Price.

Petty, combative. Authority figures make him itch. But there's a sick thrill that goes through him when he sinks down into your chair, fully dressed with just his trousers undone, cock freed, and pulls you, completely naked, onto his lap. Makes you ride him as he sprawls out over it, too; his hand tight around your neck to keep you up, the other dangling over the edge, drinking from the sneaky stash of booze he finds after rummaging around your desk (all the while, he had you sitting on top of it, one hand rifling through your belongings and the other buried between your thighs, making you answer his inane questions as he tuts about how you're getting his cuffs all wet, not such a smart little girl now are you? soakin' his hand like that. needy little thing, more like.)

It's not his preferred position, but he likes the sight of you glaring down at him as he fills you with his cock. Unable to to do anything at all even when you're on top, in the dominant role. Reduced to a mess of a once smart, haughty girl. Biting your lip as he bucks into you. Trying to smother the scream, the plea—slow down, slow down, please, it's too deep—that trembles on your lip. Pride and this fickle, paperthin ideal of agency is the only thing keeping it all in.

You think you can take him. Handle him.

So, John gives you the reigns and leans back on your smart little chair in your smart little office. Accolades hung on the wall. Polished and mature. It's all so—

Adorable.

The contrast of it all feeds the monster in his chest that's been prowling around ever since you tried to boss him around. The mouth that once said you're not trying hard enough, Mr Price you need to do better now all slack-jawed and drool slick as he spears inside to the deepest part of you he can reach; the doleful glare swallowed by the shiver of your lids as your eyes roll back into your pretty little head.

Struggling to take him. Hesitating to slide down the thickest part of his cock, whimpering when he shifts his hips and makes you take him down to the root. Tears flood your lashline, gleaming iridescent like sunshine hitting an oil spill. Lips trembling as you jolt at the realness of it all—of trying to handle him like you said you could but quickly realising you can't when the heart of yourself starts to feel like a raw, open wound.

Yeah, he thinks, and brings the bottle to his lips. You look so much better just like this.

And that's what it's about, really. Control. Something you stripped him of when he marched into your office and you—younger, less experienced, less established—just looked at him, and said, sit down right there, Mr Price.

Well. You didn't say it, did you? No, you commanded. And Price doesn't take orders from idiots in office who think they're his superior, so why the hell should he listen to you, mm?

But he did. And now he's savouring it because this is quid pro quo. Something for something. His compliance (ephemeral as it was) for you.

Because the problem is that you riled him up. With your neat, clean office. Your smart suits. The unbidden air of authority—this condescending, sophisticated cloud that clung to the haughty tip of your chin when you talked to him. It all itched under his skin. Made his heart thunder with the urge to break—

(Claim, maim—sometimes he gets the two mixed up, the word eliding together under the malformed snarl in his throat. But you're tough, aren't you? He's sure you can handle whichever one ends up spilling out.)

He bites down on the little sliver of skin beneath your jaw—that small patch where his hand, still spread over the thick of your throat, doesn't cover—and groans, feeling you clench tight around him. Tight little hole barely stretched enough to take him without it aching each time he moves, tugging on thin, sensitive skin until he has to snuff the whimpers he can feel crawling up your throat with a squeeze of his hand.

It has the after making his head swim already. When he finally finished getting his due, breaking you in, he'll take you home. Let you rest. Court you good and proper until you're melting his hands, softened wax for him to play with and mould however he likes. And he will.

He saw the potential in you the moment he leaned in close—too close, his ex-wife will accuse him of later; you never get that close to me anymore, John—and saw the shift of your throat when you swallowed. The flex of your thighs as you squeezed them tight together. The little flutter of your lashes, eyes listing treacherously downward, so achingly close to submission that it punched the air from his lungs. Kept him winded even as you pulled yourself back together. Meeting his stare with a glare of your own. All fire, all teeth. But he'll enjoy filing your canines down until they're pretty and soft and round—

"mm, not so arrogant now, are you?" He pulls you closer, nips at the thrill of your pulse until he feels it thudding against his enamel. Rabbit-quick. Ferocious lioness purring at his feet. "S'all you needed was my cock, mm, to make you this sweet?"

He doesn't expect an answer, and can really only groan when you eke out a liquid, breathless, fuck you, John, content to let you lash out as much as you want, holding you tighter in the cup of his palm. Pussy clenching tight, tears dripping down your cheeks—he basks in it even as you claw at him, pawing at his chest with your teeth bared as you pretend this is your choice. That you're taking from him with each unsteady, furious roll of your hips. Pulling him in deeper. Letting the part inside of you that rages against this hew fantasy into reality; cobwebs of delusion thickening in the whites of your eyes as you shatter over him, on his lap, stuffed full with the thick of his cock, and play pretend in your head that he's just your throne—

Even as he kicks his heels against the legs of your own, planting his feet on your carpet, in this space you build yourself, driving inside of you until the webs shake, starting to come loose.

You—this free, willful bird—have been left in the wild for too long. And he'll spend the next two months building your cage, and when he's finally finished, you'll beg him to throw away the key.

"Told you, didn't I?" he growls, hand tightening around your throat. "You were in over your head, little girl. You should have listened."

(Freshly divorced—ink still wet on the paper—and he's already engaged. How about that.)

[fruitjoos]

pov: you’re sick and boyfriend patrick comes to save the day

note: literally need this right now. i hate being sick :( !!! where’s my patrick zweig ugh!!!

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

Patrick didn’t even knock when he arrived at your apartment. The lock clicked open, and you stirred from your cocoon of blankets on the couch. You barely registered the familiar sound of his raggedy sneakers against the floor until the scent of his cologne reached you.

“Patrick?” you croaked, your voice raspy and weak.

“In the flesh,” he said softly, setting down a backpack and shrugging off his coat. “Heard you weren’t feeling so great and figured you needed backup.”

You blinked at him, your fevered brain struggling to process. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Stanford?”

Patrick rolled his eyes lightly, already heading toward your tiny kitchen. “Yeah, and?” he teased, placing a green tin of your favorite chamomile lavender tea on the counter. “What was I gonna do, stay there knowing you’re over here coughing your lungs out?”

From the bag, he pulled out a neatly wrapped loaf of lemon drizzle cake. Your favorite, the kind with the sugary glaze that cracked perfectly, and a small container of fresh raspberries. “You’re a tea and cake kind of sick person,” he remarked, holding them up with a soft grin.

“You came all this way,” you murmured, half in awe, “for tea and cake?”

“For you,” he corrected, setting the kettle on. “Now hush. Let me work my magic.”

Minutes later, he was perched on the edge of the couch, holding a steaming mug up for you like it was an offering. “Drink,” he said gently, his other hand brushing back the hair clinging to your damp forehead. “You’ll feel better.”

The tea was warm and soothing against your sore throat, and you let out a quiet sigh, leaning into him without thinking. Patrick chuckled, tucking the blanket tighter around you. “You’re really leaning into the damsel act, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered weakly, the tea shaking in your hands.

“Not a chance,” he teased, but his voice carried only tenderness. He took the mug from you once you’d had enough and swapped it for a small plate of cake. “Think you can manage this, or do I need to feed it to you?”

A small laugh slipped out of you, and Patrick grinned. “There’s the sound I’ve been waiting for,” he said, sitting back beside you.

After you managed a few bites, he eased himself onto the couch, shifting so you could rest your head against his chest. His arms wrapped around you carefully, pulling you closer. “Alright, you’ve got your tea, your snacks. Now it’s cuddle time,” he murmured, his voice a soothing hum against your hair.

The steady rhythm of his breathing began to lull you into a drowsy haze. His fingers trailed soft, aimless patterns along your arm, and every so often, he’d press a kiss to your temple or the top of your head.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Of course I did,” Patrick whispered, holding you tighter. “You think I’d let you deal with this on your own?”

You didn’t respond, already half asleep, but your hand instinctively tightened on his sweater. Patrick smiled down at you, his voice barely audible as he added, “Get some rest. I’m here for as long as you need me.”

[spooky-goose1003]

Long Day

Pairing: Gn!reader x idol!woozi

Word count: 582

Content: fluff, more fluff, domestic Woozi, so so sweet and rahh

Notes: Woozi likes your hands, so down bad and in love

A/n: hi!! This is my first time posting a lil story on here! It’s also my first time writing anything in a while. I hope you enjoy!:) and happy birthday Woozi!! <33

.•*•.•*•.•*•. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── .•*•.•*•.

“Baby!” You call, as you walk inside the apartment. You hear no reply, which probably means your boyfriend, Woozi, isn’t home yet. You go to his studio room in your shared apartment, and it’s empty. “Ah,” you mumble to yourself. “He went into work today.”

You quickly shower and change into some comfier clothes and got take a spot on the couch, turning on some TV while you wait for Woozi to get back home. A while later, once you hear the door open, you crane your head to see your boyfriend, who looks a little more tired than normal. Seeing him give you a tired smile, you get up off the couch and walk to him. “Hello my love,” you say softly.

“Hi…” he murmurs, leaning forward to rest against you.

“Long day?” You ask. He nods in confirmation, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Let’s have a night in, okay?” You say softly. “We can get some takeout and come back and watch that new movie you’ve been telling me about.”

“Sounds good,” He murmurs against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there, before pulling away to kiss your hand.

“I’ll drive,” you smile. You grab his backpack and hang it up, before grabbing the keys and heading out the door with him.

As you get in and start driving, he absentmindedly grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles, joints, the pads of your fingers. In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve noticed he’s always seemed to love your hands, holding them, playing with them, kissing them whenever he can get the chance. It’s one of your favorite things, the way he always plays with them, it never fails to make your heart race.

When you arrive, even though you drove, he makes sure to get out first, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, a small smile on his face as he does so. You chuckle and kiss his cheek in thanks, as you lock the car and walk inside.

There’s another one of his habits, as you stand in line, his hand rests on the small of your back, eventually drifting to your butt. It’s nothing sexual, his hand just naturally rests there, eventually coming to wrap his arms around you from behind, his fingers intertwining with yours. When you try to pay, he swats your hand away and hands the cashier his card. You’re crazy if you think he’ll ever let you pay for anything in this relationship.

He drives back home once you get the food, once again resuming his habit of playing with your hand and fingers while he drives, gently squeezing your hand and tracing small shapes on your palm. Watching him play with your hand makes you smile, it gives you butterflies each time, that small habit of his. It’s a tender thing, really. Your touch tends to keep him grounded, a solid reminder that the love of his life is really here, and with him in that moment.

When you’re inside, you both take turns feeding each other, sneaking kisses between bites, and quips about the movie you’re watching. It’s the small moments of intimacy and love that keep your relationship healthy and strong.

Once the night ends and you head to bed, your head rests on his chest, your limbs entangled. He looks down at you as your breathing gets deeper, a small smile gracing his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, while he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, making sure you fall asleep first.

Once he sees you’re finally asleep, he closes his eyes, continuing to rub circles on your hand. “I love you, more than anything,” he murmurs, as he falls asleep. He holds you, feeling safe in knowing that he has nothing to worry about, while his heart and home is soundly asleep in his arms.

[gladiatorcunt]

- ALLIGATOR BITES NEVER HEAL !

a swamp for each chamber of my heart

tags: eventual pregnancy but it’s an overall theme, rafebarry centric, transmasc!rafe (anatomy terms: pussy, cunt, cock, hole, tits), mention of top surgery scars, barry calling rafe a dog, degradation, ambiguous ending, dead dove do not eat, messing with the s4 timeline, pregnant!sarah, established rafebarry(fem)reader, mentioned past rafe x jj, mentioned past drug use, implied incest if you squint, possible eventual kidnapping, cheating (on sofia), title from doechii (subtitle from me), consensual but not safe or sane

please do not copy, translate, or feed this work to ai

note: unedited, fresh out out a rut. this is for like 4 people <3333

As if trailing behind his pregnant sister in the sands of Morocco going after more stupid treasure wasn’t bad enough, Rafe’s been feeling on the verge of throwing up for the past week. Ever since he made Barry bend him over the dock and fuck his pussy raw before taking the boat, actually.

He’d missed being high, and had only come to him for the boat at first. Then the sun bounced off his tacky sunglasses and his gold tooth, next thing Rafe knows he’s squirting into the open water below. There was the usual foreplay, biting words meant to goad him into getting his shit rocked. Glares that would eventually turn into glassy eyed vacant stares.

His favorite times are when he gets nose bleeds and a little red trail gushes from his face to drip down between Barry’s hairy balls.

Barry didn’t say anything about not using a condom, or checking to make sure Rafe had his birth control, he’s not the kinda guy that’s gonna pass up on creampieing a brat’s sloppy pussy.

Call it a desperate attempt to baby trap the only family either of y’all have left, if you’re not already pregnant yourself. Barry wonders when Rafe’s gonna circle around to that possibility, but he can wait, because he knows that once his dog catches your scent, there’s only so much time you can spend running.

It’s a small island, a lot of water you could drown in if you get the mind to wander off on your own and get caught in a trap. Maybe someone really does smell different when they’ve got a bun in the oven.

He was even more on edge because you weren’t talking to him or Barry, nah, you thought you were better than them or something and wanted to distance yourself from the treasure hunt mess. Which would be understandable if he wasn’t involved, but he is so you just need to get the fuck over it. Sofia’s just a cover, she’ll outlive her usefulness when Rafe stops being a coward.

Getting stabbed deep in his guts always feels better when you’re there to love on him, sucking his tits and softly pecking all over his face while he cries and gets snot all over in your hair. Barry likes it better that way too, his bitches playing together like the cute lil’ puppies he knows they can be.

So Rafe hobbles onto the boat with cum dripping down his legs and sets off, his mind fractured in a million different pieces, if he tried to put them together he knows the picture they’d make. One that gives him the same weird feeling that he’d get seeing Rose pin wooden ‘Live Laugh Love’ signs to the walls.

When he goes to bed that night, he replays every moment, every movement of Barry’s tongue as he spoke.

“Captain Barry at your service.”

Rafe grunts and rolls over in the rickety bed, cringing as the springs in the mattress groan under his weight. He snakes a hand into his pajama pants, fingers searching for his cock and flicking it. He wishes you were there to suck on it and slide your fingers into his hole, shushing him when he whines that it’s too much because you both know that Barry’s beat his pussy up more than you ever could.

He whimpers into his pillow, caressing his folds and squeezing his meaty thighs together. It’s always easier to reminisce when Barry’s rough, he has bruises and bite marks and cuts to trace and kill himself over and over in. When he’d left, Barry had held him so close that Rafe wasn’t sure that their bodies had ever been apart before then. Sticky wet heat against his groaning back, cauterizing the wounds that he doesn’t remember carrying anymore, the emptiness that outweighs the ache in his cunt.

“Shh.” Barry teased, digging his chin into Rafe’s shoulder, pummeling his fingers into the clutch of his sopping wet hole as he humped his ass. “You keep sayin’ you wanna act tough but you can’t even take being treated like a slut, you’re lucky i like seein’ you cry so much.”

He likes kissing it better afterwards too though, when Rafe’s far gone enough to be malleable and suggestible, pliant and turned in the direction of a better daddy. Barry’ll even make sure he has a sibling too, one that Rafe can’t ever disappoint because you already know where each of his cavities are and you dig into them, kiss after kiss.

“Think you’re gonna know what’s good for you when you can’t run off no more?”

He’s being cleaved open, Barry’s digging through his organs and throwing away the bits and pieces that don’t suit him anymore.

“Ngh- Please, i’m sorry- hurts, keep going, fuck-“ He was dripping onto the dock, mouth in an ‘O’ shape, a warm arm in between his thighs, it’s not enough anymore.

He needs to be bleeding, about to vomit, chunks of his arms and shoulders gnawed at.

Then when his pussy clenched and he was almost there, he’s empty again. The absence of something filling him lasted all of ten seconds until Barry shoved his cock in to replace his fingers, plugging him up. Rafe jerked and choked on his own spit, his eyes shot up to catch the shimmer in the water as the sunlight hit, nearly time for it to set.

Barry brought a hand up to play with his chest, “These tits are gonna get so full, baby boy, our girl and I are always gonna have to drain you dry when they get sore, huh?”

Rafe’s eyes rolled back on a moan, letting Barry’s thrusts send shockwaves up his body, jostling his flesh and causing slight jiggles. His tits already feel like hell all the damn time, Barry’s rough hands smack them around so often it feels weird when they’re left alone. He was gushing around the cock inside him, regretfully easing the slide.

“Yeah,” Barry gritted out as he sped up, clamping one sweaty hand around his throat and the other in the dip where his thigh melted into his hip. “Don’t need no ideas in your stupid fuckin’ head about being hot shit, just need a baby. Babies for my babies.”

Rafe couldn’t do shit but nod eagerly as he took it, awkwardly bent over, one misstep away from going in the water and half in pain but he’d never been this fucking wet in his life. Not with Topper, not with Kelce, not with Sofia, not with that bitch JJ (which was the only time someone has made him bleed more than Barry), not with-

He squeezed his eyes shut, replacing that one with the man who abuses his puffy pussy better. Barry clicked his tongue and took the hand on his hip off, stuffing those fingers down Rafe’s throat, he couldn’t afford letting Rafe set up another house in his own head, as inhospitable as it is.

Rafe moaned gratefully, filled from both ends and forced to quiet down how he secretly likes. He kept his hands off his cock which made Barry generous enough to touch it for him, rubbing tight circles on it as he tried to push his cock deeper into him, wanting to kiss his cervix and power through.

“Be a good bitch and come back, and we’ll go after her, yeah? Gonna bring her ass back so you’re not self concious when you start showin’ and shit-“ Barry cut himself off, holding Rafe’s throat so tight the other man chokes as Barry’s jizz flooded his used pussy.

“Yes, yes, want her, want to watch you knock her up too, oh my fucking god.” Rafe yelled and came again, or maybe it was the first time, he didn’t really remember so many dragonflies were buzzin’ in his skull. “Baby. Baby. Baby. Baby.”

Barry made him stay in that position even when his orgasm happened later, making sure his cum could slosh around in his womb and create a cute lil’ baby. Bastard’s probably gonna be the most bloodthirsty infant in the hospital that day, but Barry sure hoped so, he knew damn well who he’d be locking down in every kinda way after all. Marriage vows don’t gotta be on paper to be binding in his humble opinion.

He got that across well enough, stroking his thumbs across Rafe’s top surgery scars when he tied him up on the boat. Petted his hair too because it’s just something he gets the itch to do on occasion, and bent Rafe’s legs far enough to fit his head between so he could bully his cock next. Barry slurped up the custom mix of his and his dog’s cum, groaning, bone deep and raggedly like hot coals were being stroked over his ribs. Making hollow melodic sounds, like windchimes with none of those fancy dangly bits attached.

“I know I can’t say shit about not killing, not anythin’ that would do any fuckin’ good, but watch it.” Barry said and fixed Rafe with a look that added a million different things to the conversation, more loose ends.

“This isn’t about that shit this time, I guess, I don't know. Whatever, all I give a fuck about is the treasure.”

“Don’t I know it. Well, maybe you’ll come back with coke dick again, maybe not. Just fuckin’ be a good bitch and come the fuck back, is all i’m sayin’. You get me?”

“Shit, yeah I get you, alright?”

“Don’t be a stranger, I don’t got nearly enough good quality chains for both you and her.”

His cock twitched and his mound almost throbbed down to the nerve endings at the image, but they both knew Rafe isn’t necessarily the stray dog to really worry about finding its way home. Rafe guessed he could sit on your face to calm you down if you end up actually needing the iron restraints, being smothered always helped settle him back into a stable mood, or uh, stable-ish. Several swipes of his cock through your taste buds and a few jabs at his puckered asshole and you’d be back to normal!

More sand blows in as Rafe plucks his nipples with his free hand, whining because it doesn’t feel the same, his touch isn’t mean enough like Barry’s or condescending enough like yours. He’s pathetic, sniffling into his shoulder and curling his fingers into his pussy, jackhammering away until he feels something other than loneliness. He really fuckin’ hopes Barry’s cum takes, not that he won’t immediately be back like a son who forgives his father, Rafe just wants a family.

He wants his belly to swell, ribbons gently tied around his wrists as you sink down on his wet strap, your belly just as round. Barry’d sit on the edge of the bed and watch you writhe against each other, both of y’all too knee deep into bottom behavior to do much more than hump and cry. He’d lean in, act like he’s gonna kiss ya, then laugh right in your face as he pulls back, only to give it y’all for real when you and Rafe get that same murdery look on your faces.

You have way too similar ones, probably Barry’s fault, but he reeled y’all in and let the hooks in your mouths stay there until they rusted, stuck.

He wants to whine and moan about how sore his tits are, to hear you and Barry coo meanly and take care of it. He wants to know that no matter what happens, there will always be this red string woven between the three of you, doused in gasoline and frayed at both edges but it’s there and like hell will Rafe just let either of you cut it loose. It’s the uncertainty of knowing if Barry will even be around when he gets back that makes him cum, spurting a sad little couple gulp’s worth of watery white fluid.

His hefty thighs bulge around his arm, keeping his hand down so far inside, he resolves to fall asleep filled like that even if he’ll be so uncomfortable he’d rather hop on JJ again to distract from the pain.

Barry forgot to tuck his plugs in his pockets for him so he didn’t think to bring them himself.

[philistiniphagottini]

*slams door open and trips* CAMEYLLA AND NUMBER 15 PLEASE I AM BEGGING OTL

Cameylla plus your writing? I'll be so fed😩💕

- noodle

Thank you thank you for indulging me and for the kind words. I really appreciate that you are willing to feed into the brain rot I have for this woman. Hope you enjoy, comments and reblogs appreciated <3

Camellya + Tribbing

cw. smut, tribbing, wlw, light bondage, wet & messy, squirting, female reader, chubby reader, minors DO NOT interact

"You're so sweet…I'm almost blushing."

Camellya cooed down at you as you squirmed beneath her, twisting between the sweat soaked sheets so exquisitely. The vines twisting around your body coiled tighter, sinking into your plump skin and squeezing possessively as moan bubbled up your throat. Your soused lashes fluttered wildly over your burning cheeks, heat prickling the base of your spine and pooling into the pit of your stomach with each passing moment. Camellya tilted her head, her dazed eyes shimmering with sick, twisted adoration as she squeezed your fat tits into the palms of her hands. She cooed softly as you whined from her searing touch, the wet seam of your dripping pussy pulsing as your heart threatened to leap out of your throat. She plucked the rosy tips of your nipples between her delicate fingers, sharp nails biting at your skin as you squirmed. The sight made her giddy with giggles as the vines around your body squished into your chubby body harder, the soft pudge spilling as your pleasantly plump skin was so lovingly constricted..

"Darling~" she hummed, her heady voice almost song-like. "The more you squirm, the tighter they will get~"

You struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth long enough to form a coherent response, a dry wheeze of air breezing past your kiss swollen lips as your head spun in a tizzy. Your ears burned red hot at the sound of Camellya’s pretty little pussy smashing into the puffy lips of your fat cunt, the slick sound echoing off the walls of your stuffy bedroom as your wavering voice joined the cacophony of debauched noises. Beads of her arousal dripped through the bedewed folds of your own, messy cunt, your weeping hole fluttering and clenching around nothing as flames of pleasure lapped at your fraying nerves. The hot knot in your belly twisted tighter as Camellya continued to indulge herself in your sumptuous body, greedy hands pawing at your pliant body as you melted into a warm, puddle of goo beneath her addictive touch. Her joyous voice continued to fill your ears as she moved atop of you, grinding into your needy pussy as pearls of your arousal dripped down the quaking insides of your plush thighs. 

"What’s wrong darling?" Camellya cooed playfully. "Speechless? Or are you just pleasing me by giving me your sweet moans that I hold so dear?"

She rubbed her hands along the soft plains of your body, feeling your skin quiver under her touch as the hairs on the nape of your neck prickled to attention. Goosebumps erupted along your skin despite how hotly your blood was simmering in your veins, the aching nub of your clit kicking weakly as Camellya pressed her own, hot little button into the tightly packed bundle of nerves. A rush of slick spilling from your core made Camellya’s pussy glide so seamlessly against your own, the pretty pearl of her clit shimmering underneath the warm flicker of candlelight as her soft pants accompanied your own cries of ecstasy. You could feel yourself stumbling closer to the edge of the crumbling precipice, your fingers numb as they weaved between Camellya’s vines and held on so you could keep yourself ground to this reality. You choked on a hiccup of pleasure as Camellya pushed one of your thick thighs higher over her slim waist, letting her grind into you at a better angle as you started to shake along with the trembling bed frame. 

Camellya chuckled, her rough pants almost curling around her spit-soaked lips like wisps of steam as her lidded gaze grew heavier, your heavenly body swimming in her eyes as she squeezed your love handles so hard it was enough to leave behind marks. A bolt of electricity crackled along the notches of your spine as she bumped the swollen nub of her clit harder into your own, slick pearl, the soft bud flushing from her unyielding attention as the pressure spiked rapidly in your clenching belly. The edges of your sanity were starting to fray as pressure built and built, wisps of your pubic hair drenched in pearls of arousal as Camellya’s hungry cunt drooled all over you and left behind a trail of slick. Your voice scratched your parched throat as Camellya’s fingers danced along your torso, walking down your soft stomach and caressing the various stretch marks etched into your skin as she toyed with your chub. 

"Does my pretty little flower want to cum now? Hm? Should I make you cum?" Camellya asked in a cloyingly sweet tone that warmed your hoarse throat.

You nodded along dumbly to her words, a constellation of tears clinging to the edges of your heavy lashes. "Yes" you croaked, a wet sob cracking your voice as you cried out. 

A sickening smile cracked her mouth as her tongue peaked out between the bruised seam of her lips, flickering over the swollen skin as she savoured the flavour of desperation that rolled along the muscle. Her eyes were now wild with glee, suddenly gaining clarity in her final moments of bliss before the world came tumbling down around her. Her thrusts were erratic, the cant of her hips shaking as her mound squished into your chubby pussy as the waves of her pleasure rush ran rampant through her system. You rocked your hips forward, desperate to meet her sloppy thrusts as the searing, white hot rapture flooded your veins with relief, the coil in your stomach shattered into a million, tiny pieces. Pearls of your orgasm webbed between your joined pussies, your slick combining and mixing into a messy concoction of translucent threads. 

The vines around your body went slack as Camellya collapsed on top of you, your arms scrambling to reach for her as you wrapped them around her in a secure embrace. Her shoulders were shaking with mirth as her light giggles puffed against your clammy skin, her smile reaching her eyes when she finally looked up at you. 

"Heh, my head feels dizzy" she laughed. "Do you feel it too?"

You slowly nodded your head and hummed, keeping your movements measured in case you accidentally rattled your brain too hard and it fell out of your ears. You felt just as blissfully dizzy as she did, your heart only soothed once you felt the tender caress of her lips on your skin as she wrapped her arms around your plump waist. She stuffed her face between the scorching valley of your supple tits, rubbing her cheeks between such pillowy softness as she started to idly kick her feet in the air. 

"Hmmm I love playing with you" she cooed. "Wanna do it again?~"

[xzombiegirl]

❥ “heres my reward for you,baby.“ - a sienna shaw x fem!reader oneshot SMUT!!

pairing: sienna shaw x fem!reader smut

summary: sienna does martial arts, she usually comes home with injuries. your obviously her own personal nurse as you always treat her wounds, sienna gives you a reward for always helping her.

tags: fem!reader, mention of blood,fluff, wlw, romance, sienna shaw smut, wlw sex, explicit language, no art in this!, not canon tbh, oneshot.

warnings!: mentions of blood, explicit language, making out, sex, fingering, cunnilingus, pet names (baby & sweetheart.)

a/n: so this is my first proper fic!! so im sorry if its bad lol, i’ve been so obsessed with sienna/lauren lately & there needs to be more fics of her! so im here to feed that. feel free to give me requests!! buh-bye 😙

♡︎♡︎♡︎.

❥ 𝟗:𝟑𝟖𝐩𝐦 ..

You sigh as you pull yourself out of the comfortable position you were in, to be ready for when Sienna came home. Every day since she started martial arts again, she’d come home with injures and cuts from her practices and tournaments. Your phone starts buzzing, lit up with Sienna’s name on the screen along with a selfie she took before you guys started dating.

“hello?”

“hi, open the door idiot.”

Rolling your eyes, you place your your phone down and walk towards the front door. When you open the door, obviously Sienna had another injury.

“seriously sienna?” Sienna chuckles and slips past you as you shut the door, “not my fault, im just too good!” ,she flirtatiously says as she points towards the table with the bandages and other essentials in a little wooden basket. “ugh.. well who else is going to do it.”

Sienna carries the basket towards the leather couch and ties up her hair, a wound just above her eyebrow not too deep but still bloody, and bruised knuckles. “how do you even get this bad?”, you say as you dab disinfectant on her wound, wincing sienna gently says, “come to my practice next time.. then you’ll see.” After you plaster up her wound and clean her graze, you get up to place the bandages back but Sienna grabs your thigh. “sit back down, i want to show you how much i appreciate you doing this for me all the time..”

Sienna grazes her warm hands from your jaw to your chest and attaches her soft lips to your neck, sucking and biting on your sweet spots. Moaning softly, you caress your fingers down her back, “Sienna..”. Sienna licks up your chest to your lips and roughly kisses you, both fighting for dominance (sienna obviously won). While roughly kissing you sienna lays you on your back and undos your sweatpants, you lift your hips to help her and she pulls down your sweatpants along with your panties (😭) and throws them god knows where.

“heres my reward for you baby” ,Sienna crawls down to place her head between your legs, her being the tease she is, she nibbles on the inside of your thighs to get you worked up for her.

“seriously sienna! stop teasing!”, with a small kiss to your thighs sienna licks a long stripe up your pussy and begins to makeout with your pussy like shes never eaten it before. As you were moaning Sienna’s name ocer and over again like a prayer, you grip Sienna’s hair making her head burn but she didnt give a fuck. Sienna takes her head away from your heat leaving you whimpering from the loss, but replaces it with two of her long fingers.

“f-fuck.. im so close!”

This was her que to attach her mouth back to your needy pussy and sucking on your clit just right while pushing her fingers in and out at a fast pace. Your breathing starts getting faster and Sienna knows your about to cum so she curls her fingers and rubs your clit with her thumb slow, as she plunges her tounge inside your hole. “oh my- fuck! sienna”, you cum all over her tounge as she laps it up. She raises her head to your lips, kissing you and tasting yourself on her tounge.

“want to do this after everytime you help me, sweetheart?”

a/n: god idek if this is good im just so obsessed with sienna ugh shes so hot 😢, but pls send in requests!! for anyone, idc who <3. feel free to dm me or send them in! love every reblog or like on my posts, love ya!

[cold-neon-ocean]

belligerent

[faaun]

we sang in the aeroplane over the sea tgth ☆

[lurxof--thxmaw]

🎵

Send “🎵“ and I’ll reply with a song that’s related to my muse and I’ll explain why

ON ANOTHER OCEAN － Fleeting Foxes

Oh, this song. This song is so Lady and Six core. This is the song that inspired Seafarers ((although the fic is named after another beautiful song that always makes me think of them as well)) and my go-to when I need to get into that Six & Lady feel. If I had to pick a song to make a LN animatic to, it'd be this one.

The context of the song itself relates to various themes. Running away from responsabilities, the struggles that come with opening up to new people, not trusting anyone, being afraid of judgement -- so on. It also has tons of very nice eye imagery. It's a beautifully written and executed song, I beg you to go listen to it and then come back to this post.

I interpret the first half of the song to be applicable to both of them, with lines such as 《 Biding your time on another ocean, falling into line in the cold and dim 》 reminding me of the Maw and them both adhering to their respective roles in its sustainance. "Biding your time" is an expression I particularly love because it means waiting for something: the Lady waiting for Six to come find her. That's what the ticking clock in her room is, at the end of the day, isn't it? In the context of Seafarers, I named the first chapter after this line because the Lady is waiting for Six to kill her -- which eventually doesn't end up happening.

^^ ((《 Was [s]he not quite as you had conceived [her]? 》; this line will also apply to Six later on, when she realizes that the Lady is much closer to her in nature than she is to the other monsters and it deeply unnerves her. 《 Did the colors of the light hide the fire in the eyes? 》 also applies to this context as the Lady did not expect Six to rebel to the cycle [and later on to her] and gets angry at her for it. During the same instance, Six also finds herself afraid of the Lady's sudden display of emotion because up to a few seconds ago, the Lady was going to give up, but now she -- much like her -- is reactig driven by survival instinct. Most importantly, this is the first time Six sees a slither of humanity in an adult and the fact that it's so close to her own, again, destabilises her. Everything they do is completely unexpected for the other and as much as they wish it was incomprehensible, they always find points that ties them to the other and it stings.))

The two lines preceeding the chorus, 《 Wherever you run, you see all you leave behind you/you see only eyes behind you 》 is again applicable to both of them, and how they literally and figuratively cut their pasts away from their current selves, and yet it always finds a way to catch up to them one way or another. And of course, the more literal eyes they live under, always watching them.

The titular "other ocean" in this context is each other. They are the other ocean the other can't seem to open up to. Something that is so foreign and yet so familiar.

The second verse of the song is more easily divided into Lady and Six bits. I see it as a conversation between each other and reflections on themselves. The first verse is VERY Lady talking to Six as it states:

《 So, do you think the smoke won't enfold you? 》, referring of course to the ending of LN I, but also to the fate that has bestowed the Lady and the ones before her. To the madame, Six's refusal to go through with her fate is the uncomfortable demonstration that she too had that same power. And instead she just chose to follow it because it was easier. The Lady wouldn't give up her position for anything in the world, but even then, this freedom Six has makes her incredibly angry. She is convinced that eventually all this will catch up go Six. It continues with, 《 Or there'll be someone waiting for you, out in the distance then? 》, which is meant to be a derision as the Lady and Six both know that there is no one and nothing waiting for Six off the Maw. No place can ever provide the comfort and safety the Maw does. Whatever is out there will be infinitely worse. There is no certainty, no guarantee that she will live: nothing at all. Six is completely alone and defenseless anywhere that is not the Maw.

The next verse is from Six's perspective. It is a plead, sort of, but also an acknowledgement.

《 If only anything could change you.》 This line resonated very strongly with me while writing because I think it encapsulates the feeling of "child acting like an adult and adult acting like a child" perfectly. In the context of Seafarers, the Lady is essentially throwing a very elegant tantrum. On the other hand, Six is reflecting. Her plan is to escape the Maw, yes, and to do that she needs to study a way out. Doing so causes her to inevitably come to "know" the Lady and, while their similarities cause her to be incredibly uncomfortable and upset, it also creates an inexplicable feeling of kinship.

Wanting to be understood is human. And Six is a nine year old girl who has lived through the unimaginable. None of her peers has gone through what she has. But the Lady did. Out of everyone, she is the only one who could ever understand Six. If only they could see eye to eye. Six is young, she doesn't know how to put this feeling to words and even if she did, she doesn't want to admit it as she knows it will be immediately rejected: it's frustrating as it is sad. 《 If only you knew what you claim to, if only every sign you cling to -- if only they were so. 》

I find the 《 And I won't bleed out if I know me 》 line to be incredibly Ladycore because... the Lady doesn't know herself. And she will bleed out eventually because of it.

The 《 Don't deny me! 》 comes from both ends. Six asks for the Lady to not deny her (by extension, her own past self she sees in her, as well as the yellow raincoat they both used to share), and the Lady orders Six not to deny their shared fate and the legacy of the Lady of the Maw.

The 《 I will lead it in the morning, I won't even if I know it 》 is Six eventually trying to come to terms with her future once the Lady is gone. A part of her has been irrequivocably changed from the experience (( 《 You [Six] ended up too strained 》 )) but it doesn't change the fact that she doesn't want to be on the Maw. She doesn't want to be the next Lady. Even if she was to try like her predecessor tried to manipulate her into, she would still crave freedom. She would always look for somewhere else to go.

On one hand, she has her duties and responsibilities towards the children of the Maw; on the other, herself. She has to let go of one to let the other survive. And suddenly she is in the Lady's shoes, back when she was still named Five. The intentions of the two are very different though: while Six wants to look out for her peers, Five only cared about her own protection. But the outcome might still be the same; at the end of her journey, Six might no longer be Six.

《 We're in the eye sometimes. Too young... too young... 》

[hvbris]

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 - 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 mutuals only

“I’m just gonna stay angry. I find that relaxes me.”  

[whereserpentswalk]

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the Wife at First Sight series)

In Ghost’s eyes, the first time you smiled up at him was the moment you became his and his alone.

So what if everyone apart from you knew it?

Didn’t make it any less of a fact, as far as he was concerned.

Still though, he wanted to learn more about just who his pretty little wife was, including anything that might make letting you know about your marriage a little easier. And so like the good soldier he is, he goes about it as though it were a reconnaissance mission.

He asks you how you take your coffees and teas, holding his breath as he watches you take the first sip of whichever drink he’s made you that day, pride swelling in his chest when you tell him it’s perfect, even better than when you make it.

The first time he’d done so, your eyes widened in surprise when he put his large, gloved hands over yours where they were wrapped around the mug, leaning forward and bringing the rim to his lips where he took a sip for himself, eyes locked with yours. You were unsure of what to think or say, but he apparently decided for you that this was okay, returning the warm drink to your mouth where he encouraged you to take another sip.

You figured that it was alright, he did make the tea for you after all, right?

You even laughed when he started only serving you in a mug with ‘Mrs.’ printed across the side, certain that it hadn’t been in any of the common room’s cupboards before.

He eyes the book peeking out of your bag one morning as you tuck it away, purchasing his own copy the very same day, curious to know what you like reading. You’re pleasantly surprised, if not a tad confused, when you find the next two books in the trilogy sat atop your desk soon after, a small note written in chicken scratch lain on top reads ‘To : Wife’. He’ll make a point of commenting on the novel if he sees you holding it, slipping in tid bits of information to impress you show he’s read it as well, likes the same things you like.

He’ll joke about how the food on the dining hall is always subpar, trying to casually find out what you like eating, subtly pulling out his phone and typing anything new into his notes app where he’s been keeping track of all your likes and dislikes. He just wants to get things right with you, be good for you, prove he can be the husband you need. You’re already perfect in his eyes, his sweet little soulmate who just doesn’t know it yet.

Though this was the first military base you’d ever worked on, you couldn’t recall anyone having ever warned you about the way Lieutenants apparently like to haze the new hires, never mind the fact that everyone else was apparently in on it.

No one bats an eye when you go to take the empty seat next to him in a briefing, and he wraps his strong arms around you to instead plop you down onto his muscular thighs, carrying on with the task at hand as though this is perfectly normal and professional. Even the Captain hardly glances at the interaction, so you figure it’s okay, some strange form of team bonding?

Not a soul comments on the way the Lieutenant insists on being the one to cut up your food and feed you bites during meals in the dining hall, pretending as though they don’t hear him telling you about how “my wife works hard enough, don’t need to be liftin’ a finger wit’ me around, love.”

They know to move out of the way if you’re approaching a closed door, knowing if the Lieutenant is anywhere near, he’ll be rushing to open the door for you before you can even attempt to do it yourself.

Even Soap has stopped complaining aloud and only rolls his eyes when Ghost drops anything and everything he’s doing- whether it’s spotting the Sergeant in the gym, being out on a morning run, hell even being in the middle of a shower- to send you a good morning text at six o clock on the dot. Every. Single. Morning.

No, you never exactly anticipated this sort of a running gag from a hardened military base, but you’re not exactly complaining either.

Not when you find your heart fluttering every time your fake work husband dotes on you like he really would marry you at the drop of a hat.

Besides, it’s all just playful, innocent fun, right?

Especially when everyone begins to apparently forget your name and instead refers to you only as Mrs Riley.

And when the Captain tells you that your requested time off for a honeymoon has been approved, something which you definitely don’t remember requesting, well that’s all just fun too, right?

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but It is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.

[kitasuno]

to be loved is to be known | suna rintarou x reader

you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.

slight angst, happy endings, and miscommunications atsumu is sexy reader is gn wc: 1481

It is dusk and warm and just barely humid when you realize you don’t know Suna Rintarou at all. 

You know that Suna likes chuupets and volleyball and his dingy digital camera with the cracked screen. His left eye twitches slightly when he lies, he always ties his right shoe before his left, and he keeps forgetting to buy pencil lead despite preferring mechanical pencils over traditional. He likes the rain. Can’t bite into ice cream. Wool scarves over fleece, seven followers on his private Twitter, and is always late because he likes feeding the stray cats in the alley next to the Family Mart with the good sausages. 

What you didn’t know is that Suna Rintarou is in love. You find out from Kita Shinsuke, who tells Aran after practice, a conversation not meant for your ears but gracing them nonetheless as you stand before the entrance to the gymnasium. You feel a dryness in your throat and a sting in your eyes as Kita shares that Suna is not only in love but had confessed to someone. Maybe it’s your divine punishment for eavesdropping. Maybe it’s rotten luck. Because, coincidentally, and horribly so, you’ve been in love with Suna Rintarou ever since you met him. 

So when Suna walks up from behind you, back from the vending machine, and asks you why you’re lingering outside and staring at Kita with that look on your face, you lie. 

“I have a crush on Shinsuke.” You blurt out. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 

The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 

You feel sick. 

“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 

You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 

“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 

“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 

Suna pauses. 

“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.

A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 

“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 

And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 

“Is that it?” You ask. 

A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 

“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 

As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 

An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 

from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN

from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home

from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow

amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT

from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that

from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 

from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today

from: you (21:12) ?

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION

from: you (21:18) Wht??

from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 

from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN

from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  

You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 

“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 

“Rintar-”

“I like you.”

You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 

“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 

It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 

Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 

You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 

You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 

So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  

amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!

sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice

y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 

sunarin has removed amazing perfect miya atsexy from the Inarizaki Volleyball Team Chat. 

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully. 

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air. 

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss. 

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies. 

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you. 

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so. 

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?” 

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper. 

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips. 

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick. 

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”

[peachysunrize]

The King’s Retribution ⥃ prince Aemond Targaryen

Summary: when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, rough sex, lactation kink, reader is Aegon’s wife, post B&C, s2e3 inspired, dacryphilia, Aemond feels humiliated after the brothel scene, hair pulling, doggystyle, they do it in Aegon’s rooms👀 kind of a chubby/overweight reader because she has baby weight, tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 3.6k+

A/n: a very special thank you to @aemonds-holy-milk for this incredible request!!! And a very honorable mention and thank you to @arcielee for helping me with the plot and beta-ing for me! Your touch made this much hotter and better!🩷 Reblogs and comments are more than welcome<33

Aemond pushes the door to one of Maegor’s tunnels, peeking through to see if anyone is around. He scoffs when he finds the hallway empty, with no guards, no maids or handmaidens. He walks upstairs to the royal chamber’s floor, one hand pushing his hood off while the other twirls his dagger.

He is filled with such rage that he can burn this castle down without Vhagar’s help. The sting of humiliation keeps poking through his ribs, making him heave with each breath he takes. He had to keep his composure back in the brothel, he had to show his power by walking outside the room naked as the day he was born to regain some control his brother took away from him.

He walks past the rooms of his family, skipping a stair here or two as he follows the path to his chambers in silence, until he reaches his brother’s doors, catching the sound of a soft hiccuping and muffled wailing of a child.

Aemond unsheathes the dagger as he steps closer to the unguarded door, shaking his head in disbelief at his brother’s ignorance, especially after what happened to Jaehaerys. He opens the door slowly, not wanting to startle whoever is inside — a nursemaid or the queen.

He finds you sitting in front of the fireplace with baby Maelor crying fat tears in your arms as he tries to latch onto your exposed breasts to fill his tiny, hungry belly. Aemond’s eye wanders over your bare upper body; heavy swollen teats leaking with milk, a tired and teary expression on your face as you try to lull your son back to sleep, tending to him, caressing him, loving him. 

He has never seen a sight more beautiful than this.

He sheathes his dagger and pushes it into his belt before knocking on your door gently so as not to scare you and his nephew. He watches you closely as you snap your head in his direction, the tension leaving your shoulders as you smile at him sadly.

“Aemond,” you call him, gasping when your son bites your already sore nipple with his gums, trying to latch on to it but failing. He cries harder, face twisted angrily, his chubby cheeks red and puffy with how long he’s been searching for some comfort.

“Please, please don’t — mommy is trying,” you cry with him softly, standing up to pace around the room while you rock him, shushing him and wiping his tears. You are trying your hardest to feed him properly, but every second is wasted in vain as he cries and fusses in your arms.

Aemond closes the door behind him, enraptured with the sight you made—watching you walk around the room, half bare and beautiful to his eager eye.  He unfastens his cloak and belt that holds his daggers and sword before laying it on the nearest table, walking towards you with his hands locked behind his back.

You look like The Mother coming real, a god he should worship at your altar.

“Oh, my darling boy,” you coo at Maelor, sniffing as he sobs harder, his little fists flying on your chest as he searches for your breast, mouth parted and ready to be filled with his late-night meal.

Aemond stands behind you, not too close to intrude on your personal space, especially in such a vulnerable state you are in, but to keep looking at you. His eye roams across your nude chest, your fuller stomach, and hips that carry the remaining weight of having pushed a babe into the world.

He listens to your words, remembering the sight of his brother mocking him at the brothel, while he was being cuddled and taken care of — what an ugly laugh he has, Aegon. 

His gaze darkens as he looks at you, his queen, his brother’s wife, his brother’s possession, being so vulnerable in his presence with your breasts out and your child finally suckling on them. His eye finds your form once more as Aegon's words replay in his ears — ‘My brother will not sample another.’ He will make sure to teach his brother a very valuable lesson and serve him a good punishment.

His cock starts to swell beneath the layers of his clothing as he stares at you with a newfound passion; you have always been a lovely figure in his mind, too sweet and beautiful to be wed to his brother, and yet, now your features seem to be bolder in his eye.

He strides forward when he hears Maelor crying again, this time much softer but a cry nonetheless. You scurry to cover your breasts when you feel him behind you, trying to look at least a bit modest now that your child is less fussy.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I-I forgot you came to visit,” you say in a hushed tone, waiting with bated breath for him to say something.

He looks down at his nephew over your shoulder, reaching to wipe a drop of milk from his round cheek near his mouth, his fingers brushing against your sore nipple accidentally. Both of you inhale sharply — him with the new rush of desire and you in surprise. 

“What a messy eater,” he says, his eye meeting yours as he brings his wet finger to his mouth, licking the remaining of your milk off while he keeps eye contact with you, dropping his eye to your lips as soon as they part in surprise before he meets your eyes again — they look darker, cloudier, more lustful. Your lashes flutter, and your rosy lips let out a shaky breath as you keep your gaze on his pink tongue licking his finger.

“It runs in the family I’m afraid,” you reply, averting your eyes from him, pressing a kiss on top of your son’s head as you bounce him, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Despite how crude your husband is, he’s never been one for making you flustered by such a simple gesture, and yet, his brother seems to be the complete opposite; bold, daring, and he’s surely taking whatever he wants.

“May I?” Aemond asks, standing in front of you with extended arms, reaching to take Maelor in his embrace. You gently pass him over, and as soon as your arms are free you bring them to your chest to cover your breasts.

“I-I need to—would you mind holding him for a moment?” You pull the front of your shift up as you ask him, and he can’t help his gaze not fall back on your chest but looks upward to your eyes quickly before you catch him and nod.

He hugs Maelor close, resting his little head on his shoulder as he walks towards his crib, glancing at you walking past the privacy screen. Aemond shushes his nephew, rocking him gently while he hums a tune his mother used to sing for him to lull him to sleep. It seems his efforts have worked when Maelor grows quiet, tinted cheeks stained with tears and fingers fisted tightly. Aemond lies him down slowly, brushing a finger over the few strands of his nephew’s silver hair before his attention is turned to you walking towards him with a warm towel over your chest.

“He has been restless as of late,” you sigh, leaning down to brush a kiss on your son’s forehead, standing on Aemond’s good side, “as have I, as everyone in the Keep. It seems he feels the loss of his brother.”

“We are all shaken by the loss of Jaehaerys,” he replies, his good eye looking up at your face, taking in every up and down of your face.

“Yeah,” you smile at him, ducking your head as soon as the tears gather in your eyes, “yeah…”

He takes a step closer, reaching to wipe the tear that fell from your eye, cupping your cheek in his large hand, “What ails you, my queen?”

“I just…” words die in your throat as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek, tracing the shape of your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve been feeling so unloved.” Your voice comes out a fragile whisper.

“Why is that, my queen?” He asks, swallowing harshly at the thought of his fool of a brother being neglectful to you. He’s been given the most beautiful maiden in the realm as his wife, so dutiful and sweet, but taken for granted because Aegon can’t simply keep his cock in his breeches for so long.

“Did you happen to see him when you were out?” You ignore his question, looking up at him from beneath your wet lashes that frame your eyes so perfectly.

He nods, his strong hold on your face never faltering, if anything he’s now more determined to punish Aegon, to take something he has been given on a silver plate but failed to care for. His touch is warm and welcoming, it grounds you to this moment of brief recognition of your feelings. Aemond seems to understand it, willing to give more, but his main purpose of this visit is to hurt Aegon the way he has hurt him.

“Was he—“ a sob is stuck in your throat as you try to utter the words, “in the b-brothel?”

Aemond looks down at his muddy boots, recalling how his brother saw him, how he laughed and undermined him in front of his friends. Aemond forgets about your question for a second, pressing his lips into a thin line and gritting his teeth before he looks back up at you, not before looking one last time at your chest, watching your milk soak through the fabric.

“I-I apologize, maybe it’s best if you leave—” You move away from him, making his hand fall from your face as you try to put back the little dignity you have left before you embarrass yourself more in front of him.

Something shifts inside him as you hide yourself from him, putting more distance between as you move toward the bed. His brother was right; he has not sampled another and has always sought out the Madame, but maybe it ought to change, maybe the fire of his brother’s cruelty might quell if he takes his most precious possession from him.

“Allow me to help you, my queen,” he walks toward you slowly, his eye seizing you up, taking in the sight of your curls around your shoulders, your skin glowing under the orange hues of the candles.

You turn around, watching him take long steps until he’s standing in front of you. He raises his hand, brushing his knuckles on your collarbones, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage. You exhale shakily, whether it is in requited desire or surprise, he does not know, but you do not push him away, just a weak protest that ‘we should not do this, I am your brother’s wife.’

“My brother is a fool who demeans others to feel powerful, and he has done this to us both,” he dips his down on your neck, his hot breath fanning on your ear, “let me show you what you have been deprived of.”

“You wish to help me just to teach your king a lesson?” your voice comes out with a slight tremble as you reach to brush your fingers through his silky hair. “Is that truly why you want me?”

“I despise when Aegon takes what is his for granted,” he says, “He is a fucking twat who takes for granted the treasures he has been given: the throne, the crown, you. And he humiliates you, his queen, by stepping inside that sinful place," he mumbles against your skin, tracing his lips over your neck while his nose nudges your cheek. 

“What do you want to do?” you whine when he bites your earlobe; you cling to his shoulders.

“I wish to fuck you like a hound,” he groans into your ear, his hands coming to grip your full hips.

“We will experience his wrath, Aemond,” you try to protest, but with how focused he is on marking your skin, you cannot help but melt in his arms.

“He is the king, I’m a kinslayer,” he hovers his mouth over yours. “I will kill him too if he dares to subject you to his anger.”

“We must be quiet-mhm—” he cuts you off, smashing his lips to yours, swallowing your protest. His hands move to your waist, gripping and caressing wherever he can reach, his tongue meeting yours in a soft battle of dominance. 

You moan into his mouth when one of his fingers traces a line from your hip up to your breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his large palm. He groans against your sweet lips in delight, loving the weight of you in his hand. His thumb swipes across the wet towel before he pulls it out of your shift and drops it on the floor, leading you backward past the privacy screen to the bed.

You tangle your fingers in his soft hair, reaching to pull away the tie and letting his shiny silver hair frame his face beautifully while he kisses your breath away.

He lies you on the bed, breaking away from your lips for a second to look down at you, making room on top of you with his gaze fixed on the way your milk soaks through the fabric. He grabs the sides of your shift, ready to rip it apart before you put your hand on his, shaking your head, mumbling a hushed ‘we need to be quiet’ before taking off the dress yourself, lying under his heated gaze all bare except for your small clothes.

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” he mutters before he leans down to lick a path from your neck to your heaving chest, swiping the tip of his tongue over your nipple. He hums as he tastes a few beads of your milk, but abruptly stops when you whine, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“Maelor, well, he can’t latch onto his wet nurses. They are a bit s-sensitive— oh!” Your hand flies to your mouth when Aemond closes his lips around your bud, sucking like a babe being starved for hours, finally having his fill.

His other hand moves to your other breast, pinching, squeezing, and playing with the flesh while he gets drunk on your milk, helping the weight of discomfort vanish immediately.

Your nipple falls from his lips with a lewd ‘pop’, and he moves to the other one, giving the same attention while he leaves sticky lines of your milk across your chest, sucking on your teat quickly, nearly growling at the taste.

You cannot do anything besides moaning behind your hand and arching your back, pushing your chest further into his face. You throw your head back as your hips buck into his, his bulge rubbing against your covered core.

Aegon has never done this for you, it’s always been his duty to plant his seed inside you with little to no care for you to just make an heir, and after Jaehaerys, he’s been ever more distant — no more dinners, no walks in the garden with you and the kids.

His interest weakened the more you started to show, your soft dolce features turned into one of a woman, a mother-to-be, so he sought his pleasure in the brothels to fill the void you could no longer fill. You were non-existent in his eyes, and for once, you are glad, because the other Targaryen brother seems as if he’s in heaven while he feasts upon your breasts like a deprived babe. 

He lets go of your nipple finally, giving the fat of your breast one last kiss before he works his way up to your lips. He unlaces his pants and breeches, urging you to reach and undo his doublet, dropping it down on the pile of clothes. He breaks away to gasp for air while he grabs the back of his linen shirt and stands on his knees stark naked, his cock red, angry, and ready to burst inside you. His mouth shines with drops of your milk and spit.

He grabs the back of your thighs, spreading your legs to his hungry eye, licking his lip as his gaze falls on your soaked cunt. Aemond’s patience runs thinner than before, he moves closer to you, and his hair falls around you like a silver waterfall.

He strokes himself a few times before aligning himself with your entrance, pushing in until his cockhead is inside your warm cunt before he slams all the way into you. He muffles your scream with his own lips, hands coming to rest around your head, caging you under him as he starts thrusting.

Finally, he thinks, finally he has taken something that belonged to his brother, something so precious and fragile. You are nothing like Sylvie, you are soft and delicate, you taste deliciously sweet, and oh so responsive. 

He relishes the way you scratch his back as he fucks you with abandon, snapping his hips into yours furiously as he lets the pent-up anger he feels pour out of him. It is the anger he had inside because of his brother’s idiocy, the words that cut him deep like a sharp dagger.

But no more, no, it is time to take whatever belonged to Aegon. You are just a beautiful touch to it, and he would make sure his brother knows who’s been here, on his bed, giving his wife the pleasure she has never experienced before.

“My queen,” he shushes you, reaching down to collect a drop of your milk before reaching to smear it on your lips, licking it off them. His cock pistoning inside of you quickly, but he is mindful of the baby sleeping on the other side of the privacy screen.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, breasts bouncing with each deep thrust as you try to keep your voice at bay.

He remembers his brother’s words once more; ‘did you fuck her like a hound?’ No, not with the Madame, but he will fuck the queen of the seven Kingdoms like one now.

He pulls out of you, leaving you clenching and whining at the empty feeling before he flips you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up as he spits into his hand and strokes himself before making home inside your tight cunt again, his cock reaching deeper with this position.

You fist the pillows under your hands, biting the fabric to muffle your noises, and Aemond notices that it is your husband’s pillow you are lying on.

He chuckles lowly, one hand gripping the fat of your hip while the other runs down the curve of your spine before he fists your hair in his much larger hand, pushing your head into Aegon’s pillow even more.

“Breathe in his scent while I fuck you like a dog in heat, yes, good girl,” he groans, his limbs tingling with pleasure and anger, letting his emotions take the best of him as he picks up his pace. “Yes, remember how much of a pathetic husband he is, think of how he can never give you pleasure like I can while I fuck my child inside you.”

Tears run down your face from how intense he is taking you from behind, his hips snap into your arse. Your wetness drips down on the bed sheets, but there is little you can do but take what he gives you — a blinding and mind-blowing pleasure you have never had with your husband.

Aemond reaches around your body to find your pearl, rubbing quick and steady circles on the bundle of nerves, leaning down to prep your spine with feather-like kisses, taking in your mesmerizing scent, and looking closer at your tears, taking pure satisfaction in seeing what a mess he has made out of Aegon’s wife, the realm’s queen.

You come with a sob, teeth digging into the soft cushion while your legs shake, walls clamping down against his girth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. He lets go of your weeping cunt and grabs your bouncing breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his hand while his face falters, his thrusts deepen.

When his climax washes over him, it’s all white hot pleasure that rushes through his veins. He shakes atop you while his cock twitches and shoots ropes of his warm spend deep inside you, filling you to the brim. He kisses your tears, his face pushed against your cheek as he lets out broken gasps and groans.

He untangles his fingers from your hair as soon as he calms down from his high, bringing his milk-covered hand to his lips to lick it clean while he meets your eyes.

You look angelic, glowing with the aftermath of your release. The Mother came to life, he thinks.

He pulls out of you gently, minding how sensitive you must feel after the brutality he bestowed upon you. Aemond helps you under the covers, not caring to clean either of you up before he lies down next to you wrapping one arm around you while you curl next to him with your head on his chest.

He notes how quiet you are, drowsy and sleepy in the aftermath of your climax. He takes pride in how peaceful you look, and how good he must have made you feel. His good eye falls on the nightstand on his side, finding his brother — no, the Conqueror's crown — glinting under candlelight.

“I will kill him,” he whispers, “I will make sure our son sits upon that chair and holds Blackfyre. I will kill him, and no one shall ever know it was me.”