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#( v. the sky is grey )
wanderingguest · 1 year
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+ @jigsawfcrged​ sent: ❛ An animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape. What will you do? ❜ for mark / from some meme somewhere / always accepting
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A laugh is caught in her raw throat. There is pain, so much of it, but pain is something Anna has a close personal relationship with. Torture is an old friend, after all. Maybe she’ll die this time and, hell, that’s a small comfort. Especially when dealing with yet another man who thinks his brand of torture is something special.
“What do you think I should do? Bargain? Beg?” Shoulders shrug ever so slightly, pain working down her spine. “I’ve been here before. Well, not here, but I’ve done the torture thing.” There is blood drying on her chin and it itches. “Not gonna be chewing off my leg here, so...where does that leave us?”
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starsallalight · 1 year
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@dreamcrs : Henry & Danielle
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"Danielle! Danielle!"Henry shrieked, riding up the bridge toward the palace. His horse was covered in froth and breathing heavily, the poor beast having been pushed nearly to its limit by the frantic master.
Finally, he could bear the uncertainty and the fear no longer. Jumping from the saddle and racing up to the door as fast as his own feet could carry him, the prince paid no attention to anyone until he was at his own chamber.
When he saw his wife waiting there, safe and sound, he was ready to drop. Ever since he'd gotten Jacqueline's letter explaining the treachery they'd discovered, he hadn't been able to rest. There was no further news. No explanation or assurances that she and Danielle were alright, and that had nearly driven him mad.
"Oh, thank the Lord." Henry gasped breathlessly, making his way to the edge of the bed and falling to his knees as he wrapped his arms around his wife's waist. "Thank God."
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daughterofthetis · 1 year
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cassidy tag dump
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wandaromanoffroses · 25 days
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Ovulation
G!P Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader
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Warnings: 18+ content, masturbating, oral sex (R and Natasha receiving), finger sucking, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (P in V), overstimulation
Summary: You're ovulating while on a mission, causing you to be uncomfortably aroused. Luckily, the agent with you is more than eager to help you out...
WC: 4.1k
The motel was just like any other – grey, dusty and lit only by dim off-white. You would only be here for a night and when you pressed your hand against the cold metal of the radiator, you were glad. You debated whether or not you ask the receptionist about it but keeping your head low was key when travelling on an undercover mission. The more questions you asked and the more times your face was seen and captured by CCTV, the greater the risks. You decided against it.
You inspected the bedroom, following safety procedures which included searching for signs of any electronic devices but luckily, there were none. The bed was a small double with beige, striped sheets that were thinner than you would’ve liked. The back wall was taken up entirely by a sturdy, wooden cupboard that matched the tawny-brown, bedside tables covered in dust. You switched on the lamp and ran your hand over the mattress, noting that you would need to wear thick layers of clothing to bed. You assumed the other bedroom was the same but didn’t bother checking. The other agent could do that.
You sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. One of the things you hated most about being a woman and a spy was the problems it caused when it conflicted with your cycle. Missions on your period were uncomfortable, draining and painful. Ovulation week was also a mess; you had no way of dealing with the surge of hormones it triggered while on a mission. You made a mental note to take a cold shower after the other agent arrived. 
You read over the intel for the upcoming mission while you waited for them, straining your ears for the door. It was a complicated mission; you had to infiltrate the base of a growing terrorist organisation and hack into their systems to gather as much information about them as you could. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew scarily little about the organisation so you were going in almost blind – anything could happen. 
The plan was for two agents, including you, to blend in as one of the terrorists to get into the base. You were unaware of the identity of the agent you were paired with. You were curious to know if they were someone you’d worked with before or a complete stranger. You assumed the latter – you were still young and hadn’t been assigned to many difficult missions yet. You tightened your arms around yourself, shivering as the light outside the window was sucked from the sky, the moon blocked out by an array of dark, restless clouds. 
“You look cold.” You jumped and leapt on your feet, spinning around to see a woman standing behind you. Her face was painted with a smirk and she looked at you with her hands on her hips, her jade eyes travelling up and down your body. You swallowed. How did you not hear her come in? S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t exaggerating when they said she was the very best they had at espionage. You didn’t realise you were staring at her until she brought you out of your thoughts, “Cat got your tongue?”
“Uh, sorry,” you said, clearing your throat, “Yeah, I am. East Europe is always freezing at this time of year.” You could feel sweat trickling down your neck. Not only were you ovulating on a mission but you were stuck with an extremely attractive woman during it. You were so fucked. 
“Mm, it is,” she said, stepping towards you and offering out her hand. You noticed the electrified branches of azure and emerald running down her arms up to her fingers, pushing up against the skin, your heart thundering against your ribcage. You quickly pulled yourself out of your trance. You were a spy for goodness sake, not the nervous wreck or helpless whore your elevated levels of estrogen were making you feel like. You shook her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, “I’m Agent Y/l/n.” You pulled your hand away from hers before she could pick up on your clammy palms but unbeknownst to you, she’d already felt them. 
“I know,” she said, “I’m Agent Romanoff but to you, it’s Natasha.” You could feel your breath hitch in your throat. Natasha. You could already imagine how those three, pretty syllables would feel falling off your tongue. 
You dismissed your dirty thoughts immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. She was a stranger and your teammate; you seriously needed to pull yourself together. She nodded to the file in your hand, “I see you’re already prepared for the mission.”
“I was just double-checking all the details,” you said. The tight, black shirt and jeans she was wearing hugged her in all the right places, her sculpted arms in full view to you. She must take her training seriously, you thought, I wonder how often she goes to the gym.
“Good,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor, “I already know I’ll enjoy working with you.” You placed your hands behind your back so she couldn’t see your fidgeting fingers. Your gaze fell onto the bag and you frowned.
“Oh, were you planning on sleeping in here?” You said, “I’ll move to the other room then.” She held her arm in front of you as you stepped towards the door. 
“There isn’t another room.” You felt your heart drop. You realised the other door must be to the bathroom. You couldn’t imagine how your situation could get any worse, “Are you unhappy with that arrangement?”
“No, not at all,” you lied, “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” You swallowed, hard. You started moving towards the door, “I’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled, not waiting for her answer. You fumbled with the handle, cursing under your breath and slammed the door shut behind you. 
You didn’t waste any time taking off your clothes and turning on the shower, sighing as the cold droplets collided with your burning skin. The water only offered you a few moments of relief, however. The more you thought about the redhead and how close you’d be together that night, the more you fed the raging arousal between your legs. It became clear that there was only one way you were going to calm yourself down.
You covered your hand with your mouth as you touched yourself, your mind overwhelmed by images of Natasha. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax and you were certain that the sound of the shower and your hand had muffled out all your moans. You cleaned yourself before stepping out, drying yourself with a towel and getting dressed, praying that your body would be satisfied for the night. When you returned to the bedroom, Natasha was on the bed facing you, resting a pillow on her lap.
“You’re even prettier in real life than you are in your pictures,” she said, the unexpected compliment drowning you in butterflies. You noticed that her cheeks were flushed a bright red and her breaths seemed more laboured than before. 
“Really?” you said in disbelief. You had never seen yourself as unattractive but you didn’t think you were anything special either. You were nothing compared to the Goddess in front of you, that was for sure. She chuckled.
“You’re a humble one,” she mused, “How cute.” You couldn’t quite believe her words. Natasha thought you, of all people, were humble? You searched the room, looking for any kind of escape from the conversation and spotted a clock hung above the bed.
“It’s getting late,” you said, trying to hide your stutter, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” You knew it would be uncomfortable but anything was better than being next to Natasha. You’d slept in awkward places before so you’d just have to deal with it.
“No you won’t,” she said, shuffling to the other side of the bed and lifting the sheets, “There’s room for both of us, see?” The amount of room wasn’t the problem – it was the proxemics between you and the internal chaos your body was experiencing. How were you supposed to explain that to Natasha though? You noticed the moment your eyes fell on her that her autonomy wasn’t the same as yours so she wouldn’t understand your dilemma.
“Uh, okay,” you said, knowing you had no choice. You never sounded nervous or vulnerable, not even with your close family and friends. If embarrassment was a type of poison, you’d have collapsed in agony by now. You climbed into bed beside Natasha, turning your back to her. You were reminded of how small the bed was when you shifted slightly and felt her hand brush against the small of your back. You took a deep breath. You were in for a long night. 
She switched off the bedside lamp and to your horror, you could hear her unbutton her jeans and discard them on the floor. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose. You tensed your muscles, forcing yourself to stay as still as humanely possible so there was less chance of you accidentally making contact with each other again.
“That’s better,” she mumbled and you felt her leg against yours as she adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable. You didn’t know how long it took for you to fall asleep with her body so close to yours, her breath creating goosebumps along every part of your skin that it hit. Unfortunately, you found out the hard way that your head was the worst place to escape to you in your current state. 
You woke up, gasping and blinded by the darkness around you. You pushed yourself up, feeling the slick on your thighs from the filthy dream you had just experienced. Natasha’s head had been buried between your thighs and you had been an absolute mess beneath her. You could honestly die from humiliation – how could your mind conjure up something so vile while you were sleeping next to her? As you were about to move off the bed and sprint into the bathroom, a light was switched on and you felt a hand tighten around your wrist. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha said, a dark rasp accompanying her words, “You are not going into the bathroom to fuck yourself again.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tide of heat rush to your cheeks. She’d heard you. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, “I shouldn’t have, it was really inappropriate of me…” She silenced you by straddling your hips, trapping you beneath her on the bed. Before you could react, you were distracted by the feeling of something hard against your stomach. You looked down to see Natasha in only her boxers, the bulge pressing against your abdomen straining in its confines. Your jaw dropped. It had never even occurred to you that there was a chance she’d want you too.
“I was going to let you make the first move,” she said, “But you took too long.” From how the other agents described you, she had been so sure your boldness and confidence would’ve caused you to spring onto her immediately. She was annoyed that she’d had to listen to you pleasure yourself in the shower without her but at the same time, Natasha loved that her presence had changed your demeanour so much. 
You gulped and looked up into her eyes, seeing that her iris had shrunk into a thin line around her blown pupils. You drunk in the sight of her on top of you, placing your hands on top of her bare, supple thighs, her skin like velvet beneath you. 
“Fuck,” you breathed. She tilted up your chin, running her thumb over your bottom lip, wanting a better view of you.
“Tsk tsk. Such a dirty mouth.” You knew you shouldn’t be letting her walk all over you but you were enjoying it more than you wanted to admit. She lifted herself off your body so she could move her other hand to the waistband of your trousers. She hooked a finger underneath the material, “Can I?” You nodded and she dug her nails into your chin, “I want to hear you say it.” You weren’t used to this power dynamic – you were always the more dominant one. 
“Yes,” you said, “You can. Please.” She grinned at your obedience and slipped her hand into your pants, feeling you drip onto her fingertips. She groaned.
“Oh God, you’re so wet already,” she said, “I could stuff you with my cock right now if I wanted to.” She removed her hand from your underwear and brought it to your mouth, pushing her fingers past your lips. You sucked her digits hungrily, tasting yourself on your tongue. The sight only drove Natasha even crazier but she also felt a pang of envy, wishing it was her cock in your mouth instead. You felt so good around her fingers.
After pulling her digits out of your mouth, she lowered herself onto your body and she didn’t hesitate to connect her lips with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. Her lips moulded against yours perfectly and you moved in sync with her, your kisses becoming more and more desperate. She could taste your sweetness as she kissed you and she forced herself to forget about breathing, not wanting to pull away for even a second. Her hands cupped your face and you reached up to tangle yours in her hair, her lips staining yours with garnet lust. 
You pulled her even closer against your chest, your mind a buzz of her and her only. You let her tongue slide between your teeth when you felt it press against your bottom lip, making no effort to fight against it with your own. She swallowed your whines, her crotch grinding against your thigh. You had never hooked up with anyone before; you weren’t that kind of person. But you were willing to break all your rules for Natasha and give every part of you to her without hesitation. 
Her mouth moved to your jawline, littering your face with kisses, her hands trailing down your arms. You shivered under her feather-light touch, gasping as her teeth sunk into your neck, intending to leave a bruise that everyone else would see. She tugged at the hem of your shirt.
“Take it off,” she said. She leaned back to give you space to pull it over your head and unhook your bra before she pounced on you like an animal. She traced her fingers over your collarbones before venturing further down to your chest, her fingers circling your nipples. You arched into her touch as she caressed your breasts, her movements sending a spark straight to your core. You reached down to cup her bulge, noticing the wet patch on her boxers but she slapped your hand away, “No touching,” she snapped. 
“Please, Natasha,” you said, “I need you; it hurts.” She tutted.
“Patience,” she husked. She pulled away from you and started taking off her clothes, freeing her aching breasts before pushing down her boxers. Her erection sprang out from the material, the tip inflamed and ringed by an enraged red, pre-cum dribbling onto the sheets beneath her. 
She led back onto the pillow, giving you a full view of her body and you took a moment to admire her. Everything about her was a masterpiece – her facial features, her muscles, her curves. Her crimson hair was a mess around her shoulders and the front pieces had fallen forward, framing her face, “I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” You shook your head.
“No, Natasha,” you pleaded, “It’ll feel so much better in my pussy, I promise…” You fell silent as her eyes burnt into you. You reluctantly crawled over to her on all fours, hesitating before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You tried to irk her, moving as slow as possible but she grabbed a hold of your head and started pushing you down on her cock. 
“Suck.” You gagged around her length as she started bucking her hips upwards so she was fucking your mouth but the sound only drove her more. It didn’t take long for you to start moving your head up and down her cock without any guidance, guttural moans escaping Natasha’s mouth from the warmth and skill of your tongue, “Fuck, that shut you up.”
Tears spilt down your cheeks as she hit the back of your throat over and over again, the vibrations of your whines sending even more waves of pleasure through her body. She lifted her legs onto your shoulders so you could grab onto her thighs, spurring you on even more, “I’m so close,” she breathed. Her thrusts were messy and out of rhythm by the time she came undone, spilling her cum into your mouth. You made sure to swallow it all. 
She pulled her cock out of your mouth, a mixture of cum and drool coating her length, some of it dribbling down your chin, “You did so well. Such a good slut for me.” She took a moment to catch her breath, watching with eagerness as you pulled down your trousers and your panties that were positively ruined, throwing them on the floor. There were tears of white running down your legs and your clit was visibly swollen. She smirked wickedly, “You want me that bad, huh?”
“Please, I’ve been a good girl,” you whined. You tried to reach for her again but she caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Lie down.” You went to lay on your back but she grabbed your shoulders, her nails indenting crescent-moons into your skin before pushing you down onto your stomach. You gasped as her hand pressed against your cunt, her fingers running through your sensitive folds. Her movements were slow and deliberate, intending to increase your need but not give in to it.
“More,” you begged as her thumb massaged your clit. The smell of sex was heavy in the air and your senses were intoxicated by the vanilla and brown sugar fragrance of her perfume. She gave your clit a sharp pinch in response to your pleas, causing you to inhale a sharp intake of breath.
“You’re insatiable,” she said, “You’re begging to be fucked by a woman you just met. Like a whore.” You started rubbing your crotch against her hand, your motions erratic and frantic. 
“More, please,” you cried, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the need between your legs started to burn, “Please, Natasha.” She pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching out your entrance but making sure to avoid your g-spot. 
“Tell me what you want.” 
“I want you inside of me,” you groaned as she added a third digit to your cunt. Natasha started to play with her breasts using her free hand; she was burning for you just as badly as you were for and the sound of your begging only worsened her desire. It took all the strength in her body to hold herself back and not ruin you right there and then. She was so glad you couldn’t see her.
“I am inside of you.” You whined.
“I want your cock. I need it inside of me, please.” She grabbed hold of your hips, smirking. As much as she enjoyed seeing you so needy for her, her patience was wearing thin.
“Then you’ll take it all.” She suddenly rammed inside you without any warning, not being able to resist you for any longer and you cried out in shock. Your initial discomfort was drowned by explosive bliss as Natasha filled you to the brim, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. She was met with no resistance as she rutted into you despite her size which stretched you out deliciously. Your pussy was so much better than she could’ve ever imagined.
She flattened herself against your back, needing to feel more of you. She grunted against your ear as her hips slammed into your ass with each powerful stroke. You were dizzy with pleasure as her speed increased, your moans intensifying as she started to pound into your sweet spot. She was older and more experienced than anyone you had been with before which was evident in how she was making you feel. Your body was coursing with more pleasure than you thought was humanely possible. 
The knot in your stomach was tightening fast and the sounds of your wet cunt were echoing through the room, “Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” Natasha said, not caring about her dignity anymore, too lost in the sensation of your warmth clenching around her cock, “Tell me how you feel baby.” 
“I feel so, so good,” you said, “Please, don’t stop.” You looked back at her and she tilted her head so your lips could connect for a moment before her mouth moved to your shoulder. She sucked on the soft skin there, slowing down so she could sink deeper into your cunt. She could feel your legs trembling beneath her own as you pushed back in rhythm with each of her thrusts.
“How close are you?” Natasha didn’t want to admit it but she was already teetering on the edge, struggling to hold back from how well you were taking her. You could feel her movements become sloppy as more and more of your juices gushed from your entrance. 
“So close,” you said, your walls clenching even harder around her cock. It only took a few more thrusts before you could feel gasoline flood your bloodstream, ready to be set on fire, “Natasha, f-fuck…” You didn’t even have to say it.
“Let go for me,” she commanded. You let the knot in your stomach unravel, screaming her name as all the nerves in your body were electrified, sparks of searing light shooting across your vision. No drug could replicate the state of euphoria you were both lost in as your walls were drowned by white, your cunt milking her cock dry until there wasn’t a single drop left to give. You had never experienced an orgasm so strong, so prolonged, so incredible. You expected Natasha to stop after fucking you through your high but instead, she picked up her pace again. You whimpered.
“Natasha, that’s enough…” She pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back before slipping straight back inside of you. Your eyes widened. 
“What’s wrong?” she mocked, “You begged for my cock, slut. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She smirked when you didn’t give her an answer, already drowning in ecstasy again despite the building ache between your legs. You were losing your grip on reality as the new angle gave her access to more places inside of you and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were overstimulated. 
She didn’t take her eyes off you, wanting to see your reaction to everything she gave you. You were growing more sensitive by the second and you could feel her cock throbbing against your walls each time you squeezed her, drops of perspiration gleaming on every inch of your skin. You reached up to cup Natasha’s breasts, the extra layer of stimulation pushing her towards yet another climax in record time. 
She started to rub your clit, hoping to speed up your release but it was becoming evident she’d have to release without you. You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her even closer and for a moment, she forgot your pleasure, getting too lost in her own. She tore her eyes away from you and threw her head back, panting like a dog. 
“Cum inside me,” you said and at the sound of your words, she didn’t hesitate, letting her orgasm crash into her body with full force. She moaned your name between gasps as she was hit by waves of bliss that slowly decreased in intensity as the milliseconds passed, pulsing through her entire body. She finally pulled out of you and collapsed on the bed. You both gasped for breath, your thighs and the sheets beneath you stained with lust. You were glad you hadn’t climaxed this time – you didn’t think you’d have survived it. 
“That was fucking incredible,” Natasha admitted, turning her head to face you. You nodded in agreement, too fucked out to form a sentence, your limbs still shaking from adrenaline.
That morning, Natasha woke you up with her cock between your legs, already hard and ready for another round. Her hands only left your body during the mission and three days later after its success, she didn’t hesitate to fuck you senseless until you passed out.
A/n - I have an idea for part two so let me know if that's something you'd like.
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inkedinshadows · 1 month
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Nights and Days
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Pairing: Azriel × reader
Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺
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Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.
After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.
They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.
“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.
“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”
He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.
They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”
“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”
“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”
She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”
Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”
If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”
Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.
“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”
“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.
Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.
“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”
Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”
Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”
Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”
“So?”
He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?
“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”
Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.
Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.
She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”
He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”
She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”
“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”
“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”
Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.
“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”
She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”
Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.
“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.
“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”
“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”
“It matters to me.”
His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.
“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.
“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”
This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”
And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.
“Sleep on the bed. With me.”
Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.
Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”
She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?
“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”
“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”
She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”
The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”
“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?
“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.
“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”
He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.
She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.
“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.
“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”
How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.
But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.
“You're cold, aren't you?”
She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Prick.”
“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”
Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”
His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”
Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.
She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.
Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.
“Make room for me?”
His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.
“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.
Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.
“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”
His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”
“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.
Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.
“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.
Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”
Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.
She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.
“Can you turn over?”
Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.
“Why?”
“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”
It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.
But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.
Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.
Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”
Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.
And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.
His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.
She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.
What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.
“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”
“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”
Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.
Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”
“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”
“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.
Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.
“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”
She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”
Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.
She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.
Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.
She wanted him. She needed him.
Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.
She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”
And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.
“Because I want to see you first, princess.”
Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”
He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.
Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.
Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.
“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.
Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.
His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.
“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.
“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”
Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”
“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”
Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.
His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”
She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”
A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.
Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.
His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.
But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.
“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”
A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”
He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.
“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”
She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.
Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”
Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.
“Do you want to come, princess?”
Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
“Use your words, Y/N.”
“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.
But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.
She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”
He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”
“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”
The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.
He wasn't wearing any underwear.
The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.
Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”
For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.
Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.
Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”
She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.
“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”
With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.
He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.
Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.
“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”
His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.
A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.
She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.
They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.
Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”
“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”
Wrong words.
“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.
She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”
Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.
Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.
A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.
As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.
“Can you promise me something?”
She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”
Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”
Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”
Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.
“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”
Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.
She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.
Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.
“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”
His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.
When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.
“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”
Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…
She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.
“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”
His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”
“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”
Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.
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Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover
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dolicekiss · 1 month
Text
A debt
PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen X Velaryon niece!reader
CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni please), dubcon, lucerys velaryon reader (basically reader is lucerys velaryon but female), toxic aemond, threats, unprotected sex (p in v), near death experiment, hair pulling, rough making out, attempted sexual asssult, breeding, virgin!reader, bickering, mentions of blood, tension, kinda angsty
SYNOPSIS: Aemond could never forget that you had taken his eye out, so when you both cross paths at Storm’s End, he demands for what was taken from him. Things went haywire when a sneak attack lead you to fall from your dragon and be swallowed by the large waves. Only that you didn't die, as Aemond finds you and saves you. With nowhere to take you, the prince takes you to a brothel hoping Sylvie would keep you safe there. Little did be know, a beautiful girl such as yourself was not a thing to be put in a brothel.
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“I want you to put out your eye, as payment for mine.”
Blue sapphire sparkled in the hollowness of Aemond’s eye when he peeled back his eye patch and revealed the wound you had left behind as a little girl. A regret at best but not anymore. You swallowed, heart thumping in your chest. You possessed no desire to fight him, nor did you wish to indulge with him.
You were only a messenger here.
“One would serve.” Aemond softly spoke, as you watched him reach for a dagger. “I would not blind you.”
The piercing sound of the dagger being tossed at you was more pellucid against your ears than the gushing rainstorm outside. Patterning aggressively on the cobblestones, striking thunder tearing through the sky. The seven were definitely upset, for what was about to take place. An ominous feeling looming over your head, putting your heart in a state of unease.
“Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”
There was no way he could expect you to take out your own eye. You had acted upon impulse but you were right to do so. He was going to injure your brother and you, that stone in his hand a vivid image embedded in your mind from childhood.
You held your head high, fierce gaze focused on him. “No.”
Aemond seemed disappointed by your response. “Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”
You could hear Lord Borris’ rebuke in the back but it mattered little to Aemond as he marched towards you abruptly, causing you to retreat back. “Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!”
“Come fucking take it then.”
Swords were unsheathed and the sound of it echoed within the halls of Lord Borris' castle.
You were filled with panic, your long black braid moving behind your back when you took haste steps back. Before bloodshed could happen, Lord Borris stepped in and sent you back to your dragon. You were thankful for that as this could lead to something worse.
You went out, going to your dragon, Arrax who seemed in quite distress. You patted his back, once or twice and commanded for it to calm down in high valyrian but nothing seemingly worked. Rain had soaked into your clothes and the thunderstorm only grew heavier witch each second. As you mounted it, your gaze set on the empty space where Vhagar once sat.
You made it your goal to reach dragonstone safely and convey the Lord’s message to your mother.
As Arrax flew up in the grey sky, you looked around hoping to not find Aemond but when the massive shadow of Vhagar flew atop you in the clouds, your blood froze. Panic rising up and you knew very well that fighting Aemond in a dragon combat would end with you losing since he had claimed the largest dragon in all of Westeros.
You could feel your dragon’s uneasiness, same as yours and that was not a good sign.
Aemon had disappeared for now and you released a breath of relief, turning your dragon to head for dragonstone.
Only then Vhagar came in front of you, out of nowhere, with its wide mouth open sending your dragon in pure disarray. You tried to control it, in hopes that things will calm down if one dragon is calm enough but no.
Aemond’s laugh echoed in the open sky and it was enough to fill you with chills. You felt Vhagar right behind you, its loud roars having the same affect as Aemond’s malicious laughs. You saw a narrow pathway between two stones and went inside, knowing Vhagar would be incapable of fitting in there with its large size.
Your commands to calm your dragon down were pathetic and useless.
It was scared, as were you.
You could hear Aemond’s deep voice, and it terrified you.
“Jemēla gēlyēni enkā, riña.” Those words, you knew what they meant and you knew Aemond would only calm when he has ripped out your eye from your socket, a vision you would be.
Fearsome was the thought.
Your vision had blurred due to the constant pouring of the rain and your own head was everywhere. But then, out of nowhere your dragon spots Vhagar and in desperate need to protect itself, flies at the beast and breathes fire into her face.
“Lykiri, Arrax! Lykiri!” Your command in high valyrian flies over your tense dragon’s head as you fly away from Vhagar.
You can hear Vhagar losing its calm too, as Aemond’s high valyrian commands roared along with his dragon. You turned around, looking down but there was no sight of Vhagar chasing after you now, so you flew higher.
You broke through the barrier of the dark, looming clouds and when light greeted you, relief washed over you. False assumptions that everything was calm now became the reason of your fall as Vhagar out of nowhere leaped from the side, biting Arrax‘s head into two.
“Vhagar, no!”
Your eyes widened in horror, gaze locking with Aemond as you lost balance and fell down.
That was all you remembered, as you passed out due to the panic and lose of hope. You knew from then on, you were better off dead but what broke your heart the most was the gruesomely demise of your beloved dragon.
Aemond knew he had to find you.
Vhagar had missed you by an inch and the chances of you being alive were somewhat there. He did not wish to start a war, not like this, not by killing off his niece when she was at her weakest.
He had the advantage by being in the possession of the biggest dragon and he knew it was not fair to you.
Aemond dived in, lowering his dragon to the sea, in hopes that he would find you. Endlessly searching in the water, letting out frustrated grunts when he didn't find you. He flew over the shore, all deserted and he noticed something. Bringing Vhagar closer to it, he jumped off her back and ran towards your passed out body.
Thankfully you had washed up on the shore.
Your long braid wrapped around your stomach, the side of your head bloodied and Aemond fell to his knees, reaching for your face.
You were as lifeless as a corpse.
He checked your pulse and relief washed over him. You were alive, although unconscious.
Aemond buried his arms beneath your soaked body, lifting you up and taking you over to Vhagar. He somehow got you on his dragon’s back and tied you to him, your back pressed against his chest and head leaned over his shoulder.
“Fuck, what do I with you now?” He whispered, a mix of worry and frustration donning his face.
He couldn't take you back to the red keep, as they would capture you and hold you hostage. He didn't want that, not when he had not captured you with honor. Aemond was not some monster without morals but he sure could not take you to the blacks, knowing it would put his life in danger.
There was absolutely nothing he could do than fly around Westeros with you on his dragon.
An idea infiltrated the prince's mind.
There was only one place where he could keep you, without bringing you harm and that was the brothel he often visited. Under Sylvie’s care and under her orders, she surely would protect you and keep you safe.
He sighed, flying to where Vhagar usually rested. He allowed her rest while taking a horse, putting his hoodie over your very bright and pleasant features to conceal you.
The realm had seen you, he did not wish for people to take notice of you. Aemond pressed you into his chest as he rode in King's landing, making way to Sylvie’s brothel.
That was the best place to keep you.
As his own hostage.
For no one else to hurt, no one else to lay claim on you.
Sylvie was surprised to see the prince with an unconscious woman in his arms. Aemond only had to glare at her and she allowed him in. Thankfully it was broad daylight and there were not much customers — giving the young prince enough room to smuggle you in the confinement of a room in a secluded area of the brothel upstairs.
“My prince, who is she?”
Aemond sighed, tiresome all this was but it was his fault and deep down he knew that.
“Just know that she is mine and I am entrusting her to you.” Aemond said, staring at your unconscious body laying on the soft bed. “If harm comes to even a strand of her hair, I will behead you and your girls.”
Sylvie was terrified and it was rare of her to be this terrified of Aemond. His tone was dark and she knew that this woman, whoever she might be, was definitely not to sell to her customers. All the woman could do was nod at the prince, obeying his each and every command.
“Trust me, my prince. Rest assured. I shall take care of her like she is my own.”
Aemond was pleased. “Tend to her wounds, clean her and change her clothes. Give her your most expensive dress.”
Sylvie nodded, eyes lowered to the floor as Aemond continued analyzing you. You had the most longest hair he had ever laid eye upon. A long braid which reached your calves and it was as dark as a raven. You surely were no velaryon, as much as you went around parading it like your mother.
But you surely were a Targaryen.
He departed from the brothel, writing a mental note that he would visit again tonight.
Hours passed by and when you finally regained consciousness, it was not in the arms of death nor the waves but on a soft mattress, surrounded by candles everywhere and the strong sweet scent of oils and perfumes.
Your gaze fell on your attire and it was something you would never in your seven lives wear.
A long sleeved dress, made of sheer material, enough to expose your small clothes. Your shoulders revealed and glistening from the oils that had been rubbed on you. Your hand reached to feel your thick braid but instead wavy strands awaited you. Cascading down your back, surrounding you like a fucking gown. You were in a completely different attire than before.
Soft music orchestrated by someone unknown made its tunes inside the room you were in.
It was small, with a bed and a table side. A chair was also in the corner and you sucked in a deep breath, eyes flitting here and there to analyze the room further.
The door soon opened and it revealed a woman, in her mid fourties and you blinked upon seeing her disheveled state. She was practically naked and slowly the realization began to sink in.
“Is this a brothel?”
The woman had the sweetest smile on her lips as she nodded, in her hand a jug you assumed filled with wine. In her other, a golden cup. A grimace made its way on your face, disgust evident but there was also unmatched anger. You were going to slaughter whoever that had brought you here.
Had they sold you?
Did Aemond do this? It would not make sense at all since you knew he would have abandoned you the moment you fell off your dragon. There was no way he would search for you but if it wasn't him then someone else had found you and put you here.
Your head felt like it could burst at any given moment and you realized how bad of a throbbing pain was in the side of your head. It ached and when you reached for it, you flinched.
“By what means am I here? I need to know who put me in such a horrible filthy place.”
You watched with a sharp eye as she poured the liquid into the cup, extending it out for you once finished. You blinked, shaking your head. “I demand answers, not wine.”
“I'm afraid I'm not allowed to answer those but he will be here soon.”
You snatched the cup of wine from her hand and tossed it across the room, watching as the glass made contact with the wall and collapsed in the corner. The woman’s grin grew wider as she realized you were no low born for sure. The amount of money she could make off you was unmatched but she knew better than to defy Aemond’s orders.
“You have the temperaments of a high born lady.” Sylvie said, head tilted as she admired the beauty you were blessed with. “No wonder I was told to take care of you.”
There was not a mark on your face, like you'd been blessed by the seven themselves. You were a piece of art and how she'd gotten you ready only made you appear like Venus, the goddess of love and sex, fertility even.
Sylvie left the room, to attend to her guests but not before warning you. “Do not leave this room, girl. There are wolves out there and they won't hesitate to rip you to shreds. You are safe here.”
You felt chills at her words, well aware of the atrocities men committed here with women.
You chewed on your lip, knees brought to your chest as you hugged them tightly while your arms wrapped around them. You wanted to cry, you missed your brothers and your mother. Being her only daughter, you knew her whole being resided within you and you wished to send a letter at least about your whereabouts.
She surely would come to save you.
Confused, scared and cornered, you stayed glued to your position.
Then the room door opened and a man entered. Your head lifted up from your knee pads and you backed into the wall seeing how drunk this man was. His wobbly walk told you he had more than enough to drink and now he was staggering towards you.
“I knew that bitch was hiding something here.” He said, a sick grin on his face and your eyes widened upon catching a glimpse of the man's hands that were extended to grab a hold of you. “Such a pretty girl like you should be downstairs, not here. But then it's good you're here. I get to have you all for myself.”
“Touch me and I will make you wish you were never born.” You spat, a venom in your tone as your posture shifted.
You were on guard and you had always trained under your step father, Daemon. You knew how to defend yourself, as well as take down a life if you had to. There was nothing in this world that you would not do to protect yourself and when the man's flimsy endeavor to grab you slipped, you rolled over the bed to reach for the cup of wine.
You swallowed.
You had trained but you never once had to fight someone to save your life, dignity and honor.
This was real, this was what you had trained for.
Adrenaline pumped through your blood, since the man was evidently twice your delicate size. You watched with a sharp gaze as he scoffed, reaching for you. Before his hands could come in contact with your exposed shoulders, you struck down the man's hand with the sharp edge of the wine glass.
He let out a scream, nearly succumbing to his knees. “You fucking bitch.”
You stared as blood soaked his clothes, the cut deep and brutal on his hand. This only encouraged his lust for you, an anger igniting in his eyes. He seemed pretty sober now as he got back up and slammed you against the wall with newfound force.
“Fucking whore. You don't have to act this hard to get. I swear I'll pay more than what the others do.” His words were like salt to the wound, as he held you over the wall. You had nothing on him now, as the man buried his face into your neck.
He sniffed, satisfied with the scent of the oils staining your skin. Before his lips could come in contact with your skin, the door slammed open and you saw Aemond.
The moment he laid his gaze on you, in such a horrible and disgusting situation, something inside him snapped. His jaw tightened and Aemond forgot that he was in a brothel and causing a scene could put you in danger.
You felt the force of the man disappear as Aemond pulled him off you, pinning him to the ground with his knee into his neck. You watched as your uncle delivered punch after punch, ruining the set of very basic features on his face.
“How dare you lay your filthy hands on her? On her, of all people?” His voice was loud as for each word, a taut punch was sent to the man's face.
Sylvie entered the room, in a panicked state, witnessing the disheveled state of both Aemond and you in front of him. She recognized the man as one of her clients and when Aemond caught her in his eye, he stood up and grabbed the woman by her throat, pressing her into the wall.
He leaned in, darkness imposing a threat. “I gave you one fucking job, and you failed.”
“I-I swear I don't know how he found her. My Prince believe me, I-I would never misplace something you told me to take care of.”
You watched the whole scene unfold, with blurring tears in your eyes, a soft sniffle escaping you. The man's touch was disgusting and it still lingered over your shoulders, the stains of blood tainting the purity of your skin. You could not believe what was going on, all you knew that Aemond was aware of your whereabouts which could only mean one thing; he himself put you here. Was this how low the Greens were willing to go, to win the war? By tainting the Queen’s reputation and putting you in a brothel for commoners to use and throw?
“Get out of my fucking sight and hand this fucking filth to my guards. I will see what it is to be done of him.” Aemond elucidated each word for the woman and she nodded, grabbing the man and dragging him out. “And bring me some water and a clean cloth.” His head turned in your direction, gaze locking with your blurred one.
You were still frozen in that position, not being able to move an inch. Your body had stilled from how sudden and scary everything was.
Aemond took a step towards now that you two were alone and you flinched. “Please don't.”
He stilled, staring at you. You were close to breaking apart, he could see it. Tears falling down in small streams, glistening over the golden glow of the candle casting on your face.
“I would never force myself upon you.” He said, almost offended that you would expect something like that from him in the first place. He was cold, stoic, he knew but did you really see him in such a horrible light? It bothered him when it should not have, it shouldn't matter what you have got to say or think about him.
“Did you throw me in here as revenge for your eye, Uncle?” You spoke, throat feeling like it was being prickled by needles because of how much you were holding yourself back from breaking into a fit of sobs and tears.
He raised a brow and then proceeded to scoff. “You really do see me as some tyrant.”
“You chased me on your dragon and made me fall, I could have died!” You shouted, taking a step forward. Your sadness had transformed into anger, and now your tears were flowing freely. A ton of emotions overwhelming your little frame and Aemond saw it.
The tick in his jaw grew, fists still clenched and blood dripping from them. “But you didn't. I found you and I brought you here to keep you safe—”
“Safe? Safe?! You brought me here, to this god forsaken place to keep me safe? Just say it, Uncle.” You fumed, stepping up to the man you once feared. “You wanted to humiliate me. You want me to get used, be some common man's whore.”
Aemond’s patience was running thin and when he imagined you as a whore, it ran out right before you. His feet moved with such ability as he marched in your direction, slamming you against the corner, palms glued to the wall. He breathed down your face, his sharp chin brushing against yours.
Your breath hitched, being this close to your Uncle was completely new and you were rendered speechless.
“The greens will hold you hostage.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “They will parade you around on a fucking horse for the whole of King's Landing to bear witness.”
You stared into his one eye, chest rising up and down as suddenly your body had forgotten how to lure in some air. “Could've taken me home.”
“They would take me hostage for the cause of your injured state.” He whispered, in a much softer tone. “There was nowhere for me to take you in your current state, only here.”
“A brothel, Uncle.” You said, tears once again threatening to spill and they did. Your soft sniffles echoing in the room, remembering what the man had done and how filthy his touch felt. You felt defiled and he hadn't even done something worse, something that could never be taken back. Your bloodied shoulders shook violently from how much you were crying, body going slump and Aemond quickly held you in his arms, not allowing you to succumb to the floor.
His strong arms held you — with overbearing strength, holding you whilst you cried.
In truth, you hated every bit of this war. Things were much better before the death of your grandsire, King Viserys. The crown made people greedy, the more they looked at it. It possessed the type of power which was too overwhelming for anyone and everyone. Like a curse, it slowly poisoned the mind of its bearer. The same was happening with the Greens as they had usurped your mother's throne.
“You should've left me to die.” You managed to say through your broken cries.
Aemond released a bated breath. “It was never my intention for something as grave as that to happen. It was merely an attempt to intimidate you.”
You understood him. Despite all this fucked up shit, you did. You had taken his eye out, left him disabled. His siblings had all their parts but Aemond felt empty, he felt incomplete and you had played a big part in it. Both of you had realized your mistakes a long time ago yet no one owned up to it, no one possessed the courage to reach out the other for closure.
You never apologized for the bullying encouraged by his brother, he never apologized for assaulting your brothers. You never apologized for taking his eye and he never apologized for attempting to intimidate you with his dragon — which made you suffer a great loss. Remotely close to his.
“Arrax,” you sobbed, in the arms of the man who was the cause of your state. “my poor dragon. He was so scared, I could feel it. He was afraid.”
Aemond wanted to apologize. He wanted to because he was aware of a rider’s bond with its dragon. Yet no words left his mouth, his palm running up and down your back rather awkwardly. He had absolutely no idea on what to do with you now. Your forehead was pressed into his chest as you sobbed.
But then you looked up at him, with a piercing gaze. “You are as childish and as pathetic the day I took your fucking eye out, Aemond.” This time you did not address him as your uncle and your words riled him up even more. You were at his mercy, you should not have played with fire like that and Aemond snapped.
“I'm pathetic?” He asked with darkness behind his tone. “You're the one pinned neath me. I could easily have you, take my revenge.”
“You're going to take my eye out, Uncle? Do it. Finish it, once and for all.” You seethed through gritted teeth, glaring at him. Aemond tightened his hold on your frail wrists causing you to wince and flinch. He restrained both hands with one of his and moved the other to grasp your chin, fingers dimpling in your cheeks. “No, I will take something more precious, something that is worth more than an eye to a maiden such as yourself.”
“You wouldn't.” You said, shaking your head after realizing what he was hinting at. You knew the significance of your maidenhood and Aemond was going to hurt you right where it hurt the most. “I am your niece, you would not.”
“Did your mother not marry her uncle, Gevives?” (Beauty)
You flinched at the way his voice dropped when he spoke high valyrian. The situation you were in didn't help either, with Aemond’s whole body weight on top of you but enough to not crush you. The room elevated with tension as you opened your mouth to protest but a knock on the door interrupted you both.
“Come in.”
The door parted, revealing Sylvie along with a cloth in her hand and a bucket of clean water.
“Leave it on the table.” Aemond commanded, not paying her any mind and the woman obliged before leaving the room.
Your uncle reached for the cloth, soaking it into the water. You struggled, squirming in his tenacious grip and all Aemond did was keep his eye on you while he soaked the fabric fully into the water. Once it was soaked enough, he pulled it out and leaned down, face only a few inches apart from yours. Your breath got stuck in your throat.
He swiped the cloth over the blood stains on your collarbones, gently and carefully. The action itself caused arousal to pool in your cunt, your thighs squeezing together and Aemond felt it. He let out a breath, sending it to tingle your skin and you gasped out at how close he was to you.
“The idea of someone else's blood on you vexes me.” Aemond confessed, moving the fabric down to the cups of your small shoulders. He swiped it across the skin, watching as your skin became free from the taints of filth.
You licked your lips, breath ragged. “You have gone insane, Uncle.”
“I have, maybe I truly have.” Aemond’s eye was focused on the sharp bone embedded in your skin, known as your collarbone. His desires were taking the best of him and he hated himself for it. You were his niece, the same little girl who took his fucking eye out and is now his enemy — the same girl who would betray him in a heartbeat for her mother.
Abandon him for her pretender of a mother.
Yet the man did not care enough to stop whatever he was doing.
“How will you take something more precious when it is painfully obvious who is the more experienced brother, according to the rumors of the Keep.” You hissed and Aemond inhaled, a serpent you'd become in such a short span. Aemond stopped cleaning your skin, since he was finished and tossed the fabric aside.
His fingers clamped around your chin. “Keep your mouth fucking shut. You are only tempting me, niece.”
It was obviously a warning but you could not back out, not when you had held hostility all your life towards him. “For all I know, I am not even of your nature. I have heard you like them older, my Prince.” A mischievous smirk ceased your features. It was all a facade to come off strong. “Like her. Is she the one you visit in brothels? You know her too well.”
“Shut your fucking mouth before I shove my cock in it. Would you like that, hm? You're probably a pathetic little slut exactly like your mother.” Aemond threatened, suppressing the urge to strike his hand over your cheek. His grip on your chin tightened, his fingers craning your face up as his breath mingled with yours.
“How sad that the one who is putting all his effort in winning the war was never bound to get the throne nor become the object of his mother's affections.” You taunted and that hit Aemond where you wanted it to hit. “How does it feel, Uncle? To not receive an ounce of love from both your father and mother.”
“At least I am not a bastard.” He spat, and you knew that was coming. It was their one valid argument after all. “I might be a bastard but both my mother and father cherish me, love me, for who I was, for what I am. You are a sad, pathetic case.”
Aemond’s hand moved to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling you over to the bed to toss you on it like some ragdoll. You gasped when your frail body collided against the bed, feeling it bounce a little. Your brows furrowed as you turned around to face him but Aemond was already standing before you, his knee dipping into the bed.
“Let’s see if that mouth of yours can still produce coherent words when I am fucking your sweet cunt.” Breath uneven and lips shuddering, you stared at him as he pushed aside the curtains of the bed and maneuvered inside, crawling on top of you.
You tried to run, a feeble and failed attempt at escaping from the dragon you had awakened. Aemond locked you in place by one hand around your leg, pinning you down against the bed. His harsh actions made you miss the man in who's arms you had cried and how gently he held you, like you were a lover and not the one he despised the most.
“Even though you never apologized, I forgive you.” He whispered, reaching for his eye and removing the patch to reveal the familiar sapphire again. A reminder of the events that took place between you two.
You felt horrible, guilt overpowering and over consuming. “You threatened me with a stone. I was only protecting myself and my brother.”
“You humiliated me, at every chance you and that bastard brother of yours got. Were the indignities caused by my brother not enough that you two had to join in?” His tone was almost sad and you realized how awfully you had been to him, all for the sake of momentarily fun. The picture from his side was painted cruelly and your lips shivered.
Was apologizing going to be enough?
Is it going to be enough when your uncle was on top of you, about to commit the most vilest of crime.
“I'm sorry.” Came a wholehearted whisper from you, a sad expression adorning your face. “It is not enough to bring your eye back or take back everything and you do not have—”
“I told you, I forgive you.” He said, his hand cupping your shoulder, fingers tugging underneath the sleeve hanging around your arm. “But you must be punished. You must face the consequences of your own actions.”
“Uncle, we were children.” You attempted to justify but that was like sprinkle of fuel to the fire.
Aemond pulled your sleeve, causing it to rip and your eyes widened in horror. His other hand ripped the other sleeve as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You were not only terrified but weirdly aroused too. Your uncle's anger was obvious but the subtle change between his rough tugs and gentle kisses left you light headed as well as overwhelmed. You breathed in, and then released it, in hopes that he would calm down but Aemond was too far gone.
“Uncle, stop it.” He tried to push at his chest.
Aemond grabbed your wrists, locking them over his chest. “I will only stop once I put a silver haired bastard inside you.”
“Fucking me in a whorehouse, putting a bastard in me. You have truly planned this out, no?” You said, putting up a strong facade but deep down you were scared. You did not wish to give birth to a bastard, knowing you yourself were one. Born out of wedlock to your mother and her guard, sir Harwin strong.
You knew how badly were they treated and the thought of giving birth to one pained you.
“Would you be so cruel to put a babe in me and then abandon it?” You asked — staring up at him with glossy eyes. You writhed in his hold but to no avail as his one hand clamped over your wrist while the other moved to tug at your neckline, causing your breasts to spill out.
Aemond hissed. He'd realized you had grown now and you were not the same little girl who helped his brother make his life a living hell. Your nipples rosy and hardened and he sighed, fondling the plush fat. “The image of you walking around dragonstone with my silver haired bastard tugging at the skirt of your dress, demanding attention. A reminder of what his father did to you swells my cock.”
“Get off me. You're fucking mad if you think I would carry your children.” Your endeavors to fight him were a lost cause, trying to land punches at his chest but they were gone in vain. Aemond had control, he had power over you by being stronger, more muscular. “I will drink moon tea. You cannot force me to have your child."
“Then I must keep you here and breed you every single night until you are swollen with my babe.”
He got off you and flipped you on your stomach, hands covetously ripping apart the expensive chiffon dress, revealing your bare back. Your small shoulders trembling and chills dancing down the small of your back when the cold air brushed against your skin.
“Stop it.” It came out muffled as Aemond buried your face into the mattress.
Not only had he intended to fuck you, he was going to do it like you were some common whore. Either taking you on your back or on your stomach. You bit back a soft cry as his fingertips danced across your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Tears glossed your vision and you let out a tentative whimper when his hand groped a handful of your plush ass.
“It is time to pay the consequences of your actions, Bastard.” Aemond’s words were hoarse making you flinch.
He had locked you in place with his own body and soon enough he also stripped himself off his attire. You could not see, but you could hear the metallic jingling of his sword and dagger against one another, his belt and briefs shuffling together. Aemond’s hand flew back to grip your nape, forcing your face deeper into the pillow.
Your body was not fully bare as his, some aspects still covered by the tethered pieces of fabric.
Aemond reached over and hoisted you up into his arms, pushing your body on your palms and knees. Despite your struggle and continuous objection, he still managed to put you in the most degrading position ever. You were like a fucking animal — ass pushed out for him and the tears finally fell. His fingers dug into the side of your hips, holding you in place.
“I hate you, I fucking hate you.”
Your constant expressions of your loathsome did not bother Aemond in the slightest. Your mouth did not matter to him, it was your cunt that did. He didn't even mind to prepare you, all he did was align his hardened leaking tip at your soaked hole and pushed. Loud grunts and high pitched whimpers tore through you both as you felt him breach your maidenhead and defile you with determination. Bittersweet pain had blossomed in between your thighs, your cunt a bleeding mess but Aemond continued, pushing his cock furthermore until he was fully sheathed inside your walls.
“The cunt of a bastard is surely more pleasurable than a whore's. I shouldn't let you go to dragonstone, I should make you my personal little whore. For me to use and breed.”
Your cries of pain and broken sobs did not falter him as he relished them — enjoying the way your hiccups sounded. Frail and light, allowing him to have the pleasure of revenge he was denied off all his life. But not anymore, as he had you right where he wanted. This humiliation was much better than taking your eye out.
“A-Aemond,” you sobbed mindlessly, trying to wriggle out of his grasp which lead it to grow firmer. “hurts, please it hurts. Be gentle, please for the Gods.”
You knew that begging him to stop was futile but maybe if you begged enough for him to be gentle, he would be kind enough to not ravage you like some beast. Your broken little sobs worked in your favor as Aemond allowed you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of his manhood, as he had forgiven you after all.
He did not loathe you.
He only wished for consequences, for revenge.
This was it.
Aemond lowered his face next to your ears, taut chest pressed over your sweaty spine as he whispered in your ear. “If I don't take you now, I would continue to harbor ill intentions for you. This is for the best.”
It was all a lie, a way to manipulate you.
You nodded, finally succumbing and Aemond felt a strong overwhelming sense of victory wash over him.
He slowly pulled out of you before drilling back inside you, repeatedly and over the course of him pummeling his cock inside you, you became a writhing, blubbering mess. It was too much for your little body as Aemond continuously fucked his cock into you. Built like him it was. Long, slender and you'd assumed it was as beautiful as him too.
Your hands were let go from their tight hold and you found them buried into the soft sheets, fingers intertwined with the pale pillows and sheets. Each thrust sent your body forwards and you whined, feeling his cock head bruise your cervix, aiming upwards for that perfect spot of yours.
“Oh!” Your eyes rolled back to your skull at one particular thrust, feeling him hit an area unexplored.
Aemond’s brows creased together, realizing he had finally found the sweet spot he was hunting for. His movement grew relentless, in fast, deep drills he abused that sensitive area as he watched you ascend deeper into the stairs to heaven. Your knuckles had gone white from the strong hold and your knees shivered from Aemond’s force.
“If you'd given yourself up to me like this, I would not have had to hunt you to satisfy my thirst for revenge.” Aemond panted, his words accompanied by loud striking sounds of skin meeting skin. “You should have visited my chambers when you took my fucking eye out. Should have stripped naked, spread your legs for me to take your sweet cunt.”
“Please, stop,” came a broken murmur from you, wishing to forget about that god forsaken night. “d–didn't want to do it, didn't want to hurt you. I was scared, was terrified of Vhagar.”
“But you did. You took out my eye, left me hideous.” Aemond had always felt monstrous, empty and incomplete. These feelings were all gifted by you and now he wanted you to feel the same.
Left incomplete, defiled and empty.
Aemond’s hand moved down to grab a fistful of your hair from the roots, pulling up until you two were one body. His chest over your spine, as he fucked himself into you, deep and vigorous strokes. Tears streamed in tiny rivulets down your face, as Aemond circled another arm around your breasts, holding you in place to fuck you like you were some doll made for his sickly pleasures.
You made the grave mistake of moving your head and found him already staring at you. Lips parted, letting out breathless little pants and the sapphire danced in his empty socket, a reminder of your actions. He saw you, close and noticed all the features littered across your face. The freckles over your nose, the dark strands clinging to your perspired forehead and the way your nose scrunched up whenever he thrusted inside you. Gods, you were a heavenly sight, one that only he was fortunate enough to witness.
Aemond fought back the urge to claim your lips in a kiss — that action too intimate, than using your cunt to satisfy his hunger.
But eventually caved in as he took your lips into an aggressive lock, a firm kiss it was. He bite and licked at your lips, shoving a wet tongue past the pair and slithering inside like a snake. You whined, hoping that he would slow down but Aemond devoured you like a starved mad man. Teeth clashing with teeth, tongue battling with tongue, he swallowed all the little sounds you produced. His gruesome kiss had left you lightheaded when he pulled back to look at you.
In a daze you appeared.
Aemond stared at your swollen lips while you gazed upon his lips, dumbfounded and taken aback by his sudden desire to kiss you like a beast.
“I-I don't find you hideous.” It was a whimper but it caused his thrusts to stall, coming to a halt. He stared at you, surprised by your words and his stomach burned in anticipation knowing well enough you would say something worse.
But what you said next left him astonished and with a newly ignited desire. “I think you're.. pretty, prettier than Aegon.”
You couldn't compare him to your brothers as the famous targaryen features were not shared amongst them but Aegon had the same features as Aemond yet you have always found him the most prettiest Targaryen man ever. He was slim, but not in a bad way — he had the right amount of muscles and perfect height. Aemond possessed the type of beauty which did not decrease by losing an eye.
“A lie.” He growled, shaking his head.
You looked at him with the most innocent doe eyes. “I mean it. Losing an eye did not make you hideous, Aemond. You are still as beautiful as ever.”
He didn't respond and his impassive face told you that he was not phased by your genuine words but Aemond felt fucking butterflies nip at his stomach. His cock hardened even more if that were possible and he dropped you on the bed, continuing his assault. His hips snapped deliberately inside you, with newfound vigor and strength. You gasped out, your gummy walls tightening around his length as he drilled his cock inside you.
The compliment, the validation he'd received from you and how genuine it was — it drove him mad. Even his own mother failed to comfort him but you, the fucking preparator out of all people managed to. It angered him but also soothed over the burn you'd left.
Aemond felt his peak near, dancing around him and soon he reached it — his hips stuttering and his hot seed spurting inside you in ropes. “Fuck, fuck. I should fill you up and leave you here. A fucking whore with a Targaryen bastard.” You felt him taint your insides, leaving a mark that would always linger like how you'd left a scar on his face. Feeling his seed fill you up, you also unravelled as Aemond fucked the hot fluid into your womb, making sure you end up with a babe of his own.
Your eyes saw white and your thighs twitched, knees giving out and body finally colliding into the sheets. Yet Aemond continued thrusting, the wet squelching sound of your peak mixed with his grossing you out. Your tears had dried so more were released, going the same route as the ones from before.
You couldn't even resist anymore, nor rebel.
Aemond pulled his softened cock out of you and watched as your destroyed, gaping hole threw up his spent. It was hot and he shuddered at the thought of you swollen with his child.
He should've hated the idea of your breasts leaking with milk for his babe, swollen and peaked but instead he found himself aching to witness it in real life, not some fucked up imagination. He couldn't take you, as badly as he wished to. You were not his to keep but he was letting you go with a piece of him inside your womb.
He laid with you, but you'd not expected him to lay an arm over your small waist. Your body spent and completely frail from his monstrosity but Aemond wished for more, he craved more yet he gave you time to rejuvenate and collect yourself.
“Did you mean it?”
You raised your gaze at him, bemused.
“A-About me, being pretty. Did you mean it or was that also to deceive me?” He asked, failing to make eye contact. He stared ahead at the ceiling and you nodded your head slowly, throat parched. “I did. I would not lie about that.”
His chest swell up with an unfathomable feeling, something beyond his own understanding as he pulled you closer to him, subconsciously. Aemond was in a dilemma, confused about what had to be done. He wanted to be more cruel, more horrible but it was not in him to show you more cruelty than you deserved.
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dilfl0v3rss · 3 months
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"lets talk in person"
it was simple. you were to go to his apartment, say your peace, and call the relationship quits. not everyone who loves each other should be together. it’s okay that you and ony aren’t going to work out. you’ll take the time you need to heal and eventually find someone new.
that’s what you’ve been telling yourself over and over for the past five minutes as you threw on your short shorts and cropped hoodie, your pink french tip toes neatly slipping into your hello kitty slippers. you overlooked yourself in the mirror. the soft fabric of your shorts moved with every inch of your ass, sitting on top of it as a second skin, clearly showing your lack of underwear.
‘just talking in person’ you thought as you grabbed your car keys from your vanity and made your way outside. this felt familiar. the soft rumbling of your engine as well as the pitch black sky, littered with crystal like stars. you’ve been here many nights before, tears in your eyes and an argument on your tongue as you raced across town to his house. the latest time being when you saw pictures in his phone being sent to him by another girl. you still don't know her name since the contact was saved as your favorite restaurant to calm any suspicion.
this time there were no tears and the many questions and concerns in your mind have faded away. you know that talking in person probably isn't the best idea given that ony has a way with words and knows how to use his body to his advantage, but you knew if you didn't tell him it was over to his face he wouldn't take it seriously.
for the first time since you’ve met ony you weren’t nervous when you approached his front door. you held your head high as you left three knocks to signal that you’ve arrived. seconds went by as you listened to the heavy footsteps coming from the other side. you took a deep breath and kept your eyes forward as the door began to open.
your heart fluttered at the sight of him. you knew this man was fine, but he always seemed to have a little extra glow when he pissed you off. it was like he thrived off of making your life a living hell sometimes. his chocolate brown eyes stayed trained on yours as he moved to the side for you to enter. his milkly white nike socks sat snug on his feet, light grey sweatpants starting from his ankle, up his long legs, all the way to his v-line. his black polo tee was sitting perfectly on his beautifully sculpted body, accompanied by two gold chains resting on his broad chest.
"hey ma" he rubbed a wide hand up his chest as he spoke.
his face was serious, but you knew it was a facade. his smooth, dark skin looked freshly moisturized as if he had just showered. his bottom lip tucked behind his pearly white teeth, centimeters away from his growing goatee below it. ony has been a known manipulator for years, and you’re just like the other many woman that have found themself stuck in his trap. you were different from those other women though, much smarter.
“thanks” you mumbled, ignoring his greeting before moving past him and towards the couch. you fought with yourself about taking a second look at him, but decided against it, knowing that all it took was that one extra look and you’ll be back in his bed again. you heard ony chuckle at your attitude. "cute", he thought, closing the door before slowly making his way next to you on the couch. he gave you some room since it was often that he’d manspread like he was now. ony spread his legs wide as he slid his inked hands into the waistband of his sweats, his navy blue polo boxers making an appearance as the waistband of his sweats stretched over his fists. low eyes moved towards you and rested there, just taking in your presence as the two of you sat silently. ony's lack of words scared you since it was often that he’d start trying to get you to talk to him by now, but that wasn't happening.
you felt naked under his gaze, that nervousness quickly sneaking into you as you kept your eyes on his. he knew you were on the shyer side, always turning away when it came to holding eye contact or speaking up to him. this is what he fed on to get the upper hand on you, but you refused to let the same that's happened many times before happen today. “ion think we should be together no more ony.” you broke the silence, body finally finished wasting time to free the words your mind has been screaming since you walked into the door. your tone surprised ony, its sternest very foreign to him. you were ready for him to try to plead with you, try to hold your hand and tell you that he wanted to change. that was actually what you would’ve preferred, it would’ve helped you be able to actually leave because that's what you were expecting, but tonight isn’t really feeling like how they used to anymore.
ony didn’t say anything. his eyes just stayed on you, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he tilted his head to the side. a shiver ran down your spine as you watching his dark eyes move down your body, stopping right at your center before a small smirk crept onto his lips and he rejoined his eyes with yours. “so you leavin me, huh?” his deep voice caused his chest to rumble, the bass in it causing your thighs to tighten together. you gave him a small nod, only adding fuel to the fire as his head began to nod as well. “speak up mama" the sound of that nickname rolling off his tongue forced a rush of arousal to run through your body, stomach filled with butterflies as you adjusted yourself in your seat. why does he have to be so handsome?you wanted to just jump into his arms and let him take you, but that wasn't an option tonight. of course ony could tell you were fighting with yourself. he fought back a grin as his eyes traveled down to your tightly clenched thighs. you watched as his bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, his hunger rising in his gaze.
he rose from his seat on the couch, “ima give you the night to think it over, but you can grab some of your stuff tonight i guess.” the gold on his canines showed as he spoke win a bored tone, his hands moving from his sweatpants as he rose from the couch.
your eyes followed him, his 6’3 figure looming over you as you stay seated on the couch. he had the audacity to stretch like the situation was just another night for him, but you couldn’t stop yourself from staring right at him. ony’s lower stomach made an appearance as he stretched the muscles of his back, shirt riding up his stomach as a deep groan released from his throat. his visible tattoos ran from his neck all the way to his fingers. some of them he claimed represented you, but you doubt he hasn’t told other woman the same exact thing.
you watched him walk towards the bottom of the steps before turning facing you, dark brown eyes filled with mischief. “you coming baby?”
ony couldn’t bite back the smirk that overtook his features, his head tilting to the side as he raised a brow at you. you know this is a trap. if you go up those stairs you most definitely won’t be coming back down tonight. you’re sure that the rest of the women he’s been with have fell for the same exact thing and that’s why you knew it was time to leave.
ony is a liar and a manipulator. he is incapable of showing loyalty or commitment, and he shows no signs of potentially changing this behavior. he is the worst type of man a woman can involve herself with and he deserves to be left standing at the bottom of the steps as you walk away from him and this toxic situation you called a relationship. he deserves to be treated the same way you were and worse.
you aren’t like the other woman he’s been with. you knew it and he knew it. you were much smarter and were quicker to pick up on his schemes. you were much more logical than the rest.
“uh huh, there you go. loosen her up f’me” the base in his voice ran straight to your core as ony fucked you slowly in missionary. your legs were spread wide, each and every inch of him stroking you as pretty whines flowed from your lips. he watched you hungrily, dark brown eyes raking up and down your body before landing on your face. “look so pretty” he mumbled as he watched your face contort into many ones of pleasure, "o-oh my god"
within the first ten minutes of you being in his room you managed to get a pair of panties and a brush into your bag before you found yourself with his face between your legs. his long tongue making quick work of licking and eating whatever anger you had left before spreading your legs wide and feeding you every inch of his dick.
ony’s pace was quick, snatching loud moans from you before his wide, inked hands found purchase on the bottoms of your thighs. “you love me mama?” before you could reply, he slowly pushed your thighs towards your chest, listening to you breathlessly moan at his newfound angle. “hmmyea” your eyes began to roll, every sentence you’ve thought of saying dissolved on your tongue as he leaned down closer towards your face. “oh really? why you jus try to leave me den? youn love daddy no more” ony couldn’t stop his smirk from widening as you watched you panic beneath him. whiney, breathless begs flowed from your kiss-bruised lips as your walls tightened around him.
“was stupid, love you papa, o-only you” you looked up at him, brown doe eyes fighting not to roll back as your lips curved into an adorable pout, you were stunning. ony’s dick began to twitch at the sight, an orgasm threatening to approach causing his breathing to quicken. “maybe i should put a baby in you. that should set you straight right?” you were so fucked out you barely could register his words. your mindless nodding being evidence of that. your lack of comprehension only turned ony on more as he began to push himself deeper into you, his pace quickening even more as he began to pound you into the mattress.
“you my stupid lil princess ain’t you, so damn beautiful” ony chuckled at the sight of you. it wasn’t too long ago you were sitting on his couch telling him you were ready to call it quits. now here you are not even an hour later in the middle of his bed milking him for everything he had. you weren’t like the other girls, that was true. you weren’t oblivious to the things he did and you weren’t gullible either. you had a good head on your shoulders. other girls don’t think when it comes to ony, but that’s what makes you so much worse.
ony is a liar and a manipulator. he is incapable of showing loyalty or commitment, and he shows no signs of potentially changing this behavior. but while other woman mindlessly fall into his games, you knew all this and still choose to stay, letting his wide, dark hands roam and caress your body as he fed you each and every inch of him at a steady pace.
you nodded along to every word he uttered, not a single thought going through your brain as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. "now tell daddy you sorry and promise not to do no dumb shit like that again." ony's hand slowly snaked up your body, stopping right at your throat before slowly squeezing it tighter and tighter. he slowed his strokes, hovering you right over the brink of your orgasm. he couldn't help a devilish smirk from spreading across his features as he listened to your pretty voice struggle not to break as you spoke. "sorry f'trying t'leave you daddy and- ah!" your sentence was cut off by a quick, hard trust of his hips, his dick reaching your deepest parts with a quickness as he tightened his grip on your throat. "let daddy hear you ma, use that big girl voice you had when we was downstairs."
you grew restless at the sound of his deep, commanding voice. he watched as you whimpered, tonging swiping over his bottom lip as he moved his face closer to yours. "m'listening" his hips didn't miss a beat, brown eyes staring deep into yours as your lips parted for you to speak. "m'sorry for tryna l-leave you daddy, won't do it again p-promise." as you spoke ony's hips moved rougher. his hand quickly finding your lower stomach before giving it a gentle push. "o-oh my god onyy" your back arched off the bed as your orgasm shook through your body. ony swallowed your moans, brown lips dancing with yours as his tongue asserted its dominance in your mouth.
your spit kept your lips connected as ony slowly moved his face from yours. he took in your fucked out state, eyes rolled back, lips swollen from the many kisses you've shared, not a single argument on your tongue nor a thought in your head. nothing but ony clouding your mind as he dug you out in ways he knew you'd never be able to find anywhere else. he had you right where he wanted and by the looks of the delirious, fucked out smile spreading to your lips you wouldn't even remember what you were mad about in the morning. ony fucked you a little harder and a smirk crept onto his face at the sight.
"my stupid lil princess"
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ace-turned-confused · 4 months
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sea spray | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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joel masterlist
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summary: a relaxing weekend break by the sea is just what you need, but spending it under the same roof as joel miller might not be the kind of relaxing you had in mind word count: 3,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, smut, m masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, spitting, creampie, overstimulation, joel's filthy mouth, praise kink, size kink a/n: i actually did spend the past weekend by the sea, unfortunately without joel miller 😔 written for @mermaidgirl30's Ocean Challenge! of course it took the entire timeframe of your challenge for inspiration to strike, but it was super fun! 🩵 big hugs to @morallyinept for beta'ing & the kind words, your message legit put the biggest grin on my face LMAO ily 💜
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Going away with your parents for a long weekend is just what you need — walks along the cliff path, cocktails on the beach, lounging in the sun. Plus the bonus of free accommodation and your meals being paid for. You’re long overdue for a break and this will be a good change of scenery.
The bricks burn through your sandals as you unload your bags. Midday sun blazing down on you, you’re desperate for a cold shower after two hours of traffic to get here.
“Hello?”
You’re met with silence as you push open the front door, a rare breeze coming through the windows. They must’ve gone into town. Kicking off your shoes, you pad through to your room at the back of the house and dump your bags.
You peel your clothes off and run a shower, washing off the sweat and stress of the morning. Unpacking your bags, most of your weekend attire is swimsuits and dresses; you’ll just be floating around the house the rest of the day and decide on a blue and white check bikini, pulling on plain linen shorts.
Making your way upstairs, the rest of the house is still, the only sound coming from slow waves rolling against the rocks. Kelp bobs up and down in the swell and wispy clouds dot the sky, you pull your phone out to snap some pictures to send to your friends, relishing in the tranquillity.
You hear muted footsteps and turn around, expecting to see your parents come up the stairs. Instead, you’re met with Joel Miller — your dad's best friend with nothing but a thin towel hanging low on his hips.
“Oh! Didn’t uh- didn’t hear you come in sweetheart.”
Your eyes flicker down as he adjusts his towel — he clears his throat and you snap your eyes back up to his face.
“I got in about half an hour ago, I just got out of the shower. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Your old man told me to come up for the weekend, he didn’t mention what time they’d be back this afternoon though.”
You nod and turn to look outside again, the image of Joel in his towel now burned into your mind. You don’t ask him about it — no possible explanation would stop your mind from wandering.
You were much younger the last time you saw him — just a sweet girl harbouring an innocent crush on a handsome man. Now you’re far from sweet, and that crush is far from innocent. This is the most you’ve ever seen of him — greying curls in every direction, wide chest into a soft tummy, dark trail of hair below his navel disappearing beneath his towel.
You can feel a wet spot forming on your bikini bottoms — so much for a relaxing weekend.
-
Joel’s seen you in passing and heard about your various achievements and adventures from your parents, but it’s been years since he spent so much time with you in such close quarters. He can’t remember you being so… grown up.
Seeing you stand there in just your bikini, your eyes flitting down to his towel, he almost instantly began to harden. Maybe some light conversation will calm him down.
“So, what you got planned for the rest of the day?”
You turn to face him again and he takes a steadying breath.
“I was gonna head down to the beach but it’s fucking hot out, so I think I’ll just be lazy here instead.”
“Pool’s nice if you’re keen on a swim.”
You slink past to head downstairs, stopping in front of him to look up at him.
“You wanna join me?”
“Think I’ll uh, sit this one out. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”
Scratching at the nape of his neck as you descend the stairs, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this weekend. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this — you’re young, spritely, his best friend’s daughter — but he watches out the window anyway as you pull down your shorts, glass in hand, and dip down into the water.
He sneaks off to his room before you can notice.
-
Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head tilted to the ceiling, he’s already fully hard. He lets the towel fall open and wraps a hand around his throbbing cock. He shouldn’t do this, but who’s going to know?
Stroking himself with long, slow pumps, he closes his eyes and all he can see is you. Ass peeking out the edge of your bottoms, your tits spilling out your bikini top, so much skin. You sighed as you sat down in the water, a breathy, satiated sound — he wishes he could make those sounds spill from your mouth.
Precome leaking from his tip, he’s reaching his end embarrassingly fast. Speeding up to fist himself tightly, he imagines your hand wrapped around his cock instead. He imagines burying his tongue, fingers, cock into your cunt, tight and wet and his to have however he pleases.
It takes just one, two, three more strokes of his cock and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a moan as he comes, spilling milky ropes across his hand and lower stomach. Using the same towel to clean up his mess, he tells himself he won’t do this again, he can’t do this again.
He shifts up to lean against the headboard as he comes down from his high, deciding to stay clear of you until your parents get home. Keeping you out of sight is the best way forward, even if he can’t keep you out of his mind.
-
You spend the rest of the day in the pool, nursing a Long Island iced tea and paging through your book. Joel doesn’t show face again, but it’s for the best — you can’t stop thinking about that damn towel and how easily it could slip down.
Your phone rings and pulls you from your daydreaming; you haul yourself out of the pool and pat yourself dry, fingertips wrinkled from the water. You see it’s your mom calling, and slide to answer.
You don’t get a chance to say hello and she’s bombarding you with questions.
“Hi, sweetie! How was the drive? I hope you didn’t have too much traffic. Oh! And did you see Joel? He’s with us for the weekend, maybe he went out for the day too.”
You certainly did see Joel. You still can even with your eyes closed.
“Hi, Mom. The drive was fine, and Joel’s been here the whole day.”
“That’s nice. I hope you don’t mind, you two always got along well so your father didn’t think to tell you beforehand. Listen, why don’t you and Joel come through to town for dinner with us? I’ll send you the restaurant name.”
“Yeah, okay sure. See you soon.”
“Bye, sweetie. See you.”
She hangs up the phone and you venture inside to find Joel, heading towards the spare room. Pressing your ear to the door, you don’t hear any movement. Maybe he’s sleeping.
“Joel?” You knock on the door and hear rustling, he responds a few moments later.
“Yeah? You can- you can come in.”
You nudge the door open and he’s sitting up in bed, sheets pulled to the same height his towel was hanging earlier and it takes everything you have not to stare, debate if he’s still got that towel on or is stark naked.
Stepping just over the threshold, you lean against the wall to steady yourself and focus your eyes on his face.
“My mom called, she said we must go into town to meet them for dinner. She texted me the address.”
“Sounds good, I can drive us. I’ll just uh, get ready.”
You nod and retreat from his room in silence — you’ll be able to hold a conversation once he’s fully clothed.
-
Tonight’s restaurant is right along the shoreline, carved into the cliffside. It’s a good climb down the hillside and you’re glad you’re wearing flats, mentally noting to go easy on the drinks tonight to make it back up again. Gentle waves lap against the rocks and the sea breeze is just the refresher you need after a hot summer day.
You’ve changed into a strappy dress, the hemline falling just above your knees and Joel’s in a loose button-down and board shorts. Your parents are sitting across from you, and they’d spent the better part of an hour asking you about work and romantic prospects.
Once satisfied with your answers, they turn to focus on each other, leaving you and Joel to your own devices. With them both engrossed in conversation, you try and test the waters.
You shift your legs under the table and bump your knee into Joel’s — his hand falters as he scoops more food onto his spoon, but doesn’t pull away. You push further, pressing your thigh against his and he stills completely, peering at you out of the corner of his eye.
The unfortunate combination of the summer heat and your heavy hand when pouring your drink earlier has made you fearless. You snake a hand below the table, resting it dangerously close to the growing bulge in his shorts.
He drops his spoon, catching your dad’s attention.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, uh… Yeah, fine.” He swallows and gives them a tight smile, waiting for them to continue their conversation.
“What the hell are you doin’?” Joel practically hisses at you under his breath, eyes flashing in your direction.
You ignore him and flatten your hand, unsure if the heat you can feel is radiating from him or yourself. You continue moving upwards, the tips of your fingers brushing against the outline of his cock.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whisper back to him, unmoving in your chair.
You start palming him through his shorts, angling your head to look at him and a fresh wave of arousal floods your panties.
“Sweetheart, you can’t be doin’ this. Not here.”
“Say stop and I will.”
His eyes flutter closed, taking in a shaky breath. It feels like he’s already fully hard.
Just when you think you’ve won, your parents stand up and you rip your hand away, heart racing in your chest. Caught up in your teasing you hadn’t noticed they’d finished dessert and paid the bill. You look at your dad with wide eyes, hoping nobody saw anything.
“Nice dinner, everyone. Good to have you here, kiddo. We’ll see you back at the house, been a long day.”
“Um, yeah, we’ll follow you guys.” You hope you sound less startled than you feel. 
He rounds the table, a hand coming down on your and Joel’s shoulders and he walks off. You and Joel stand to follow him — your mind foggy with lust, you can feel his eyes burn into you, but you don’t dare look at him.
-
Arriving home after a charged car ride with Joel, your parents say goodnight and their door shuts behind them. The room falls silent, you’re unsure who will make the first move. Joel grabs onto your arm, dragging you through the house.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna finish what you started.”
He pulls your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Pushing you onto your bed, his eyes trail up and down your figure as you lie before him.
“What were you doing all afternoon? Didn’t see you at all.”
“You wanna know what I was doing?”
You nod and he leans down to speak into your ear, voice low and raspy.
“I was thinkin’ of you, baby. That skimpy little bikini of yours got me all hard, so instead of spendin’ my time out by the beach, I was jacking off in my room and all I could think of was you.”
A shiver runs down your spine, a small whine escaping at his words.
“Thought a lotta things about how you’d be, now we’re gonna see how much of it is true.”
He pushes you down to lie on your back, pulling your panties down. You try to cross your legs out of habit and he grabs your knees, spreading you open before him.
“Now we’re shy, are we? Don’t want me seeing this pretty pussy?”
He cups you entirely and you tilt your hips, chasing the friction of his palm against your clit.
“After that little game you played just now, you’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna enjoy it.”
He wraps his arms under your legs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees, draping one leg over each of his shoulders. You look down at him and he stares into your eyes, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad stripe up through your folds. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling in tight circles and your head falls back against the bed.
“Oh, fuck, Joel.”
He chuckles into you, causing you to moan again.
“Better than the boys you normally go out with?”
He doesn’t give you time to answer, tongue circling your clit again and he drags his fingers up and down, coating them in your arousal. Pushing two fingers into your cunt, the stretch is already far more than with your own — you’re not sure how you’ll ever satisfy yourself after this.
He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them upwards and you feel heat spreading across your abdomen, your legs just beginning to tremble. You move your hands into his hair, tugging on his curls and he groans against you, speeding up his movements.
“You gonna come for me?”
“Please, Joel. Oh, god, please.”
“Go on then, come. I know you can.”
You tighten your grip on his hair, legs going stiff as you come on his fingers and his movements don’t stop, tongue flicking back and forth over your clit, fingers fucking into you relentlessly to drag out your high. With no chance to recover, he pushes a third finger into you, his pace never faltering.
“Joel, please. It’s too much.”
He pulls off from you just enough to speak, a devilish grin on his face.
“Say stop and I will. I told you you were gonna take what I gave you.”
Mouth latching onto you again, he ignores your protesting, eyes boring into your own. You can see him rutting into the side of the bed and your moans turn into whines and whimpers, the heat pooling at the base of your spine more intense than before.
“Come on, sweetheart, be a good girl for me.”
Pushing his free hand down onto you, he curls his fingers inside of you, grazing over that one spongy spot and your vision blurs. You dig your heels into his back, hips lifting off the bed as you come again, a warm stream of liquid soaking his beard that’s scratching at your inner thighs.
Chest heaving as you come down, he pulls his fingers out and sucks one into his mouth, licking it clean.
“Better than I imagined.”
He leans over you, shoving his other two sticky fingers into your mouth and you whine at tasting yourself on him.
“All that messing around and look where it got you.”
He unbuttons his shirt agonisingly slowly, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes are blown wide, beard slick with your release as he trails his fingertips up and down your leg, the small hairs standing in his wake. You close your legs and flop back onto the bed, already feeling spent.
“Just one more thing I needa see for myself.”
Finally pulling his shorts down, that tantalising trail of hair you saw this morning spreads into wiry curls surrounding the base of his cock. He’s bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, fully stiff as he takes himself in his hand with long strokes — thick, throbbing, and precome pearling from his tip.
“Are you gonna fuck my mouth?”
He draws circles into your leg, still stroking himself.
“Not this time. Wanna feel how tight this pussy’s gonna squeeze my cock.”
Not this time. You clench around nothing in anticipation, and he starts crawling up the bed to you.
“Be good and maybe we can use that mouth of yours another day.”
Propping yourself up on your elbows, Joel drags himself through your wetness, nudging the tip of his cock against your clit.
“Gonna be a tight fit, sweetheart. Might just ruin this cunt for anyone else.”
He lines himself up with your entrance, both of your eyes locked on where you join. Pushing in just past his tip, your mouth falls open with a strangled moan.
“Warned you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” All you do is whimper in response.
“Gonna feel even better.”
He sheaths himself completely inside of you, hair at his base pressed against your clit and balls pressed against your ass. It’s the most stretched out you’ve ever been — it’s also the best you’ve ever felt and he hasn’t even started moving.
He leans over you and starts grinding his hips, pulling your bra down. Pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, he takes the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue just the same as before.
You lock your ankles behind his back, legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if you’d float away. He lifts his head, a trail of spit connecting his lips to your breast. Bringing a hand up to your face, he squeezes your cheeks to force your mouth open, looking into your eyes as he spits into the back of your throat.
You moan quietly, clenching around his length and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.
“Dirty girl. You let other boys spit into your mouth, too?”
You shake your head clumsily and tighten your legs, trying your hardest to grind yourself against him.
“What’s wrong, baby? What happened to it’s too much?”
He straightens up and pries your legs off him, pressing them into your chest. His eyes are dark as he watches how you squirm and stretch around him. He angles his head forward, letting another string of saliva fall from his mouth onto your cunt and it drips down around his cock.
Using two fingers, he puts slight pressure on your clit but doesn’t move.
“You’re gonna come on my cock, and then I’m gonna come inside you. Understand?”
You’re not sure how to string words together on your own accord anymore, clit throbbing and cunt stretched out, mind filled with just Joel.
“Hey, repeat after me, come on: I’m gonna be a good girl.”
“I’m gonna be a… a good girl.”
“Next: I’m gonna come on your big cock.”
“I’m gonna come- on your big cock.”
“And to finish off: You’re gonna come inside me.”
“You’re… gonna come inside me.”
“Was that so difficult?”
He readjusts his grip on your legs and starts pounding into you, the force of his thrusts shifting you up and down, your clit rubbing against his steady fingers. Your moans are only broken by the need for more air, your voice becoming hoarse and getting higher and higher in pitch as he keeps going harder.
You start clamping down on him, the day’s heat and your teasing and the way he’s using you relentlessly quickly becoming too much.
“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl. Come one last time for me and I’ll fill you up.”
His words push you over the edge and he keeps fucking into you as you come. You reach down to hold onto him, your hands wrapping around his arm and you dig your nails into his skin, carving out crescent moons.
Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear him grunting, his resolve finally breaking after a few more thrusts as he spills inside of you, your walls coated in his spend as the warmth spreads throughout your body. He loosens his hold on your legs, bringing them down and massages your tired muscles.
Pulling out of you, you feel his come slowly leak out and down your folds, landing in thick droplets on the sheets. You turn onto your side, sleep already creeping up on you and he drops down behind you, his chest pressed against your back and softening cock against your ass.
“We’re going to the beach tomorrow, and I wanna see what other little outfits you got with you. Try another game like you did tonight, though, and I’m gonna have to put you in your place again.”
You huff a laugh, a gentle, satisfied smile on your face. This long weekend is suddenly far more exciting than you prepared for.
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comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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lewisvinga · 7 months
Text
around the world | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; influencer y/n decides to do the trend of showing off her outfits with lewis as they traveled around the world.
warnings; none ??
word count; 815
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
note; requested! this was longer than expected😭😭
masterlist !
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“Okay, ready?” Y/n questions after setting up her phone on the desk in their room. They were currently in their hotel room in Las Vegas, almost ready to leave for the opening of the Las Vegas Grand Prix when she got the idea to shoot the tiktok.
“Wait, what do I do again?” Lewis asked with a chuckle, smoothing down the long black coat he wore on top of a black top with a deep v-neck.
“I showed you like 20 times, Lew.”
“Was too distracted by your pretty face.”
Y/n playfully rolls her eyes, ignoring the blush on her face as she holds one hand out. “Just clap my hand while crossing your legs at the same time.” She explains while copying the motion.
Since they were known as a fashionable couple who always matched, she wore a similar outfit to his but in a dress form. She wore a midi tight black dress with a v-neck and a matching black coat. They both wore their matching pearl necklaces from Valentino and even had matching sunglasses. She of course had her black mini Kelly in hand, an anniversary gift from him from a couple years prior.
“Ready, Lew?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, gorgeous.”
Y/n puts on the countdown and takes a couple steps back to make sure their full outfits are in the frame. The moment the song began, she held her hand out and Lewis did exactly what she explained to him.
“Perfect, now I just gotta remember when we go to Abu Dhabi.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Okay, now we do the same but in these outfits,” Y/n explains again, adjusting her phone in his driver's room. Fortunately, she was quick to remember to record the next part of her TikTok.
They both wore baggy red pants but Lewis wore a white Mercedes shirt while she just wore a plain white blouse with a white Lady Dior in hand.
“Same thing as last week, right?” He asked with a smile as she began the timer.
“Exactly!” She nods in reply, her smile matching his. The song began to play and they copied the same movement they did the week before. Once it was over, she quickly grabbed her phone to check the footage. “Oh, this is gonna be amazing once we finish!”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Roscoe, sit,” Lewis tells the bulldog who wore a wide smile. They both watch as Y/n props up her phone on the front porch of their home in England.
The ground was white with snow and the sky let more snowflakes fall. They were wearing layers upon layers due to the freezing temperatures. Of course, they had matching navy blue jackets, and even Roscoe wore a matching vest. Their pants were both black but he wore black boots while she opted for navy boots.
She adjusts the grey scarf she wore that matches his as she starts the timer. “Roscoe, smile for the camera!” She exclaimed, rushing over to stand on the other side of the dog.
Roscoe was seemingly posing as the song began once again, and again Lewis and Y/n did the same movement.
“Roscoe is gonna look so good in that one!” He lets out a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he bends down to pet his bulldog’s head.
“He’s such a good boy, aren’t you, Roscoe?”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Ending it with Brazil?”
“To let the fans know it’s our honeymoon.” Y/n replies in a ‘duh’ tone. She smiled at him and glanced at their matching outfit once again. Lewis had decided to take his braids out and wear his natural curls for the summer, something he usually does when he isn’t racing.
His honey-brown curls were tied into a low bun and covered by a blue hat. He wore an oversized yellow Nike shirt and an earth-green tone pair of baggy pants. Y/n opted for wearing a skirt the same color and a blue Christian Dior tote bag instead of the cap. She also wore a yellow Nike top but it was fitted instead of loose.
It was one of her favorite outfits in one of their favorite countries. Brazil was always special to him and it became special to her, hence their honeymoon location.
“Okay, last one, and be ready!” She exclaims, pressing the countdown once again.
Lewis couldn’t help but stare at her with adoration in his eyes and a loving smile as they did the same moves for the last part of her video. He can already see all the comments they’d get on how he stared at her but he honestly couldn’t care.
He zoned out as he watched Y/n get excited over the video. He was eternally grateful that he was able to go around the world with his wife by his side.
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x-heesy · 1 year
Text
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„Heaven is on earth“ 🌎 (hell sadly 2 😂)
𝗣𝗨𝗥𝗥𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝝠 𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛 / 𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝝠 𝗧𝗥𝝠𝗣 / 𝗕𝗥𝗘𝝠𝗞 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 / 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜𝝝𝗡 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 / 𝗖𝗛𝝝𝝝𝗦𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗬 / 𝗪𝗘𝗜𝗥𝗗 𝗜𝗦 𝝠 𝗖𝝝𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 / 𝗡𝝝𝗧𝗘 𝗧𝝝 𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙 / 𝗬𝝝𝗨 𝝠𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝝝𝝠𝗗 /𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦𝝠𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗕𝗜𝗚𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 / 𝗠𝗬 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗗𝝝 / 𝗟𝝝𝗩𝗘 & 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝝝𝗩𝗘 / 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 & 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 / 𝗞𝗘𝗘𝗣 𝗜𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗘 / 𝗞𝗘𝗘𝗣 𝗜𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝝠𝗟 / 𝗩𝗘𝗧𝝝 / 𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗠𝝝𝝝𝗗 𝗕𝝝𝝠𝗥𝗗 /𝗣𝗨𝗡𝗞𝗦𝝠𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗗𝗘𝝠𝗗 ​/ 𝗡𝝝 𝗚𝝝𝗗𝗦 𝗡𝝝 𝗠𝝠𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 / 𝗣𝗥𝝝 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗠𝗙𝗭 / 𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗬𝗦𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥𝗭 𝗡𝝝𝗧 𝗪𝗘𝗟(𝗟) 𝗖𝗨𝗠 / 𝗧𝝝 𝝠𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝝠 𝗟𝗨𝗩𝝠𝗭 (“Untitled“ by | Kristina Makeeva) 📷
#justanfriendlyreminder 🌸 🏔️
#thelittlethingsarethebigthings 🔎
#autosuggestion #pointofview #codingyourself #programyourself #endlessness #creatingyourself #neverstoplearning !!!!
#fantasy #empathy #equality #respect #love #basics ✔️
#textart #artfulquotes #typography #expressyourself #iphoneart #newcontemporary #popart #artsyfartsy #artfuckery
#quotes #quotesdaily #quotestoliveby #quotestagram #quotesaboutlife #quotesoftheday #quotestags #quotesgram #motivationalquotes #quotesandsayings #quoteslover #quotesofinstagram #quotesforlife #quotestoinspire #quotestoremember #quotestag #quotesilove #inspirationalquotes #lovequotes #quotesaboutlifequotesandsayings #successquotes #dailyquotes #lifequotes #quotesforyou #positivequotes #quotes4you #quotesaboutlove #instaquotes #quoteslife #quoteslove #qotd
Soundtrack: Kisses For Roses by Art Department, Aquarius Heaven &
What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong
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mcumorningstar · 2 months
Text
Prove It, Cowboy
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pairing: dodge mason x reader
summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)
a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3
A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.
A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”
Shit.
“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”
Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.
After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.
Dodge came to the rescue.
A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.
A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.
God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“
She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.
Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.
“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.
“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.
His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”
“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”
Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”
She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.
Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.
With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.
The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.
The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.
His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”
Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.
“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.
“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”
Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.
Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”
There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.
Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”
Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.
“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”
“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.
“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”
“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.
“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.
“Yeah?”
You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”
You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.
One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.
Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.
Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?
Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.
“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”
Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.
In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.
A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.
Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.
Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.
Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.
You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.
Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.
“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”
Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.
With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.
Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”
Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.
Thank you, saddle bronc.
His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.
Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.
Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.
A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.
Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.
Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.
"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.
With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.
Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.
Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.
Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.
Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.
"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."
Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."
A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.
Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.
Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.
Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.
Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.
A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.
The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.
Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.
Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.
A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.
Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.
"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."
He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.
"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.
You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.
White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.
Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.
Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.
His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."
Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."
Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.
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streamofcolors · 1 month
Text
𝔐𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲.
Cregan Stark x Reader.
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Summary: Your husband, Cregan, has been preoccupied with his duties, neglecting you in the process. He makes up for it in a delightful way.
Warnings: SMUT (mdni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), mutual orgasm.
Author's note: I must admit I'm petrified about posting this. It has been ages since I've written, but this gorgeous man has sparked my imagination. I hope you all enjoy! 🖤
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You find yourself pacing back and forth in your chamber, unable to find rest. The pale blue sky of the day has transformed into a somber, dark canvas. Stars illuminate the sky like snowflakes in the night.
Cregan has been preoccupied with his duties as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, resulting in a lack of attention to you. And you could never begrudge him for it; his duties came first. That is something you came to terms with a long time ago. But, oh, how you desire his attention.
You succumb to your desires and slip your robe over your nightgown before crossing the hall to Cregan’s chamber.
“Who is it?” grumbles Cregan, who is taking a bath when he hears a knock at the door.
“It is I, your wife,” you say softly, leaning your forehead against the door as you silently pray Cregan will grant you entrance.
Cregan raises an eyebrow as you speak. He had assumed it was one of his servants. "Come in," he replies, readjusting himself in the tub.
With a sigh of relief, you open the door and enter the chamber. The pleasant aroma of the bath envelops your senses, creating a soothing atmosphere. Your breath hitches at the sight of Cregan in his tub, his bare, chiseled chest protruding from the water.
“To what do I owe your presence at this hour?” Cregan asks as you approach his side.
You kneel alongside the tub and gently take the sponge from Cregan’s grasp. “You’ve been awfully preoccupied lately,” you point out cautiously, scrubbing his shoulder for him. You can see the wheels turning in Cregan’s head as he thinks about how to respond. He can sense your frustration.
“Duty is sacrifice,” he sighs, his gaze softening. Though he would never admit it, the last few days have been tiring.
You hum in agreement. “I am aware of that, my love. But that does not change the fact that I miss my husband.”
Cregan’s lips twitch upward into a grin. “You miss me? I am right here.”
You grin and huff, “Not in that way, Cregan.”
Cregan gently grasps your forearm, halting your scrubbing. “C’mere,” he says softly as he gently tugs on you.
He slips the robe off your shoulders, leaving you in your nightgown. He guides you into the bathtub with him, unconcerned about soaking your nightgown.
As you sink into the tub with Cregan, your nightgown becomes clingy, the thin fabric immediately soaked through and rendered translucent by the water. Cregan's eyes roam over your figure, taking in the way the water has made the fabric cling to your curves, accentuating every contour. He reaches out, his hands finding your hips and slowly guiding you to sit on his lap, facing him. The water ripples gently around you, lapping against your skin.
“Tell me, in what way does my dear wife miss me, then?”
You awkwardly place your hands on Cregan’s chest, a scarlet flush creeping up your cheeks as you silently curse yourself for being so bold as to come here.
“You haven’t summoned me to your chambers in days,” you whisper so softly that it is barely audible.
Cregan snickers, attempting to maintain composure for your sake. “Come on now, love, don’t get all shy on me.”
“I have missed you too. You have no idea how much it pains me to spend so much time apart,” he consoles you as his thumb caresses your hip comfortingly.
“How about this? Tonight, I am all yours,” Cregan says in a husky voice as he raises your face by your chin in a gentle manner.
Your gaze flickers from Cregan’s grey eyes to his lips. The subtle gesture is all the confirmation he needs, prompting Cregan to delicately press his lips against yours.
You shriek against his lips as he rises, holding you in his muscular arms. He carries you to his bed with ease, leaving a trail of water droplets on the stone floor.
Cregan chuckles as he drops you on his bed, watching you bounce. You are soaking the furs, but he could not care less. He gets to his knees at the foot of the bed and pulls you down to the edge.
"I've been neglecting you," he murmurs against your calf, kissing his way up your bare leg.
His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against your sensitive skin. Your soaked nightgown is bunched up at your waist. You can feel the soft tickle of his breath on your thigh, your fingers carding through his hair as he hovers near your core.
“Forgive me,” he murmurs before placing what he often referred to as a “northerner’s kiss” on your bundle of nerves.
Cregan’s tongue moves with precision, finding every sensitive spot that makes you whimper and writhe. Your hips begin to move in sync with his mouth, craving more of the delightful sensations he is giving you.
Cregan begins to suckle on your bundle of nerves, his eyes locked on your face as you let out a sharp gasp. Your fingers tug at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from him.
His fingers tease your entrance, delicately circling before gently pushing inside. The sensation of fullness feels overwhelming, causing you to arch your back and cry out.
His fingers move in sync with the movements of his mouth, curled inside of you, pushing you closer to the edge.
“Cregan, please,” you beg needily.
“I know, love, I know” he says as he rises from his knees.
Cregan's lips press against yours, your flavour lingering on his tongue. He guides you up on the bed, positioning himself at your throbbing entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist, gasping as he begins to push inside of you.
The pleasure is palpable as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. Cregan groans, his forehead resting against yours as he comes to a halt, allowing you to adjust to him.
“By the gods, you feel so good,” he whispers, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back.
Cregan moves slowly, his thrusts deep and deliberate, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your gasps and moans blend to create a symphony of pleasure that resonates off the stone walls.
"Cregan," you gasp, your voice trembling from the intensity. "I'm close."
"Me too," he replies, his breath hot against your ear. "Come with me, love."
He moves his hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your bundle of nerves and rubbing it in circles. With a final, deep thrust, he pushes you over the edge, your peak washing over you in a powerful wave. You cry out his name, your body trembling with pleasure as he follows you into ecstasy, his own release filling you up.
One of Cregan’s hands is tenderly cradling your head as he gazes down at you in awe, admiring your afterglow.
“Do you still miss me, dear wife?”
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starsallalight · 1 year
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Open to Danielle
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"First I am arrogant, and now I have no pride, however do I manage that?"
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familyvideostevie · 10 months
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steel drum weight of me
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joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni
summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k
warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie
a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.
__
Jackson looks its best in the winter.
You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.
It's also fucking cold.
But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.
Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.
Things could be worse.
You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.
Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.
You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.
The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.
"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"
"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.
The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.
The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.
He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.
"How was the wall?"
"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"
"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"
He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."
You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.
"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.
"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.
"Hey now, what --"
You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"
He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.
The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.
And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.
It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.
"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.
"I'm fine --"
"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"
"I said I'm --"
"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.
"Alright," he says. "Move, then."
You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.
"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."
Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.
"What's it made of?"
"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."
He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."
You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.
"Cute."
"Gimme those hands, big guy."
The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.
"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"
"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.
"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."
He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."
You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.
And, boy, he touches you back.
So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.
Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.
"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."
"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.
"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."
"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"
You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.
"What? Can't hear over the water."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."
"Don't think that's what you said."
"It's what I meant."
And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.
"Alright," he says.
You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.
Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"
"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."
"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"
"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"
"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.
So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.
"You just gonna look at it?"
You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.
Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.
"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.
It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.
Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.
You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.
He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."
"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.
He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."
You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.
"So is that a no?"
You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.
"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.
"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.
"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.
Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --
The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.
You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.
"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."
He laughs.
His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.
"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"
"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"
"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"
His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.
Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.
You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Hell of a salve," he manages.
You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."
His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."
"You never stop, do you?"
Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."
You laugh into his neck. "Good."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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msgexymunson · 1 year
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Forbidden Fruit
Description: The newest object of your affections happens to be Eddie; your father's closest friend!
A/N: this is just smut personified and I ain't even sorry. Enjoy it with caution, hells saving a mighty fine warm spot for you ;). 
Warnings: age gap, Eddie's in his forties, reader implied 20s. Voyeurism, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (wrap the thingy, trust me I'm old) 
5k words
Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Delicate fingers are slipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts. You stroke at your soft skin, running in teasing patterns. Your body begins to react to your secret touches, downy hairs starting to stand on end as your skin prickles with sensation. Then your hand drifts lower, lower, until it meets your pubic hair. Massaging your breast with your other hand you try to relax and empty your mind, just focus on the feeling. Not that it works. All you see when you close your eyes is Eddie. 
This is wrong. So fucking wrong. He was at least 20 years your senior. Hell, he was one of your father's closest friends. It may as well be forbidden. He probably thinks of you more like a daughter than a lover. 
You couldn't help it though. Recently he was just looking so damn fine. You're not sure if it was just him getting better with age, or you growing up and appreciating the man in front of you. Either way, woof. 
Your fingers find your clit as you think back to earlier today; the events of which hadn't been much help in quenching your mounting feelings. It had been a lovely day, the sun was beating down and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Eddie and your father had teamed up to do some of the yard work. Eddie was always on hand to help with any manual labour, or to fix things. He was really very good with those hands. 
Well, it was a beautiful day, so sunbathing seemed perfectly acceptable behaviour, and not an excuse to be in the yard at all. Nuh uh. You'd headed outside in your skimpy red bikini, book in hand, and laid on a lounger keeping one eye on Eddie. 
God, he'd looked particularly good today. His hair was grasped in a messy bun with a shock of grey and white visible through it. His stubble looked a few days old, peppering his chin and sharp jaw. Those eyes of his sparkled, a deep chocolate brown you wanted to dive into. Jeans clung to his muscular thighs, only wearing an old wife beater on top, showing off his tattoos and chiselled arms. There was a brief moment when he'd lifted up his vest to use it to wipe the sweat from his brow. Abs had gleamed in the midday sun, flexing and taunting you on purpose, or at least it had felt that way. 
When your father had gone inside to grab them both a beer, Eddie had sauntered over to you and crouched right by your lounger. You had done everything you could to keep your face neutral, even though your head was screaming and flinging its metaphorical hands in the air. 
"Hey sweetheart." 
The gravel in his voice sent shivers down your spine. 
"Hey Mr Munson." You responded, trying to keep your eyes on your book. 
"How many times I gotta tell ya? Call me Eddie." 
You glanced over and saw a slow grin creeping across his face, as he eyed you up and down. Is he checking me out? 
Tearing his eyes away, he spoke again. 
"So, where's the little boyfriend today?" 
"What? Oh, him. We broke up. He was… selfish" you reminded yourself of all those disappointing encounters, flicking through your mind like a magazine of the mundane.
His grin widened at that. 
"Oh, that's such a shame." 
He sounded so sincere, but that smile of his was certainly telling a different story. You found yourself looking at the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned. Probably thought he wasn't good enough for me, just like father said. 
It was like he'd read your mind. 
"He wasn't good enough for you anyway." 
"You think?" 
He'd leaned into you, as if telling a secret. You could smell him, lingering sweat, aftershave and cigarettes. Drawn to him, you'd sat up and moved a little closer. His words were a whisper in your ear, his hot breath on your neck making your heart beat just a little too fast.  
"What you need is a real man." 
Mouth falling open, you snapped your head to face him. A quick wink and he was back on his feet, smiling at your father who had just returned from the kitchen. He had walked off without a glance back. 
You press your clit harder at the memory of his words, your other hand snaking its way into your top to tease at your hardened nipple. A real man. 
Was he talking about himself? Or had he just been teasing you for your taste in boys? Either way, his words had made you wet, your thighs clinging together in supplication. 
Fuck it. If he was on your mind you may as well lean into it. Your thoughts wandered, making up scenarios in your head, thinking of those thick fingers replacing yours. Your speed on your clit doubles, thighs squeezing together. It still wasn't enough. There wasn't enough pressure. 
Pulling your hand away in a huff, your eyes land on a cushion on your bed. Hmm, now that just might do. 
Clambering to your bare knees, you straddle it, positioning the seam to sit just where you needed it. 
Now, this was better. You could almost imagine him underneath you as you humped at his impressive length. You assume he had a huge cock. Well, he did in your fantasies anyway. Pulling your top off and away, you tease at your sensitive nipples, one hand keeping the cushion in place. 
So close, you were so close. The warm feeling was pooling in your belly, your clit humming with desire. Scrunching your eyes shut and whimpering, a particularly good rub had you moaning out "Eddie!" 
Unfortunately, you had failed to hear the approaching footsteps. 
"Yeah sweetheart?" 
Frozen, you can only watch in abject horror as your bedroom door swings open and the object of your fantasies is standing in the door frame. 
"Oh shit, I thought- did you just say my name?" He seems split between looking away and getting an eyeful. 
Grasping the bed sheet you quickly cover up your bare chest, cheeks burning scarlet. 
"Sorry." He adds, looking you up and down one last time, and finally swings the door shut. 
Well that's it, now I need to move to a different state. Fuck fuck fuck. 
"Hey, honey, come hear a sec!" Your mother's voice, ringing up the stairs. Trying to get the blood to diffuse from your cheeks with sheer force of will, you hastily scramble to put your top back on. 
"Coming!" You shout back. Well, you nearly had. So fucking close. 
Making your way downstairs past the bathroom you see your parents arm in arm, Eddie spread out on one of the bar stools in the kitchen. Practically feeling his grin from here, you focus on your parents. 
"We're going out to dinner hon. Mr Munson here, well he was going to have a look at the cable. I can't get the damn thing to work. Sure you don't mind Eddie? Ain't you got somewhere else to be?" Your father looks towards Eddie with his question. 
"Nope. Completely free. I'm sure I can fix it." 
"Thanks buddy, you're a lifesaver. Hon, can you look after him? Make sure to give Mr Munson anything he needs." 
Cheeks flaring again with heat, you mumble out your agreement. 
"Thanks sweetie!" Your mother adds, planting a peck on your cheek. Then, they leave. It's just you and Eddie. 
He begins to walk towards you. The walls suddenly seem too close, your skin itchy, hairs standing on end. He stops in front of you, too close for comfort. A rough hand reaches to you and you flinch. He quickly pulls it away. 
"Well, better fix the cable." He smiles at you, and turns on his heel to the TV room, leaving you staring at his retreating ass as he leaves. 
Maybe he's not going to mention it? 
The thought seems too good to be true. You turn to leave, back the way you came, but a strange force is pulling at your gut. Pretty soon you're standing in the door frame of the TV room, staring at Eddie's ass as he bends to look at the cable box.
Fuck, that perfect ass.
He must have changed from earlier. Maybe he'd had a shower? He certainly smelled good. Staring at his back you notice his hair looked damp. 
OK, so, ignore what happened. Eddie seemed to be. Act natural. Be a good host. 
"Eddie, do you want a beer?" 
He doesn't bother looking back, but you hear his deep voice say, "sure thing sweetheart." 
Making your way back to the kitchen, you grab a beer for him and one for yourself, to steady your nerves. 
Placing it on the coffee table, you let him know it's behind him, as you swig your own. 
"Could you come down here sweetheart? I need a hand." 
You fall to your knees beside him. 
"Show me your hands?" 
Confused, you hold your palms up. 
"Perfect, tiny hands. Here." And he grasps one, swallowing it up in his large palm. The skin on skin contact is a shock to your system. 
He pulls your arm gently. 
"There's a cable right there, can you reach that?" 
Sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth, you extend your arm, reaching into the gap he couldn't quite hit. 
"Got it." 
"That's it. Good girl." You suck in a sudden breath at his words, warmth simmering in your core. Eddie doesn't seem to notice. 
He's adjusting some other cable, moving the network box to a better position as you stare at the veins in his neck. 
"So, did you finish?" 
"Huh?" Confusion floods your face as you scrunch your eyes at his words. 
"Earlier, when I walked in. Did you finish?" 
Your mouth hangs open. He mentioned it so nonchalantly, not even gaining eye contact. You're so shocked that you answer him without thinking about it. 
"N-no." 
"Shame." 
What sort of alternative reality is this? 
"OK, can you feel my hand? Give me that cable." 
You pass it to him wordlessly, fingers brushing his ever so slightly. 
"There. Should be fine now. Try the remote."
Turning the TV on, it does indeed work. You switch it off as Eddie sits back on his heels. 
"It just wasn't wired correctly. Easy mistake to make. So, you need a hand?" 
"Huh?" You sound out doltishly as he swigs his beer. 
"Seemed like you could do with some help earlier is all." 
Swallowing hard at his words, you feel your thighs clench and your heart race. 
"Eddie, what are you saying, exactly?" Words spilling out a lot calmer than you felt. 
"All I'm saying is, you looked like you could use some help. I reckon I could help you out. A lot more than a cushion, anyway." He says, a slow smile spreading over his face making your knees want to melt.
You stare and stare, momentarily lost for words. 
"Come on sweetheart, there's a reason why you were moaning my name. We need to get whatever this is out of our system. " 
You will your legs to move, to flee. They don't. They have their own agenda it seems, taking a shaky step towards him, and another. He's still kneeling on the floor, a slight smirk pulling at his face as if he has all the time in the world. 
Your knees do buckle then, under the weight of his words, as you mirror his position. There's a slight gap between you, but you're closer than you think you ever have been. The air between you seems to hum with desire, an electric current buzzing back and forth. 
Reaching out with hesitant fingers, you finally close the distance, resting your hand softly on his knee. 
"I'm- I'm sorry that I, erm, said your name, it's so damn embarrassing-" 
"Don't be sorry," he responds, his giant hand coming to rest over yours sending your pulse into overdrive, "that was the hottest thing I've ever seen." 
"Really?" You can't help the disbelief dripping all over your tone. 
"You're kidding right? I've been fuckin' hard for the last hour, I'm sure it's not healthy." 
You giggle into your hand at his confession and move to look down, but his hand is on your jaw then, pulling your chin up. 
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, you know. We can just forget all this and I'll leave." 
His stare is firm and sincere, but there's an undercurrent of need behind those eyes, one that's making the pulse between your legs hammer out a tattoo on your insides. 
Before it even registers in your head, you're the one pushing toward him, drawn in by that stare. Your lips are crushing against his when you realise you had taken the leap and kissed him. Eddie's hand presses into the small of your back, pushing you bodily against him, the other snaking into your hair. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss his tongue begins to slide against yours. Never had a kiss felt so good, so sordid. You wrap your arms around his middle to steady yourself as he explores your mouth greedily. 
A slam of a car door snaps you back to reality; pushing your body off him hurriedly you look around with wild eyes. 
"Hey, sweetheart, it's OK. It's not them, it's too early for that." 
You stop and listen, and realise he's right. 
"Sorry." 
"Hey, it's OK." He smiles, flooding your tummy with warmth. 
"You wanna go and get comfortable, sweets? We can, well, just this once."
You nod and stand up wordlessly, leading him to your bedroom. Your pace is slow and measured as you walk up the stairs, belying the running commentary in your head. 
Oh fuck, I can't believe this is happening. This is Mr Munson for fucks sake. Dad would absolutely freak. Oh fuck. 
As you're closing the door, he's kicking his shoes off and sitting up on your bed. His rough demeanour and chiselled physique look so out of place, juxtaposed by the sweet pink bedclothes. 
"Come here sweetheart, right here." He says, patting his lap. You move over to him, trying to work out exactly where he wants you. 
"Knees either side, come on baby, I know you know how to straddle." His smile is dipped in sin, biting his lower lip slightly and flashing his teeth. You take a shaky breath and mount him, your thin sleep shorts barely covering your expectant pussy. 
"Can you, um, take your jeans off?" You ask hesitantly, "I wanna feel you." 
"Whatever you want baby, I'm here to help." 
You sit awkwardly to one side as he wiggles his jeans off those perfect hips, giving you a teasing sliver of his lower abdomen to gawp at before he's gripping your hips forcefully and pushing your core down against his solid bulge. 
"Hmm, nearly perfect," he says, giving you an appraising look. 
"What's not right?" You feel your cheeks blush, waiting for him to point out some flaws you have. 
"Well, I'm sure when I walked in earlier with you in this position you were topless." 
An impossible amount of blood flushes your face, chest, neck. Eddie's thumbs trace calming circles into the flesh of your hips, catching the hem of your top and slipping just beneath. 
Lifting your top up hesitantly, you move your arms up and away, discarding the clothing on the floor of your room. 
Eddie's eyes are fixated on your nude breasts, letting out a slow breath. He holds your hips harder, fingers bruising into you. 
"There. Perfect. You are perfect sweetheart. Such a good girl for me." 
It's deeply pathetic, the noise that escapes your lips at his praise, but it serves to break the spell Eddie is under and forces him to look at your rosy cheeks and pouting lips. 
"Fuck, you like that sweetheart?" He asks, large hands clinging to your hips, starting to grind you back and forth. His breathing is laboured, as if he's trying to hold himself together.
"Yeah." You say back, voice small, hiding under his studious gaze. 
"Don't go all shy on me now baby. This good, yeah?" 
You nod, mewling at the sensation. He's rock hard, and just the feel of his solid dick rubbing back and forth, hitting your swollen clit with each pass has your head spinning. Just two layers, two layers of flimsy fabric lay between him and you. Between him entering you. 
"Talk to me sweetheart. What do you need?" 
His eyes are searching yours, so eager to make you happy. 
"Please, please play with my nipples." 
A rough hum rumbles from his throat, hands creeping up to your chest. 
"So polite. Whatever you need sweetheart." 
Taking over grinding over his member, you feel your skin thrumming, heat bubbling in your gut as his hands begin to trace over your curves. His thumbs graze the underside of your tits with confident movements. Expecting him to start pinching at your nipples, it takes you entirely by surprise when he leans forward and takes one in his mouth, sucking hard. 
Whimpering quietly, you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to be quiet. It's like Eddie can read your fucking mind. Unlatching from your nipple, he grabs your chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes to meet his. 
"I told you. Don't be shy. It's just you and me here. I want to hear you. Every whimper, every fucking moan. I'm committing this to memory, so make it a good one." 
A watery grin unfurls over your face, eyes tearing up unexpectedly. 
"OK Eddie." 
"Good fucking girl." 
"Oh God-"
Before you're done moaning at his words, his lips are immersing your nipple again, wet and warm and rough; as he pinches the other with hardened skin fingertips. A thick tongue darts out, flicking back and forth over the hardened nub. 
"Oh Eddie, oh fuck!" Your moans are loud and unashamed, your hips frantically humping over his turgid cock, clit swollen, nearing on sore.
His breath diffuses over the sensitive skin of your breast. 
"See that's it baby, I know, I know. Keep going, use me." 
Chasing your release your movements become almost violent, hands grasping onto his wavy locks and tugging hard. He groans at that, almost a growl. Teeth scraping your aching nipple, he unlatches with a wet pop and instead bites into the joining spot between your neck and shoulder harder than anyone had done before. The act was bordering on feral. An animalistic gesture, sucking on your flesh as if he was sucking the orgasm out of you. 
It was working. The low simmering in your gut had bubbled over, threatening to pull you under into the deep depths of pleasure. You let it, screaming out his name as you lost breath, quickly losing yourself in the gaping depths of your release. 
Slowing your frantic rocking movements, you finally slow to a halt.
"Feel better sweetheart?" 
You hum, fingers tracing over the muscles of his toned arms. Your pussy hasn't gotten the message however, clenching around nothing. Your walls are pulsing, wanting to clench onto something, anything. 
"Yeah I'm good." 
"Don't lie to me." 
Gasping at his hard words, you look into his eyes. 
"If you're done I'll leave-" 
"No!" You shout, gripping him harshly,
fingernails embedding into his skin. This can't be over, not yet.
"See?" He laughs, almost mocking you, "if you need more, say so. I want to help you. What do you need?"
"I-" fuck why is this so difficult? "I need, I need something inside me." 
"See? Was that so hard? You want my fingers baby? I'll make you come, as many times as you need." 
You nod enthusiastically, slipping off his lap. He turns you to the side suddenly so your legs are draped over his. Firm, smooth strokes rub up, up, up your thighs making you quiver. 
"Take these shorts off. I need to see that pretty pussy of yours." 
Wiggling out of them, they land on the floor in a heap. 
"Fuck. Spread your legs a little." 
It isn't in you not to comply. Your knees fall open, entirely exposed. 
"Well, look at you. Fucking perfect." A rough hand slots between your legs, two fingers rubbing the length of your pussy. 
Leaning back on your hands, your back arches into his touch, hips moving upwards to meet each stroke. 
"You really want this? You want me to fuck you with my fingers?" His movements are tantalising and slow. Your body begs for more, more. 
Nodding at him, you soon see it's not enough. 
"Use your words sweetheart." Fingers whisper across forbidden skin, circling around but never touching your clit. 
"Oh God please, please I need you, please fill me up!" All modesty forgotten.
"Fuck, yeah that's it, hmm" you feel his fingers swipe your wet lips, about to go deeper. Leaning forward, he angles his head towards your cunt, and spits, hard.
Holy fucking fuck. 
That act had you clenching all over again, rocking into nothing. 
"Oh she likes that! Dirty girl." 
He smiles his approval and gathers your combined wetness, two fingers diving deep inside you. It's aggressive and rough and entirely what you've been craving. 
"This what you wanted baby? My fingers filling you up? Fucking into your cunt?" 
His words are filthy, switching something inside your head you weren't aware of until just now.
"Yeah, fuck please, stretch me out, I fucking need you baby, please please please!" 
Your tiny hands are gripping onto him, desperately seeking him, digging into skin and flesh. 
"Oh you are so hot. Keep begging, I like it." His salacious grin pours over his features, fingers working you roughly, nestling into a spot inside that had your toes curling. Your breathing is heavy and ragged, as his other hand slaps harshly against your thigh. 
"I said beg." 
His ministrations start to slow. 
"No, don't stop! Please, oh fuck please, I need to fucking come Eddie!" Your eyes seeking his with a desperate gleam, toying with your features. 
"Yeah, that's it sweetheart, fuck," and his hand lands a hard smack against the side of your ass making you shriek. 
"You're a dirty girl, aren't you?" His fingers continue, setting a brutal pace, each stroke reaching your g spot pathetically easily.
"Yeah, oh yes, for you I am." 
A thick tongue runs up the side of your neck, pushing his fingers harder, deeper. 
"Oh Eddie I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, don't stop!" 
"Not stopping, not even if you paid me. Come for me sweetheart." 
Your hips betray you, rubbing against his fingers as hard as they can, desperately seeking your second release. 
They don't have long to look. Suddenly it bursts around you, popping in your head like a firecracker of feeling, pulsing out of you in waves. Your fingers wind into his hair once again as your orgasm floods your system, hands almost frightened of being swept away. 
You knew he was good with his hands but fuck, his words were something else. 
"Oh my God that was incredible." You stutter out, legs still trembling. 
"I aim to please. You good now baby?" His fingers whispering over your arm, catching your nerves, making quivers run over and over you. 
If I'm good, he's gonna leave, and that will be it. Fuck, just don't want it to be over. 
"No. I need you to fuck me. Just this once. Please. I- I need you to cum inside me."
"Shit sweetheart, you want my fuckin' cock? How could I refuse such a sweet good girl." 
Laying you down against your many pillows, he stands, ridding himself of his shirt and pants. 
Oh fuck, just look at his cock. 
It's swollen, throbbing against his slickened pubic hair, wetted by your own juices. Licking your lips impulsively, you spread your legs wide, wanting to guide his hips between yours.
"Fuck that's a pretty dick. So fucking big." 
He looks at you, quirking an eyebrow. 
Oh fuck you just said that out loud. 
"Yeah? You want it? You want me?" 
He's smiling, stroking at his throbbing length, making an emotion akin to jealousness bloom in your chest. 
"I need you Eddie." 
He climbs between your thighs again, letting another glob of spit fly from those perfect lips of his. 
"Oh!" You moan eagerly, writhing beneath him.
"You are perfect, aren't you? Fucking filthy and ready for me." The head of his swollen member nudges your soft opening. 
"I'm on birth control, please just fill me up." 
"Oh fuck you're gonna make me bust if you keep on like that." The words are admonishing, but he sounds impressed. 
His weight dips onto the mattress between your legs, making it sink dramatically. You grab his relatively narrow hips, your slender fingers forcing his body between yours. You need him inside you, now.
The fat, leaking head of his cock rubs against your intumescent lips. 
"Fuck me Eddie, I need you, please fuck me!" You blabber, fingers flexing hard against his hard muscles. 
The mushroom head of his turgid cock pushes against your sodden opening. It breaches you then, forcing its way into your soaking lips. 
Pushing harder and harder into your deepest depths, you whimper, walls quivering around his fat length. 
"Eddie, oh God Eddie!" Your moans are unrestrained and throaty, him rubbing against the spot that makes you wobble inside. 
"You wanna come again? So fucking greedy sweetheart." You expect those words to have bite to them, but he's grinning, forehead nearly touching yours as he hikes your legs around his middle. 
You hump at him recklessly, hips thrusting against his waist as hard as you can. 
 "Oh my fucking God, fuck!!" 
You release hard, wetness squirting over Eddie's imposing length as you moan hard and loud. 
"Hey honey, we're home!" 
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. 
Your eyes flick wildly to Eddie. It doesn't help that he seems amused, chuckling a silent laugh into your skin. 
"I've, I've gone to bed, see you in the morning!" You cry out desperately, hoping to heaven, or hell, that they listen. 
"Eddie fix the cable?" You hear your mom call out up the stairway. 
"Yeah he's, he's really good with his hands!" You shout back, Eddie's body shaking with silent laughter over you, the arms caging your head trembling with barely contained amusement. 
"Great news, night honey!" 
You grip Eddie's shoulders as hard as you can as you listen for the minute changes in air. There it is, mother and father both going to bed. 
"Fuck that was close." You huff, releasing your titanesque grip on his shoulders. 
"But I'm not done sweetheart." 
He thrusts hard and deep against you, his impressive member rubbing against that sweet spot yet again.
"Eddie, you can't, fuck-"
"Oh I can. You just need to shut up." He grins quietly, holding your body close to his. 
"Oh Eddie, oh-" 
"Shhh, fuck sweetheart, shut the fuck up." He whispers urgently into the skin of your neck. Your mouth forms a perfect 'o', wiggling against him ardently. 
He releases his cum into you with a hard, shuddering thrust, throbbing and throbbing out of him. It pumps inside you, pushing you to the edge of coming yet again.
Eddie knows. 
Grinning wickedly, he latches his teeth to your nipple again and sucks hard. Moments later you feel your release explode from your core, dampening your bed sheets in the process. 
Thrumming against him, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, you manage to coax your breathing to a normal level. 
"I hope that's everything you wanted sweetheart, 'cause it aint happening again." 
Before you can protest, Eddie is leaving the warmth between your thighs and aiming for the window, so no one suspects what just happened between you two. A few sure movements and he disappears, however reluctantly, into the night. Leaving you huffing, and panting, and wanting. 
@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiethefreakkmunson @munson-blurbs @roanniom @eddiemunsonfuxks @eddiesprincess86 @corrodedhawkins @eddiethefreakkmunson @indouloureux @icallhimjoey
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fhrlclln · 21 days
Note
I don’t usually do ask but I DESPERATELY need a qimir au smut😭 idk about what but I just know I need it
in the darkness | qimir
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SUMMARY -> abandoned by her own family and order due to her curse and having no husband, they leave her on a remote planet surrounded by water and grey clouds, as said in her cruel prophecy that her supposed betrothed awaits for her there to take her. but this husband of hers is no ordinary man as he always wears a mask.
qimir x fem! reader
masterlist
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> eros & psyche inspired au, unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation & sensory deprivation
WC -> 6.09k
a/n: hope this satisfies your req, anonzz!! sorry it took so long for me to write!!
likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
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the waves thrash against the rocks as the harsh winds blow across your face.
you clutch your cream scarf tight around you, the grey clouds loom above you menacingly and you can smell a storm coming. you blink wetly, your chest feels heavy and you feel somewhat terrified and betrayed. your father had forced you to wait here, leaving you behind with only a few words of a sorrowful goodbye. you couldn't blame him really... you knew you were cursed, as said by the elders in your order your family is apart of.
"you would never know love with that darkness inside you."
you could not understand what that meant. you were a normal child growing up, always following your family's footsteps and obeying the order. what darkness shrouds inside you? that it would forbid you to love or be loved.
"but someone will want her darkness and they will be waiting for her in a place surrounded by endless water and shores filled with grey sand. her betrothed awaits there, that is her destiny."
you thought for a moment that your supposed prophecy was just a means to make your family usher you to find a husband, for in your age you were supposed to be married by now. all of your sisters were bethroted and you were the only one without any prospect. your mother had been disappointed that you being the eldest was unwedded and you were the shining beautiful daughter she prided in, putting a lot of expectations in you. yet, after the elders had announce your cruel oracle, none of the possible suitors wanted your hand anymore which made your mother's frown deepen.
and you, in-fact, were more displeased in yourself more than anything. you had wished that you were born different... born normal. alas, you couldn't change your life. and here you are, waiting by the grey rocky shores, standing by the waters crawling up to gently touch your sandaled toes. you breathe in the sea air, anxiousness clouding your mind.
who would want you?
or instead... what would want you for you and your darkness?
the anticipation lingers as you watch the sky slowly turn more greyer. was night falling? was that how long you have been waiting on this deserted planet? the hurt inside you grows, and you shiver at the coldness of the weather. your lips tremble, and you curse yourself for being this way instead of living a perfectly normal life in coruscant. you look to the horizon of endless oceans, you had to accept you were either going to die alone on this planet or suffer the loneliness if you will yourself to make this your new home. you now stand up, opting to walk by the shores before the night captures the dull grey sky.
"are you her?" a feminine voice suddenly asks from nowhere. you halt from where you stand at the sudden presence of another person. "are you the wife my master was promised to?"
you turn your head around to be met by a young woman dawning a dark purple cloak and a wool black and grey gown underneath. her hands are clasped in front of her, you look up to her face but you are only met with her eyes that were slightly covered by her hood and her braided hair. the half of her face down is concealed by a bandana similar in color to the clothes she wears. you blink, registering her question and throwing away the curiosity in your mind about how she managed to appear in thin air moments ago.
"...yes." you merely answer with a soft and slightly questioning tone. her eyes do the talking and she seems relieved. you wait, curious to know who is she and what she is to the supposed "betrothed" of yours that she calls her master.
"come, he's waiting for you." she gestures her head to the caves up the island's hills. your gaze follows there, and a chill runs up your spine when you see the dark opening of a cave. someone is watching you. you look back to the strange woman and nod. she walks first and you follow. the gravel is rough underneath your feet in each step you take. you stay quiet, not knowing what to ask of the mysterious woman.
the path to the cave opening was an easy one. You should have noticed a dirt path when you first walked around the shores, and you wonder why you hadn't turned your attention to the rocky hills then. You look beyond the mysterious woman's shoulder and see that you are almost nearing the cave. you let out a tiny sigh of nervousness, and your mind conjures scenarios of what may lie ahead when you meet your husband-to-be.
will he be kind?
would he hurt you?
would he be neglectful?
"my master awaits for you in here." the mysterious woman's voice snaps you back to reality. your breath hitches, and you nod as you look ahead to see only darkness in the cave. she steps aside for you to enter and you step forward. before she could leave you behind, you stop her for a moment.
"I didn't catch your name." you said, and she halted her departure.
"mae, you can call me mae." she answers, her tone light than before. you nod and offer a small smile in response.
"thank you, mae." she nods at you and leaves you alone to face the prophecy of what lies inside. you almost wished that you had asked mae to stay for a while until you entered the vast darkness in front of you.
enough stalling now. your mind scolds you, and you finally take a step in despite the pounding rhythm your heart is doing. The darkness envelops you for a moment, but as you take small steps forward towards the little light at the end, you are met with an unexpected sight of a well-furnished room. the interior walls were of the caves,' but the interior looked like what your home used to look like in coruscant. it felt... nostalgic in a sense. you stand in the middle of the supposed living and dining room, waiting as you look around.
"hello?' your voice echoes throughout the home. you wait for a response, but your eyes catch an unusual object on the wooden dining table. you walk towards it, feeling an unexplained sensation of something pulling you to it. your gaze is attached to the peculiar object and once you near it, your mind is curious to see a saber of all to catch your attention. the saber was like the elders' in your order, similar style, yet somehow this one had a gravitating and oddly weird aura. you lift your hand to touch it, yet a voice scares you.
"you are a curious thing, aren't you?" a deep modulated voice interrupts your curiosity. you jump at the sudden presence of another. you swiftly turn around, clutching your hand around your scarf. you were met with the sight of a masked stranger dressed in black robes. a poncho-like robe concealed most of his stature, but the peek of his arms made you feel relieved that he was human.
this is your betrothed, then.
strange he's wearing a mask.
"forgive m-me." you meekly say and step away from the table. you hear him walk towards you and your heart skips a beat.
"welcome, wife." he greets you, and you look up at him.
"thank you, husband." you nod and your eyes roamed to examine his mask. it was eerily scary seeing how it had multiple lashes, and the design made it seem that it had teeth. but... you can't help but feel more comfort than fear for this mysterious husband of yours. this was entirely different than what you were dreading when you were alone by the shores.
"are you hungry?" he asks, and you shake your head. your fingers fiddle with the hem of your scarf, feeling shy all of a sudden. despite his mask, you could feel a smile creep behind it. he takes a step to you, and you avert his gaze even if you can't see what lies behind the mask.
"do i frighten you?" he cocks his head to the side, curious about your reaction. you momentarily glance at his masked face, wanting to question why he doesn't let you see his face yet you look away, not wanting to offend him.
"no, j-just... nervous." you confessed.
"why?" he asks, and you shrug.
"not to you! i mean, i'm nervous about what lies ahead... about all of this. it's baffling to think i already have a husband that i haven't met or known yet." you sighed at yourself, fearing you have ruined your first impression towards him. "sorry."
"you don't need to apologize. i completely understand your reasons." he assures you, and your shoulders drop at the sudden relief.
"what about you? isn't this prophecy of mine baffle you? that you would want my..." you try not to say that word that has been thrown around on your face.
"it doesn't." he suddenly holds his hand out, and you glance down in curiosity. "i am looking forward to knowing you, wife. whatever the prophecy might say."
you don't have words for that. even though his voice is robotic and you can't tell if it's genuine, you know he speaks the truth, somehow. you slowly raise your hand and place it on his waiting palm, and sparks ignite when the rough callous of his hand touches yours. it felt warm inside that this mysterious person had accepted you despite what was said.
and you feel like this is the start of a life you always wanted now.
・゜゜・.
the days passed since you have been living on the remote planet with your husband. you have grown a tenderness for the mysterious man even though you both barely know each other. he was kind, that was given, caring in a way you never expected, yet he was secretive for the most part. he would always go out, but he would still remind you before he departs, yet he never tells you what he does. in the days that you have been adjusting in his home, there were unwritten rules, or rather what he implies, that you have followed as you got to know him. you two did slept in the same bed, but for the first few days, he gently told you that he'd let you sleep alone for comfort. once you had told him that you were fine and you two were technically married in a sense, he did agree yet he strictly had said the lights had to be turned off.
that was one rule. you never should turn the lights on once he lays with you. and the second was mostly obvious...
you aren't supposed to see his face.
you always wondered why and you did ask him this night as you two readied for bed.
the room was pitch black, you were snuggled in the shared blanket as you felt his body near yours. the sheets shuffled, and you bit your lip if you should ask him the question repeating in your mind. your heart thumps as you hear him let out a relaxed sigh; you wish to see him, yet you know better than to not respect his one wish.
"why do you wear a mask?" you asked, feeling nervous, but eager to hear his voice than the modulated one.
you hear him chuckle; it makes your chest feel tight and how deep and raspy it is. "many reasons."
"can you tell me one?" you ask again, feeling courageous. his voice was beautiful to hear the first time you heard it. and it made you even more curious to see his face that matched his voice.
"why do you ask? are you eager to see me?" he teases you and you pout. he chuckles again, and you wonder if he can see your reaction despite the darkness. you are about to turn your back to him, yet you are surprised when an arm wraps around you, pulling you close to his body. your hands instinctively go to where his chest is, and you are met with the touch of smooth, warm skin. you feel hot all of a sudden as you feel his chest rise.
"for your safety, you can't see me." he merely says, and you blink at that. "i don't wish to put you in any harm."
"why? are you... ashamed of your face?" he laughs at that, a heartful one, and you are pleased to hear it. his hand caresses the side of your waist, and you shiver at the feeling; your legs rub against each other, and you wish to see his smile. the warm feeling of his body against yours, with the shame you can't see his face, is starting to get to you.
"on the contrary, i am not ashamed of my face, wife." his raspy tone makes you squirm for a bit as his hand caresses down to your hip. his touch wasn't foreign to you this moment; he had been respectful the first night when you two slept together, opting for distance. but as the days passed, you two had grown to entangle with each other. you both are technically married, and you knew at some point that this would become normal. but you can't help but mourn the fact that this came with the obstruction of the pitch-black room, even though it brought you comfort still. you loved it, the feel of his body to yours.
"i understand." you say to him as you lay your head on his chest. you sometimes hope you'd catch a glimpse of him in the morning but he always woke up before you. you dismiss the other questions in your mind you want to ask him, you need to show him that you wholeheartedly understand his reasons, no matter how vague they are.
"what do you want to eat for supper tomorrow?" he casually asks and you nuzzle your face against his skin. "will you be cooking?"
"mhmm, can you pick up a couple of cooking herbs? I'm hoping to make a stew for you." you respond, eating times were also a big disappointment for you. you always would eat first, and he would eat after, but you still cook for him, knowing he loved your meals from how he would always if you would cook again.
"alright." you feel his face nuzzle against the top of your head. this affection you two had made was astounding to think that you both were already acting like a married couple in mere days. even if you barely know what he does, you do know small things about him. he often bathes in the lagoon, since he would always smell like the sea. he likes to walk along the shores, and sometimes you'd join; you know that he was like a teacher to mae, saying that she's a student of his. you also know that he apparently is a heavy drinker, judging by the bottles of alcohol you'd see by the counter. and that he's also been living alone on this planet for a long time, and he apparently hates the rain.
"good night, qimir." you yawned, saying his name sleepily. and you also knew his name. the name was unique, and somehow, you felt like you heard it before.
"good night." he whispers softly as sleep takes the both of you.
you wake up suddenly from a strange feeling that's poking against your bum. the darkness still is blinding your sleepy eyes but you squirm at the strange sensation. qimir's chest was pressed against your back, and his arm was lazily draped across your torso. his breath tickled the nape of your neck as you unconsciously push your hips back, wanting to get rid of the object poking your rear. did he forget to take off his belt? you thought as you sleepily sighed, still squirming in his hold.
an elicit groan from him fully awakens you and you freeze in place. qimir's arm tightens around you, his hips suddenly press against your rear, and the poking sensation makes you ponder for a moment if you should wake him up. you close your eyes, still wiggling your bum until a tingling sensation on your neck stops you.
"stop moving." he whispers in your ear, hoarse and... agitated? you're confused for a moment until he softly traces his lip on your neck again. your eyes widen at the realization of the moment, and you suddenly feel embarrassed.
"sorry." you whisper back as you lay your free hand on his arm. "h-have i awoken you?" you try to mask the quiver in your voice of how close he is and the thing of his poking your bum.
"no." he answers, but there's a beat. "...maybe."
you're about to apologize again, but his lips suddenly trace from the nape of your neck to the side wherein he hovers above a particularly sensitive spot.
"you've been moving in your sleep." he says. "bad dreams?"
"not really." you confessed, and he suddenly kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "q-qimir!"
"do you want me to stop?" he hoarsely asks as his hand softly traces the plane of your stomach.
"no." you immediately answer without much thought than to feel more of his lips and his addicting touch. his hand moves downward to where your ache is, the ache that has been pestering you for the past few days since you had been living with him. your mysterious husband, one you desperately want to see his face than his mask. the one that you have been imagining day and night since he welcomed you into his home despite the cruel curse that has been placed upon you.
"i have been holding back from touching you like this out of respect... but it seems like i have deprived you, my wife." you gasped when his hand gripped your nightgown as he scrunched it up to your waist. your grip on his arm tightened as his hand delved down to the center of your thighs slowly. "i did, did i?"
you could only nod slightly as he nipped your soft flesh. "please..."
"you sing so sweetly for me." he groans as his fingers are met with your wetness. your legs open slightly and you could feel him grind his crotch slowly on your rear.
"husband..." you whined when he rubbed soft circles on your pulsing clit. you wondered how he managed to do this in complete darkness. you let go of his arm, wanting to do something for him. he continues his ministrations as his other hand moves to fully embrace you since you were still laid sideways from him. his hand gripped the soft flesh of your breast while the other pleasures your core. your back was flushed against his hard chest whilst he grinds his hard cock against your ass.
you let your one free hand touch him from behind, it was a little uncomfortable that you had to find the prize you were seeking, but once you felt the tent of his crotch touch your fingertips, accompanied by his low groan, you immediately palmed his clothed cock slowly. the darkness of the room was making your senses sharp. even though you mourn not seeing his mouth open in pleasure from the way he is breathily moaning against your ear due to your hand palming his cock, it did make everything feel more heightened. his scent envelops your senses with his warm body heat has you letting out more noise with the way he's rubbing circles on your clit.
"want you inside of me." you moan out as your hand massaging his prick searches for the hem of his wool pants. your hand glides down from his abdomen to be met by the warm flesh of his cock. you grip him, and he bucks his hips toward your hand with a breathy moan. qimir removes his hand from your dripping cunt while you pump his aching cock.
"open your legs." he suddenly says, and you squeal when he suddenly grips the underside of your thigh and lifts it up. you obey him as you spread your legs slightly for him. you remove your hand from his crotch when you feel him shift in his position to lower his pants down. your heart is beating loudly and the anticipation gnaws you. the act of marital duties wasn't unheard of you from your sisters, your mother would always put on a strict lesson for them of what to expect on the night after their marriage.
a prodding sensation touches your wet entrance and you brace yourself, not entirely sure what to expect. you almost expect qimir to fully take you, but you are surprised when he rubs his cock slowly, making you let out a pleasurable sigh.
"you smell so sweet, so pretty, so beautiful..." qimir huffs as he positions the tip of his cock to your entrance. "and all mine."
you let out a moan when you feel him enter you finally. he's gentle and slow in the process, ensuring you were comfortable. he wraps his arms around you tight, as if you were going to leave. you feel your breasts spill out of your top as the cool air hits the skin of your chest. he cups one and pinches your nipple as he fully sheathes in you. you grind back, feeling full. the darkness of the room is a pleasant sensory sensation, you thought you would be disappointed at the aspect of not seeing him. but he made it pleasurable, which makes your heart skip a beat for him.
he thrusts into you at an agonizingly slow pace that has you pushing your hips back to him. he alternates gentle bites and sweet kisses from your neck down to the slope of your shoulders. you close your eyes, wanting to feel all of him as your free hand finds its way to his hair. you want to touch him as well, and you feel satisfied when you interlock your fingers with his soft hair.
both of you don't know how much time has passed. you both were too into the heat of the moment, not wanting to rush things but to just feel each other. your walls clamp around him as qimir's thrust went from being slow to now setting a steady pace. your moans and his groans fill in the void of the room. you could feel his thumping heart from your back and he could feel your heartbeat under his hand.
your mouth hangs open in pleasure. you feel yourself nearing your high as his other hand dives down to rub your clit. you call out to him, and he calls out to you. he fastens his thrusts, cock hitting that spongy spot in you, and you soar high. he lets out a moan of your name when you squeeze him tight with your orgasm. he shakily thrusts into you, and with a loud groan, he follows through, fucking both of your orgasms into completion. his cum spills on your walls, painting you with his seed. your wetness coats his cock entirely and he halts his thrusts, feeling spent like you are.
a moment of silence transpires, heavy breaths are only heard. his cock is snuggled inside you, and you feel exhaustion and sleep taking over. he loosens his arms around you, still holding you close. you hadn't realized that a small smile graces your lips as you feel him kiss your neck, soothing the intense aftershock. you caress the side of his face, and his lips touch your fingertips. nothing else is said other than sweet caresses and kisses on the skin. sleep seems to take both of you as you let exhaustion null you to sleep.
・゜゜・.
you feel like a whole new person waking up after that night. you were only disappointed to see your husband not by your side when you had awoken. but the sweet soreness of your legs and the dampness of your core were enough to rectify your displeasure of him not being beside you in the morning after. you wobbly did your morning routine and dressed yourself in one of the dresses he had gifted you, a black dress that matched his clothes and your own jewelry, and draped your cream scarf around you since it was cold.
once you had properly dressed yourself, feeling a little giddy when you looked in the mirror to see marks on your neck from his doing. you went out of your shared bedroom and were surprised to see mae sitting by the dining table. qimir was by his workbench, wearing his mask as usual but dressed in clothes you knew he would be going somewhere.
"good morning, mae." you smiled at her, and she nodded at you in greeting. her scarf that concealed her face the first time you met her was gone. you could now see her truly, which made you happy. if only your husband would do the same.
"good morning."
"do you want something to eat?" you asked her, going straight to the kitchen to prepare something for yourself.
"no need. i already ate..." she says, yet there's a concern in her voice as she looks at you. "are you alright? you look tired."
your cheeks heat up all of a sudden. "y-yes, i'm alright. why do you ask?"
"you're walking funny." she points out, and you hear your husband let out a robotic chuckle. you feel embarrassed as you shoot a glare at qimir from his workbench. mae stays silent, a little confused, but you change the topic, noting that they both seem dressed for something.
"are you two heading out?' you ask, and mae nods.
"i'm preparing a lesson for mae in euda. it shouldn't take too long as she will need to learn it herself." qimir answers you as walks towards where you stand. you nod in understanding, finishing up your breakfast.
"will you be here before supper?" you ask him, since sometimes he'd be late.
"i will." he promises as he caresses the small of your back, knowing you ache below. mae watches the both of you with subtle curiosity, and qimir seems to sense this. "wait by the ship, mae. we'll leave soon."
mae nods. "yes, master." you wave goodbye to her as she heads out. only the two of you are alone at last. he presses himself against, and it makes your heart beat loudly at what he's doing. you tilt your head to see his masked face, but you can feel his tension.
"come back safely." you softly say to him as you turn around, and his hands drop to your hips. he squeezes them as your hands caress his chest.
"always." he assures you. the way he's touching you makes you want to kiss him. and you suddenly realize you still haven't kissed him yet. you already had him inside you and the thought of you two not sharing a kiss baffles you. before he could leave, you stop him.
"i want to kiss you..." you pout and his grip on your hips tightened. "for luck."
you see his chest rise and you smile at that. his other hand lifts his mask up slightly and you watch in anticipation to see a peek of what he looks like. he holds his mask up and you are met with the sight of his pink lips surrounded by facial hair. you thighs clench, knowing that those lips were the cause of the marks that are on your neck.
"are you just going to stare at me, my beautiful wife?" a grin spreads across his pink lips. you roll your eyes as you tiptoe up, wrapping your arms around his neck to finally kiss him. his lips are soft against yours. you let out a noise when his hand gripping your hips pulls you close, and he deepens the kiss. you moan, almost wanting to pull him inside the bedroom, but you let go, and he seems to chase after your lips, which makes you laugh.
"go, mae's waiting." you could see him pout before he adjusted his mask to cover his entire face. you feel a little disappointed he has to hide again. he lets go of you, and you watch him leave, feeling happy. but the gnawing curiosity of what he looks like still itches you now, even if everything is perfect.
・゜゜・.
in truth, you knew in yourself that the one forbidden rule he had said would come to you. you feel guilty that you are still thinking about it... but how could you not? you lay beside him in the darkness again, your head laid on his naked chest and your body pressed against his. you convinced yourself you can live like this with him, that you can learn to love him even if you would never see him for what he is until you die. qimir made everything perfect despite there being clear flaws. you can't sleep, you feel restless, and the desire to see him is strong, but something else bothered you.
"you would never know love with that darkness inside you."
those were the first words the elder had said to you when she prodded into your mind and future. you were terrified... would you know love with qimir? you haven't spoken to him about what your prophecy truly is. and it frightens you to think that maybe this would all fall apart because of you. your brows furrow and a dark feeling encapsulates your chest as something calls out to you.
you lift your head gently, feeling through the room, careful not to wake your sleeping husband. the strong hum of the force calls out to you, so familiar that you cannot place what it is, but you know where it is. you quietly detach yourself from qimir, trying your best to make as little noise as possible as you guide yourself to stand up and let the force guide you. your feet walk on its own and you are pulled to somewhere in the dark room.
your hand stretches out, and you feel cold sweat envelop your whole body when your hand grips a metal object. you let out a shaky breath, and your fingers grip it as your thumb presses against a button. your eyes widened as a red glow enveloped the pitch-black bedroom. you gasped, you were holding a saber. a lightsaber with its color that was forbidden in your order, for it tells a story of its connection to anger, hatred, vengeance, and all things that were forbidden. you freeze in place, seeing that the hilt of the saber is familiar. it was qimir's-
"my love?" you turn around quickly to hear your husband's voice, still holding the illuminating saber. you watch in horror as the red glow reveals his face.
he's beautiful. his face is chiseled, his skin is smooth, and his messy black hair matches everything. even if red illuminated his face, his dark brown eyes are a wonder to stare at.
and you recognize him.
"qimir-" you were cut off when the saber in your hand suddenly flew out and landed on his outstretched hand. his black hair is messy, and his eyes shine a pain of betrayal towards you. your heart stops, and guilt washes over you for what you have done. he switches the saber off, and the darkness meets you again.
"wait, qimir!" you call out to him as everything happens so fast. In the blink of an eye, the bedroom door opens with light, filling the dark room again. you watch your husband without his helmet leave hastily and the one thing you feared most comes to you.
he's going to leave you.
your eyes water as you rush to follow him. a sudden gush of harsh winds makes you falter when you see that the front door of the cave has been opened. you follow still, desperate to make this right for him. you huff, stepping out to see the blue hour of the day. your eyes scan down to see him walking hastily towards where the lagoon is- to where his ship might be. your chest feels heavy as you quickly ran to get to him before he leaves.
stupid, stupid girl. the cackling noise of one of the elder's taunts you in your mind. always playing with the darkness.
tears stream down your face. how could you do that to him? the one thing he asked for you not to do, and you completely disobeyed him. your feet ache as the gravel wounds your bare soles. you see his figure near your line of sight, you had to make this right. you love him-
"qimir! p-please! i'm sorry." you sob out. he suddenly halts in his steps, his grip on his saber tightens and you fear for the worst. will he kill you? now that you have seen him. you stop in your steps as your chest heaved with utter sadness and guilt.
"you can't see me. you're not supposed to see me- why did you..." the hurt in his voice pains you.
"i'm sorry." you bowed your head, ashamed.
"i-i..." you aren't sure if you should say something. you knew his face back in the order, one of elder vernestra's students in her stead. the one that disappeared one day without any trace. rumors that he went rogue on the order, communing with the dark side of the force. and rumors that the order threw him out. while you were by the sidelines, doing your duty as the eldest daughter, you had seen him around years ago in the temple in coruscant. he was a knight and you remembered when one of your sisters gushed about a handsome knight coming out of the temple. tall, black hair, a charming smile, and a skilled warrior. you never once dallied with your sisters' hushed talks about handsome men. but he made everyone stare at him when he entered a room. it's a shame you can't remember his name back then, but all is pieced together now.
"and now you know where i fleed. you must have a lot of questions." he sighs as he finally turns around to you. your heart still beats loudly, seeing his face now. you stay silent, unsure of what to ask him.
"i don't have any." you decided, and that surprised him. "i'm sorry i did that."
his brows furrow. "that doesn't matter now. don't you understand? i am the one the elders of your order who warned you all about-"
"i don't care. you're my husband." you cut him off as you step towards him. his chest rises when you near him as you shakily place your hand on his where he still grips his saber. "they don't matter anymore, qimir. i haven't been in contact with them since i've been here."
"really? did you know that they threw you away as well. haven't you wondered why they suddenly placed a prophecy upon you?" he asks, and you think about that momentarily. he was trying to let you see the seriousness of it.
"i know..." you nod, deep-down you knew why they carelessly threw you away. maybe your own insecurity had taken over when they had said that to you, and you believed them.
"when i heard about your ridiculous prophecy, i knew they were using you to find me." he confesses, and you frown at that. his other hand lifts up to caress the side of your face. there's a tenderness in his eyes, and you understood why he chose not to let you see his face.
"but it seems like i find myself not caring about that anymore."
he looks deep into your eyes and you feel the weight on your shoulders lighten. "i love you, my beautiful, beautiful wife."
"i love you too." you say to him as you pull him down for a kiss. the morning sun shines between you both, no need for hiding now. qimir happily reciprocates the kiss, dropping his saber to the ground as he scoops you up in his toned arms. the salty breeze of the planet is a nice touch to this tender moment, wherein all are finally coming to peace.
and you were right, this is the life you always wanted now.
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