#I need my own fucking space so badly

[ruabadfishtoo]

.

[helianskies]

block button lookin so fine rn

[s0fter-sin]

i don’t think i’ve ever experienced so many things going wrong at once in my life

[fingertipsmp3]

iOS18 when I fucking get you—

[gregmarriage]

it’s so hard being a lesbian, bc it’s in our nature to bring out the u-haul immediately, but also, i have a really bad habit of rushing things in an unhealthy way, and losing myself. so now i’m trying to take things slow with ppl (it’s…difficult 🙂)

[a-friend-of-red-jennys]

.

[ceolocunt]

[dukeofriven]

I don't know are you sure there's just always going to be another Dave? Really? REALLY?

there will always be another dave strider but there will never be another terezi, there will never be another kanaya, there will never be another aradia, there will never be another jade harley. so many of the women in homestuck blatantly go against expectation and are so wonderfully unique for it

[lurochar]

Love Potioned

Alastor has been affected by a love potion. Or has he?

Warnings: Nothing? I don't think

-------------------------------

"Are you okay? We found the–”

“We are fine, Charlotte,” Alastor hisses and Charlie takes a step back in shock at the pure venomous tone directed towards her. “Now, if you do not mind…”

‘Fuck off’ was crystal clear and not even need to be said.

Charlie weakly raised her hand, turning her attention to what – or rather who – was currently being tightly held on Alastor’s lap against his front.

A very uncomfortable and dazed you.

Charlie was about to say something, opening her mouth, but you seemed to notice her and you shook your head as best you could with Alastor currently nuzzling his cheek against your hair.

‘Just go for now.’ You mouthed to Charlie and she winced. ‘With Alastor how he is right now, he might hurt even you.’

“But…” Charlie sighed, finally turning away when you kept frantically gesturing to her to do so. She glanced back, still in disbelief that Alastor had been affected so badly he was openly doing this in the lobby for anyone to see. She brought her phone out, deeming it safer to just text it to you.

I think I found the antidote

~♡♡~

“Alastor.”

You shivered as his tongue found your throat, licking the sensitive skin with long enthusiastic strokes while his clawed hands slid up and down your waist, as if they couldn't settle their position.

“Alastor.”

His ears twitched and it seems you got his attention this time around. He pulled back very reluctantly to see what you wanted, tightening his grip on you so you couldn’t move away. “Yes, Darling? I will be of any service to you.”

You stared wide-eyed at his lovedrunk expression, completely blown away by the heart-shaped pupils. 

How Alastor got dosed by a love potion, no one knew and he wasn't telling either.

Why you were the one Alastor zoomed in on for his affections was another mystery for the ages and, once more, he wasn't saying anything.

It was utterly bizarre to have the Radio Demon, who laughed at the very notion of ‘love’, to be abruptly all touchy-feely, constantly whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and growling at anyone who he deemed too close to your personal space.

“You didn't need to snap at Charlie like that.” You sigh, causing Alastor’s smile to twitch on one side

(HEHADTOENDHISTASTEOFYOURDELECTABLESKINTOTALKABOUTCHARLIE?!?!?!)

“She's just trying to help. I'm sure somewhere in your brain, you want this to be over.” You blink when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, not seeing Alastor’s eyes darken at your words when you reach for your phone.

(Want this to end?!?!)

You gasp in surprise when a tentacle snatches the phone from your hands before you have the chance to read the text from Charlie. “What are you doing, Alastor?! You better not break that! It isn't VoxTek!”

Alastor’s grin darkens into something that immediately puts you on edge once he reads whatever Charlie had sent you. “An antidote?” He says out loud and you inhale sharply before giving him an excited look.

“You can go back to normal! That's great! Isn't that what you want?” You smile encouragingly at him.

A dark laugh escapes Alastor and you instantly feel cold.

“Darling, what I don't think you realize,” you cringe when you hear that disturbing cracking noise when Alastor’s head snaps towards you too quickly, “is that I've been ‘back to normal’ for quite a while now.”

You watch in a silent horror as his heart-shaped pupils reform back to his normal-shaped ones on his own accord and you take a small step back. “Why…?”

“Hmm, Darling, don't pretend as if you didn’t enjoy my attention. I could smell it.” Alastor took a predatory step forward. “I admit, in the very beginning, I was under the effects of a love potion… that I took myself.”

“What…?”

Alastor let out a breath of frustration. “I was… unsure of how to go about it. I have no experience in this… area.”

You gaped at him. “You couldn’t just ask me out on a date like a normal guy?!”

“Would you have accepted a night out in Cannibal Town?” Alastor’s brow rose, almost huffing when your face paled at the thought.

“There are other places to eat. Even your little bayou would've been nice.” You rub your head. “Well, as long as you cook the deer.” You added with a mumble.

“Well, I shall remember such a simple thing for next time then.” Alastor straightens, but you can see that his ears drop ever so slightly. “Perhaps I did go a little too far in this endeavor.”

You stare at him blankly. “Yes. Yes, you did. And I won't go anywhere with you until you apologize to Charlie.”

Alastor closes his eyes. “I suppose I deserve that much.” His eyes pop back open. “But afterwards, Darling?” He takes in your own teasing smile with fervour.

“I guess we'll see after that.”

[bunny-jpeg]

ugly guys

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, teammates au, driver!reader, doggy style, (non-con) filming/recording, jealousy, (semi)dark fic, mad!max, long fic,

a/n: happy, happy, happy birthday to yooooou!!

max could usually keep his expressions to himself. he knew how to play a good poker face for the media, but when he saw your ugly boyfriend on the track, he could barely keep it to himself.

you were the first female formula one driver in decades and you picked the ugliest guy to date. not that max was the image of a greek god, but you could do better. it didn't help that when he went to shake max's hand, his palms were painfully sweaty and the guy looked like he was going to have a panic attack when he saw max.

"to each their own." max tried to say to himself. as if he hadn't been harbouring feelings for you for what felt like a lifetime.

so imagine max's complete shock when he found out this ugly guy fumbled you so badly that you ended up in max's hotel room the next night with tears in your eyes.

max handed you another tissue as he sat on the other end of the couch. he then rested against the arm of the couch and asked, "so what exactly happened? all i heard was that you two weren't together anymore and you didn't want to be alone."

you sniffed, "i didn't know who else to call. all my friends are back home or in monaco." you wiped your eyes, earlier you took all your make-up off by evidence of the wipes all over the bathroom counter.

max shrugged, "well, glad i could help." in all fairness, he was glad that your boyfriend (not ex-boyfriend) was out of the picture. hated the guy and not because he looked like the personification of a dumpster. he was getting in max's way.

you leaned against the couch and pouted at him, your arms crossed. you ordered pizza for the both of you, not caring about the diet you were both on. you wanted something greasy and filling and a salad wasn't going to cut that. you explained a little calmer, "he... he called me annoying, he said that when we talked i changed the subject too many times. he said the 'vibes' were off." you gave air quotations, "i tried to forgive him last month when my friend found him on tinder." you sighed, "but... i guess i wasn't good enough. feels like i'm never good enough."

max replied, "i think it's because you give these guys a false sense of confidence. you give these greasy losers an ego boost because they gets to be with you and they go off and think that they're all that. what did this guy do for a living anyway."

"he worked at the gift shop at the circuits of america..." you looked away.

he knew you refused to go on apps like raya, even if it would be easier for you. max thought you liked scrapping the bottom of the barrel and expecting gold.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you were flying out and fucking a guy who worked at a gift shop!" he sighed, "i know you want a real, nice guy. but, you're inflating their egos!"

you looked down, "he seemed nice at first."

max couldn't be mad at you. he really couldn't. it wasn't your fault. these guys always put on a show for you, and then when you got too close, the trap came down and you always limped back to max with tears in your eyes. he reached over and sighed as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, "you need standards."

you slumped your shoulders, "i have standards."

"what are they?"

you made a face, "nice. considerate."

"you know you can train a dog to be nice. it's not a very high bar. you are the third ranked driver in the world and all you want is nice. considerate." without thinking he added, "maybe i should date you and show you how to be properly treated."

you stilled for a moment, your eyes wide at max. you said, "don't say things you don't mean." from your expression he could tell you were getting heated in the face.

oh... oh.

he let go of you to move the pizza box out of the way, he was soon crowded in your space with your back against the arm of the couch. "does someone like me?" he watched you swallowed. you had been max's teammate for two years now, after perez retired.

"i never said that." you looked away, but max took you by the face to look at him. something in his blue eyes should've alarmed you, but instead you melted a little into his touch.

"you didn't need to say anything. i could see it in your face." he smiled, "did you date all those greasy-haired, directionless losers to make me jealous?" if he were a worse man, that would've been an ego boost.

"i did like them."

"but you liked me more."

there was a beat of silence between you two before you sighed. you admitted, "yes... i tried to date guys who weren't you, so i'd forget about my... feelings for you." you swallowed.

max found it endearing. if he had known sooner, he would've easily swept you off your feet and made sure no other man got in his way. so without much of a second thought, he kissed you. it was passionate and the result of over two years of wanting you. needing you. the kisses continued until the pizza was long forgotten and you were on max's hotel bed.

you bounced a little when he pushed you onto it. some of your belongings were in his room as you were going to stay the night. his hands under your shirt.

"i've thought about this often." he said, "i wonder if any of those guys ever made you feel good. or were you wishing it was me." he whispered in your ear, "did you think about me when they failed to make you cum?"

you swallowed, "the last guy..." you admitted, "his cock was really small and he didn't know where the clit was." and blushed more when max looked at you in shock.

he laughed, "and he's going on tinder and acting like a prick! cheating on you and calling you annoying! he broke things off with you and you were suffering with piss-poor sex. c'mon. you need standards." he pushed your shirt off of you, "you need me."

call max verstappen a possessive man. he'd chalk it up to his childhood and the constant feeling of inadequacy. being knocked around a few times in the head probably scarred him. but, he was happy that he could finally lay claim on you.

he got you undressed and did the same to himself. you both had seen each other naked a few times. it was the price of being in close proximity for most of the year. walking into driver's rooms without knocking, that time you asked him if this bra looked alright, the other time you had to hold his hand while he got that small tattoo on his hip (that not even the other drivers knew about). you two knew each other more intimately than most, if not everyone.

so it only made sense that max felt you up while you laid under him. with promises on his tongue as he kissed your collarbones, "i'm gonna make you feel good. i promise." he his cock was sticky and heavy. he needed you asap.

you got on your hands and knees with your hips arched to the perfect angle for him. in the bright lights of the bedroom, he could see your wetness cling to your pussy lips. this was what your ex-boyfriend left? this! max assumed the man needed his head checked, but now he was certain he needed to be locked up somewhere.

only an idiot would mess up their chances with you.

he rubbed his hard cock against your click cunt. he said, "might be a bit of a stretch. i'm guessing i'm about double the size of him."

"he was three inches." you replied, "i measured after he lied to me and said he was five." you felt embarrassed, "i can't believe i gave this guy a chance! more than one chance!"

max tried not to laugh, he didn't want you thinking he was insulting you. but max was close to seven inches, well beyond double what your ex-boyfriend was packing. and maybe it was rude of him to think so, but it made his confidence a little higher.

when he sank his cock into you, you buried your face into the pillows and arched your back. your nails dug into the fabric. the whole floor didn't need to know you two were fucking.

not that max cared, let them hear. let them know.

the idea only came to him when he started to thrust up against you. he watched your ass shake with every hard thrust of his hips. he soon had you bouncing on his length. his size buried in your just right, at least he knew where your clit was. and the thought of it against his tongue later left him more excited.

there was so much for him to try on you. missionary would be rarely on the table. max wanted to devour you like a fine meal. but you'd always get your fair share of orgasms. can't have his girl go without.

however the thought crossed his mind and as he thrusted into you. he grabbed his phone and started to record. he changed his pace a little, harder thrusts that were a little slower. really get his cock comfortable inside of you.

he pressed against areas that had you moaning louder. all picked up on the camera. he asked, "do you like that, baby? do you like how it all feels?"

you whimpered. you weren't aware he was filming, instead just doing dirty talk to make you pant and whine. you replied, "it feels good, max. ah!"

max smiled, as the camera caught the sight of his cock going in and out of you. his cock sticky with your wetness. even a ring of milky white around the base from how good he made you feel. he wanted to speak directly to your asshole of an ex-boyfriend. he wanted to know that he'd always be less than. less than max verstappen.

"better than with anyone else." he couldn't give away that he was filming you. even with the camera directed at your pussy taking all of him so nicely.

you nodded.

"use your words, i want to hear you." he said with a bit of cockiness in his tone, "i want to know how to make you feel." c'mon, tell your dickhead of an ex how good your own teammate made you feel. tell max everything.

"shit, max. please. no one has ever fucked me like this before." you held onto the pillow a little tighter. the rush was to your head, you couldn't believe it. it was even a little better than when you pleasured yourself.

"a girl like you deserves a good fuck. how big was he again?" now max was just taunting the man. maybe it was a step beyond, but the greasy-haired prick should've known better than to get in max's way.

"three."

"yeah, yeah. didn't know how to use it either. but that's alright, schat. i'll make sure to give you all the orgasms he failed to give you. right?"

you nodded, "right, max, right." you arched your back a little more. the pleasure was flooding your brain. almost overwhelming as he fucked you with such force that it moved the bed up against the wall. the expensive headboard knocked against the wall a little harder.

no more worrying about idiot men for you, not while max was still upright and breathing. you were his. even if max had to raise your standards himself in any capacity. he would make you see that the two of you were a better fit. and to not give these low-lifes any chances. you were above them.

far too beautiful, far too funny, far too charming. if they couldn't handle a woman who liked to ramble then they were weak. max had already been listening to your rambling and ranting for years. the only difference was now he could keep you quiet with about seven inches in your mouth.

"who's going to make you cum?"

"you are!" you said a little louder. your voice a little tighter.

"who?"

"you are!" you yelped as your back arched further and eventually you came around max's cock. the noises you made were angel choirs in max's perverted mind. there, that should get the message across to this other dickhead.

he ended the video and tossed the phone on the bed before he gripped you by the middle and pressed his chest against your back. he fucked you with a heavy pace. it made you see stars and feel the throb of need in your core.

already overstimulated, your body craved for more. now you certainty weren't going to find another man. with a few ore heavy thrusts, you came once more and almost punched the pillow from the intensity. it was soon followed by max who pushed himself all the way inside of you and finished.

"shit." he croaked.

you laid under him as he slowed to a stop and dropped your hips when he pulled out. you laid there, finding comfort in the pillow under your head as you felt on cloud nine.

while max would've loved to eat you out right after. he could tell that you had already had enough for tonight. he laid down next to you and you rolled to your side to face him. your expression was blissed out and sleepy.

so, like any good boyfriend. he held you. and soon you drifted off to sleep. the rush of chemicals to your brain made you sleepy. and soon you were curled up under the covers with max.

"good girl." he said softly as you laid on his chest in a post-orgasm bliss. it wasn't until you were fully asleep that max got to work.

as you laid asleep beside him, he had your phone in his hand. he knew your pass code because it was the same as his. his number (33) and your number. it was a cute thing you wanted to do as teammates. so it wasn't easy to send the video and photos of him fucking you to your ex-boyfriend.

you shifted a little in your sleep from the feeling of the bright light of a phone nearby. you made a noise and almost woke up.

"shh, shh." he said as he kissed the top of your head, "just checking emails, go back to sleep." he was quick to send the video from his phone to your phone then to your ex-boyfriend. you simply snuggled closer and relaxed more. unaware.

max attached a message to the video, the one of him completely taking your pussy, "thought you were dumb, now i think you're completely stupid. don't text or call this number. congratulations of fumbling someone way out of your league. but don't worry, she's better off with me now.- mv." then blocked the number before he put the phone down.

it was his loss honestly, not that max cared. the guy could live forever or die tomorrow. forever irrelevant because now max had you. and as you snuggled up closer to him, a sleepy smile across your face.

you could've gone through a hundred guys, but that didn't matter. because you'd always find your way back to max. <3

[vaguely-concerned]

My two cents on how much of Mind!Varric is Rook’s mind trying to fill the blank space and how much is Solas actively talking through a convenient blood magic paper doll of the mind: I think it's a mix of both, a truly collaborative psychosocial horrorshow if you would, but waaaay more towards the second. It feels too directed and tactical at times to be anything else. Rook's mind is willing to go along with the denial phase as far as it can fucking carry them to not have to face the grief and regret and does its part in papering over details that don’t make any sense, the way brains will strive to create coherent meaning even out of deeply confusing input, but to my understanding it's a collaborateur in how that plays out, not the instigator or control center. Solas is using it as a path to agency and to gather insight into Rook as a person unguarded as he can't count on in his own guise. (That stoic option that leads to him being like 'oh I see you're cautiously denying me access to your inner life. well. at least you still have Varric to talk to. y'know as an outlet :)'. You absolute BITCH Solas! That alone convinced me that he HAS to have an active hand in it on some level.)

My guess is that it takes considerable effort on Solas’ part to make Mind!Varric do anything more involved or complicated than seeming to sit up in bed and give casual commentary, and that’s why he keeps having eerie five minute shallow pep talks with you before he announces he conveniently needs a nap aaanyway good luck kid you got this haha. When he’s just spouting NPC lines from his bedrest, I’m ready to believe that could be Rook’s mind being allowed to improv lines for him more freely because it’s less about Solas trying to get something out of them or working an angle and more ‘Still here! Still totally alive and fine and the mentor figure you know and love and trust :) don’t even worry about it! Thankfully there is no war in Ba Sing Sei, as we all know’ upkeep work lol. Rook’s mind is allowed to set the tone of Varric, the outlines, but not always the content. 

AND, on a (beautifully fucked up) character psychology level, I feel like Solas is indulging in actually getting to be the good supportive mentor figure to Rook with one hand to assuage the guilt he feels about what he's done -- and what he's going to do -- to them with the other. Same internal logic as he uses in Trespasser about the Qun. ‘Almost everyone is going to die from the course of action I’m doggedly pursuing eventually. But at least I can make their last years happier and freer and kinder than they would have been otherwise. and that kind of makes up for it right. a little bit. doesn't it. doesn't that make it better at least. I need that to make it better)'. Did I really take your beloved mentor and friend from you if you don’t know yet that I did? Some philosophers would argue not really! So it’s probably almost ok actually. Isn’t it even a little noble that I’m taking all this grief and guilt on myself and shielding you for now. With undertones that I’m not sure he would realize himself (and might be mortified by if he did) that he is so incredibly lonely, and even a dishonest and indirect emotional connection is more than nothing when you’re that desperate. In this setup he gets idk. Both the control he craves so incredibly badly in relationships and over himself, and the scraps, the fading afterimages, of intimacy and warmth and companionship, even second hand. The one thing Solas and Rook agree on deep deep down is that they really wish Varric weren't gone. They're handshake memeing this in the saddest and most creepy way possible.

I think an important element too is that Solas needs Rook and their team to *succeed* —  up to a certain point. He needs someone to hold the two other elven mean girls off until he can get out of here. Ideally, in a perfect world, even do all the hard work of killing them so he can swoop in at the end and do his thing when both sides are exhausted and out of resources to stop him, and then Bob’s your uncle! Same logic as he was using with Corypheus, and after that worked out so well, too! King of choosing to never learn from a single solitary mistake he’s ever made even though i fully believe he could have the capacity to Fen’Harel <3 The underlying idea isn’t flawed, you see, it was just unforeseen circumstances getting in the way. This time for sure it’ll all work out the way I cleverly imagined it in my head beforehand. Cue By Talos this can’t be happening etc. in the form of a statue almost crushing him like a bug. 

So he's providing guidance and forging Rook into a leader from two angles: one Rook might not trust, and one they probably will. Shaping them into what he needs slowly and carefully. He’s helping you hone your team into their most effective state, as he might have done with his own agents back in the day, setting up his chess pieces even if he has to squint through two glimpsed realities to do it haha. Pincer maneuver of an insidious stealth mentor you never asked for. Also… at one point mind Varric gives you a whole little monologue about how Solas' problem is that he’s always seen his interpersonal connections as flaws and see where it’s landed him, all alone and the worst part? it hasn’t even worked. it’s all been for nothing he’s back where he began with nothing to show for it but his mistakes. Like...that has such strong 'uh okay happy to play your therapist from two rooms away here what the fuck kind of traumadump is this' energy to me, I’m not sure Rook like. Thinks that much about Solas as a private person. So much of Solas' self-loathing and futile insights into his own flaws seem to shine through in Mind!Varric's dialogue all the time — I just can't believe that there's no guiding hand behind it as it were. 

Most of all. I feel like people underestimate the degree to which Solas is incredibly funny. As in, he has a very consistent and recognizable sense of humour. It’s one of my very favourite things about him. We must remember — it is crucial that we always keep in mind — Orlesian accent and wig Solas from May The Dread Wolf Take You (my beloved, the explanation for why I love this dude even with the. All of the everything else. No one does it quite like him). He is not at all above doing things or adding little flourishes for his own obscure amusement, in fact that seems to me to be one of his most consistent traits. The Randy Dowager Quarterly comment Varric has? The ‘Maybe this is the Dread Wolf’s revenge. Forcing us to house sit for him’ thing? To Me this is 100% Solas amusing himself in his boring Fade jail surrounded by the screaming hellscape of all his regrets. Source: it came to me as divine revelation through pure vibes trust me bro 

If nothing else I find it much more narratively interesting personally if the connection between Rook and Solas really is that defenselessly intimate and entwined (and so unbalanced!), and the sense of violation and invasion and betrayal afterwards consequently all the more nauseatingly intense. Even if you kept him at arm’s length in the open, he’s been under your skin the whole time, looking around, gathering what he needs to destroy you, wearing the face of a friend. Regretfully, probably, but choosing to do it every step of the way anyway. (Sound familiar, Inquisitor? Solas doesn’t have that many tricks when you actually look at it, he keeps returning to old tried and true ones like a dog with a bone haha.) Maybe he even genuinely meant some of it as mercy, which only makes it so much worse. It makes his sin against his own core principles of autonomy and the freedom of all beings in mind, spirit and body so much more juicily grave if it’s something he pursues actively and consistently, rather than it half-falling into his lap as a happy accident mainly orchestrated by Rook’s own subconscious. Solas, too, is at his very lowest point, the closest to giving in and becoming his own antithesis fully that he’s ever been, and it makes the choice of whether you still reach out your hand to him one last time or not all the more impactful and difficult.

[hellaarknight]

Spacing out

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Genre : fluff. Warnings: swearing

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

"What about this one?"

"What about him?"

"Oh, c'mon Ichigo, I need your honest opinion"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. This all help Y/N choose a guy to date was pissing him off. Orihime had the brilliant idea to help each other date because with all the problems caused by the Soul Society, none of them had a proper dating life. It wasn't a really horrible idea in the end if not for the fact that they started with you. All grouped in Ichigo's room and looking at different photos of guys from highschool, or friends of a friend. Why did he agree to this? He couldn't remember.

"Orihime, that guy is not Y/N's style." Rukia chimed in with a smug smile on her face.

"Oh yeah, and what's her style? Right, Y/N what boys do you like? More handsome or less handsome? Tall or short or...?" Orihime started her list while you were deep in thought.

Ichigo wanted so badly to have a piece of your mind. He noticed you spaced out about ten minutes ago, 'bout the time Orihime scattered the guys photos on the floor.

"I think she likes strong guys, maybe a bit old like Urahara or Ukitake" Yoruichi just wanted to mess with Ichigo, she's seen the way he looked at her, the way she always was his priority in all events and circumstances.

Ichigo choked on his water. "I don't remember inviting you over, Yoruichi". His tone was almost menacing, so she was definitely rilling him up. "I don't need to be invited, as it is about Y/N, our beloved, very, much adored by both Kisuke and Ukitake who entrusted me to protect her. Am I wrong or you also asked me to keep an eye on her?"

"That's just because..." Ichigo mumbled some words, awkwardly scratching his cheek. "Listen, I don't need to explain my reasons to you!"

"Rukia, if I remember correctly, didn't your brother also tell you to take care of her?" Chad asked.

"Now that you mentioned it, him and Renji, both told me to keep an eye on her."

Ichigo put his hands into his hair, pulling at it. Urahara, Ukitake, Renji and now even Byakuya?? How was he supposed to compete with them? Then what about the guy you'll choose to go on a date with? He spared you a glance and somehow you were still blissfully unaware of the commotion going on around yourself. His lips curled into a smile. You didn't seem very interested in all this dating thing and for some reason he felt relieved. He liked you and wanted just the best for you. He... He liked you. It downed on him as he saw you smiling to yourself while looking at the framed picture of your group that he had on his nightstand. He wanted to keep that smile on your lips forever. Ichigo realized that all this was bothering him because of his own feelings. His ears started to become red as he was getting flustered by all the feelings that were pouring out of his heart towards his mind.

"Guys, why don't we ask Y/N about who she would like to go on a date with, hm?" As usual, Ishida was the most rational person in that room. They all turned around to face you, but you were too deep in thought to realize, until Rukya's voice reached you.

"Hmm?" You turn your head towards her.

"I asked you who you'd like to go on a date with?"

"Ichigo, obviously, what a dumb question Rukya."

You answered nonchalantly like it was the most normal thing in the world. Until you came to your senses and started to perceive all eyes in the room fixated on you. Then you remembered where you were and what was the purpose of your reunion. Your eyes met Ichigo's wide eyes and red face while you gasped audibly.

"Fuck, I forgot we're all here!"

[goldfades]

blurb based of joes frustration at the end of the game pretty plzzzzz

it’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, jaw tight, eyes stormy, the weight of a thousand unspoken words pressing against the set of his mouth. but tonight feels different. sharper, maybe. rawer. his shoulders slump as he sinks onto the edge of the couch, the post-game silence clinging to him like an ill-fitted coat.

you don’t say anything at first, because what’s there to say? you know better than to try and fill the cracks with empty words—he’d see right through you anyway. instead, you linger in the doorway, arms crossed loosely, studying the way his hands rub at his face, frustration bleeding through the spaces between his fingers.

“rough one,” you offer finally, voice quiet, testing. it’s not much, but it’s something.

he doesn’t look at you, just shakes his head in that way that’s less no and more don’t even start.

“joey—”

“not tonight.” his voice cuts across the room, low and strained, and it stings more than you care to admit. not because he’s angry—it’s not the first time the aftermath of a loss has made him short—but because he won’t let you help carry the weight. he never does.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. you could leave him to stew in his own misery, give him the space he seems to want so badly.

but then again, that’s never been your style.

you push off the doorframe, making your way toward him despite the tension crackling like static in the room. the air feels heavier with every step, but you don’t stop until you’re standing right in front of him. he still doesn’t look up, but you can feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him, see it in the way his leg bounces like a drumbeat he can’t silence.

“i’m not trying to fix it,” you say, your tone soft but steady, letting the words settle between you. “i just don’t want you sitting here drowning in it alone.”

his hands drop to his lap, and finally, finally, his eyes meet yours. they’re tired, bloodshot, and edged with something sharp enough to cut. “i don’t need a pep talk,” he mutters, his voice a low rasp. “i know what went wrong. i don’t need anyone telling me how to feel about it.”

“good thing i’m not here to give you one,” you reply, easing yourself down onto the couch beside him. close, but not too close. it’s a delicate dance, one you’ve learned to navigate over time. “but i am here. whether you like it or not.”

his gaze flickers to you for a moment, a brief flash of something softer breaking through the storm before he looks away again. he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, head dropping into his hands. “it’s just… god, it’s so fucking frustrating.” the words come out ragged, pulled from somewhere deep and aching. “i know we’re better than this. i know i’m better than this. but tonight… it felt like nothing i did was good enough.”

there’s a beat of silence, heavy and loaded. you let it hang there for a moment before leaning back against the couch, your head tilting slightly as you watch him. “you ever think that maybe it’s not all on you?”

his head snaps up at that, and you can see the protest forming on his lips before he even says a word. “it is on me,” he argues, voice sharper now, cutting through the quiet. “that’s my job. that’s what being the quarterback means. i’m supposed to lead, supposed to—”

“supposed to be perfect?” you cut in, raising a brow.

the question hangs in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw working like he’s trying to find the right words to throw back at you. but then he exhales, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it flared up.

“it’s not about being perfect,” he says finally, quieter now, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. “it’s about…” he trails off, his hands running through his hair in a way that makes it stick up in every direction. “fuck, i don’t know. i just hate losing.”

“i know.” your voice softens, the sharp edges smoothing out as you reach over to nudge his shoulder gently with yours. “but it’s not just about tonight, is it?”

he doesn’t answer right away, but the silence says enough. you know how he gets—how the losses pile up in his mind, not just the ones on the field but the ones in his own head. every missed pass, every fumble, every moment where the weight of the world feels like it’s on his back. it’s not fair, but he carries it anyway, like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“you’re allowed to be mad,” you say eventually, your voice low but firm. “you’re allowed to be frustrated, to hate losing, to feel like shit about it. but you don’t have to shoulder all of it alone. that’s what i’m here for, joey.”

he doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders drop just a fraction tells you he’s listening. you reach out, your hand finding his on the couch between you, your fingers brushing lightly against his knuckles. it’s a small gesture, but it feels like enough.

for now, at least.

his hand shifts on the couch, brushing against yours for just a second before he grabs it. firm, almost desperate. it’s a small move, but it catches you off guard—joe’s never been one to reach out like this, not when he’s all wrapped up in his head. but then he’s tugging you toward him, his grip strong enough to make it clear he’s not letting go anytime soon.

he doesn’t say a word as he pulls you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. the hug is tight—bone-crushing, really—but you don’t mind. if anything, it tells you just how much he’s been holding back.

“i hate this,” he mutters against your skin, his voice muffled but no less raw. “i hate feeling like this. like i let everyone down. like i’m not good enough.”

“joey…” you start, but he shakes his head against you, cutting you off before you can say anything else.

“just—let me get it out, okay?” his words come fast, tumbling over each other like they’ve been bottled up too long. “the offense couldn’t get going. the o-line was all over the place. and me? i was fucking useless out there. missing reads, throwing late… i don’t know what the hell was wrong with me tonight.”

you don’t interrupt, don’t try to argue with him or tell him he’s being too hard on himself. you know better than to try and fix it for him, not when he’s like this. instead, you just hold him tighter, your hand moving to his back to rub slow, soothing circles.

when he finally pulls back, it’s only to sink down onto the couch, pulling you with him until you’re lying back against the cushions. he rests his head on your chest, his weight pressing into you in a way that feels grounding, like he’s letting himself find a moment of peace in the chaos.

your hands move without thinking, running up and down his arm in that slow, rhythmic way you know he likes. it’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make his breathing even out, the tension in his body easing bit by bit.

“it’s not all on you,” you say quietly, your voice breaking the quiet that’s settled over the room. “you know that, right?”

he doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep. but then he shifts, turning his face into your shirt, his voice muffled but steady. “i know. i just… i can’t help feeling like it is sometimes.”

“you don’t have to carry it all, joey,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm. “that’s why you’ve got a team. that’s why you’ve got me.”

he doesn’t respond, but the way he relaxes against you says enough. and as the silence stretches on, the only sound his slow, steady breathing, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let himself believe it, too.

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[cookinguptales]

oh my god, I might literally throw a party. I might literally buy myself a cake tonight. thank you, thank you, thank you, Pete Buttigieg.

things that have happened to me specifically while flying american:

being asked to stand in a very long line to check my bag before they'd let me have access to a wheelchair

not being picked up by an attendant in time to get to my flight despite arriving over two hours early

being loaded into a broken accessible bathroom. the door wouldn't close all the way so my naked body was visible to people in the terminal.

being refused restroom access at all, sometimes for hours at a time. I'd say that this one happens about 80% of the time when I fly, especially when getting off the plane.

being denied stops for food at the airport as well

being left outside a restroom for over an hour because the attendant straight-up left. I had to TWEET AT THE AIRPORT FOR HELP because I knew being public was the only thing that would work.

being left on plane for over 45 minutes for the same exact reason. once off the plane, I was left at the gate for an additional hour. my parents, waiting for me at baggage, were frantic. a gate agent got into a screaming match with a wheelchair attendant. it was wild.

having a wheelchair attendant harass me about my homosexuality the entire time they took me through the airport; I'd just come from pride and had an identifying t-shirt. I couldn't get away from them or their lectures about being a good christian.

never being collected for a connecting flight, forcing me to walk or miss the flight. I dislocated my shoulder trying to get there.

once I was loaded onto a shuttle but no one bothered UNloading me, so I had to bang on the glass to get passersby's attention

not being preboarded a solid... I'd say 20% of the time. this is important because preboarding means I don't need to stand for an extended period in a narrow aisle behind people putting their things away, and also provides me with additional space to put away my accessibility devices.

once this happened because the wheelchair attendant was late (as usual) and the gate attendant assured me they'd hold the line so the aisle would be clear. once I got down there, they refused to do this and wanted me to stand for 15 minutes, which would have been incredibly painful while holding my bags. I refused to board until the aisle was clear, so they started directing passengers around my wheelchair. it was only after a passenger straight up refused to board and blocked everyone else that the aisle was cleared and I was allowed to board.

I have also had passengers break rules to take me to the bathroom when I was literally weeping at the gate from how badly I needed to pee and how much I did not want to publicly wet myself. thank you to those passengers. (and the ones that yell that I need to be preboarded when they "forget" to do so.)

I've been told to get off the plane because my wheelchair was there, but got off the plane to find out that it wasn't -- and they wouldn't let me back on the plane. they wanted me to walk to baggage, but I couldn't. I sat down on the filthy floor of the bridge and wouldn't move until they brought a wheelchair, no matter how much they yelled at me and threatened me with security. what a fucking mess.

they have given away my seat near the front of the plane before and forced me to walk to the back of the plane. I was openly sobbing from the pain by the time I made it back there.

things that have happened while flying in general (TSA, other airlines, etc.):

(trigger warning for sexual assault)

TSA giving you the most invasive pat-downs you can imagine. if you remain in your wheelchair, often they will run their hands under your thighs, bottom, and genitalia. the weight of your own body means that I have had fingers part my outer labia through my pants. one I started crying during a pat-down because I am a survivor of CSA and they yelled at me then restarted the pat-down from the top.

I have had attendants refuse to help me with my belongings during security, instead insisting that I get out of the chair and do it myself

I have had security make me get out of the chair, then lose the chair until my legs gave out and I sat on the floor, which also got me yelled at

broken accessible bathrooms have happened at MULTIPLE airports.

delta has broken not one but TWO of my personal wheelchairs

once while boarding an attendant (who was already mad at me because I'd refused to walk up the steep tarmac ramp without wheelchair assistance) grabbed my cane while I was using it and I almost fell. I was never notified that this would be a tarmac boarding to begin with.

once, during a different tarmac boarding, they expected us to go down a flight of stairs, despite me being loaded onto the plane via wheelchair. I would not go down the stairs and they had to call for the lift to be brought. it took about a half hour, and the entire time the attendants kept asking me if I really needed it and wouldn't I just go down the stairs? like I was just being a recalcitrant child and not someone who's broken her ankle stepping off a curb before.

honestly the refusal to let me eat and pee is pretty universal, as is wheelchair attendants ghosting me, refusing to talk to me, acting like they're transporting luggage instead of a person, etc.

believe it or not, that is not an exhaustive list. they're just the first examples that come to mind. whenever I fly and it goes completely smoothly, that's more of a shock.

and like... it's dehumanizing. it really is. not being allowed to go to the restroom? having people refuse to talk to you? being abandoned in random hallways?

I'm always in so much pain after I fly, a fact that is generally worsened by poor treatment at the airport, and even the literal dislocations have hurt less than being treated like I'm less of a human person than my fellow passengers.

so uh. rock on, Buttigieg. fine them into fucking oblivion. I'll be cheering you on the whole way.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Was feeling kind of horny so I wrote this one real quick...

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All His

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — The one where Jude takes what's his.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x You

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.9k

Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), just pure smut, no thoughts, oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, Dom!Jude, Sub!reader, ,

The dim glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, honeyed light over Jude's bedroom, painting the walls in soft hues of gold and beige. Shadows dance lazily across the space, draping everything—the rumpled sheets, the partially open window, the forgotten book on the nightstand.

The air is still, save for the faint rustle of fabric beneath you and the soft sound of your breathing, uneven and laced with need.

You’re sprawled across the plush sheets, the silence pressing down on you as your mind drifts into the haze of your desires. The ache between your thighs has only grown sharper with every passing minute, your fingers the only remedy to a desperation that refuses to fade.

A soft whimper falls from your lips as your fingers work between your slick folds, the heat pooling deep inside you.

When you finally sink a finger into your cunt, a moan tumbles free—needy, raw, and heavy with frustration. The sensation is a tease, your walls clenching around the intrusion as though desperate for more, for something thicker, longer, for him.

It isn’t enough, but it’s all you have.

It’s been hours now, hours since Jude walked out the door. Hours since he left you to go hang out with his friends. Hours since you last felt the lust of his gaze or the warmth of his touch.

You’d hoped the time would pass quickly, that you could distract yourself from the fire building inside you. But as the minutes dragged into lonely hours, the emptiness only grew, and soon enough, your hands were sliding between your legs, fingers slipping beneath the elastic of your panties in search of any relief.

Your body trembles as you thrust your fingers deeper, chasing a satisfaction that seems just out of reach. Every gasp, every broken moan that spills from your throat feels louder in the quiet room, a stark reminder of just how badly you need him. How much you ache for him.

The thought of Jude—his hands, his mouth, his cock buried deep inside you—sends another sharp wave of arousal through you, and you groan in frustration, your hips bucking against your hand.

You’re desperate, aching, consumed by a craving only he can satisfy, but right now, it’s just you and your fingers.

And maybe that’s why you don't hear him at first. Why your ears tune out the soft creak of the bedroom door, the heavy thud of footsteps crossing the floor. You’re too lost in the haze of desire, too absorbed by your own needy moans.

Not until you feel his large palm grip your knee do you freeze.

Your eyes snap to the side, and you barely have time to register the look on Jude’s face before it slips behind a mask, the surprise melting into a shy smile. Almost embarasses. Even if you're anything but. Secretly hoping he would catch you like this.

“Jude.”

His name tumbles from your lips on a broken exhalation, the word coated in false embarrassment. Your hand stills against your cunt, but your fingers don’t retreat, not yet. They stay where they are, buried between your legs like you don’t have a care in the world. Like you weren’t just caught finger fucking yourself.

Jude doesn’t move to join you on the bed. He stands beside you, his eyes fixed intently on your cunt. His gaze is heavy with desire, with the dark kind of lust that always fills him when he sees you spread out like this. Bare, open, and waiting. His thumb traces a line down the inside of your thigh, and your breath hitches as he speaks.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

The question sends a shiver down your spine. He’s teasing, but only slightly. The tone of his voice is sharp with something else, something darker. Possessiveness, ownership, and a little bit of anger. Because you're touching yourself without him.

A gasp tumbles from your mouth as you answer. "Y-yes."

The sound of his sigh fills the air, and you watch as his eyes travel up your body, taking in the sight of your heaving breasts, your parted lips, and the flush that paints your cheeks pink.

"Mm. You look so good like this." You can practically feel his words against your skin, the way they seep into your blood and wind tighter around your need. His hands move down your thighs, pushing them wider as his voice lowers. "You know you're not allowed to touch yourself without me. Right?"

Your heart stutters at the edge of accusation in his tone, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Good.” His voice drops an octave, rich and commanding, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. “Then why don’t you show me how you were doing it?”

Your breath hitches, his words sinking into you like a brand. The weight of his gaze pins you to the mattress, and for a moment, you falter, the pulse between your legs thundering in time with your racing heart.

“Jude…” you whisper, unsure, but the hunger in his eyes leaves no room for protest.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His tone is sharper now, firm yet laced with the promise of pleasure. “Show me.”

Your body trembles under his scrutiny, your pulse quickening as you drag your fingers through your folds again, the slickness betraying just how worked up you are. His eyes darken, jaw tightening as he watches every movement.

You push a finger inside yourself again, the sensation still not enough, but now with Jude watching, it feels electric. Your walls clench instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as you move your hand in slow, deliberate motions.

“More.” The command is low and guttural, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “I know you can take more than that.”

Heat surges through you at the edge in his voice, and you oblige, adding another finger, stretching yourself as you moan his name. It’s both a plea and a confession, your body arching into the sensation as your free hand grips the sheets.

“Look at you,” Jude murmurs, his voice thick with want. His hand slides higher up your thigh, stopping just shy of where your fingers are buried inside yourself. “So desperate. So greedy. You couldn’t even wait for me, could you?”

You shake your head, biting your lip to stifle the sounds threatening to spill from your throat. “I—I couldn’t,” you admit, your voice trembling, whiney. “I need you.”

The admission pulls a growl from his chest, and he finally moves, taking off his clothes before lowering himself onto the bed beside you. His hand replaces yours in one swift motion, his fingers sinking into your soaked heat with ease.

You cry out, your body jerking at the sudden intrusion, your own fingers now forgotten as Jude takes over. His touch is firm, precise, and devastatingly familiar, every movement drawing a fresh wave of pleasure that has your toes curling and your thighs trembling.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “To have me take over? To remind you who you belong to?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your head tipping back as he curls his fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot that makes you see stars. “Yes, Jude. Only you.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure, and your body arches into him, a broken cry tumbling from your lips. “And remember, this is mine. This pussy is mine. And you’re going to do a better job of waiting for me next time, or this is exactly what I’ll be doing.”

He withdraws his fingers and slaps your cunt, the sound echoing in the room as you yelp, heat blooming between your legs. “Understand?”

“Yes, yes. I understand,” you pant, your hips squirming into the mattress. Your clit aches from the absence of his thumb, but before you can even begin to beg for more, his mouth is on yours, consuming your cries. His tongue tangles with yours in a wet kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting for more.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls into your mouth. “Get on all fours.”

A shiver runs through you as you obey, turning onto your stomach and pushing yourself up to your knees. Your fingers clench in the sheets, bracing for his next move.

“Spread them for me,” he commands, his voice raw and animalistic. “Wider.”

You obey, your thighs opening with a soft whine. The air is cool against your slick heat, but you barely register the sensation before Jude’s fingers are on you again, spreading your folds apart.

"Look at this pussy." His voice is reverent, and your body trembles with need. "Fuck, I don't think I’ve ever seen you so wet.”

His fingers delve between your folds, tracing a line from your entrance all the way up to your clit before sliding back down. You gasp, writhing into his touch as he continues his exploration, teasing your cunt with slow, shallow thrusts.

“Mm,” he hums, the sound vibrating against your ass as his lips brush the small of your back. “You really are desperate. Aren’t you? Greedy little slut.”

“Yes,” you whine, your hips jerking into his fingers with a needy cry. “Please, please. I need it. Please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and husky. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’m going to give you what you want. But first, let me get a look at this wet little pussy. Spread yourself open for me.”

You hesitate at the command, unsure what he wants, but Jude’s fingers slide into your cunt again, pulling back to press against your lower lips. He pushes them down and apart, exposing your entrance, and his breath hitches in a sharp gasp.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Look at that.”

His voice is full of awe as he studies you, and heat floods your cheeks at the thought of him so intently focused on your cunt. A finger nudges your entrance, pushing slightly into your hole. “Keep them open for me.”

You nod, your hands trembling as you part your lips for him, completely exposing yourself to his gaze and his touch. His finger pushes inside you once again, and this time, it’s joined by a second one. Your walls stretch around him with a soft gasp, a moan falling from your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers.

“Jude,” you cry, his name slipping from your mouth in a desperate plea. “Please.”

A groan rumbles from his throat, "You like that, don’t you baby? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers? hm? You like it when I take my pussy?”

“Y-yes. God, yes,” you sob. “Always. Always yours.”

His body covers yours then, his chest pressing to your back as he leans into you. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you beg for me,” he whispers in your ear, his tongue trailing along the shell as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. “But I’m not going to let you cum yet. No. Not until you can prove to me that you can wait.”

A whine slips from your lips as his fingers withdraw, leaving you empty and wanting more. “Jude, p-please.”

“Shh.” He presses a kiss against your neck. “Patience.”

His hand leaves your cunt only for a moment before he’s spreading you open again, his thumb pressing into your entrance and sliding in to the knuckle with a slick squelch.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, “Show me how greedy you are.”

Your cunt clings to his thumb, and you moan his name, pushing back against his hand with a whine.

“Faster,” he orders, voice firm, and you comply, thrusting your hips against his thumb.

The room is heavy with the sound of your moans and the wet slide of his thumb fucking your cunt, and Jude’s words come thick with lust. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Please,” you beg, the words tumbling from your lips like a mantra. “Please. I need more.”

“Do you?” His voice is dark with desire. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes,” you sob, “please, Jude.”

“Mm.” He pulls his thumb free, his hand disappearing only for a moment before returning to your cunt. His palm slides through your slickness, spreading it up to your clit. The pad of his thumb brushes the swollen nub, and you cry out as he presses a firm kiss to the curve of your back.

“That’s it. Show me how bad you want it.”

“Jude!” You cry out his name as his thumb rubs your clit in fast, demanding circles, the friction sending another wave of need coursing through your veins. Your hips buck into his hand, and his fingers spread you open wide, displaying you like his own personal pussy. “Please, Jude. Please. I need you,” you whimper, voice heavy with desperation. “I can’t wait anymore.”

He groans into your skin, his voice rasping and raw. “Not yet, baby.”

There’s a pause as his finger replaces his thumb, the digit tracing a line up to your pussy. “Shhh,” he soothes, “Relax.”

A gasp falls from your lips as Jude pushes inside, his finger sinking slowly into your tight heat.

“Look at how good you take it.” His voice is full of praise as he works another finger into you, stretching your walls until you’re clenching tight around his fingers, moaning into the sheets. “Such a good girl for me. You know I love to fill this pussy. my pussy”

“Yes,” you whimper. “I love it too.”

“You’re so fucking perfect.” His words are a dark growl as he adds another finger to the mix, the burn returning as he stretches your walls to accommodate his thickness. “You feel so good.”

Your hips work into his hand as you beg for more, your voice nothing but a broken whine. “Please,” you plead, “Please, Jude.”

His lips kiss along your spine, the words slipping from his mouth like a promise. “Soon. I promise.”

With each thrust of his fingers, your cunt clenches tighter, clamping down on the intrusion with a wet squelch. It’s filthy, raw, and you can’t help the way your hips jerk into his touch, chasing that perfect edge of pleasure and pain.

“You’re so good for me,” he praises, his voice thick and rasping. “So good.” He crooks his fingers, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur as your cunt gushes around him.

“Fuck, you’re getting so messy.” The sound of his pleasure is almost palpable as he pulls his fingers free, his voice low and husky with lust.

Your cunt gapes open in his wake, empty and wanting for more, and Jude groans, his voice a rasping sound. “Look at that. My good little slut. So fucking perfect.”

You shiver, the praise sending another bolt of heat to your core, your hips bucking into the air. Jude’s fingers slide through your slickness once again, using it to wet his cock. “Tell me you want this,” he rasps, slapping the head of his dick against your clit. “Show me what a good little pussy you have.”

You moan at the contact, arching into him like a cat in heat. “I-I do,” you stutter. “Please.”

“Say it again.”

“I want you,” you confess, “I want your cock.”

The words barely leave your lips before his cock is pressing into you, the thick head stretching you until you’re clenching down on him, whining with each inch he slides inside.

“Fuck!” he groans as your walls hug his shaft, holding him tight. "Pussy’s so fucking perfect. Fuck I love it when you take my dick"

“Please, please,” you sob, writhing beneath him. “I’m so close.”

“Good,” he murmurs into your skin. “You can cum whenever you want.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s fucking you in earnest, his thick cock filling you completely as your moans echo through the room.

“Mine,” he grunts into the curve of your neck as he fucks into your cunt with hard, precise strokes. “This pussy is all fucking mine.”

“Yes! God, yes!” Your voice is a scream, your hips rocking back into him with every thrust as he fills you to the brim, his cock rubbing against your g-spot with each movement. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, and you can feel your release barreling towards you like a freight train.

“You feel so fucking good,” Jude rasps in your ear, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chases his own release. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. I love the way you feel around me. Fuck.”

“Close!” you cry, “I’m—oh God!”

Your cunt clamps down on him with a sharp cry, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your vision blurs, and your entire body tenses as Jude fucks into you through your orgasm, his cock pulsing inside you as he groans his own release.

He thrusts once, twice, before pulling out, and you hear a string of curses as he tries to prevent his orgasm. "get on your knees. Open your mouth," he commands.

You immediately obey, pushing yourself up on your knees as you open your mouth.

Jude’s chest heaves as he fists his cock, his eyes black as he stares at you. His gaze is so intense, it makes you tremble. "stick out your tongue for me," he growls.

You do as you're told, sticking out your tongue in a silent invitation.

"Fuck, you really are a good girl. Aren't you?" He steps closer, his hand still wrapped around his cock as he glides it up the flat of your tongue. “That’s it. Open up for me. Show me how good you are.”

You obey as he groans at the sight of you. "Look at you. So fucking pretty," he says, voice low and husky. He grips his cock at the base, rubbing it against your tongue before slapping it against your lips. "Take it," he rasps. "Take it for me."

A moan falls from your lips at the command, and you open your mouth, sucking him into the wet heat of your mouth. Jude’s body shudders as you take him, his hips thrusting into your mouth with a harsh curse.

“Fuck, yes. Good girl. Take it.” He fucks your mouth slowly, his thrusts shallow as you suck him deep. “You like that?” he rasps into your hair. “You like it when I use your mouth?”

You moan around him, nodding with a needy whine as you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks as you work to please him. He groans into the air, his hips snapping into your mouth with more force now, fucking your face like you’re his personal slut.

“Yes,” he murmurs as your hands slide up the back of his thighs to his ass. He fucks your mouth a few more times before he pulls away with a curse, his cock wet and swollen. "look at me. keep looking. Show me your tongue"

You do as he asks, sticking out your tongue as he slaps his cock against it. He groans, hips thrusting into the movement with a growl. "Mmm, good girl. back in your mouth, baby. c'mon . show me what you can do"

You comply, sucking him deep into your mouth and down your throat. A sob wrenches from your chest at the feeling of his cock stretching your throat, choking you, but Jude only holds you in place, his hips pumping into your mouth as he fucks your throat with hard, quick strokes.

“That’s it!” he praises, “fuck, that’s it! Show me how much you love it.”

You suck him harder, working your tongue up the underside of his shaft as he thrusts into your throat. His body trembles above you, his grip tightening in your hair as his words become more incoherent.

His words are a praise-filled murmur as he thrusts into you, fucking your throat and mouth like he owns them. "Oh fuck. Your mouth feels so fucking good." He cups your jaw, angling your head just how he likes, and he fucks harder, hitting the back of your throat as he groans in pleasure. "Yes, baby. Yes. Suck on it like a good slut.”

The filthy words have a moan slipping from you around his cock, and Jude growls, his body stiffening as his pleasure surges.

"yes! suck it baby! you're so fucking good" He thrusts into you a few more times as his body tenses. "I'm close. I'm gonna fucking cum!" he growls as he pulls out of your mouth, your tongue outstretched for him as he rubs his cock between your lips.

"I need you to be a good girl," he rasps, "Show me your good slut, hm?"

You whimper, your fingers curling around his shaft as you rub his cock against your lips with a needy whine. "Please," you sob. "I want it. I want it all."

The sound of his groan fills the air as he strokes his cock against your tongue, his voice thick with lust as he murmurs a praise. “Yes, that's it. Good girl.”

You feel him swell in your grasp, the cockhead bloating with each stroke until he’s spurting ropes of cum onto your tongue. The salty taste of him explodes against your taste buds, and you swallow every drop with a soft sob, sucking his cock dry as he shakes above you.

His body is still trembling as he pulls away from your mouth, his eyes softening as they take in the sight of you on your knees, cum dripping from your lips and onto your chest. A low hum fills his chest as he steps into you, his thumb swiping a line through the cum on your chin.

“Mmm,” he purrs, his thumb pushing into your mouth, “So messy. So fucking pretty.”

You take in his words like a brand, the praise seeping into your blood as you suck his thumb clean.

“Stand up.” His command is soft, but firm, and you obey, rising to your feet as he takes in the sight of your naked form. His eyes trace a line over the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, and the pink mess of your cunt.

“So fucking beautiful.” His voice is reverent as he takes your jaw in his hands, his thumb wiping through the last of the cum on your lips. “My good little slut,” he murmurs.

His fingers trail down your chest, your stomach, and between your legs, pushing through your folds with a soft curse. “Still dripping wet for me.” He groans into your neck. “Always so fucking messy. Look at this.”

He holds out his fingers, the digits slick with your cum. He pushes them against your lips, and you suck them into your mouth on instinct, cleaning them off with a soft moan.

“Good girl,” he praises. His voice is husky, his breath hot against the curve of your ear as he murmurs his next words. “Let's get you cleaned up, hm? Then I'll show you exactly what happens when you're a good little slut for me.” His fingers find your entrance once again.

You groan at the promise, your eyes fluttering closed as his touch sends another wave of lust through you. "Y-yes," you answer, voice trembling.

"Good girl. then let's get cleaned up."

And with that, he pulls you into the bathroom.

-Bianca🌻

[ripdragonbeans]

You Win // modern!Aemond x reader

• Aemond x reader, Aemond x Alys •

Summary: You and Aemond have always had a solid relationship built in trust and love. All that is challenged when Aemond has to take a class led by Professor Alys Rivers.

TW: indefinitely, p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, afab reader, bodily harm, smashing class, physical violence

Part 2 • Epilogue

You hugged Aemond tight and smiled brightly. “Yes, I will go out with you.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek you reached down to interlock his fingers with yours.

Aemond blushed as you two walked around the park. “I didn't think you'd say yes,” he admitted.

“And why would you think that?” You squeezed his hand.

“I thought Jace was gonna ask you out but -”

“But you beat him to it. Well, that, and I'd never go out with him. Jace is like a brother to me, I promise.”

Despite your promise, Aemond looked uneasy.

“Hey,” you stopped to face him and brought both of his hands up to your lips. After giving his knuckles a soft kiss you looked him in the eye. “I promise you I will never look or think of anyone else the way I look and think of you. It is only you for me, no one else. Okay?”

Aemond took a deep breath. “Okay. And I promise the same thing, too. Just us. You and me.”

He bent down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. It wasn't rough or passionate but it was filled with promise and devotion.

Aemond was your rock. He was always there for you. Holding you close, Aemond would whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

At the end of the semester the two of you were able to move off campus and get an apartment for yourselves. It was bliss. Finally, you had your own space and no residential advisor to monitor you.

Coming home from classes was always a relief. Aemond would always be there, ready to welcome you home. He'd pick you up and spin you around while the two of you laugh; complete and utter happiness. Nothing could break you two apart.

“Tell me, babe,” you played with his hands as you used him as a pillow, “what would you have done if Jace asked me out before you and I said yes?”

“I would've done anything and everything in the world to prove to you that you belong to me,” he said. “You are all I want in the world. You have made me the happiest man on campus.”

You tilted your head up and captured his mouth in a sweet kiss. You wound your arms around his neck to help aid you in pulling yourself up. Aemond smiled against you and helped you onto his lap. His lips were perfect against yours.

Carefully, Aemond deepened the kiss and held you closer. When you felt his arousal you began to grind against him. You moaned against him, feeling your core tighten. Your hands moved to his hair, pulling at it. You wanted - no, needed - him closer.

Aemond's hands squeezed your thighs before tracing up your body and cupping your breasts. You sighed; the feel of him against you was comforting. He slid his hands back down to the hem of your shirt and delicately lifted it up over your head.

Aemond looked at you, pure awe in his eyes. “Fuck, you're beautiful. Although this,” he snapped the strap of the bra against you, “could leave.”

“Then take it off,” you whispered and kissed down to his collarbone.

“Gods, you drive me crazy.” He unclasped your bra and quickly latched on to a nipple.

The sensation had you arching your back.

“Aemond,” you moaned.

He hummed against you, making your core clench and your hands dig in his hair. You began to grind harder on him. You wanted the release so badly.

“Please, baby,” you murmured.

He released with an obscene pop. “Does my baby want to cum?”

You looked at him with big eyes and nodded your head.

A hand drifted down to your pants and he slid them off. He cupped your center.

“Gods, you're soaking through your panties.”

He began rubbing you over your panties and it felt so good. You were grinding hard against his hand. When he pushed aside the panty and stuck a finger in, you moaned loudly.

“That's it, such a good girl.” Aemond's eye was locked in you.

You bucked against him. “More, please!”

“Since you asked so nicely -” he plunged a second and third finger into you.

“Holy fuck, Aemond!”

His fingers curved inside you and found that sweet spot. Pushing you back on the couch, he freed his other hand from around you so he could rub your clit. It was so much. He smiled, watching you writhe in pleasure. Leaning down, he captured a pert nip in his mouth and began to suck on it.

“Aemond, FUCK!”

You came when he pushed against your clit and hit that sweet spot. Stars flooded your vision as wave after wave of pleasure hit you.

Aemond kissed you hard as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“I need to be inside you,” he growled.

His pants were quick to go as you slipped his shirt over his head. His hands went to remove his boxers but you stopped him.

“I want to do it,” you said with a mischievous look in your eye.

Aemond leaned back and let you slip them off. You looked at him, always amazed at how stunning he looked. His cock was thick and standing at attention. You took it in your grasp and softly rubbed your thumb over the head. Aemond groaned and bucked up into your hand.

Slowly you leaned forward and dragged your tongue from the base of his cock to its head. He put his hand on the top of your head but didn't push down.

You took him in your mouth inch by inch, letting him fill you up. He began to drip precum on your tongue and you gladly lapped it up. He tasted divine.

When you swallowed, he let out an audible groan. As you began to bob your head up and down he met you with his own thrusts. When his grip on your hair started to tighten you knew he was getting close. You wanted to swallow him all, for him to finish in your mouth, but Aemond had a different idea. Once he was able to pull out of you he fiercely gripped your face and brought it up to his to meet in a deadly kiss.

He pushed you back down on the couch and lined himself up with you. Legs spread, you eagerly awaited the sensation of him filling you up. You felt the head of his cock brush against you and you moaned. He was so close. He rubbed it through your folds, back and forth. Just the simple action had you arching your back again.

“Shhh, be patient. You’ll get my cock soon enough,” Aemond whispered.

You whimpered, holding yourself back.

After what seemed forever, Aemond finally pushed inside you. He was so thick, so big. You could never get used to the blissful stretch. He always made you feel so good. When he was fully sheathed inside you, he hovered his face just above yours.

“Tell me to move.” Aemond kissed your cheek.

“Please, please, move,” you begged.

“Anything for my princess.”

Aemond captured your lips in a searing kiss as he began to pump in and out of you. You met his thrusts with those of your own. Staring up at him in your own world of pleasure you couldn’t come to terms with just how gorgeous he was. It was as though he was an angel created by one of the gods. His long silver hair draped down as though it was a curtain hiding you from the world as he made love to you. You could never get enough of him and you never wanted to let him go. Suddenly, he pulled out, making you whine at the loss of his presence

“On your hands and knees, princess,” he commanded.

You did as you were told and stuck your ass up in the air. You loved it when he fucked you from behind.

Aemond’s cock began going through your folds again. You pressed against him, hungry for him to be inside you once more. He slapped your ass then quickly drove himself inside you. This time he set a brutal pace. This wasn’t love making. This was fucking. And gods did you love it. You bit down on a pillow to muffle your scream.

Aemond lifted you up to him. “Don’t do that; I want to hear everything.”

He dropped you down, and when you were back on your hands he began rutting into you. He was so fast, he was fucking you so hard, and being in this position had him hitting all the right spots. You tried to match him the best that you could. Aemond wound his arm around you and began to play with your clit. You moaned, not bothering to hold it in.

“Does my princess feel good?” he panted.

The best you could do was mumble something incoherent. It didn’t matter. He knew he made you feel good.

When Aemond pressed on your clit you screamed. When told you push against him you did as you were told. Everything was becoming overwhelming but so wonderful. His thrusts had your face in the pillow, your arms too tired to hold you up longer. He never stopped. Your core clenched every time he hit that special spot and you cried out in pleasure when he did it over and over again.

“Aemond, please -”

“Please, what, princess?”

“Please let me come,” you whimpered.

He pulled you up and laid down on his back, you still on top. He fucked you from underneath you and it was heavenly.

“I want you to cum all over my cock like this.”

One hand went back to your clit while the other went to your tits and he started playing with your nipples. Every time he thrust deep up you cried. Every time you cried he’d gently bite your neck then soothe it with his tongue. The pleasure was reaching its peak. So soon you’d reach your orgasm.

Aemond picked up the pace, fucking you harder. His grip on your tit tightened.

“Come for me, princess.”

The scream that ripped out of you as you reached your orgasm was like no other. Your body shook with pleasure as Aemond continued to fuck you through it, chasing after his own peak. Even as your orgasm subsided, Aemond was still pumping into you. So sensitive from you last two, you were on the verge of a third.

“I’m gonna come,” Aemond rasped out.

With one final thrust, he spilled his seed into you. His whole body trembled and he held you tight as he finished his peak.

When Aemond went limp under you, you pulled him out of your core and rolled over so you were facing him.

“Gods, I love you,” you told him as you brushed his hair off of his face.

“I love you, too, princess,” he brought you in for a soft kiss. “I will never leave you.”

When the second semester came around, the two of you still shared the same apartment. At this point it was a second home for the both of you. Five months and you two were still going strong. Aemond made a point to tell you every night that he loves you and wouldn’t choose anyone else. He was your person and you were his.

“Any interesting classes this semester?” you asked him one night as you lay on the couch.

“Nothing much. I have this,” he pulled out his phone. “‘Professor Rivers’ and there’s been some rumors about her.”

You scrunched your nose. “I’ve heard those rumors, too. Stay away from her, please?”

“What, you don’t trust me?” His tone was playful.

“I trust you, I don’t trust her.”

“You have nothing to be worried about, princess. I only have eyes for you.”

You pressed your forehead against his. “And I only have eyes for you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Time to go to bed, babe. I have an eight a.m and I don’t want to be late on the first day.”

“That’s fair.” Aemond stretched. “But I get to carry you to bed.”

“Carry me to - Aemond!” you laughed as he picked you up bridal style. “Maybe one day you can do this when I’m wearing white.”

He sighed wistfully at the thought. “One day.”

Even with new schedules, you and Aemond were still able to have your routine of him welcoming you home after classes. It was something you always looked forward to; what made your day bearable.

On weekends the two of you would go on a walk at the same park you started dating. It was a special place for you; a place of pure happiness. Rain or shine, you'd walk together. It was a reminder of the promises you made to each other that day.

“I love our walks,” you told him one day. You leaned against him.

Aemond hummed. “Me too, princess.”

In a comfortable silence the two of you walked. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into Professor Rivers.

She was in workout clothes; a sports bra and leggings that showed off everything. You glanced at Aemond and found him staring at her. You brushed it off. It hurt, it made you jealous, but you knew it was just a guy being a guy whenever they see someone working out.

“Oh, hey, Aemond!” Professor Rivers greeted. “And you must be his girlfriend, I presume?”

Aemond opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “Yes, I am. And how are you?” You knew you had to keep things civil but alarms were going off in your head.

“Oh, I'm doing fine.” She stretched, putting her hands on her back and leaning backwards. The stretch made her chest pop out even more and it had you feeling self conscious. “Nothing like a good workout in the morning, right?” She winked at Aemond.

That wink made your blood turn cold. Is she hitting on him?

You coughed. “Anyway, we're going to continue our walk. Have a good day, Professor Rivers.”

You gave her a little nod and pulled Aemond along behind you.

“Oh, Aemond!” Professor Rivers called back to him. “Don't forget our meeting in my office tomorrow!”

You could have sworn Aemond’s hand grew clammy but once again, you brushed it aside.

“Yes, Professor Rivers,” came his short reply.

Professor Rivers gave him another wink before jogging off in the other direction.

You couldn't help the feeling that you were missing something. That whole interaction made you very uncomfortable. You looked at Aemond and saw him shuffling awkwardly. Looking down, you could see the slight bulge in his pants. You scoffed but didn't say anything. If he was going to get turned on by his professor it was fine as long as he didn't do anything about it. At least that's what you told yourself.

One of the best things about the end of the day was being welcomed home by Aemond. He'd pull you in a cozy hug and kiss the top of your head before pulling you over to the couch for some cuddles. After a month of classes, though, he stopped being there.

“Hey, babe, why aren't you home anymore?” You asked him one day.

“What do you mean?” He was pouring through a book.

“I mean you're not home when I'm done with my classes anymore.”

“I've just been busy. Classes this semester have been rough. They're definitely harder than last semester so I've been busting my ass at the library.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Why?”

“I was just wondering, I guess. I always look forward to seeing you after classes.”

“I'm sorry, princess.” He came up to you and kissed your forehead. “I promise once things calm down I'll be back to welcome you home. It's one of my favorite things as well.” He kissed you softly.

“Okay. Thank you, Aemond.” You nuzzled him with your nose. “I'm just… I know the rumors about Professor Rivers and the way she winked at you when we were on our walk gave me a bad feeling.”

“Professor Rivers? You're worried about her? She's just my professor, princess. I promise you there's nothing to worry about. She's a flirt, yes, but I deny her every time.”

You stiffened. “You have to deny her? And you haven't told me about this?”

Worry crossed Aemond's face. “I didn't want to tell you because I was worried you'd get upset. I promise she will never trump you. She is simply my teacher. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You took a deep breath. “Okay, I trust you.”

“And I love you. Nothing can break us apart.”

Since Aemond has been working on his school work late in the day, your new favorite time has been going to bed. Not only were you tired from the day, but it was also when Aemond would wrap you in his arms and you'd fall asleep to each other’s heart beat. It was calm, it was comforting, it was right. Some nights you'd still have energy for sex but he's been coming home so tired that you eventually stopped asking for it. Aemond noticed this and was concerned.

“Do you not want to be intimate anymore?” He asked you.

You two were laying in bed, both staring at the ceiling.

You sighed. “I do, but every time you come home you're already tired and I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to.”

“I will admit that the project I've been working on has been exhausting me, but I don't want that to get in the way of us.”

“Aemond,” you rolled over to face him. “If you don't want to have sex, that's fine. It's not the center piece of our relationship. Our is based off of love and trust. And if that means we have to sacrifice sex for a while, then so be it.”

Aemond shuddered and refused to look at you. It was slightly concerning. “Love and trust…”

“Yes, my dear. Love and trust. Don't get me wrong, I miss being intimate with you but I will never force you to do it if you're too tired, okay?”

He nodded. He still didn't turn to look at you. So you placed a hand under his chin and silently guided it so his eye could meet yours.

“There is nothing I want more than to simply be with you. Sex is merely a perk for me. The real gift is you.”

“Gods, you are perfect. How I ended up with you is a mystery.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you, and if I ever hurt you, know that I never meant to.”

“Aemond, you could never hurt me. You have my heart and I trust that you will always keep it safe.”

One day you received an email from Professor Rivers to meet with her during a specific office hour. It was odd considering you weren't her student; Aemond was. There was something inside you that didn’t want to follow her instruction, to walk away, but you ignored it and made your way to her office.

The hallway her office was in was quiet. Most of the other faculty members had already left. As you neared her door, however, you heard…squeaking? It was a steady rhythmic squeak. Something in your stomach dropped but you didn’t know why. He wasn’t with her, was he? She said she called both of you to her office but that couldn’t be it. Getting closer to the door, the noises got louder. Then you could hear the voices.

“Yes! Yes, right there!”

Then a male grunt.

“Fuck me like you fuck her!”

This didn’t make any sense to you. So before you lost your cool, you opened the door.

And there they were.

Aemond. Fucking Professor Rivers from behind.

No. No. This couldn’t be happening.

Alys screamed as she came on Aemond’s cock. You noticed his thrusts got sloppy, just like how they do when he’s with you. He came, his cock still inside her. Gods, you hoped he was wearing a condom.

As both of their orgasms faded they looked up at the open door.

Then they saw you.

Alys’ face was filled with ruthless glee.

Aemond looked ashamed.

Alys carefully got off of Aemond and fixed her skirt. “I see you made it to our little meeting.”

You just stared at her.

“You see, I told Aemond to drop you so he could be with me but he, what did he say? ‘Refuse to hurt you.’” Alys smirked. “He still kept coming to me, though. So, I thought why not just let you see for yourself.”

“Aemond…” you whispered. Your heart was broken. Shattered.

“No, please, princess, this is not what -”

“Don’t call me princess! I was never your princess, was I?” you looked at him with tears streaming down your face.

Aemond fixed his pants and tried to get to you but you stepped away from him.

“Don’t come fucking near me!” You stopped breathing, your heart stopped beating. Everything was just frozen. “Why?”

“Yes, Aemond. Tell her why,” Alys prompted him. She came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Tell her when you started to love me,” she whispered loud enough for you to hear.

“Love her?” Your voice broke.

“It was an accident, I swear. I never meant to hurt you,” Aemond tried to say. “I never -

“Meant to fall in love,” you completed the sentence for him.

“No, no, I don’t love Alys.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Alys. You don’t even call her Professor Rivers.”

“Yes, I mean no. I mean. I don’t love her. I only love you.”

“What a fucking lie, Aemond.”

“Go on,” Alys wanted the conversation to continue. To her it was entertainment. “Tell her how you started to visit me during office hours, and how you wanted me to sit so close to you. Tell her how you relaxed into my touch. How you accepted our first kiss.”

You began to tremble. “Aemond, please, gods no. Make her stop.”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear all of it? You never wondered why he stayed out so late?”

“He told me he was working on a project at the library, and like a good fucking girlfriend I trusted him.”

“Oh, sweetie. He wasn’t doing a project. He was doing me,” Alys winked. “Gods, he fucks so good, doesn’t he? The way his fingers find that perfect spot, how his cock can hit it when he fucks you from behind, how -”

“STOP! Stop this right now.” You looked at Alys. “This is just a game for you, isn’t it?”

“A game? Well, of course it is!” She chuckled. “It’s always fun when a student falls in love with me.” She turned to Aemond, who was looking at her with a wide eye. “What? You think that you were the first and only? My dear, how naive.”

“You told me,” Aemond started. “You told me you loved me.”

“Yes, I did. And you believed it. What a shame. I think this one,” Alys nodded at you, “loves you though. Or at least she did. You fucked it up. What a shame. It was fun to watch you squirm whenever I was near the two of you. She always looked so concerned but never said anything. What a good girlfriend.”

You took in a deep breath and looked at Alys and Aemond. “If this is just a game, if we were just a game Aemond, then congratulations. I give up. You've won. You've taken my heart and shattered it.”

Without a second glance at either of them, you left the office. As soon as you go out of the building you sprinted to your apartment. The vision of Alys and Aemond fucking was stuck in your head and it would’nt leave you. You ran as fast as you could, running away from the one you loved, the one who has shattered your heart.

When you arrived at your apartment you ran to the bathroom and locked the door. You felt sick. You wanted to throw up. Collapsing at the base of the toilet you began to wretch up everything you ate within the last eight hours. You were crying. Tears were falling down your face, snot was running, and vomit was hanging on your lips, dangling above the toilet water. You spit a few times, getting all the vomit out. You grabbed some toilet paper to wipe your mouth as you stood up. You caught your reflection in the mirror. You hated it. You hated everything you saw. 

A guttural scream came out from inside you as you punched the mirror as hard as you could. Once. Twice. Three times. You were screaming and sobbing, your fist hurt, there was glass everywhere. When you finally stopped, the mirror was in pieces all around the floor. Blood was dripping down your fist. It wasn’t until then that you heard the pounding at the door.

“Please, princess, let me in!” Aemond called from the other side.

“I’m not your fucking princess. Leave me alone!” You put a hand on the door, as if to reach through it and touch him, but instead you slid down onto the floor, leaving a strip of blood in your hand’s wake.

“Please, I’m begging you to open the door. I need to know you’re safe.”

Staring at the door you weighed your options. You could stay here all night and listen to him attempt to talk to you, or you could tear the band aid off and deal with him now. You chose the second option.

“Thank the gods -”

SLAP

“Never. Call. Me. Princess. Again.”

Aemond looked at you with pain in his eye. 

“You're bleeding.”

“Yes, I am.”

Aemond moved quickly, getting a wet towel and wrapping it around your knuckle. “I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered.

“You mean you never meant for me to find about you fucking your professor?” You glared at him. “You know, your sister even told me about the rumors surrounding her and I still trusted you. I trusted that you would stay away, that you would be loyal to me.”

“I am still devoted to you, prin -”

“Don’t call me that!” You took another swing at Aemond but he backed away. “You’re not devoted to me, Aemond. You stopped being devoted when she fucking kissed you and you didn’t push her away! You stopped when you kept going to her. You stopped when you started fucking her.”

He took a deep breath and took a careful step towards you. You reared your arm back, ready to try to strike him again if he got too close. The pain on his face was evident, and it broke your heart not to go to him, to comfort him, but you held your ground.

“I do not love her. I made a mistake, a stupid mistake. I will do whatever it takes for you to trust me again.” Tears were brimming on the edge of his eye.

“That’s the thing, Aemond.” A tear ran down your cheek. “I don’t think I can ever trust you after this.” 

Aemond started crying broken sobs.

“And yet I still love you,” you whispered.

“Then let me love you,” he reached for you.

You reeled back, as though he was burning hot. “Never again, Aemond,” you said through your sobs. “Never again.”

You pushed past him to go to your room and start packing up your things.

“No, what are you doing?” His voice was raspy.

“I’m leaving, Aemond. You broke me. I can’t be with someone who will do that to me.”

“Give me some time, a second chance, please!” he begged.

“YOU HAD YOUR SECOND CHANCE!” you paused to ground yourself. “You had your second chance when I asked you why you were coming home late. That was your chance to tell me the truth, but no, you lied to me. You lied to me just so you could get your dick wet.”

“Princ-” he stopped himself. “Stay, please don’t leave us.”

“I’m not leaving. You already left. I’m just going home.” You looked at him, resolved not to break down as you left the apartment. “Goodbye, Aemond. You win.”