#Still got the deep water fear

[circuitsofgold]

I’d like to piggyback off of this post for a moment. I don't want to reblog it because it and the the replies are focused on the Architects. Which is cool and all, I remember being intrigued at a linked sentient species like that.

But I want to talk about the kharaa's involvement in the Degasi subplot in the base game.

They already didn't get along. Well, at least Paul and Maida didn't. Bart was just kind of there as a timid boy overshadowed by his father's presence. Maida was loyal to Paul since he was the one paying her. She was likely used to a rough life whereas he was the sort of man who had wanted for nothing in a long time.

but when the infection sets in. It starts with being itchy. But one of the symptoms is aggression. And we can hear the progression. Bart starts to stand up to his father. Paul and Maida really start clashing.

( and one could argue that she was the one to get them killed. Or at least Paul. When she drags back a leviathan. The recording makes it sound like a ghost which would make sense for the biome because there is a ghost leviathan in the vicinity. But she has a reaper skull in her base in SubZero? )

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

- sylus x reader

you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!

note: very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)

“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”

On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.

“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”

“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—

—fell into Luke's arms.

In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—

“What are you doing?”

And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.

“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.

However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”

Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.

“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.

But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”

“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.

As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?

As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.

“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”

“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”

Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.

“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”

You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”

“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”

You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”

It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”

You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”

“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”

“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”

. . .

“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”

Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”

"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”

“You don’t have to…”

“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”

“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”

Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"

You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”

There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—

But after a while...

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”

You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.

But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.

But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.

“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.

“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”

“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”

If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.

“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”

A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”

Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.

He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.

“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”

“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”

“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”

A wicked grin curved his lips.

“I'll pick up where I left off.”

[celestialprincesse]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

When Simon had given you his work address, and the password for the door to get in, you’d scoffed at the thought of needing to use it. You’d grown comfortable in your quiet life, no longer plagued with the urge to run, with the fear of being caught up with. 

You and Charlotte. 

You’d never been able to picture your position now, shaking fingers prodding at the keypad, a crying Charlotte on your hip. So absorbed in your fear, which had struck you the moment you’d returned from Charlotte’s school pickup to see your apartment door open, that you don’t even see the bearded man opening up the door from the inside for you. 

“Everything alright, Miss?” He questions in clear concern, ushering you into the entry hall with blue eyes darting between yourself and your wailing daughter. 

“I’m here - Simon said i could find him here if I needed anything.” You hiccup, not even having noticed the tears ebbing down your cheeks, so consumed by the realisation that you need to get out. Find safety. Find Simon. Maybe even that other man you met once - Mac something.

Too distraught to protest, you allow yourself to be ushered into some sort of reception room, noting the way the older man looks behind you with a vigilant scan before shutting the door. "Is Simon Riley here?" You plead with him again, terrified at the thought of being unable to see your neighbour, having someone to soothe your wailing daughter whilst you yourself calm down.

Before the blue eyed man can get a word out, two other men are barrelling into the reception area, one of them, thankfully, being Simon. You can't help but choke out a relieved sob when he tentatively comes closer, allowing you the chance to deny his approach, which you don't.

"What happened? Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

The entire room seems to pick up into a flurry of activity the minute the other two men in the room, Simon's friend you'd met that one time, and the other man, seem to realise that not only do you and Simon know one another, but also that you and the little tot in your arms are important to him.

Simon quickly ushers you to one of the worn leather couches, although he never forces you to sit, seeing how high strung you are at the current moment, the way you clutch Charlotte to your chest like she'll be ripped from your grasp at any given moment. Meanwhile, MacTavish looks on in concern, checking the car park you'd just come in from, and the other man slowly guides a glass of water into your shaking hand.

"Door was open when I got home." You manage to choke, letting Simon ease your vice grip on your daughter, just enough to hoist her up on his hip, before pulling you into his chest.

"S' okay, yeah? Promise you're in good hands here." He soothes, rocking the three of you from side to side, taking the opportunity to share a look between Price, Soap and himself. "Listen, the boys will go and have a look, okay? Promise they won't touch anything or mess anything up, just make sure everything is okay."

You give a hesitant nod, sniffling into Simon's chest as another taller, leaner man walks into the room, his handsome features immediately twisting into concern at the odd sight.

Over the next few hours, you, Simon, Charlotte and the sweet man you'd come to know as Kyle wait out on base, nervously awaiting the return of Captain Price and Simon's closest friend Johnny.

Admittedly, your situation is terrifying, and you're still not quite sure where to go from here, but at least you're in good hands. Four pairs of them.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[abdallah-gaza]

Very important, please give me a minute of your time and read my story.❤️🍉🇵🇸

My previous account was banned, you can, it was starting to spread and my campaign got attention but unfortunately it was banned, you can see it from HERE

I will rewrite my story again. I hope you read it carefully and help if you can.

I am Abdullah Musa, I am 20 years old. I am still a young man. I do not have any job and I cannot get money. It is unfortunate to ask for money in this way, but that is life.

The campaign started after hesitation and deep thinking, but I saw myself forced to do this campaign for several reasons. The first and most important reason is to evacuate from war, fear, and the terrifying sounds of bombs and planes, to escape from living in a tent, to escape from fear. I want a life in which there are only the basics (water, food, electricity, internet, and safety).

The second goal, which is very important to me, is to study medicine and complete my dream that I had since childhood. I had started my first year of university and I was planning my future and dreams, but everything went away when the war came and destroyed my university. Yesterday, I started studying in Egypt and my friend sent me a picture from the beginning of the school year. It was a sad feeling.

This is a picture of me when I was a kid and my dreams were there.

You can donate to me through:

(Before you donate, remember that you will change my life for the better.

1. GFM

2. PAYPAL

VITTED BY

1. @90-ghost LINK VITTED

2 . Gaza Fundraiser List by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi . LINK315

@awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @junglejim4233 @heritageposts @pcktknife @chososhairbuns @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness

@visenyasdragons @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda

@4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural

@northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @sygol @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @ot3 @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @a-shade-of-blue

@tortiefrancis @tsaricides @flower-tea-fairies @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @feluka @nabulsi @khizuo @transmutationisms

@schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry

[malachitezmeyka]

Y’know, for someone who developed such extreme thalassophobia as a child that she refused to go into the sea unless her mom held her the entire time, screamed at the sight of seaweed and refused to watch Finding Nemo with her sister and cousin, it sure is ironic that out of all mythical creatures it was MERMAIDS I made a Kuviren AU for

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sex on the Beach

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Suncream...cum, is there a difference? Bucky is painting you either way.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: bratty reader with Bucky doing his best at taming, teasing, oral sex (m), bucky fucking your tits, p in v sex, sarge/good girl kink, fingering, creampie, Bucky getting his own back at the end.

A/N: Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

As Bucky sprawled out across the plush double sun lounger, his chiseled physique on full display in nothing but a pair of well-fitted swim trunks, he exuded an air of pure tranquility. The Ray-ban sunglasses you had thoughtfully gifted him just before the trip now shielded his eyes from the late morning sun's gentle rays, which danced across his lightly tanned skin. Every muscle in his body was completely relaxed, not a hint of tension to be found, as he teetered on the edge of drifting off into a blissful morning nap.

The lounger was situated on the expansive deck of Tony's luxurious Hamptons beach house, mere steps away from the glistening, azure waters of the pool and the endless horizon of the ocean beyond. The expertly positioned fencing surrounding the property offered the two of you a welcome sense of privacy, shielding you from prying eyes while still allowing the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the nearby shoreline to reach your ears.

When you had first packed for the weekend getaway, the weather forecast had called for nothing but rain and stormy conditions, and you had almost left your vibrant yellow bikini behind, certain that there would be no opportunity to don it. However, Bucky had insisted that you bring it along, and now you were endlessly grateful that you had heeded his advice, eagerly anticipating the chance to join him in soaking up the unexpected sunshine.

As you emerged from the pool, the cool, refreshing water droplets glistening on your skin, you couldn't help but marvel at the unseasonably warm weather. The sun's golden rays felt almost soothing against your unclad flesh, a stark contrast to the chill of the pool you had just left. With a towel wrapped snugly around your waist, you cast a playful, impish glance over at Bucky, who hadn't moved from his reclined position on the nearby lounge chair, sunglasses perched on his nose. A mischievous smirk crept across your lips as you bent down and scooped up a handful of the chlorinated pool water, your fingertips lightly skimming the surface. Carefully, you tiptoed over to where Bucky lay, the water sloshing gently in your cupped palms. 

Though his eyes were shielded by dark lenses, you knew Bucky's heightened senses were ever alert, a byproduct of his turbulent past living in fear - whether under HYDRA's control or on the run. Sure enough, as you neared him, one of Bucky's eyes snapped open, his body instantly tensing, ready to spring into action at the first sign of perceived danger. But when he saw it was merely you, a playful glint in your eye and a splash of water in your hands, his posture relaxed, and he sat up, the sunglasses sliding down his nose as he fixed you with a playful glare, silently daring you to make your move.

“Whatcha doin’ there, doll?”

You flicked the remaining water droplets in your hand at him but they barely reached his bare chest.

“That the best you got?” he taunted, his piercing gaze daring you to try again.

“Not even close,” you replied with a mischievous grin, letting the towel slip just slightly as you pretended to consider your next move.

Bucky raised a single, dark eyebrow, his playful glare still firmly in place. “You think you can just come at me with that pathetic splash? I’d be ashamed if I were you,” he goaded, his deep, rumbling voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Unable to resist the challenge, you let out a bright, carefree laugh that seemed to dance in the air around you. “Oh really? Is that a challenge, Barnes?” you retorted, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you prepared to retaliate, the tension between you electric.

“Depends on what your idea of a challenge is. Because if it involves getting me wet, you might just succeed.” He smirked, leaning back slightly as if preparing for something.

You laughed, sitting down beside him, letting your wet skin rub against his as you rubbed the towel along your arms. “Do my sunscreen?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at him and batting your eyelids coquettishly.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he shuffled closer. “Sunscreen, huh? You sure that's all you need me for?” he asked huskily.

He was halfway through a playful eye roll when your hands moved to the back of your neck, swiftly undoing the halterneck string of your bikini top to reveal your soft breasts. “Don’t want to risk getting tan lines,” you smirked at his widening eyes.

“Of course not,” he mumbled, shaking his head at your antics.

“So you gonna help me or not?”

“Get over here.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and hoisted you into his lap. With his flesh arm he flicked open the bottle of sunscreen, making the same popping sound that you associated with him opening a bottle of lube and you felt a shiver through your body, your skin erupting in goosebumps.

Bucky noticed immediately, there wasn’t anything he missed when it came to your body’s responses. “Cold?” he smirked.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Bucky pulled you closer, his chest pressed flush against your back, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. Despite the warm fall air, a shiver of anticipation still rippled down your spine at the feel of his body against yours.

“N-No,” you breathed out, your voice a breathless whisper. “Just a bit… sensitive.”

Bucky's eyes darkened further, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he felt your shiver and heard the huskiness in your voice. He knew the effect he had on you, and he loved it.

He leaned in, his voice low and deep, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Sensitive, hmm?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. One of his hands drifted downwards, tracing a slow, tortuous path along your bare hip.

"Mmm, don't forget the front," you moaned.

Bucky's smirk grew even more wicked at the sound of your moan, his chest rumbling with a low, appreciative growl. He shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips, giving him full access to your front.

He leaned back, the sunlight casting a glow around his head like a halo, his eyes roving hungrily over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin.

"Are you just going to sit and stare? Or you want me to get burned?”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he met your gaze, his hands still resting on your hips.

"Patience, doll. I'm just admiring the view," he teased, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hips, sending prickling shivers through your body.

Slowly, he began to apply the sunscreen on your torso, his hands moving in sensual, deliberate circles, covering every inch of your skin in the creamy liquid.

Bucky's hands slowed as they reached the curves of your breasts, his palms hovering mere inches away, as if reluctant to touch them just yet. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze dark and hungry. He swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

"You don't know how hard it is to keep my hands off you, doll," he murmured, his voice gruff, his hands slowly moving closer, his thumbs just barely brushing against the swell of your tits.

You leaned forward so your hardened nipples grazed his chest. "Who said you had to?”

Bucky's breath hitched at the feel of your nipples gliding across his chest, a low, guttural moan rumbled in his throat. He shifted his hips, his growing hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

"Mmm, doll. You're a damn tease, you know that?" he panted, his fingers digging into your hips, his thumbs still brushing against your sensitive skin, teasing but not quite touching where you wanted.

"Who's teasing?" You asked innocently, pushing your ass down into the growing bulge in his trunks.

Bucky's eyes darkened, his expression shifting from playful to downright feral, the veins in his arms bulging as his muscles tensed. He let out a growl, his voice deep and strained.

"Oh, you're playing with fire now doll," he warned, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his body quivering with barely restrained desire. He bit his lip, trying to hold back, but it was taking all his willpower not to throw you down onto the lounger and take you right then and there.

"The only fire I'm feeling right now is that giant ball in the sky that's unevenly tanning my boobs right now," you pouted.

Bucky let out another soft growl.

"Aww, did I make you mad?" You put on a baby voice.

Bucky huffed out a sardonic laugh, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your hip. He was far too distracted by the feel of your body on top of his to be truly angry.

"Mad? Nah, doll. Just struggling to control myself with you being so damn frisky right now." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto yours, the heat in his gaze undeniable. "Question is, what’re you gonna do about it?”

"Want me to kiss it better?" You leaned forward with pouty lips.

Bucky's eyes darkened at the sight of your pouting lips, his resolve slowly crumbling. This teasing game you were playing was getting torturous, but damn if he wasn't loving it. He reached up, his hand cupping your chin, his thumb tracing along your lower lip.

"Mmm, I think I might need a little more than just a kiss, doll. You're being a brat and you know it.”

"Ask nicely.”

Bucky bit his lip, his breathing growing heavier as your defiance only seemed to fuel his desire. His hand threaded through your hair, pulling you closer until your faces were mere inches apart.

"Please, doll," he said huskily, his voice low and thick with lust. "Stop being such a damn tease and let me have you.”

"Only if you're good, Sarge." You bit your lip seductively.

Bucky's breath hitched at the sound of the nickname, a low moan rumbling in his chest. You knew how much he loved it when you called him that, and the effect it had on him was always immediate.

"Doll, you know damn well I'm always good," he said huskily, his eyes locked on your lips as you bit them seductively, his hand in your hair gently pulling your head back, exposing your neck. "But today, you're going to need to follow my orders.”

Your walls fluttered with excitement at his words and you bit back a moan.

Bucky smirked at the reaction he saw in your eyes, his gaze raking over your body possessively. He could see the effect his words had on you, and it only made him more possessive. He knew your weakness, just like you knew his.

"So obedient," he murmured, his mouth hovering over your neck, his lips just barely grazing your skin. "But I want to hear you say it. What’s the safe word?”

You whined against his ear, wiggling your ass in his lap. "Oklahoma.”

Bucky let out a harsh breath, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second as your body moved against his in his lap. He took a moment to collect himself before opening his eyes, a smug look on his face as he looked at you.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips finally claiming your neck, his mouth hot against your skin. "Now, why don't you get on your knees and show me how good you can be for me?”

"No, thank you.”

Bucky's eyes widened slightly at your defiant reply. No one disobeyed him, especially not when he had laid out clear instructions.

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of a warning.

"Doll, you can’t be defying my orders already. I know you know the punishment for being a disobedient little brat. Is that what you want? A reminder of who’s in charge here?”

"You're so cute when you try and control me, even though we both know that I'm in charge," you smirked.

A deep rumble left Bucky's throat at your words. He knew you were playing, pushing his buttons and testing his patience, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

"Oh really, doll? You think you're in charge?" he purred, his eyes darkening as he held your gaze, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to.”

"Do it, I dare you.”

Bucky's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam at your challenge. It was as if you were dangling a steak in front of a lion, and expecting it not to pounce. You were playing with fire, and he was itching to teach you a lesson.

In a swift, fluid movement, Bucky shifted your position on his lap so that you were lying back on the lounger. He hovered over you, his body pressed against yours, trapping you beneath him.

"Oh doll, I'm gonna do more than just remind you," he growled. "You're gonna do as you're told.”

"Yeah?" you asked breathily.

Bucky smirked at the breathlessness in your voice. It was clear that you were already affected, your body responding to his proximity, his touch. He brought his face closer to yours, his lips hovering just millimeters from your ear. His voice was rough and low, carrying a threat that made your heart skip.

"Yep. I'm gonna teach you a damn lesson in obedience, doll. And you're gonna love every second of it.”

"Oh, am I?”

Bucky leaned back to look at you, his eyes raking over your body, taking in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. He could see the effect he was having on you, and it only served to make him more confident.

"Damn right you are," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I can see it in your eyes, doll. You love it when I get all dominant, when I take charge. And I love it when I have you all submissive and pliant, begging for more.”

You could only whimper in response, your body consumed by the arousal and promise of his cock.

Bucky smirked, noticing your inability to form a response. He could easily see how turned on you were, how badly you wanted him to take you. His eyes darkened with a mixture of lust and satisfaction. Slowly and sensually he rolled his hips against your core.

"See, doll? You can try to play the brat, but deep down, you know what you want. You want me to be in charge, to take control and make you feel good. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do.”

"Good luck... with... that." You wanted to continue with your little game but his proximity had your resolve faltering. 

Bucky chuckled at your attempt to keep up this charade, but he could see that your resolve was weakening. Your body was responding to his proximity, betraying your act of nonchalance.

He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Doll, you forget who you're dealing with," he murmured. "I've got you all figured out, and I know all your weaknesses. You can try to resist, but deep down I know you're craving my touch, begging for it, in fact.”

"So what are you gonna do about it?" you challenged softly.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your challenge, his smile turning into a predatory grin. He knew damn well what he was going to do, and he was aching to show you just how in control he was.

"Oh doll, don't tempt me," he warned, his voice low and husky. "I can think of plenty of things I could do to a disobedient little brat like you. But I think you'll find it hard to keep up this act when I've got you pleading and begging.”

"Oh please, I can do this all day.”

Bucky chuckled at your defiant words, taking in your flushed cheeks and breathless state. He could see the effect he was having on you, the way your body was responding to him, even as you tried to keep up your act.

"Is that so, doll?" he taunted. "You think you can keep this up all day, huh? We'll just see about that.”

For the first time since you started this game, you held your tongue. You welcomed whatever punishment he had in store for you... you craved it.

Bucky smirked at your sudden silence, sensing the shift in your attitude. It was clear that you were finally submitting to him, and he loved it. He could see the desire in your eyes, the need for him to take control and give you what you wanted.

"Looks like someone finally realized who's in charge," he murmured, his hands roaming over your body, tracing gentle patterns on your skin, his touch both soothing and dominating.

"Ready to be a good girl and do as you're told?”

"No," you breathed softly.

Bucky chuckled at your persistence in playing this game, his eyes darkening with a mixture of annoyance and desire. He knew you were testing his limits, seeing how far you could push him before he snapped.

"What do you mean, no? If I want my dick in your mouth, it's going in your mouth whether you like it or not.”

You shuddered with anticipation. Of course, you wanted his dick in your mouth. Bucky smirked, noticing the shiver that ran through your body. He could see the desire in your eyes, the way your tongue darted out to moisten your lips, betraying your own need for him.

"I see that got your attention," he murmured. "You want me to use that pretty mouth of yours, don't you?”

You struggled slightly under his weight. Bucky laughed at your attempts to move under him, the sound deep and throaty. He knew he had you right where he wanted you, trapped beneath him. 

"Struggle all you want, but you're not going anywhere until you're dripping with my cum.”

Bucky chuckled at the pout on your lips, but he allowed you to prop yourself up on the lounger, his knees still trapping your hips on either side. The position he had you in was intimate, his cock was almost pressed against your face, his eyes locked on yours, his hands resting on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.

Bucky loved having you like this, so vulnerable beneath him but his body completely at your mercy.

Bucky's eyes darkened as he watched you lick your lips, the gesture driving him wild. He could see the need in your eyes.

"You want it, don't you?" he asked, his voice heavy with desire.

"Only because you want it so bad," you smirked, your eyes roving over his throbbing length. He had pulled it out of his swim trunks, the veins full and pulsating readily. "Look at you, can't wait, can you? Need my lips around your pretty cock?”

Bucky nearly lost his breath at your words, his body shuddering with need. You knew just how to play him, how to push all his buttons.

"Damn doll," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire, momentarily forgetting his character. "You talk like that, and you're gonna make me lose control. But yes, I need your lips. I need your mouth on me. I need you, doll.”

You softened a little, wanting to give in without a fight, to give him what he craved. But a tiny voice in your mind reminded you that this would be so much more fun.

A slow smirk formed on your lips. "Make me," you said with as much defiance as you could muster.

Bucky's eyes darkened with annoyance and desire at your disobedience once again. He loved the challenge. The way you tested him pushed him to the edge, but it was hard to hold back when you were so goddamn sexy.

"Oh doll, are you really gonna push me like that?" he gritted out, his voice strained as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Slowly, he reached out and made a fist in your hair and moved your face right up to his with his firm grip. "Head back, mouth open, tongue out... now.”

Slowly but petulantly, you complied, letting him slide his head onto your tongue. Sensually, you rolled it around the edge before kissing the tip. You loved seeing the way his muscles contracted with pleasure.

Bucky's head fell back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily, a moment of ecstacy coursing through him.

"That's it, that's my good girl. Now you remember what to do if it's too much?”

You nodded, tapping his thigh three times, making him praise you again. You took him into your mouth again, lips forming an O. Narrowing your eyes, you looked up at him with a hint of rebelliousness and daring.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your gaze, his breath hitching in his chest. He wasn't used to anyone giving him this level of sass, and it was driving him crazy. 

"I see you're still feeling mouthy. Looks like I'll have to find a way to keep that pretty little mouth of yours occupied.”

You decided to show him how mouthy you could be, letting him slip further into your mouth.

Bucky's head slumped back, his breath coming in short bursts as you teased him. Damn, you were so damn good at this, and it was driving him wild.

"That's it, doll. Just like that, that's my girl. You know just what I like.”

You tried to answer him, but you couldn't form any coherent words with the way he filled your mouth.

"What's that, doll?" he chuckled despite his ragged breath, a hint of pride in his voice. He loved making you speechless, especially with your mouth full of him.

"Can't talk now, can you? You look so pretty with your mouth all full.”

You moaned, sending vibrations straight up his aching cock. The way he tasted always turned you on and your pussy was begging for attention. You squeezed your legs together to offer yourself some relief from the throbbing between your thighs.

Bucky groaned, your moans resonating through him, shooting straight through his body. It was like a jolt of electricity to his nerves, and he had to grit his teeth to keep control. 

"Ah darlin’, you know how that mouth of yours is affecting me," he breathed out, his eyes darting down to your squirming form. "Damn doll, you look like you're aching for something.”

Finally, you sank down all the way, your nose brushing the short strands of hair on his skin for a moment before pulling off with a gasp, a long string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

Bucky could hardly think straight with the way you were working him over. It was a good thing he was sitting down because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand right now. 

"Damn doll," he breathed. "That mouth of yours is something else. But did I tell you you could stop?”

"It's my turn, Sarge.”

Bucky's eyes darkened, his breath hitching in his chest at the title. Something about you calling him by his rank made him a little weak.

"I don't think so, doll," he warned. "You know who's in charge here, and I haven't given you permission to take it your turn yet. You gotta earn it. You're gonna follow my orders.”

You whimpered softly, so turned on now that you couldn't think for yourself.

Bucky's eyes scanned over you, taking in your flushed and panting form. He could see the way you were responding to him, how your need was taking over and making it hard for you to think.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth. "Now open that pretty mouth and stick that tongue out so Sarge can fuck your face.”

You followed his orders without question, tilting your head back and sticking your tongue out as far as it would go. Seconds later Bucky was shoving his fat cock between your lips, thrusting his hips until the head of his dick was hitting the back of your throat. You did your best to suck around him, hollowing your cheeks while your tongue lapped up every drop of precum leaking from his tip. One of your hands braced on his hip while the other came up to play with his balls as he grunted softly with your ministrations.

Bucky was losing it a little more with each passing second. You were so damn gifted with that tongue of yours, and he wanted to come inside you.

“You’re gonna make Sarge come,” he moaned. So did you, right around his cock. “Bet you'd like that, huh?” His hips thrusted deeper into your throat and you felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “You wanna taste me?”

You gazed up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, and he responded with a dark, mocking laugh.

“Too fucking bad.” He grunted, pulling himself from your mouth as his eyes fluttered shut while you were left panting and speechless.

“Ruined that chance,” he continued. “Show me those gorgeous tits. You want me to make sure they're protected from the sun? I can cover them in cum and you won't have to worry about that any more. How does that sound?” 

Bucky's hands moved to rest on your shoulders, firmly pushing you down onto your back, his body hovering over you, trapping your wrists above your head in his hands. His cock resting between your breasts.

“Is that a nod, doll? You gonna let me come on your tits?

"No,” you answered, rather weakly.

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of a warning.

"Oh go on now, get me off, darlin'.”

You struggled slightly in a weak attempt to free yourself from his grip, to take what you wanted.

"Struggle all you want, doll. But you're not going anywhere 'til you're dripping with my cum," he muttered darkly from above you.

This man and his filthy mouth. The way it had you squirming, panting. You could feel the heat pooling between your thighs. The need for him to take you was overwhelming. Your body writhed beneath his, your aching pussy silently begging to be filled.

"Aww look at you all stuck," he laughed. "You're dripping wet, aren't you? You might as well tell the truth because I'm going to fucking check anyway.”

"Go on then.”

Bucky smirked, his eyes darkening with a familiar look. He loved this game, the push and pull, testing your limits and seeing how far he could go.

"You sure?" he asked, his tone taunting. "You want me to touch you, make you squirm even more than you already are?”

"Please..." the word slipped from your lips before you realized what you were saying.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your whimper. He could always tell when you were starting to let your guard down, when you were giving up the fight. It made him want you even more.

"Please? Look at that, you're begging now, doll. You need me, don't you?” He asked, gently thrusting between your breasts.

You whimpered softly. There was no denying it, you wanted to be touched, you wanted him to fill you up, you didn't want to wait. 

Bucky could see the look in your eyes, the desire that had taken over and left you a needy, begging mess. He loved seeing you like this, completely under his control, waiting for his touch.

"You're starting to be a good girl now, huh? I knew you would give in eventually. You just need a little push, don't you?”

"The only thing you should be pushing right now is little Sarge inside me.”

Bucky chuckled deeply. Damn, your filthy mouth was going to be the death of him.

"You're getting cheeky, doll. You won't be getting that anytime soon until you learn some manners.”

"You gonna teach me?" you smirked.

Bucky's laugh was dark and dangerous. "You're just asking for it, aren't you? But I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson, doll.”

You just gave him a long, silent look, slowly wetting your lips.

Bucky's eyes tracked the movement of your tongue, the way it glided over your full lips. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he was loving every second of it.

"You're playing with fire, doll. I don't think you realize just how much you're testing my control right now.”

"Show me.”

Bucky's breath hitched at your words. The challenge in your voice, the slight attitude behind your words. He loved it.

"You really want me to show you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You want me to lose control? You think you can handle that?”

"You think you've been in control all this time?”

Bucky actually laughed at that. You were trying so hard to regain a little bit of power, to knock him off balance and turn the tables. But he could see through it all.

"Don't act like you haven't been the one begging for it this whole time, doll," he smirked. "You've been desperate for my touch, my attention, my control. And you know it.”

"Then do it.”

"Oh, doll, you're so impatient," he taunted. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, just the way you need. You'll get your fill, but on my terms.”

He moved down to kneel between your legs.

Bucky knelt between your legs, his body towering over you as he settled in. He could see the way your breath hitched, the way his presence alone was affecting you.

"You good, doll?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, "You ready for this?”

You smiled at your boyfriend, something had suddenly shifted between you, teasing put aside, your closeness and intimacy taking over as he hovered against your entrance.

Bucky froze for a moment, his eyes softening as he saw the change in you. He knew that feeling all too well, that moment when playfulness gives way to something more tender and true. He met your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look so beautiful, doll," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I love you so goddamn much.”

"Love you too, Buck," you whispered.

Bucky's heart filled with warmth every time he heard you say those words. It was a moment of vulnerability, a reminder of the love and trust that existed between them.

He leaned down a little more, his body pressing against yours, the tip of his hard length resting against your entrance. He could see the love and longing in your eyes, and he wanted to make you feel good.

"Are you ready for me, doll?" he asked.

"Always ready for you, Sarge." You spread your legs, inviting him in. 

Bucky darkened eyes sparkling with affection. He loved that nickname, the way it sounded when it left your lips.

"There's my good girl," he praised, his fingers caressing your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance. "I'll take care of you, doll. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You panted softly as his thick cock filled you, the glorious stretch of your walls as he pushed into you making your eyes roll backwards. The first movement was slow, cautious, and almost gentle, giving you the chance to accept him. He kept going until he was fully seated inside you, his nose not even an inch away from yours. 

Bucky was in ecstasy, there was nothing quite like the feeling of your body wrapped around him. It was like coming home, a moment where he was yours completely, where he felt safe and accepted.

Bucky could feel your body twitching beneath him, begging for more. He knew he couldn't hold back any longer, the need was too strong.

The moment of stillness was just long enough to let the realization sink in that they were truly connected, body and soul. Bucky was fully lost in the moment, the heat and the sensations that were coursing through him. He needed more, needed to feel those highs, those peaks. He needed you.

"I need you, doll," he managed to gasp out, his voice gruff and raw, "Can I move?”

You nodded fervently.

Bucky could sense the pleading in your eyes, the unspoken plea for him to take you, make you his. His hands moved to your hips, holding you firm while he pulled out and then slammed back into you hard, a groan leaving his lips.

"Damn doll," he grunted. "You feel so good.”

"Ohhh, Buck." You moaned, no other words were left in your vocabulary as he pounded in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping together almost drowning out the waves crashing on the beach.

The sound of your voice, the way you said his name, it drove him wild. He knew he couldn't last much longer, not when you were looking so damn beautiful, lying under him, taking every inch of what he had to offer. 

"That's it, doll. M'close.”

You weren't too far off either, not with the way that his tip brushed your A-spot before he pulled out, dragging over your sensitive G-spot. You moaned salaciously as he pushed up your thighs, burying himself deep inside you with each thrust.

Bucky was barely holding it together anymore, the need to make you fall apart first was the only thing keeping him from letting go.

You reached down to touch your clit, to speed things along so you could keep up with Bucky. Bucky's hand shot out, stopping you quickly.

"No, doll," he said, his voice firm. "You don't touch yourself unless I give you permission. That's my job. Understand?”

You whined softly, in the midst of your pleasure, you'd forgotten to keep up your act.

Bucky saw the look of frustration on your face and knew you had slipped. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, even as he was on the edge himself. 

"That's right, doll," he teased. "You forgot who was in charge here, didn't you? But don't worry, I'll remind you.”

He thrust into you harder, pounding into you so hard that you weren't forming any coherent thoughts. The familiar feeling was building rapidly inside you. "Buck," you moaned, as if the sound of his name would communicate what you were feeling.

Bucky recognized that sound, the way you were begging him, calling his name. He knew you were close, right on the edge of falling apart. He didn't let up, keeping that hard and steady pace. 

"Yeah, doll," he grunted, "You're gonna come for me, aren't you?”

Your fingers tightened around the towel that was still hanging on the side of the lounger as you whimpered.

Bucky could see the way your body was tensing, the way your grip was holding onto the towel for dear life. He knew he was pushing you to the limit. He wanted to see you come undone. 

"That's it, doll. Let go for me, I want to feel you squeezing me, come on, be a good girl for me and come.”

"Oh fuck!" The words tumbled from your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Bucky felt your body convulse around him as you came, and it was all he needed to tip him over the edge. The way your walls squeezed around him, milking his throbbing cock, sending fireworks shooting through every nerve in his body.

"Buck-uhhhh," you panted as your body relaxed, coming down from your climax.

Bucky collapsed onto the lounger next to you. He was panting, his breath coming out in gasps. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Damn, doll," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That was something else.”

"Aww baby, did I make you all weak?" you smirked into his chest.

Bucky chuckled deeply, shaking his head slightly. "Don't get cocky, doll. I still got plenty of stamina left." He nipped playfully at your ear, his hand trailing down your side.

“I'm still waiting on that suncream, Sarge.” You gathered some of his cum that had trickled down your thigh onto your fingertip and held it up. “Not sure this is gonna cut it.”

Bucky growled, his eyes narrowing. Suddenly he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the end of the pool.

“Bucky!” you shrieked. “Don't you dare.”

“I think you need to cool off.” The grin on Bucky's face was positively smug.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and gave him a warning look as he threatened to throw you into the pool.

“Don't,” you said warningly.

Bucky chuckled, turning around and held you closer. You were about to sigh with relief but the glint in his eyes betrayed his intent. You gasped as he took a step backwards sending you both tumbling into the pool with a huge splash!

[lavandulawrites]

An Escape To Warmer Temperatures

Yandere Capitano x reader

Yandere Capitano is something else<3 Got this idea while doing the archon quest. (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Synopsis: Capitano wants to take you with him to Natlan in search of the pyro gnosis

Masterlist

Warnings: spoilers for 5.1, implied murder, implied violence (not towards the reader), obsessiveness, possessiveness, power imbalance

Word count: 1146

The Captain was a righteous man. It was a well known fact. He was tall, way above 190 cm and he was as muscular as a god. He had an aura that made one cower before him, even if you didn’t know about his identity as the 1st Harbinger. His love for you was passionate and over consuming. He sat you above all others and he had told you time after time that he would burn down Teyvat for you. It was no secret that Capitano had shed blood for you. Both his own and the blood of others. He never told you, but you had gotten the glance of blood speckles on his clothing after some had sent you a dirty look and you had overheard his lackeys disposing of what remained of a unfortunate man who had bumped into you.

Capitano was a strange man, but there was no doubt about his love for you.

At night he caged you in an gentle, but firm embrace. His strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you close. At first you had resisted, in fear of what he might do to you, but you caved in when you realised he didn’t mean you any harm.

Capitano was no stupid man, quite on the contrary. He knew about the dangers of the world and wanted nothing more than to shield you from said dangers.

The snow storm had lasted for days, almost a week. The wind hammered against the roof and the snow clouded the sky in an endless stream of white. The old hearth was lit and the flames beckoning you closer. You reached out your hands in an attempt to warm them. The flames were bright and looked like a living breathing being.

The polished floor creaked making his presence known. Your eyes remained focused on the fire rather than his imposing figure. His movements stilled and you knew he was waiting for you to say something.

“You are home” you could almost see your breath in the cold air despite the fire before you.

A low hum could be heard from behind you. A heavy fur trimmed coat was laid around your shoulders in an attempt to stop the shivering of your limbs that you hadn’t been aware of.

“We finished early” the black haired captain replied. His hand stayed on your shoulder. “Are there any special reasons as to why it is so terrible cold in here?”

“The heater broke and the firewood was wet” your eyes were still staring into the flames.

The hand on your shoulder moved its thumb in an comforting manner. “Why didn’t you ask the servants to help you?”

“I don’t mind the cold…” your voice low. The truth was that the temperature inside the grand mansion was one of the few things you could control in your life. It was rather childish, but you couldn’t care less.

“I see…” he sighed. The thumb came to a halt. “There is something I have been wanting to discuss with you.”

The Captain often gave you the illusion that you had something to say in the matter of discussion, but it was only that, an illusion. What he said was final. That much you knew.

“Oh. Go on” your voice was devoid of any emotion as your mind raced through all the possibilities of what he wanted to discuss with you.

“I’m going to Natlan in the search of the gnosis” his hand left your shoulder. “And I want you to come with” his words were filled with authority.

You swallowed as your eyes widened. Natlan…. You had never set foot outside of your homeland. And now he wanted you to come with him to Natlan? You almost wanted to laugh. This was really the last thing you had expected to hear from the rigid man.

You turned around to face him. His beloved helmet was nowhere to be seen. What met you were his dark midnight blue eyes that reminded you of the deep Snezhnayan waters that you could see from your bedroom window. His eyes were deep and you felt like you could drown in the endless blues. His star-like pupils stared right back at you with a whirlwind of emotions you could only hope to place.

A scar ran down one of his eyes and you wondered how he had managed to escape with his eye intact. Multiple other scars littered his skin, but the most noticeable save form the one over his eye, were the one straight over his nose. It had faded to a white colour, but you could imagine it must have looked quite bad when he first got it.

Due to his Khaenri'an blood, his skin was filled with blue veins accompanied with black lines that ran through the entirety of his body. His mouth looked rather normal, but when he smiled or sneered it stretched a little too far for a normal human being. Behind his pale lips were sharp teeth that belonged more in the jaws of a hound, rather than a man. His tongue was long, but he rarely made it known.

Despite the curse he suffered from, he was an undeniable handsome man. His beauty was something that greatly unnerved you as he seemed almost like a beast that made itself appear human in order to come closer to its prey. He was unsettling with his imposing height and muscles, yet you found it hard to tear your eyes from his own.

“Do I have a choice?” your voice were meek despite your effort at sounding indifferent.

He huffed and the corner of his lips turned slightly downward as his dark eyebrows furrowed. “No” Capitano’s voice was soft as if he tried to calm you down. It came as no surprise that he had long sensed your inner turmoil.

His large hands cupped your face gently. His thumbs stroking your cheekbones. He stared at you for a while before he pulled you into an embrace. His strong arms caging you in as your face was pressed against his muscular chest. His hand stroked your back and you found yourself getting calmer.

“I think a change of scenery will do you good” the bit that he was incapable of departing from you for a long period of time was left unsaid, yet the words hung heavy in the air. Suddenly the living room felt as hot as the steps of Natlan.

His hand traveled up to your head were it intertwined with your soft locks. His head came down slightly as he inhaled your scent in a rather desperate motion that seemed unfit for the 1st Harbinger.

“Jeg elsker deg [Name]” the words that left his lips were in the national language of his homeland. Though you didn’t know the language, you understood all too well what those words meant.

Translation

Norwegian → English

Jeg elsker deg = I love you

[thewritetofreespeech]

aemond - prompt 1

Prompt list - 1. Breeding kink

------------------------------⚔️---------------------------------

“Up! Up!”

“Up! Up!”

“Hehe…you’re both too big now for me to carry the both of you on my hip like before. Why don’t we flip a coin then? Heads Jaehaerys you can go first, and tails means Jaehaera can go. Sound like a fun game?”

Aemond watched from the table with his family as his wife made a deal with his niece & nephew. Completely fair. Void of favoritism. He remembers no such favors from his own childhood.

His wife was wonderful with the children. As one of the few Helaena let near them in recent months, due to some new fear she had concocted in her mind, Jaehaera & Jaehaerys clung to her like shadows. Even Maelor, still at his mother’s breast, would swing his fat little arms in his wife’s direction every time she passed. And she never missed an opportunity to give him attention or affection whenever he, or any of the children, clamored for her.

“Everything alright Aemond?”

His trance was broken by her words when she returned to him. Whatever deal or game they had struck over now as a nurse came to put the children to bed. Aemond nodded. Dreams of his own silver-haired babes following her around, tugging at her skirts, in need of constant attention from that sweet face drift out of his mind like dragon’s wings on the horizon. “Yes. I am fine. Let us retire for the evening as well.”

The sun would be up soon. He couldn’t see it from the window, but just felt it in his soul. That time of night that was more the wee hours of the morning. Where the darkness would finally break to the light.

They haven’t slept at all. Rested, but not slept. Sleep seemed immaterial in comparison to the need to fill her again & again. Sleep, water, food, air. All of it seemed trivial as he was a man possessed with possessing her.

“Aemond….please….no more….”

“Just once more.”

His wife whined as his cock still inside her slid back and into her again. One bout giving way to another with truly no rest in between this time.

He was consumed with making his dream a reality. Fill her with so much of him that his child would have no choice but to take root in her belly. They could have a babe come spring. Or a sweet summer child with his pale violet eyes and his mother’s gentle disposition. Aemond thrust harder into her, as if driving the idea home with his cock, making his wife cry out. “Ah! Aemond! Oh Gods!”

She wouldn’t have to take care of Aegon’s children anymore. She would have her own babes to keep her busy. They would be strong and perfect. In constant need of their mother like he was. Maybe she would give him twins like Helaena gave his brother? If his fragile sister could do it, surely his wife could do it too. Judging by the cum spilling out of her onto the already soiled sheets, Aemond had given her more than enough opportunity.

“Aemond….Aemond….”

She couldn’t say much more than his name now and moan. Good. There shouldn’t be any thought of others or anything but the two of them as they made their child.

He looked down at the woman who was going to give him his future and found a blank slate there. Broken with pleasure. Those intelligent, bright eyes black and hazy with lust. Disheveled to the point of madness by his own mad need to put a babe inside her.

He leaned down to kiss her rough, swollen lips and swallowed a whine from his princess. He felt her breath quicken against his lips and her walls quake around him. Her overstimulated body climaxing with even the most minor addition of stimuli between them at this point.

Aemond came just short after that. One final push. Spilling his seed just as deep as the rest before he finally, eventually, let his wife go.

He fell to the other side of the bed, listening to her gasp for breath beside him, before he got up and went to retrieve a rag for the two of them. His wife hiccupped out a gasp when the cool material touched her feverous skin. Her whole-body twitching as it was still too overstimulated to determine how the touch was intended. Aemond cleaned her body starting with her arms. Moving down to her breasts, imagining them larger and fuller in just 4 moons time, then down to her belly that would do just the same. She whined when he gently wiped at her overly sensitive cunt. Red and swollen. His seed still glistening in the folds. He doesn’t want to get rid of it but knows she would be uncomfortable sleeping like that. Aemond had already made her uncomfortable enough for one evening.

He cleaned himself off with much less care and crawled back into bed beside his wife. She willingly came to him when he pulled her in his arms. Or perhaps she was too exhausted to think and just went along with him. Her body still twitching now & then, even in her sleep, from the frenzy he just put her through.

He kissed her head, then covered them with whatever clean blanket he could find.

Come spring they would have a child of their own. A silver haired paragon, who would take Vhagar after he was gone and be his legacy for when his bones became ash. After that, they would work on another. Then another. Then another. His branch would flourish as much as his great-grandfather, and they would build their family to the point that they did not need any others but their own.

He almost felt bad for Jaehaera & Jaehaerys. Soon they would not have their wonderful aunt to dote on them. But his children, and his family, would be what came first.

[ashnnix]

Various JJK Men x Male Husband reader

Tw: triplepen,overstimulatiom,Dubcon, Dacryphilia,marking,mentions of blood,ass ripper,vibrator,not safe sex, spanking, buldge, cum inflation, degradation, polysex, taking a video without consent

Summary: after fucking your husband and three men another three men barge in to fuck you in one go♡︎

PT.1 PT3

Minors dni

Fem align dni

"Im...shoo full ahhh~♡︎" Gojo pulled out his soft dick, he watched bunch of cums flows out on your sore ass. You lay limp on the couch, twicthing, shaking sweaty eyes rolled back. Your ass is red from how harsh these four men fucked you

Gojo stood up to take a rest. He chug on a bunch of water to ready himself for another round, but the three men they're waiting finally arrive

You heard the door open again, a man laughed at the scene

"Fuck I'm hard already"

"Smells like sex here"

"bought the vibrator, good..."

Your head turned to the voice, and your mouth went dry. Your eyes let out more tears

The three men whos already taking off their clothes. They're the men who you rejected after giving their everything to you. You saw how Sukuna glared down at your lewd form, grinning down like he planned all of this. Naoya whos now stroking his dick with lube, biting his lip from the sensation his dick twitched from the thought of wanting to fuck you deep. Toji, who's walking closer to you, he looked at your body like you are one of his target

"N-no more....ahh"

Toji laughed down at how pathetic you look. Your eyes eyeing his thick dick hard and ready

"You say that, but you're drooling over my dick." You bit your tongue. Your mind is fighting with your body. Fighting the urge to just be a whore infront of them all

"Now now....be gentle with my husband" All the men inside the room scoffed at Gojo, even Getou didn't fuck with it

"Satoru you promised" Getou glared at Gojo whos taking a break from the good fuck he just had

"Just kidding Suguru, you know I always keep my words" Gojo looked down at the ring in his fingers, he saw your ring on the floor that slipped after he fucked you

You felt betrayed on what you just heard, with a sigh you gave up. You tried to push your weak body, you leaned on the couch and spread your legs wide. The men smirked on how successfully they had you in their arms again

"Fine, p-please...haa....fuck me deep♡︎" you said lewdly while your dick twitched already leaking precum. Toji got a hold of you first, holding both of your legs while your back touched his big pecs

Naoya grabbed the vibrator as he licked his lips. He tapped the vibrator on your hard red slippery dick and turned in on a high setting. The rough vibrating toy in your dick made your body shake as you squirted another cum

"Ohhh Noya! Se-sensitive! ahhh~♡︎" you squealed so loud Sukuna put his finger on your mouth

"Shut the fuck up whore, I wont forgive you for rejecting me you bitch. Better take this dick well" Toji glared at Sukuna, he scoffed and rolled his eyes

"We three can all take him," Naoya said, Toji and Sukuna felt their dick twitch at the thought

Your eyes widen in fear your mouth went dry again, two dicks almost ripped your hole. If you took three your gonna rip

The three men lined up their dick rubbing their tip on your wet twicthing rim

"No! Its not gonna fi- ohmp!" Sukuna put in his fingers back to your mouth again

They all took a deep breath before the three men simultaneously went inside you, rough and hard. You throw your head back, hitting Tojis big pecs, Sukuna's fingers slipping away inside your mouth

"OHH! IM GONNA RIP~"You felt it, the pain in your ass. You let out a lot of tears sobbing and laying limp on Tojis chest. Blood dripping from the floor, the pain of being forced to take three dicks is too much for you. And the vibrator is still making your sensitive dick let out cum

"Hurts....ahhh hurts..."

The four men watching didn't feel bad, except for Gojo whos holding back. This is the consequences of your actions, never reject obsessed men again or they gonna fuck you rough to get it in your head

"Fuck youre haa... tight honey" You heard Toji groan his big strong body still holding you

"Mu- fuck! tighter than the other whores I fucked" Noaya grinned as he gave your thighs a kiss

"You're ahhh gonna take this dick every day from now on" Sukuna grinned, biting your shaking thighs

The three men started pounding rough inside you, using blood as a lube never turned you on. But your body keeps begging for more

Fwop Fwop Fwop

"Ohhh~ ahh! Ngh! S-shoo ahh! rough~♡︎" You helplessly whined just staying on Tojis arm taking it like a good boy♡︎!!

Fwop Fwop Fwop

"Haa... fu-fuck! yo- ahh! feel so good~" Naoya whined his dick twitching at your tight hole and two men's dick rubbing his dick inside your tight twitching hole. He grab the camera near him and started filming this hot sex he wouldn't forget

Fwop Fwop Fwop

"Shit! You're fucked Y/N!" Sukuna laughed the pleasure he felt from your body made him already leak pre cum

Fwop Fwop Fwop

"You feel good? Huh? Does my thick dick feel good~" Toji whispered near your ears, making you shiver

"Ohh good! Feels good!" You moaned like a desperate whore, your eyes finally saw the camera. Naoya bit his lip as he zoomed it into your face

"Smile from ngh~ camera Y/N...." You gave your lewd smile drool coming out. As snot came out your nose from crying too much

"Say you fucking love our dicks!" Sukuna screamed as he gave your ass a spanking

You squealed from the pain, your eyes made contact from the camera and did a peace sign

"I love all of your dicks...♡︎"

The three men fucking you felt their dick twitched again, they began to fuck you much faster than before. Their balls hitting your ass making it red from the impact

"Ngh!! Roug- ahh~ mmf!"

With their final thrust, Toji came inside you first while Naoya and Sukuna pulled out to spray their cum all over your body

"Cu-cumming! Oh im cumming hard! N-no more~!!" Your dick squirted another load also staining your chest

The camera Noaya's holding zoomed all over every parts with their stained cum all over your body. You looked absolutely wrecked. Your ass with blood now also filled with Tojis load

"Fuck that was hot"

The four men whos taking a break felt their dick harden again, they walked near you whos now catching breath

"Want another round? Getou said as he patted your head

You passed out before you can even reply

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

After last episode I’m thinking what if Aegon tells his wife what happened when he wakes up and she goes ballistic on Aemond because the man she loves was hurt in battle, by his own brother nevertheless. (Maybe she sees the dagger that normally sits in its sheath on Aegons hip)

Request: Aegon returning to King’s Landing after Rook’s Rest. His wife worries about him and stay by his side

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You became sick with worries when you saw Aemond and Vhagar return to King’s Landing, alone.  

He walked into the Red Keep and called for a small council meeting to report about Rook’s Rest. You sat in the seat beside the King’s empty one, listening as Aemond recounted that the plan he and Ser Criston had come up with got crashed by the Blacks, who sent Rhaenys to Lord Staunton's aid. 

‘’What of His Grace?’’ you asked, having seen Aegon depart from the dragonpit hours ago. 

Aemond lowered his gaze, making the knot in your stomach tighten. No war was bloodier than one with dragons. Meleys was a large dragon, and she had battle experience. Mayhaps something happened to Sunfyre? You knew Aegon would refuse to leave his side if anything happened to him. 

‘’There was an incident involving the King,’’ he began. 

You held your breath as Aemond continued. 

‘’While I was waiting for Cole's signal, His Grace engaged in a one-on-one with Meleys, but the latter brutally attacked Sunfyre, causing him — and Aegon — to freefall in a nearby forest with great force before I could take the sky and come to their aid.’’ 

Everyone fell completely silent. 

You felt your vision blur as the room began to spin. Your face paled, and a cup of water was brought to you. You took a small sip, but you were still feeling unwell. 

You should not have let him join the battle. He had no military training, it was reckless. 

‘’Where is Aegon now?’’ the dowager Queen asked her younger son, her voice filled with maternal concern. 

‘’At Rook's Rest,’’ Aemond replied. ‘’Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne are marching back to King’s Landing with what little remains of the Green army. They are bringing his critically injured body.’’

⁂

Three days later, Ser Criston’s army arrived at King’s Landing. You had not slept since being informed about Aegon’s fall, your mind filled with worried thoughts and dark fears. Your handmaiden had suggested you take a draught for sleep, but you declined. You couldn’t risk being in a deep sleep when Aegon would come in through the gates. 

While they were parading Meleys's slain head through the city, six knights walked through the Keep, holding their King in a closed litter that hid him completely. He was brought to his chambers where several maester began working on him. 

‘’Is he alive?’’ you asked, trying to get information on your husband's state. 

The maesters couldn't answer, feeling a pulse so faint they didn't want to give you false hopes. You were escorted out as they worked on removing the armor which had melted onto Aegon's left arm. The image was not one a Queen should see, they said. 

You found yourself at Alicent's doors, needing someone to share your fears and worries with. She invited you to sit on her couch and had camomile tea brought to you to calm your nerves. You had not been this anxious since the birth of your first child. 

Noticing your shaking hands, the dowager Queen took the one who was not holding the teacup in hers. ‘’He’s strong, like his father,’’ she said softly. ‘’He’ll recover.’’ 

⁂

Late into the night, you were allowed back in the King’s chambers. Aegon had not yet woken, laying in the bed with his eyes closed. Half of his body was wrapped in bandages, covering the burns. 

All he wanted was to prove the realm that he wasn't useless. And now, he laid in bed, badly burned with a broken hip, and numerous broken ribs.

You sat all night by Aegon's bedside, refusing to leave him.

‘’You should get some rest, Your Grace,’’ the Grand Maester suggested when he came in to check on Aegon in the morning, noticing you were still in yesterday’s dress. 

He was probably right. Your eyes felt dry from lack of sleep and the shadows under them were dark. 

‘’I will rest when he wakes,’’ you replied. 

⁂

A tear fell down your face when Aegon woke days later, mumbling your name with his dry throat. He was in severe pain from his injuries, so the Grand Maester administered him a strong concoction of milk of the poppy to sooth his pain. It made his mind cloudy, and very sleepy. 

That night, you allowed yourself to sleep in a bed. 

⁂

For the duration of his recovery, you were moved to Aegon's old chambers. 

They had not been occupied since the coronation. When you walked in, you noticed everything was the way it always was, the way Aegon liked. 

It felt strange to be there without him. 

As you sat on the bed in your nightgown, you were reminded of life before he was crowned. Times were simpler back then. The realm was at peace and Aegon didn't have to put himself in danger to prove he was worthy of the crown. 

You missed that time. 

⁂

While Aegon was bedstruck, you took seat on the Iron Throne to rule in his absence. He trusted you with his life, and would want no one else than you to wear his crown. His mother and grandsire ruled in his father's absence through his long illness and manipulated everything and everyone around them. Aegon didn't want that happening to him. 

Although you didn’t know how to rule a war, you listened to the men sitting at the small council table, seeking their opinions and counsel. Now you understood why Aegon said they all bore him. Sitting there and listening to Lord Larys’s report of whispers, Lord Tyland’s financial complaints, and other reports that came by ravens made you want to indulge in wine. 

‘’What is the next move, Your Grace? Our men have recovered from the battle at Rook’s Rest and are ready for the next move. More men have been trained and knighted, and are waiting for the next commands.’’ 

You glanced at the map to your left, studying the pins of the houses who had bent the knee to Aegon and the ones who had not, trying to come up with a strategy, but before you could answer, Aemond spoke. 

‘’The Riverlands. Me and Cole will be heading north-west and amassing an army to march against Daemon Targaryen and Harrenhal.’’

You directed your eyes back to the table, looking straight forward at Aemond. ‘’Since when are you in charge of leading our armies, Prince Aemond? The last time you and Ser Criston plotted without my husband’s authority, it ended in a carnage of our army and put our King in a critical condition. I reject your strategy and forbid you from plotting without my authority by risk of being removed from this council.’’

After the small council meeting was over, you returned to Aegon’s side and were surprised to find him awake. He had been given him a gentle sponge bath by the maids while you were absent, his silver hair damp on his pillow. You also noticed that the maester had changed his bandages. 

‘’Where is Sunfyre?’’ Aegon asked when you sat, speaking coherently for the first time in weeks. 

‘’Near Rook’s Rest,’’ you replied. ‘’He was so badly maimed that he's not even able to be moved back to King's Landing. Ser Criston stationed men near to guard him while he is recovering. You need not to worry, my love.’’ 

You took his hand that was not strapped and resting against his chest in yours, trying to ease his worries. He hated being apart from Sunfyre, especially knowing his dragon was injured and in pain. Aegon vividly remembered his cries of pain when they were attacked by Meleys’ claws and teeth. He wished he could go to him. 

‘’My memory is blurry, but he saved me. When we crashed down backward, Sunfyre was going to kill me with his weight, but he angled his body to avoid crushing me.’’ 

Aegon tried to shift into a more sitting position, but groaned as pain shot through his whole body. His burns were healing nicely under the bandages, but his broken hip and ribs were going to take a lot longer. 

You reached on the night table and poured him a small cup of milk of the poppy. ‘’Here.’’ 

It would make him sleepy, but at least it’ll relieve his pain. 

Until the effects kicked in, you informed him of what happened while he was unconscious. 

‘’The crown must look great on you,’’ Aegon said, the corner of his mouth curling in a small smile. 

Any form of facial expression caused his tender, burned skin to sting, so he refrained from them most of the time. 

You huffed, remembering the words of the men at the council when you sat in the King’s seat. ‘’Your council is not happy with me ruling in your stead. They claim that a war should not be led by a woman and that it makes the war look ridiculous as it began with not wanting a woman on the throne. 

‘’Whoever dares question your seat and ability to rule should be removed from my council.’’ Aegon's face was dead serious. No ill tongues will be tolerated speaking about his wife. Not in his court, and certainly not from his council.

Unfortunately, you could not do that. What would the small council become without a Master of Coins or a Master of Law?

You continued with other news. ‘’The beast who is responsible for your fall got taken down by Aemond. His rider, Rhaenys Targaryen, perished with her. Now, the Blacks are down from another dragon. It’s a victory for us, but our army suffered severe losses due to dragonfire.’’ 

At the mention of dragonfire, flashes of the battle blurred Aegon’s mind. ‘’What has my brother told the council?’’ 

You recounted what Aemond said, and Aegon’s frown deepened as his memories became clearer. 

His grip on your hand tightened. ‘’It is not what happened at Rook’s Rest. You must listen to me. It is not Rhaenys who aimed at me with dragonfire, it was Aemond.’’

⁂

Aegon’s words echoed in your head as you bathed that night. Had he confessed about his brother’s betrayal to someone else, they would say he was delirious and confused from the milk of the poppy, but you knew he was not. He was perfectly conscious, his memories from Rook’s Rest slowly coming back to him. 

From what you knew, Aemond never showed signs of bad intentions toward his brother. As Aegon often said, Aemond was his blood and fiercely loyal. He trusted him. So why would Aemond turn on him during a battle and unleash dragonfire at Aegon? There must be a motive for him to intentionally harm his kin, his brother. 

It was difficult to discern any emotions from Aemond. He was always composed and cold. Mayhaps his facade hid jealousy for his older brother? It was frequent among second sons. Although, Aegon never was the favorite son. It was always Aemond. 

Until teh Conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Mayhaps he had a secret thirst for the throne? It would explain his military ambitions and his desire for a place at the council table. The best way to kill a King is to get close enough to stab him when he least expects it.

You sighed and leaned back in the tub, closing your eyes as your body was covered by the warm water. The memory of Aegon's pained expression as he recounted his brother's betrayal — a treason to the crown — haunted you. 

‘’He is my blood,’’ Aegon had whispered, his voice trembling. ‘’Why would he do this?’’

⁂

In the early morning, you requested a private audience with Aemond. 

‘’I wish to know what really happened at Rook’s Rest,’’ you said firmly. ‘’As your Queen.’’ 

Aemond stood in front of you, clad in his usual leathers and an emotionless face. ‘’I gave my full report to the small council when I returned from King’s Landing. Nothing else is to be said.’’ 

You pressed on, your voice unwavering. ‘’It was told to the smallfolk Aegon had slain Meleys, which is false as you have told us it was Vhagar who killed her. This discrepancy makes me question if there are more lies woven into your truth. You reported that Meleys had brutally attacked Sunfyre with her claws and teeth but you never mentioned dragonfire. Yet burns cover half of His Grace’s body.’’

If Aemond felt any hint of nervousness at your probing, he did not show it.

‘’Are you questioning my truth, Your Grace?’’ he asked, his tone cold.

You knew that saying ‘yes’ would turn your question into an accusation of treason. By suggesting that he had harmed the King, Aemond could easily twist the accusation back on you. And what proof did you have? Your husband, who lay crippled in bed, dulled by milk of the poppy for most of the day? His moments of lucidity would not be believed by anyone.

Perhaps you could ask Ser Criston or Ser Gwayne what they had witnessed. Or bring the matter to the dowager Queen; she might decipher her son's body language better than you could.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something familiar caught your eye.

‘’This is Aegon’s dagger,’’ you pointed, recognizing the handle sitting on Aemond’s hip.

‘’Indeed. He lost it during the battle at Rook’s Rest. I retrieved it from the forest,’’ Aemond replied.

‘’And why is it sitting on your hip, Prince Aemond? The Conqueror’s dagger has been given to him during the coronation, along with his crown. It should be in His Grace’s chambers, where it belongs.’’

Aemond's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. ‘’I kept it safe, as any loyal brother would. Would you rather it had been lost forever?’’

You met his gaze, unflinching. ‘’Give it back to me.’’ 

Aemond stiffened at your words, his jaw clenching. He placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger, a defensive gesture that he couldn’t help but do. ‘’And if I refuse?’’ 

Your heart beat faster at Aemond's defiance, but you refused to back down. Taking a step forward, you locked eyes with him, your gaze steely ‘’Do not defy your queen. This is not a request, it's a command. The dagger belongs to Aegon. Give it to me, now!’’

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his fingers still gripping tightly to the dagger’s hilt. But your stern demeanor and unwavering command made it clear that there was no alternative. 

With reluctance, he pulled the dagger from his hip and held it out to you, handle first. 

You took the dagger from Aemond, your fingers grazing against his as you did so. ‘’I suggest you kiss goodbye to that dream of yours, my Prince. I know what you are. And when Aegon is strong enough to speak his truth, you will pay for what you did.’’

—

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[theophagie-remade]

Children will have near-death experiences and then go on about their day without even worrying about it

[girlgenius1111]

Alexia, bedroom, “do you not love me anymore”

i’m picturing like r is on her period and hormonal and irrational or something similar, not like legit angst where she actually thinks that

pain relief

alexia putellas x reader

You were curled up into a tiny ball on the couch when Alexia walked through the door, as if making yourself small enough would rid your abdomen and back of the pulsing pain currently afflicting it. Fading blonde hair hanging slightly damp around her shoulders, your girlfriend frowned sympathetically, dropping her bag by the door and kicking her shoes off. 

Any other day, you would have scolded her for the haphazard way she left her stuff, but today you didn’t have it in you. Instead, you just gazed at your girlfriend, the deep frown on your own face and the position of your body enough to tell Alexia just how badly you were feeling. 

“Hi there.” She greeted, walking over to you and sitting on the very edge of the couch. Her hand cupped your cheek, her lips pressing against yours in a chaste kiss. “Not feeling any better?” 

“No.” You replied, voice wavering as the comforting sight of your girlfriend in front of you only increased the pity you felt for yourself. 

“I’m sorry, amor.” Alexia whispered, smiling softly as you leaned into her touch. Still, her eyes flitted about the surrounding area, taking in the lack of water, the lack of any plate or bowl, the lack of your heating pad or any pain medications. You were always stubborn about allowing Alexia to care for you, pushing her out the door to training that morning insisting that you could get everything you needed yourself. 

The blonde didn’t enjoy training half as much without you there, and she’d been suitably distracted by the thought of you home all by yourself, in pain. It seemed her fears hadn’t been unfounded. 

“Have you eaten?”

You shook your head.

“Taken any medicine?” 

Another head shake. 

“Water? Heating pad? Anything?” Again, you shook your head, and Alexia’s frown deepened. “Amor–”

“I was going to eat and take something but then I laid down and I didn’t want to get up.” You explained, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as your lip quivered. “Sorry.” 

Your girlfriend sighed. “Don’t be sorry, bebita. I just wish you’d let me do more for you when you aren’t well.” 

“I can handle it.” You said the statement automatically, though you were painfully aware it made no sense; you were still curled up into a ball on your side, unwilling to move even as you craved the comfort of Alexia’s arms wrapping around you, knowing full well movement from this position would hurt. 

Alexia fixed you with a look, one that told you she wasn’t in the mood for you to be stoic and try to push through the pain. “You haven’t moved from the couch since I left. You cannot handle it.” 

Still, you were nothing if not stubborn, forcing your body out to uncurl and sit up, a pained wince flickering across your face. Alexia rolled her eyes, but helped you sit up anyway, her arm around your shoulders pulling you into her. 

“You’re being absurd. You don’t need to take care of everything yourself, not when I’m around.” Alexia told you. She craned her neck to kiss your forehead, her hand rubbing large circles into your back. You melted against her, practically, tucking your face into her sweatshirt. Almost as soon as you’d gotten comfortable, though, another spike of pain shot through your abdomen. You groaned, falling backwards onto the couch and rolling back up into your ball. 

“Oh, amor.” Alexia sighed. “What can I do?” 

“Heating pad.” You replied, voice muffled by the couch cushion your face was pressing into. 

Alexia got to her feet right away, hurrying off to get a heating pad. She returned quickly, gently nudging you until you stretched back out and allowed her to push your shirt up, placing the heating pad across your stomach. She turned the heating pad on, resting her hands over it to carefully press it into your skin. Alexia worried her lip between her teeth, gazing down at you with worry clouding her face. 

“Has it been like this all day?” She wondered. 

You shrugged noncommittaly in response and your girlfriend sighed again. You knew what she was going to say before she said it, but that didn’t help the disappointment you felt in yourself when she spoke. “Amor, they are getting worse.” Alexia murmured, running her thumb back and forth over your cheekbone. 

“I know.” You whispered. 

Alexia didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why you refused to make the phone call to see your doctor, and address the horrific periods you’d been having. There was some kind of mental block for you, and it was simply a task you couldn’t get done. Instead, you pushed it off and pushed it off until another period rolled around and you were practically bedridden for the first day. You knew Alexia was only frustrated because she hated to see you in pain, but a part of you wondered if, really, she was just tired of dealing with how moody and uncomfortable you got around this time of the month. 

Of course, this wasn’t the case at all. 

“I am so sorry you are in so much pain.” Alexia said slowly, as if able to physically see the doubts creeping into your head. “I wish I could take it away.” 

The thing was, Alexia knew that you knew what needed to be done to get yourself on track to feeling better. Nagging you about it wouldn’t do anything but make you feel worse. 

“I’ll call tomorrow.” You told her. It was something you’d said before, but the look on your face had Alexia oddly convinced that you really would call tomorrow. 

Your girlfriend’s eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled down at you, happy to see the evident pain fading from your face as the heating pad made the muscles in your stomach relax somewhat. Mentally, she checked one item off the list of things she could do to make you feel better, absolutely dead set on making your pain go away.

—

Alexia was quite successful in relieving your pain for the most part, magically caring individual that she was. It was later that evening, after Alexia had made your favorite for dinner and put her favorite show on the TV because ‘relationships were about compromise, mi amor,’  that you came to the conclusion of the one thing that would truly improve your still somewhat foul mood.  

“What is it?” Alexia asked, pausing the show after you shifted in her arms and sighed for the 5th time in the last 2 minutes. 

“Nothing.” You replied, feeling as though you’d already imposed too much upon your girlfriend so far that day. Alexia tugged the hood down from where it was pulled up over your head, tilted your face towards hers, and raised a single eyebrow in your direction. 

“I really want ice cream.” You admitted, blushing at the grin that pulled at your girlfriend’s lips. “But you made dinner, and and we’re comfortable and–” 

“I’ll get ice cream, amor, of course.” Alexia promised. “I can order it and then I don’t have to leave you.” 

Your heart melted a bit at that and you sunk even further into her embrace. Alexia opened the delivery app, clicking on your favorite ice cream shop and adding your order, which she somehow knew by heart, to the cart. You smiled into her sweatshirt… until she clicked check out. Without adding anything for herself. 

Craning your neck to look up at her, you frowned. “You… you don’t want any?” 

“No, I’m okay.” Alexia said absentmindedly, her hand gently trying to push your head to lay back on her chest. Instead, you sat up. “Amor?” 

Alexia looked up at you finally, her face falling as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey, no crying. What’s wrong? Tell me, I’ll make it better.” Alexia cooed, taking your face in between her hands and peppering kisses across your cheeks. 

“You- you don’t want any ice cream.” You sniffled pathetically. “Do you not love me anymore?” 

Alexia would have laughed if you didn’t look so completely serious. “Bebita, I love you with my whole entire heart, I just do not feel like ice cream tonight.” 

You scoffed in response, crossing your arms over your chest and stubbornly looking away from your girlfriend. Alexia’s lip twitched, but she maintained a serious expression, using a single finger to tilt your face back towards her. 

“Are you… are you crying because I won’t eat ice cream with you?” She wondered softly, her voice amazingly free of any judgment or amusement. 

As if only realizing now how absurd you were being, your face flushed and you wiped furiously at your eyes. “God, I am. What’s wrong with me?!” 

“That is a long list, amor, how much time do you have?” 

You glared at her, but she gave you a dopey smile in response, leaning forward with her lips puckered for a kiss. You obliged, sinking back into her arms and snuggling your face into her neck. 

“You don’t have to get any ice cream.” You sighed. 

Alexia hummed, thinking for a moment. “Well, if you are going to cry about it, I may as well.” 

You poked her stomach, feeling her chest vibrate under your head as she chuckled. She must have finished the order, because she dropped her phone onto the coffee table and wrapped her arms snuggly back around you. Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, playing the show again and considering how she could pretend to eat her ice cream but really sneak it into the freezer, because ice cream had been making her stomach hurt recently. With how clingy you were being, Alexia wasn’t sure she’d be successful, but she’d live. What was a stomach ache, compared to the happy smile on your face she knew she’d get to see soon. 

—

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Fourteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Discussion of child loss/miscarriage and domestic violence. Oral sex - fem receiving, face sitting, Johnny is a menace as usual, Simon talks you through it, dirty talk, brief daddy kink, pet names. Nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies, feelings of fear and anxiety, PTSD. Dialogue heavy. Bunny making progress. What's in a name?

When you were a child, you got caught in a storm.

Getting caught in a storm as an adult is a normal thing. It’s not frightening and foreign like it is when you’re young. When you’re a child, storms feel like hurricanes. They feel life altering, life ending. With no concept of larger, or smaller storms, it’s hard to understand how you’d make it through the to the other side.

You remember this one vividly. Your mother was on her way to work, her night job, and you were clicked into the backseat, barely awake, staring out the rain pelted window. The wind was so strong it shook the car, blew it all over the road, your mom’s fingers like rebar gripping the wheel. It was terrifying. It was like you’d never be safe, like the wind would pick your entire world up and send it crashing down into a farm field that stretched a million miles long.

It felt, somewhat, like this moment, and hundreds of moments before it. Small thorns in a life that no longer felt like your own. A far cry from the dreams you had when you were that little girl.

The thorns, the storms, had twisted you into this version of yourself, this stranger, and that’s how you feel as you stand in front of Simon, cold panic crackling through your bones.  

Your mouth opens and closes without sound coming out. You’re a fish out of water, lips parting just to swallow dry air, eyes wider than saucers.

Penny cries in your arms, but Simon doesn’t move. Johnny doesn’t breathe, and you stand alone in the silence, baby vomit on your clothes, trembling in fear.

They won’t understand. They’ll know you’re a liar. They won’t trust you. 

They won’t want you.  

“It’s not… I arranged it months ago.” You blurt, words strung together in a stream of consciousness. “It’s not like, you can just go out and buy a new passport. It takes a while, and connections, and lots of hoops and money and I-“ Simon holds his hand up.

A signal to stop.

“Give me the baby.” He says, stepping forward, arms out, and your hands shake as you pass her over, avoiding eye contact until he tips your chin back. “Take a deep breath, go upstairs, get cleaned up. When you come back down, we’ll talk. Okay?” He looks to Johnny, who nods, and then back to you, expectantly waiting on your answer.

“O-okay.”

Simon still has the passport.

It’s in front of his knee, on the coffee table, but within arm’s reach, close enough he could snatch it up in moment’s notice.

“Were ye goin’ to leave us?” Johnny whispers, and you shake your head.

“No, I… it takes a while. I arranged it months and months ago, before I even met you.” Simon frowns.

“This is not a fake, it’s a real passport. How did you get it?” Oh, fuck. Your throat is as dry as paper, scratchy and stiff, and you force yourself to spit out a coherent sentence.

“I bought it… from a guy.” Brilliant. You sneak a glance at Johnny, who’s watching with a pink sheen on his cheeks, knuckles white against the arm of the couch. He looks upset, and guilt swamps you, worry over making him feel worse in his state eating away inside your heart.

“You know a guy who can get his hands on government issued documents?” Simon holds himself very still. Nearly a statue, his eyes never leave your face, and you move your hands under your thighs to try to stop their trembling.

There’s a familiar feeling building in your chest. A twisted, gnarled root of fear, growing deep. “I… it’s… no, he’s… I was referred to him, by someone else. He doesn’t even know my real name, I’m careful, I’ve-“

“Done this before.” Simon finishes, and your heart stops in your chest.

“Yes.” You whisper. How are they going to feel when they realize you’ve been lying to them about your name? You spiral, imagining the hurt flashing across their faces, the disappointment from Simon, the sadness from Johnny. “I use a new identity, when I move around.”

“Your name…”

“Isn’t my real one.” The admission stings, but that person doesn’t exist anymore. You haven’t been that happy, fulfilled, carefree girl in too long. You don’t know her. You don’t remember her.

She’s dead.

She’s a ghost.

“Will ye tell us? Yer real name?” Simon is thoughtful from where he sits on the chair, focused, as Johnny looks hopeful. They’re both looking at you with trust heavy in their eyes, and it gnaws, burns in your bones all the way through until your real name is slipping free with a whisper.

“That’s beautiful, bun.” Johnny murmurs sweetly, and they exchange a look, something stern etching across Simon’s brow before it drifts away.

“Do you want us to use it?” You shake your head.

“N-no, I… I’m not that girl… anymore. She’s long gone.” The room is silent, and you mull it over, toss it back and forth in your mind. You’re so disconnected from the person you were when you last felt whole, when you last felt real. How will you ever feel that way again?

Something flickers in Simon’s gaze. Something severe and almost sad, a storm in the middle of a sea, a little boat with nowhere to hide, and you get lost in it, lost in him, a million lives and a million emotions clouding the space between your bodies.

He swallows, and it’s gone.

“How does that work with your nursing license?” You blink, but you’re not surprised he knows to ask the one question that will undoubtedly unravel the rest of the threads. The biggest piece of the puzzle.

“I…” Fuck. Are you really going to do this? Are you doing this? 

Do you trust them? 

It’s not a question now, you know the answer. Know why it is you’ve been sleeping in their bed, helping with their baby, living in their house.

It’s more than trust.

“I had a friend in college. Dean.” You’re really doing this. “He was really smart, and really kind, and going places. We were on different paths, but we stayed in touch. As best we could… my ex didn’t really like me talking to… anyone.” Johnny’s fingers slide across the couch, hesitantly brushing your thigh, and it grounds you, calms you. “He became a fancy, big time lawyer. Like, really big time. One of the best in Texas,” Simon’s eyes narrow, head tilted as he stares at you, before it all flits away, and he returns to stasis, “possibly the country. He… he helped me.” You pause, unsure, and Johnny nods encouragingly.

“Helped ye how?”

“I’ve been running, had been running, for a while. Years. At one point, Dean got a judge in a different state to agree to change my name, my identity, everything, and then seal the record. It gave me a chance to disappear, a fresh start to build from. Or, I thought it did, anyway. My ex is… very determined, it didn’t take long for him to catch up.”

“So, your license…”

“Whenever I get a new job, I refer the HR department to my big fancy lawyer in Texas, and he makes sure my license is accepted and they understand the circumstances. I manage the rest… on my own. The turning over of a new identity- identification documents, passports, housing, everything.”

“Do they know anything about this?”

“No. I think they probably think I’m in witness protection or something, and per the court order, they can’t discuss the discrepancy with the name on the license to anyone in the hospital. Dean makes sure of that.” You laugh weakly, but Simon doesn’t, he only studies you, laser focused. “I can’t really have contact with him anymore, because it leaves too much… out in the open, but he’s a really good friend. The best.” Tears blur your vision as you think about Dean, remembering the way he stared at you the night you turned up on his doorstep.

You were so young then. So stupid. But he gave you best chance he could, and you’d always be grateful.

Johnny reaches for where your hand is shoved beneath your thigh, and lightly tugs until it’s in his grasp, warm and safe.

“An’ ye change yer identity every time?” You nod, lips tucking in over your teeth.

“That’s what the passport is for. In most places, a passport counts for both a birth certificate and identification card, so they don’t ask for a secondary. It’s the easiest to use.”

“You were preparing to run.” Simon murmurs.

“Before Johnny became my patient, I was getting ready to, yeah.”

“Why?” You take a deep breath, but your chest feels too tight. Fear is still dripping down the back of your throat, making your stomach sick, your hands tremble.

“I knew he was here.” The words break apart into a sob, and your eyes slam shut.

The next thing you know, you’re breathing into Johnny’s warm chest, a hand running up and down your back slowly.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore.” You cry, gasping. “I.. I’m scared all the time. I run all the time. I d-don’t even know who I am, without it. I don’t know how to be here, or be a normal person, or have a normal conversation.”

“Shhh, yer alright, pretty girl. It’s okay.” Johnny hums, and you feel his diaphragm vibrate as he soothes you.

“I want to be with you… but I don’t know how. I’m terrified he’ll come here and- and hurt you, or Penny. That it will be my fault, like everything else has.” You cry harder, chest aching, Simon’s hands closing around your shoulders and pulling you back to tilt your face up to the two of them.

“It’s not your fault, bunny. None of it, ever, has been your fault. Do you understand?” You shake your head no, because you don’t. You’re good at running, at hiding. You’ve made a new life over and over again by doing it, and getting caught is your fault, no matter what they say.

You slipped up. It could happen again. 

“You don’t understand. I… I should have left, after he found me in my apartment. I should have left.” It sticks in your mind, playing over and over again. “I sh-should have left, I shouldn’t be here, I-“ your vision tunnels.

“Okay, okay. Easy, sweetheart.” Simon tries to settle you, but everything is bubbling up and you feel like you’re going to explode, like your skin is too tight, like you’re falling apart, all at once.

There’s nothing left inside of you, nothing left to do.

You break.

Millions of miles of denial and fear and agony splinter, shattering into shards that destroy you from the inside out.

“He’s going to kill me.” Johnny curses something thick as you sob, palm flat over your racing heart. “He t-took everything. He made me into… into this, and it’s only a matter of time. He’s going to find me again, and he… he’s-“ He cups your cheek.

“Shhh, bunny. We’re here, we’re right here.”

“No, he’s not. Listen-“ you try to pull away but Johnny stops you, holding you firm as Simon ducks into your line of sight. “Listen to me. He’s never going to touch you again, do you understand? We will never let him near you, ever again. We promise.”

“You can’t pr-promise that.”  

“We can,” Simon vows, “but… we need to know everything. What we’re looking for, who he is.”

No. You don’t know why, but there’s a barrier around Phillip’s name. Like you can’t force your tongue to make the sound, and you can’t tell them.

If they know, they’ll look for him. They’ll try to find him; you can already tell.

They’ll get hurt, or worse.

You can’t let that happen.

“I can’t.” You whisper. “I can’t.” Johnny pulls you back into his arms, and you curl up against him, his chin on top of your head. They look at one another, long glances you can’t interpret, before Simon takes a deep breath, his hand gentle on your knee.

“Bunny… do you have a child? Someone you’re trying to protect?” Your eyes slip shut, and despair grips your throat like a vice.

“No.” You croak. “No, there would have been one but…” you drag the truth into the light. “I lost it. He didn’t want it so… he got rid of it.” They both freeze.

“Sweetheart.” Simon whispers, Johnny’s arms going rigid, and you shrug, slipping away from this moment, from them.

“It was a long time ago.” You pause, keeping your eyes closed. “I’m fine.” Johnny scoffs.

“The hell ye are. And ye shouldnae be.” You shake between them, exhaustion settling into your bones like it belongs there, and they linger in silence with you, in the moment, letting it stretch long before Simon murmurs something and brushes his fingertips against your cheek.

“We’ll wait, until you’re ready.” You relax with a small sigh. “But if we don’t know who we’re dealing with, that means no more coming and going. I don’t want you outside this house without me, do you understand?”

“I’m going back to work.” You refute immediately.

“When you’re ready to go back, we’ll come up with a plan to keep you safe.” He says sternly, and you swallow, eyes wide.

“We jus’ want to keep ye safe, pretty girl.” Simon tugs your hand into his, and murmurs lowly.

“I know you’re independent, and you’re used to being on your own, but we’re here now. You don’t have to do this alone. We’ve got you.” Tears burn at the corner of your eyes.

You should tell them no, but you can’t.

You should be angry, or nervous, or even scared, but all you can feel is relief.

You don’t have to do this alone.

The house is quiet when you wake up the next morning.

It’s odd now, opening your eyes to an empty bed. All you’ve known for years, is being alone. All you’ve relied on for so long, was yourself.

But now, when your arms and legs spread wide between the sheets and you come up empty, panic flutters in your heart. “Johnny? Simon?” When there’s no answer, you stumble over the side, loping steps hauling you down the stairs and into the living room.

Johnny’s half-awake on the couch in his boxers, flipping idly through television programs. You breathe a little bit easier, and he cracks a smile. “Morning, pretty.”

“Morning.” You bend in front of him, swooping down to press your lips to his. “Where’s…”

“He took Pen to swim. She’s in classes and then has a playdate at a friend’s house after. Busy wee one, our Penny.” Fingers idly rub against the skin beneath his ear, tracing down to his collarbone.

“You eat breakfast?”

“Was waitin’ for ye.” Something dark and hungry glints in his eyes, and your knees go weak.

“Oh, w-well I can make you someth-“

“No.” He traces down the inside of your thigh, where he’s eye level, and then up, backs of his fingers stroking over the front of your panties, thumb skirting along the seam between your legs. “Not hungry for food, bun. Just for ye.”

“O-oh.” His thumb presses, just enough pressure brushing against your clit, and you gasp, hand shooting out to steady yourself on the arm of the sofa, where his head is.

His lips touch to the inside of your wrist, and he grins. “C’mere Bunny.”

“You’re still recovering.” Your fingers twist in the hem of the t shirt you grabbed off the floor, one of theirs.

“My face isn’t.” His hands wrap around the backs of your thighs, tugging you closer. “My face is the perfect seat for ye, pretty girl. Let me make ye feel good.” Everything tightens, your chest, your heart, each blood vessel stitched throughout your body. Your clit pulses, knot in your stomach tying so tight it makes you lightheaded, agony and arousal singing together in perfect harmony. It’s a song with perfect pitch, swirling around the two of you in euphoric polyphony.

You want this. Want him. Want to let it all go. 

“Johnny.”

“Got a seat for ye,” his fingers trace over his lip and down his neck, where his throat bobs with a swallow. You can’t pull your eyes away. “Right ‘ere.”

It doesn’t take more coaxing after he tucks his fingers into your underwear and rolls them down your thighs, giving you a light pat just under your ass, shifting and arranging until you’re perched across his shoulders.

“What if you can’t breathe?” Your voice hitches on a panicked note, and he rubs your legs soothingly.

“Then I’ll die a happy man.” You choke. “Just kiddin’ bunny. Ye cannae hurt me, I can breathe just fine.” His eyebrows crinkle and crease, soft expression puckering down to where his lips part.

Let go. You can do it. You want this. Just let go. 

“I- I’m not very good with…” You gulp, chest heaving. “With sex, I uh. I don’t have good memories of it, and I’ve never… I’ve never done this.” It’s the best you can explain, in this moment, and you pray it’s enough, that he’ll understand.

“We’ll go slow.” He promises, still rubbing circles into the backs of your legs, grabbing fistfuls of your ass and thighs, pressing long kisses into your skin. “Ye tell me to stop, if ye dinnae like it or ye want to stop, promise?” You nod. “Say it, pretty girl.”

“I’ll tell you… to stop.” He smiles, and urges you forward, palms still curved around your cheeks.

“Cannae wait to taste ye,” you move slowly, hesitantly, and he encourages gently, patting and rubbing patiently, eyes locked your face the entire time, “have been dreamin’ about it, since that day ye didnae wear any panties to work.”

“Johnny!” you hiss, playfully scandalized, heart trilling. He’s turned a miserable memory, a scary memory, into something not so bad, so easily. It means a lot, means more than you think he knows, and you’re just about to tell him when you feel heat slip across your skin, thumbs stroking down the seam of your cunt. He jerks you forward completely, until the bottom half of his face is missing, and all you can see beneath your legs is a crop of mohawk.

The first touch is heaven. He’s warm, and safe, and you melt onto him, indulging in the feeling of it all. His arms wrap around your hips, anchoring you in place, mouth sloppy against your pussy like he’s trying to devour you whole. You jerk, falling forward at the waist, one hand against the couch, the other fisted in his hair, trying to create space for him to breathe.

“No.” He growls, slamming you back down, nose bumping against your clit over and over as his tongue dives into you, curling up into your body.

You close your eyes. You need more friction, but you don’t know what to do, don’t know how to get it, and the longer you try to figure it out, the more you’re slipping away, kicking and fighting in darker waters.

Stay present. Stay here. With him. You’re safe. Let go. 

Your breath stutters in your chest. Two factions fight one another, one trying to catapult you towards an orgasm faster than you’ve ever gotten there in your life, and the other, trying and failing to stem the memories and anxiety that bleed freely from your brain. The pleasure is mixed with pain, with nightmares, and your muscles turn to rock, eyes slamming shut.

A big, warm hand settles between your shoulder blades.

You jolt away from it, but when your eyes snap open-

You see Simon.

He’s on his knees at your side, part of your thigh now pressed against his chest. He watches you intently, sweeping over your features and down to where you’re sitting on Johnny’s face, half relaxed, half coiled tense.

“You’re in control, sweetheart.” Even kneeling, he’s tall enough that he’s nearly eye level with you, and Johnny’s free hand searches for him when he hears his voice. Simon gives him a squeeze, and then lovingly strokes some of his hair from his forehead. “Our sweet boy just wants to make you feel good. Do you want that?”

“Y-yeah.. but I don’t… I don’t know how.” You squeak, burning with embarrassment, still clutching the couch. He pulls that hand free, into his, and rubs a thumb over the back of your knuckles, before placing it back against the armrest. It’s comforting, and reassuring, and he keeps the other one anchored at your back.

“Just relax.” He murmurs above your ear, now cradling your hips. “Hold onto the couch with both hands, like that- good girl.” His grip tightens, and then slowly, he starts to move you. “Find what feels good, take your time.” You roll your hips slowly, looking for the right amount of pressure, the friction you’re desperate for, and Johnny moans beneath you, his own hips flexing. “There you go, does that feel good?” Simon’s eyes are nearly black, and you nod hungrily. “Ride him just like that, don’t stop.”

“Oh my god.” You moan, tilting back. Each time Johnny’s nose or tongue rubs against your clit it’s like lightning striking in your blood, and warmth crackles around you like a blanket.

“Fuck,” Simon growls, palm pressing against your lower belly. “Look a’ the two of you, all mine.” The possession shivers across your skin and you moan, head heavy. Johnny’s tongue finds your rhythm, and then he’s flicking across your clit like he’s plucking a string, a perfect note.

“Johnny, ah…” He groans something in response, the vibration shooting straight to your brain. You tip to the side, face pressing into Simon’s neck, and he supports your weight, keeping a hand on your hip, now spread over where Johnny holds you. You're in a frenzy now, panting, chasing, rough pace only increasing with desperation.

“Good girl, rubbing your little pussy all over our sweet boy’s face. Is he going to make you cum? Can you show daddy how pretty you are when you cum?” Daddy. The word makes you dizzy, strikes you dumb. Simon’s lips press to the crown of your head, and all you can do is gasp and whine, hips jerking across Johnny’s nose and mouth, slick, lewd noises coming from between your legs.

“Oh, oh- fuck,” you gasp, fingers now tightening in Johnny’s hair, electricity sparking through your muscles like fireworks, “I’m gonna- I’m-“ You drag yourself across him, chasing the edge of oblivion, white light crackling behind your eyes as you clench them shut with a near shout. Your orgasm shoots through you, exploding every cell in your body into star light, everything heating together as your eyes roll backwards and your hips shake. Johnny grunts, still anchoring you down onto him, aftershocks rattling through your bones to your teeth. Simon pries him lose, keeping a hand on you, and him, as he pulls you back to reveal Johnny’s face.

He's soaked. Neck, chin, cheeks, stubble all coated in you, and your eyes goes wide, wicked pleasure at the sight curling in the pit of your stomach.

You did that. Your boy.

Simon chuckles like he’s reading your mind, tucking you into his chest before pulling you free and placing you in the space next to Johnny on the couch, laying down. He kisses him slowly, softly, running his tongue over his cheeks before returning to dip back into his mouth and pulling away. “Stay, ‘m gonna go get a towel to clean you both up.” He says quietly, kissing your nose before rising and slipping off into the kitchen. Johnny tries to tug you closer.

“How was that?” You can hear the smug smile and his face as he breaks the silence, and your cheeks burn.

“Really good.”

“Hmph, I was shooting for amazing, so I guess we’ll just have to try again.”

“That’s not… it was!” He laughs, and then gives you a half hug with his good arm.

“Ye were perfect, bunny. We’re so lucky to have ye.” Tears burn and threaten to spill.

“I’m the lucky one.” You whisper, and you don’t know if anything could be truer. It’s more than luck now, more than a chance meeting, a chance occurrence. It’s something bigger, something all consuming, something stronger than anything you’ve ever known.

Something bright, like the sun.

Something like… love. 

[divinesolas]

First everything

Summary: in desperate need to pass your upcoming math test you go to your best friend for help, your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with. Sometimes feelings just spill out and theres nothing you can do but embrace it and try to navigate through it.

modern!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

w.c: 4.2k

c.w: college au, nerdy jace, two virgins just trying to figure it out, virginity loss (both), fingering (fem), oral (fem), minor hand-job, p in v, protected sex, love confessions, glasses stay on during sex, theres also fluff guys, not proofread

a.n: for my nerdy jace warriors out there 🫡 pls lmk your thoughts !

perm jace taglist (open!) <3 @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels

you could not afford to fail this upcoming math test with you’re grade already as rocky as it is and if you didn’t nail it your grades were gonna tank.

So you decide to do the only rational thing you can think of and go stop by your best friends house who just so happens to be basically a genius to get him to tutor you. You don’t text him, having a key to his place and checking his location you can see he’s home he definitely won’t mind you just dropping by.

He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, having lived across the street from you the two of you would always stand by the bus stop together and chat and when you got older he started driving you to school. you guys would spend all the time together though you guys didn’t end up in the same college you guys happened to both get into colleges in the same city and lived right near each other.

He was perfect essentially, you try to ignore that gnawing feeling in your stomach every time you speak to him or even think about him. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember but you never tried to do anything out of fear of ruining the relationship you two have built. You also can’t get a read on if he feels the same, everything you two have ever done has been platonic, cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, having sleepovers, but you can shake the feeling of wanting to be more, maybe he was thinking the same way but you had no clue.

The apartment is quiet when you enter, when you call his name and there’s no response you think for a second maybe he went out and left his phone? but that’s not like him at all. until you walk towards his bathroom and you can hear the shower running and let out a sigh of relief as you begin to set up your stuff in the living room and order some take out for the two of you on your phone.

busying yourself on your phone you don’t even hear the shower turn off or the door open until you hear the soft thumps on the floor of his footsteps and when you look up the two of you gasp at one another. With water dripping down his chest and a firm hand places on the towel around his waist, his glasses all fogged up and his face hot red you feel like you might pass out.

“I’m so sorry oh my god i had no clue you were coming i haven't checked my phone um oh god.” You can barely pay attention to his rambling as you can’t take your eyes off him. Since when was he toned? oh and the towel is low enough you can see his v line. NO! You shake your head as you find yourself heating up, “no no its my fault Jace i never texted you i just thought i would show up um.. I’m so sorry i should have texted.”

He scratches the back of his head as he begins to move his way to his room, “no its okay you can show up any time i just, um i uh let me go get dressed.” With that he quickly rushes away without another word his ears and face blaringly red. when the door shuts and you’re alone once again you lean against the couch and take a couple deep breaths. you cannot be thinking about him like this right now. Your thighs press together unconsciously as the memory of him was still so fresh in your mind.

You quickly stand and rush to his bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to snap yourself out of it. he’s your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with and today will fill your fantasies for the next decade. You manage to get yourself back on the couch and run a hand down your face as you try to calm your racing heart and mind. Its fine its cool its just a normal thing people shower and they just so happen to get naked in the shower its not weird to see your best friend shirtless no its not.

he walks back into the room and sits down on the couch next to you, now dressed in a white t-shirt and some sweatpants, his glasses free of fog but his hair drips onto his shoulders and shirt making some parts of it see through. when you look closely you can even still see his ears are a bright red. “is everything good? its not like you to just show up out of the blue.” you are thankful he’s acting like that did not just happen, or maybe you’re just overthinking it and its not a big deal.

“i need to trade brains with you this Friday at 11 am.” his beautiful laugh fills your ears as he raises his brows at you, “you’re finally admitting I'm smarter than you?” You playfully huff and push his shoulder lightly as he smiles at you. “you’re way better at math then me, i need help Jace please.” you press your hands together in a plea and he taps his chin as if he’s in thought. “I don’t know, what do i get in return?” You pout at him and scoot a bit closer, “you get to hang out with your gorgeous smart and talented best friend?” He blows raspberry's and looks up at the ceiling turning himself away from you. “and i bought take out.” “deal.”

He is a great help, though he’s a history major he’s still places in a math level higher than you and he’s able to guide you though everything you’re struggling with ease. Its usually so easy to ignore how you feel about him but tonight is different. You don't know if its hormones or if there's something in the air but you can’t stop staring at him thinking about him. The way he bites on the top of his pen when he’s in thought, when his forehead creases while he’s checking over your work or listening to you, the way he moves his hands while he talks and explains the problems and the solutions you can’t even stop looking at him while he’s eating.

This was bad. very bad. but at least you managed to get the information he’s told you poured into your head and with his notes you’re sure to ace the test. After a couple hours of studying you two decided to put on a movie but you can’t even cuddle up next to him like you normally would instead choosing to lay on the other side of the couching praying he doesn’t ask about you’re odd behavior.

You can’t help but continue to look at him throughout the movie barely even looking at the screen. he has such a nice side profile. At one point he glances at you and catches your eye so you quickly turn away from him but he sits up and pauses the movie, turning to you with concern laced in his eyes. “Okay spit it out what's wrong?” you. you shrug and try to play it off like nothing, you certainly can’t tell him what's really bothering you. “I’m just worried about the test.” “the you i know would have stopped worrying about the test as soon as you closed that textbook.” you let out a shaky sigh and he moves to sit next to you, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes desperately. “you can always tell me anything you know that right?”

not this. you can’t tell him this. as much as you want to. Yet your heart aches at the thought of not being able to kiss him at the thought of not spending yet another day another minute being his and him being yours. he grabs your hands and his voice is hushed laced with care, “please.”

you cave.

“I'm in love with you.”

You watch him freeze and you take a deep breath as you look down at your connected hands. “i know this is really sudden but i cant hide this any longer. i think I've loved you since the second i met you and i cant keep continuing to pretend like I'm not. If you don’t feel the same that's fine we can just move on and pretend like this never happened.” you let out a fake laugh and a couple shaky breaths as you get off your chest your best kept secret. When he doesn’t say anything you look at his face to see his glossy covered eyes and red tinted face. “Please say something.”

You can feel his hands tighten around yours as he lets out a shaky breath. “I'm so in love with you i feel like i'm gonna throw up.” you laugh as a wave of fresh air washes over you, he grins and lets out his own laugh as a lone tear runs down his face. “fuck this is not how i thought tonight would go.” You don’t know how long the two of you were sitting there just laughing and smiling at each other but it was just so peaceful.

You end up cupping his face and he freezes his breath caught in his throat. “Can i kiss you?” “Please.” The kiss is soft and slow but its everything you’ve every dreamed of. His lips are as soft as they've always looked, he’s clearly inexperienced but you are too and you figure it out together. You feel like you’re not close enough to him, so you end up separating from him and he watches with wide eyes as you sit yourself in his lap. His hands quickly move to grasp your waist as he gulps, you can feel his hardness poking at you through your shorts and he lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to its just,” he’s quickly cut off with a moan as you pull him into another kiss.

You can feel yourself aching in your stomach, yet you can’t bring yourself to do more until you pull away from his lips. a long string of salvia that connects you two snaps as you begin to speak. “I want to go further, if only you want to.” His chest moves quickly up and down as he tries to catch his breath, he blinks rapidly as he looks at you with swollen lips, one of his hands moves to readjust his glasses. “I do its just, i don’t know what i'm doing.” the two of you softly laugh as you press your forehead against his and he lightly rubs his nose against yours. “I don’t know what I'm doing either, we’ll figure it out.”

His hands around your waist tighten as he places one last kiss on your lips before he stands, you squeal lightly as he keeps you firmly around his waist walking towards his room. “You could put me down you know?” He places a kiss on your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t want to.”

Once in the bedroom he lightly places you down on the bed and he stays standing up unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “do i like take off my clothes um.” You stand and the two of you look at one another. “Why don’t we both undress? or do you want to undress each other?” At your words his eyes light up and his ears couldn’t get any redder, he clearly likes the idea a lot so you grab his hands and place them on your shirt. “You can take it off.” He nods and lets out a shaky breath as he lifts your shirt over your head.

If you had known this was going to happen you would have chosen a cuter bra but you instead stand in your basic skin tone bra, heat rises on your face lightly with embarrassment but the look of amazement on his face has you feeling confident. You grab his hands once more and slide them to your waist where you help him tug down your pants and you stand in just your underwear in front of him. His mouth opens in amazement as his eyes dart all over you. “you’re so beautiful.” “shut up.” “im serious. you’re the most beautiful women ive ever seen. im the luckiest guy in the world.”

You place your hands on his neck as you place a light kiss on his lips. “you’re so sweet.” He shakes his head and his hands cup your face eyes full of love. “im only telling the truth.” Your hands move to the neck of his shirt and grip it. “Your turn.” His bright red face somehow only gets redder when you slide your hands down his chest to grab the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head. “when did you start working out?” He lets out a light moan as your hands drag down his stomach and rub around his chest. “when i moved here uhh the umm the complex has a gym.” You lightly um as your hands reach the waistband of his pants and you begin to toy with the elastic.

He expects you to take off his pants move back to sit on the bed but instead your hands goes inside the waistband to cup his budge from his briefs. The sound he lets out is not what you had been expecting, it sounds something closer to a whine as he questions you, “what are you doing?” You grin at him as his eyes dart all over your face. “Can i touch you?” He pants lightly as your hands already begins to move slight and he gulps. “shouldn’t i touch you? or umm oh i don’t know fuck please.” his head falls to your neck and he begins pecking light kisses on the skin there as your hand slips into his briefs and wraps around him.

He throbs in your hands, you lightly jerk him to see how he responds and you can hear a pleased moan as you continue to pump him in your hand using the precum that drips out of his tip as a lubricant you find a steady pace. He bites into the side of your neck and you let out a shaky moan as his grip tightens on your waist. you can feel wetness soak your skin whether it be his sweat or tears you have no clue but the only thing you can focus on his whines and moans in your ear. “you’re so good fuck fuck.” he must be getting close because you can feel him shaking but he suddenly grabs your hands and pulls them away from him as he pants.

“did i do something wrong? im sorry.” he quickly shakes his head, “no no of course not i just don’t want to um cum right now.” you tilt your head in confusion, why would he not want to cum? until he turns his head and even his neck has turned red and a light bulb flicks over your head and you let out an sound of understanding and grab his sweatpants to pull them down until they hit the floor.

you both stand face to face in just your underwear, you watch him eye your chest and you reach your hands up to unclip your bra. you slowly unclip it and he watches as it drags down your arms and you toss it lightly on the floor. you sit down on the bed and you motion for him to join you. he does and he warily watches your face for approval which you grant before he cups your breasts with a shuttered breath. You can tell somethings bothering him though, theres a look in his eyes that says somethings wrong but before you can question it he speaks.

“can i touch you?” its the same question you had throw at him but it gives you butterflies, you wonder if it had done the same to him. you spread your legs and he stares at the spot between your legs where you’re soaked. theres a huge spot on your practically ruined panties where you’ve begun to leak, theres even some residual wetness on your inner thighs. “fuck.” he licks his lips and looks up at you and your flushed face. “don’t get cocky jace.” he laughs lightly as his fingers press against your slit from the fabric and you let out a moan. he watches for your reactions as he begins to rub you through the fabric, “Jace, please.”

his fingers shake as they push the fabric aside and he touches your folds. “oh fuck you’re so fucking wet.” he just continues to rub at your skin, it feels nice but you both know you need more. “how many should i,,” he trails off, unsure of how to word the question. “two, just to start, you can add another when i tell you.” he nods and slowly pushes two fingers into you.

his fingers feel a lot better than yours do they're thicker and they're longer reaching a bit more than you can and your hands dig into his shoulders. “good?” you hiss lightly for a second as his hands wiggle lightly before nodding. “yes move please.” he quickly listens, pulling his fingers out before slowly pushing them back in methodically. He feeds off every sound you let out and moves quicker as your face contorts in pleasure. it feels good but its not enough and when you tell him he can add another he finger he looks at you unsure but when you reassure him its fine he does and the burn it adds satisfies the itch that you know can only be scratched once he’s inside of you.

when he pulls his fingers out before you can cum you whine but he just smiles at you “lift your hips for me.” you do and he slides your underwear down your legs exposing you fully to him. He takes a second to admire you before your eyes widen as he gets down on his knees, “i thought guys didn’t like that.” you try to tell him but he just shrugs, “i bet i will.”

he kisses you inner thighs slowly working his way up to your slit where he pauses before he lightly licks at your folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. your hand finds it way to his hair as he warily licks every drop of you he can get. when you tug at his hair he groans, you try your best to avoid his glasses which sit pushed up into his hair. Your face contorts with pleasure as you throw your head back. he’s messy and clearly unsure of what he’s doing but it doesn’t matter to you as he brings you closer to your release. you can feel your stomach burning as he suddenly pulls away and looks at you, he looks gorgeous with his hair a mess and his lips glossy.

“could you show me um where uh,,,” your brows furrow in confusion until you laugh and sit up. “its fine here.” you grab his hand and use his finger to push around inside of you until his finger presses against your clit and your moan. you suddenly fall back once again with your hands playing with your breasts while one of his hand plays with your clit and his other on your knee to keep your legs parted while he tongue works his way inside of you. you can no longer ignore the burning in your stomach as it becomes harder and harder to push down. “Jace I'm gonna oh fuck.” the grip you have on his hair tightens as you hiss when he continues to work you till you shake with pleasure and you essence drips into his mouth down his jaw and neck.

He shakily stands and licks his lips seemingly not caring that he was a mess. “do i-“ you pull him down on top of you and press your lips against him in a feverish kiss which he returns, “i want to be on top.” his eyes widen, “will that be good for you?” you nod rapidly eager to feel him inside of you and your eyes practically turn into hearts when he stands and pulls down his briefs, his hardness slapping his stomach you barely get the chance to admire him before he rummages around in his bedside table pulling out a clearly new box of condoms.

he struggles to open them slight with his shaky hands but manages to open it and grab one. when he looks back at you and your amused expression he looks down at the box with embarrassment. “Aegon got it for me. he was trying to tease me.” you grab him to sit on the bed and get him to lay back against the headboard while you grabbed the packet out of his hands. “then ill have to thank him later.”

you open the condom with your teeth before slowly sliding it down his length causing him to hiss and close his eyes to calm himself. the two of you look at each other as you sit up, “are you good?” he nods and lightly thanks you, “are you?” you also nod and you grab him to position him into your opening while he pulls his glasses back down to his face. with one last look you begin to sink down onto him.

you put your forehead against his and the two of you shudder with pleasure the lower and lower you get. once you get as low as you can go you pause and the two of you take a few moments to readjust. his glasses fog up as he catches your lips in his, when your hips move slightly up then back down he bites at your lip before throwing his head back and whines slightly while your mouth lulls open in pleasure.

You two find a simply rhythm with you moving up and down. sweat covering your bodies as the two of you sing in pleasure, his glasses are basically completely covered now with fog and you take them off his face before shoving your lips messily against his as his hands grip your hips to help you move up and down on him. the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and moans and whines fill the hot room. he throbs inside of you as he hits spots you've never been able to reach, your head falls into the cave of his neck neck as you feel yourself close. “Jace fuck you’re so good fuck.” he whines and bites your shoulder again “please cum please Jace fuck wanna feel it.” he cries into your neck as he nods, “i love you i love you so much.” “i love you too Jace.” when he feels you release around him it pushes him over the edge where he's shooting his load into his condom.

the two of you fall completely on top of each other in a sweaty sticky mess. you catch your breaths unable to think straight. no words are spoken for awhile until you sit up lightly and push the hair away from his sweaty face. “we should have done that sooner.” the two of you laugh as you peck his lips. “i really love you a lot Jace.” he beams and grabs his glasses to fiddle them back onto his face. “i love you too.” you hum and kiss his cheek. “as nice as you being inside me is i really have to pee.” the two of you hiss as you pull away and he sits up to watch you stumble your way towards the bathroom. he tosses the condom away and he stands to get a cup of water not bothering to put on any of his clothes.

he hands you a glass when you walk out of the bathroom and you chug it down before looking at yourself with disgust. “i need a shower.” “you can use it i don't mind.” you roll your eyes and slap his shoulder much to his confusion. “that's when you’re supposed to say then lets take one together dummy.” his face flushes for the millionth time that night as you walk away and sigh as you turn to see him not following you. “come on you’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” he downs his glass and quickly hurries to follow you as you giggle.

[hornedmonsters]

"A'thaen" Yautja Oc x Reader - Mate - nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, size difference, dead animals, yautja seeks a partner, exophilia, teratophilia, monster x human, alien sex, slow burn, sex in water, sex outdoors, blood play, breeding - English is not my native language!

Synopsis: You used to live in a small house near a forest. But one day you sensed something, someone was watching you and brought you gifts. A strange creature that could kill you with sheer force and he was looking for a mate for life.

Words: 8k

German Version

You never worried about whether it was safe to live alone in an old house near the forest. The nearest big town was a good half hour away from you and it was rare for people to pass by. The letter carrier, maybe, but very rarely. Not even tourists or hikers were to be seen here. The nature around you was rough and a bear liked to sneak around the river near you. It was dangerous, especially in the salmon season, but you respected nature and its fauna and stuck to the rules:

Stay on the path.

Stay out of the way of mother animals.

Never get between predator and prey.

Make noises so that you are not suddenly confronted without warning.

And most importantly. Never travel in the dark without weapons. You had a weapon but never used it, you wanted to avoid it because you didn't see weapons as a positive thing. They only caused death and destruction and people had become dangerous beings through war and hatred. One of the reasons you lived out here.

You stared out of the window. Dark clouds were moving across the sky, it was definitely going to rain soon and somehow you were looking forward to it. You loved rain, it calmed you down and you always took one of your many books and made yourself comfortable on your sofa. Enjoying the peace and quiet, listening to the patter of the rain while the wind whistled outside and the trees gave way awkwardly under the force of the wind and the rain.

You flinched when you suddenly heard wolves howling in the distance. Puzzled, you looked up. Normally wolves had little desire to be active in this weather, at least that's what you thought, but you could hear how restless the otherwise brave predators were. You sat so still on your sofa, as if a murderer was going to jump in at any moment and you were trying not to attract attention because of the silence.

It was only seconds before an agonizing, screaming squeak made you tremble. It sounded like a wolf, but its wail was so high-pitched that it almost sounded like a child in agonizing pain. You swallowed. Your heart pounded and fear rose up inside you. What was out there?

The next scream made you flinch even more, but it didn't stop at two. A pack consisted of five to fourteen members. Alpha animals, kittens, puppies. Everything was there, sometimes even the grandparents were still there if they had a good chance of living. You knew the pack. You affectionately called them the River pack, because the wolves always stayed close to the river and had their territory there. The river was about five hundred meters from your home and you could clearly hear one wolf after another going silent. It made your blood run cold.

Something strange was going on out there. What kind of predator would kill an entire pack of at least seven animals just like that? There were seven of the Riverwolves at your last count. It was a comfortable pack size and you enjoyed watching them with your binoculars. A bear perhaps? But did bears ever attack a whole pack of wolves?

Out of paranoia you checked the door again, fine, it was locked. There was another door, it led into a small stable of sorts. But there was nothing in it, you had emptied it out and used it as a kind of lair as you had no animals. You no longer felt like reading, so you got ready for bed and went to sleep. Even though your pulse was still beating strongly against your skin.

It took a while for you to fall asleep, but when sleep pulled you in, it was deep and firm. You woke up refreshed and got out of bed. Your breakfast consisted only of an apple, as you were rarely hungry after getting up. You packed your bag and went out the door. You wanted to go for a walk, even though you were still feeling the effects of last night. But it always smelled so good after it had rained. Especially in the forest.

You hummed to yourself and went on your daily walk. You knew this route inside out, since you've lived here, you've always walked it as best you could. It led you past berry bushes where you had tasted some of the sweet fruits and every now and then you could spot a deer.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice how you were being watched. But how could you? The creature was invisible and hiding in one of the trees, staring at you like a vulture that had found new carrion. The creature followed you for a few meters and watched your every move. Almost curiously.

Your legs carried you unintentionally to the river, you wanted to see the area. Maybe you could find out what had killed the wolves, but it was as if nothing had ever happened. No blood, no cadavar, nothing! Someone had done a thorough job and you were beginning to fear that it might be poachers who were up to mischief here. You didn't see the danger coming, but He did.

A crack in the bush sent shivers down your spine and you turned cautiously. A large grizzly stepped out of the undergrowth. Its heavy panting made you gulp and you walked slowly backwards until you could feel the gravel under your shoes. Behind you was the riverbed and you considered jumping in, but at the same time you were worried that it might trigger the bear in front of you. Today was definitely not your day.

“Take it easy,” you whispered and tried to breathe calmly. But the bear in front of you stomped up, a growl came from its throat and then the male animal reared up in front of you in all its glory. Your eyes grew wide and your instincts kicked in, you ran. The bear's roar still in your ears, he was so close and tears welled up in your eyes. What had you done to deserve this now? What had you done wrong?

You really thought you were going to die, the thought of bears eating their prey alive and not bothering to kill them beforehand made your stomach churn. Your lungs burned and a root became your doom. You hadn't seen it and painfully you tripped over it and fell into the shallow water. You groaned as the stones tore open your knees and the bear's heavy gallops came closer. You were about to scramble to your feet just as the beast's huge jaws shot towards you. But things turned out differently than you had expected.

The grizzly was pushed aside with full force, but you couldn't see anyone. Even the bear seemed confused, but it sensed something. Now it was even angrier and another roar came from its mouth. He ran towards a place where there was no one, but it seemed different. The bear actually grabbed someone, but your eyes couldn't see him. For the time being. But then outlines flashed, they were hard to make out, they glowed, then they showed some skin. Dark skin, lizard-like. Confused and disturbed, you drew your brows together and watched the spectacle.

The bear didn't stand a chance, even though he put up a brave fight. He took blow after blow, but then he bit down when his half-invisible opponent briefly lost focus. Green liquid flowed out of the bear's mouth and it turned back in your direction. But before anything could happen to you, the bear howled. Its throat was severed with a smooth cut.

A strangled cry escaped your throat as the invisible creature lifted the lifeless body, which weighed a good three hundred kilos. Then it revealed itself. Its skin became clearer and you gulped as you looked at the large alien-like creature before you. Drenched in the blood of its victim. Under the red you could see obsidian skin, he was wearing a mask and you forgot to breathe. Would he kill you now too? Had he saved you?

“Thank you,” you breathed, not noticing the tears running down your cheeks as the adrenaline slowly wore off and you were safe for now. The alien tilted its head slightly and a clicking sound came from its mouth. You felt uncomfortable under his probing gaze. Then he threw the bear over his shoulder and left. You quickly got up and watched him go. He simply disappeared into the forest and left you alone. You held your hand to your chest and a weeping sigh escaped from your dry throat. You ran home as fast as you could. You had definitely had enough of today.

You avoided the forest for the next few days, you had little desire to get into a situation like that again, besides there was this creature you didn't know what it was. You tried to put things behind you, it hadn't returned and the bad weather outside made you sit in your cozy home and read your books again. You drank tea and tried not to think about that day anymore.

If he/she had wanted to kill you, he/she would have done it long ago. You sighed and put some more wood in your fireplace. Despite the heat, you were shivering and not even the raindrops on your window could calm down. Just when you thought you were at peace, there was a bang outside. Someone had knocked over your garbage cans, or something. You took a deep breath and stood up. Your feet carried you towards the door, your mind racing, wondering if you were doing the right thing and if you were about to die.

Your fingertips touched the knob and you cautiously opened the back door. You couldn't react at all when a heavy weight slammed against the wood and you landed on the floor with a yelp. A dull thud beside you. Your eyes widened after you rubbed your bottom painfully. There it was! Next to you, its dark skin covered in a green. Liquid that had to be his blood.

As if struck by lightning, you got up and examined the creature in front of you. It still had its helmet on, but a large notch adorned the metal. That wasn't there last time. A clicking sound drew you out of your spell. Your eyes scrutinized him critically. His breathing was heavy and he seemed to be injured. Should you really be helping him? But he had helped you too. You sigh.

You slowly walked towards him. A growl came from his throat and you flinched, raising your hands.

I don't want to hurt you, you whispered, and his helmet turned more in your direction. He was watching you intently, you felt it and it made you nervous.

“Let me help you,” you spoke slowly, hoping he understood. Another click, he seemed to be thinking. But then came a nod and carefully you moved closer to him.

“You have to take it off,” you whispered, looking at his helmet. The creature hesitated and only now did you see how tall it actually was. It had to be well over two meters. No wonder he could slay a bear with his bare claws.

He didn't even try to struggle to his feet as he almost grabbed the helmet. You heard a few clicks as if something was opening on the helmet and slowly it let go. You held your breath as you slowly saw what was hiding under the mask.

A large head, four fangs that could fold out, it reminded you of a spider and you shivered, silver eyes staring at you. It seemed almost amused when the creature noticed you staring at it, it had probably already expected such a reaction. But you remain calm.

You quickly fetch your first aid kit and get out the essentials. A bowl of warm water, thread and needle, everything was ready. You carefully started to wipe the blood off his smooth scales. You couldn't describe how it felt. He was neither cold nor warm, his obsidian black skin was dull and spikes grew out in places. He had long dreadlocks with blood red beads woven into them and his small silver eyes watched you intently. His muscles were firm and sinewy, it almost felt like he had metal plates underneath, but it was just his pure strength and he looked really strong. Big and powerful. You gulped.

His looks made you uneasy and you didn't know exactly what it was. Countless faded scars adorned his body, he must have fought a lot in his life. But one scar caught your eye the most. It was a large, elongated scar on his chest, it hadn't been a clean cut, it looked more like someone had tried to rip something out of his chest. You couldn't just survive something like that.

“Scared?” the creature suddenly croaked and you stiffened. It could talk?! You tried to stay cool and took a quick breath.

“No,” you said firmly and stared into his eyes, not wanting to appear weak. The next wound was on his chest and you gently stroked the rough flesh. He purred, but it didn't sound painful, more soothing… like he was… enjoying it. You tried to concentrate, but his mere presence made you fuzzy and the feel of his muscles under his skin made you weak. You gritted your teeth. Stop it, (y/n)! He's an alien, dammit!

“You like… what you… See?” he asked brokenly and you ignored the glow in your cheeks. He was toying with you, you saw the amusement in his eyes. His ego was bigger than he was and really, you should have kicked him out.

You didn't answer him, but started stitching up his wounds. His eyes were half closed and he was watching you with a predatory look. Under your hands you could feel how tense he was. He was still in flight mode and ready to kill at any moment.

“Why are you hurt?” you asked now and he clicked again.

“Fight,” he breathed deeply.

“What were you fighting? You defeated the bear with ease and there's nothing bigger out there,” he had remained silent and just continued to stare at you. You tensed up and now your eyes found his.

“There isn't anything bigger out there, is there?” you almost panicked. He snorted in exhaustion, but there was ambition in his eyes.

“Yes…, but…dead,” he growled, making a few more chirping sounds, ”I… have…killed.” That was the last thing he said before his eyes closed and he was gone. His body was apparently close to the limit and he must have really put a lot of strength into the fight. You looked at his wounds again, in peace. Now that he was asleep. He was really lucky they didn't go any deeper. He must really be an experienced fighter, what creature would mess with him?

You shook your head and washed your hands. Then you grabbed a pillow and a blanket and put his head on the pillow, then you put the blanket over him, even though he was way too big for it. But it was better than nothing.

What did you get yourself into?

The big robber slept until the next day. You got up, but he was no longer lying on the floor where he had last fallen asleep. Somehow you weren't surprised that he had left. He had no reason to stay. But at least he had tidied up the blanket and pillow. You sighed and put the first aid kit back in its place, but a rumble made you sit up. It came from outside your front door.

Astonished but curious, you opened the door only to see, with a stifled scream, a large grizzly skull lying on your porch. There was no flesh left on the bone and it had been thoroughly cleaned. You had a feeling that it was the grizzly that had attacked you a few days ago.

Hesitantly you picked up the skull, you had a slight idea who it could be from. But why did he give you a skull? You placed the skull on the ledge of your fireplace and looked at it. It made you tremble as you remembered how those teeth wanted to dig into your flesh.

It didn't stop with the skull. Every day… really every day, there was something on your doorstep. Skulls, whole animals that you could skin and jewelry made of bones and beautiful stones. You now had a whole ration of game meat and you barely had any room left in the freezer. You displayed the skulls on your fireplace. Wolves, foxes, birds, it was all there. There was even a cougar skull by the door, but there was one thing you liked best from the unusual gifts.

It was a necklace made of predator teeth with a beautiful red gemstone in the middle. You wondered where he had found it. There must have been gemstones out there somewhere, but it must have taken a lot of effort to find one. But you asked yourself one question every single day. Why? Why did this giant give you gifts and bring you food? He had no reason to, or was it his way of saying 'thank you' because you had helped him?

Then you investigated, you grabbed your laptop and went looking. As silly as it sounded, you typed in 'what animals give each other gifts' and read through a post. There are indeed animal species that give each other gifts to impress the female: birds, fish and even insects did it. Apart from that, chimpanzees did something similar. For meat and fruit, the females slept with the males and you swallowed. Was he trying to impress himself? As if that at the river when he lifted the bear wasn't impressive enough.

Shaking your head, you closed your laptop. You didn't believe this alien wanted anything from you, if only because you were human. It was almost ridiculous. You laughed, apart from the fact that he was an alien? A big, strange creature that could kill you with ease.

There was something else on the floor of your porch that day that gave you pause. It was… Flowers. The most beautiful you'd ever seen. You sat by the river and looked intently at the small bouquet of wildflowers. No one had ever given you a gift like this before and you didn't want to admit it, but it made you happy somehow and sent a pleasant tingle through your body.

“You… find beautiful?” the deep, robotic voice made you freeze and you gulped. He was here, only maybe a meter away from your weak form sitting on the floor. Slowly, you turned your head and there he stood. As if he hadn't been almost dead in your house recently.

“j..yeah…they're really pretty,” you said almost shyly and a slight smile crept onto your lips. He nodded and continued to look at you through the small eyes in his mask.

“Thank you,” he clicked, apparently he had acknowledged it with that. You thought about asking him why he gave you the gifts, your heart pounded and you hesitated.

“Why are you giving me so many presents?” You nervously played with the stems of the flowers and waited for the answer. Inwardly, you hoped that he would simply say that he did it because you helped him. But it didn't turn out as you expected.

“Gifts… for… partners,” he grunts and your eyes widen. You felt like you were about to faint, your heart was beating against your chest and it almost hurt. At the same time, your cheeks burned and you blushed. He saw you as a suitable partner?

“Courting… you,” came out of his mouth next.

“I don't think I'm a suitable partner for you. I'm a human and you're an-” you thought about what you could say because you felt ‘alien’ would be rude.

“Yautja,” he finished your sentence and you raised your eyebrows.

“Your kind call themselves Yautja?” he nodded.

“What are you doing here? Are you just here to find a mate?” you followed up and he shook his head. Then he pointed at himself with a claw.

“Going hunting… Xenomorph. But I sensed… suitable partner is… here,” he tried to explain. You could hear how hard it was for him to speak in your language, considering his speech consisted only of clicking noises and growls.

“I see,” you laughed, ‘I don't even know your name,’ his head cocked to the side, watching your lips curl. The sound coming from your mouth was foreign to him, but he thought it sounded pleasant. No Yautja female made such beautiful sounds. His instincts had not been wrong.

“A'thaen,” he growled, ”my name…, A'thaen.”

“That's a really… nice name. My name is (Y/n),” you introduced yourself and then the Yautja went down on his knees. He was still huge in front of you, but now you could look at him a little better without having to contort your neck completely.

“My instincts… led me… here. To you,” then he moved his claws and took off his mask. You were surprised by this, because he seemed to take this mask for hunting and it seemed really important to him.

“Become… my… Partner. I am… good, experienced hunter. Can… protect and… Provide,” he almost cooed and it made you blush how he was trying to woo you. But you weren't sure, you couldn't speak his language, nor did you know anything about his culture.

“I'm not sure. I don't know you at all and a few days ago I thought you were going to kill me,” you swallowed and you expected A'thaen to get angry, but he nodded again.

“Ki'sei,” he said and you didn't understand what he had said. But you were amazed that he seemed to have a language with words after all, not just clicking sounds. He saw the look on your face and was amused. “I… I see,” he rumbled, and then you understood.

“Give me time,” you spoke, now standing up, ”let me… get to know you. get to know you,” your nervousness grew. What would you get yourself into here? You didn't know him and could you even love him? He was an alien, yes. But the fact that he had saved you and made the effort to give you gifts made you see him in a different light. Even his appearance didn't really bother you much, why should it. He wasn't ugly or scary just because you didn't know what he looked like. On his planet, he was perhaps one of the prettiest.

His bright eyes scrutinized you. Only now did you notice that his eyes weren't completely silver. They were green-gold on the inside and you had to admit to yourself that you found them pretty. You woke up from your stupor when his large, long-clawed claw took one of your strands of hair. Not daring to move, your eyes met his.

“Sei'i,” he nodded at you, then let go of your strand and stood up.

“Take all the time… You need. No…hurry,” he growled and you felt relieved. So now you had the chance to meet him, a large alien who was over two meters tall and could kill a bear with ease.

A'thaen even accompanied you home. You had offered him the chance to sleep in the house so that he wouldn't have to sleep outside in the bad weather. He gratefully accepted. The bad weather actually didn't bother him much, he still had his smaller spaceship to sleep in. But he was reluctant to refuse to let him into your house. He didn't know why his instincts had chosen you, you are small, weak and human. But this awakened his protective instinct and he felt a great need to look after you.

He felt his body reacting to you, to your scent. Especially when you were scared. He couldn't deny that it excited him the way you were scared, it was just in his nature. He was an elite hunter. One of the best of his tribe, if not the best. He has killed many xenomorphs, many different types of large predators. On Earth and also on many other planets. Even humans have not been spared. Once he started he couldn't stop, he was in a bloodlust and that made him a feared hunter; his experience, his strength and his temperament made him the deadliest Yautja of his tribe.

His heart was cold and he did not let emotions get to him, something the younglings learned very early on. Especially when they were being trained as hunters, but then you came along. A little human who most likely couldn't even give birth to successors and clouded his mind. Your weak body aroused him and awakened his instincts, but he had to restrain himself. You were no Yautja female who could be fucked easily. You were fragile and probably wouldn't even be able to take all of him.

He wanted you gentle, he wanted you to come to him willingly and ask him to make you his and breed you. But deep down, he really wanted to be gentle. He was known to be a killer, a monster. But he would not harm his future female, he would look after you and kill anyone who could harm you. He wanted to be an equal lover. In fact, he didn't think much of the mating behavior that many Yautja had. Many females of his species mated with several males. It was neither about love nor about the shared feeling of being one. They simply wanted to reproduce, to satisfy their urges. But it annoyed him, he longed for something different, something gentle and long. For you. He only wanted you.

You thought about where he could sleep best. He was so big. Too big for the bed, too big for the couch. Your brain was working, then you thought of something. Since you were a frostbite, you still had some blankets in the wardrobe, which you fetched as quickly as possible. With great effort, you built him a bed right in front of the fireplace. Two mattresses and five blankets should be enough. A'thaen watched you with amusement and attention at the same time. No one had ever made a bed for him before and he admired how much effort you had put into it. His gaze fell on the fireplace and pride grew in his chest when he saw the gifts he had given you. You had kept all the skulls and the necklace was there too and he purred. He really liked it.

“How are your wounds,” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned to you. His head tilted slightly.

“Better… Wounds heal… Faster…, with Yautjas,” he explained and you nodded. His mandibles twitched and he could sense that you were nervous. He wondered why.

“May I see them?” you asked and A'thaen nodded, then began to undress. You blushed and the hunter in front of you could smell it, he could even hear your heartbeat and it made his ego grow. He liked the way you reacted, the way your body responded.

He took off his armor. Shoulder plates, arm guards, breastplate, knee armor and his stocking nets he took off, he also put down the plates on his loincloth. His wounds had healed completely, only pale patches were still visible and you were amazed. And now you could see him in his full glory.

His skin was matt black, only the skin on his chest, inner arms, thighs and palms was a few shades lighter. On his back you could see wild patterns and his skull plate was decorated with an ornament-like pattern. He had thick thighs and his upper arms also showed the pure strength that was in him. He had a thick mane of dreadlocks and you admired the beautiful blood-red beads that caught your eye the first time you saw him. They suited him. But what fascinated you the most were his eyes. You had never seen eyes like his before. They were like liquid silver and in the middle was this green-gold color that made him truly unique.

“Do you… still like what… you see?” he asked, croaking, his mandibles twitching. You shook your head in amusement.

“You have a really big ego, A'thaen,” and you had to chuckle. His mandibles twitched again as he heard the strange sound from you again. Hoomans called it 'laughter' or 'giggling'. Yautjas didn't have that, but he really liked hearing it from you.

Then he grabbed the tense bicep he'd lifted earlier with his one claw and pressed against the hard flesh.

“That… is big,” he growled and you rolled your eyes. What a show-off. But you couldn't ignore the way his taut biceps had an effect on you. His eyes flashed with pleasure as he could smell your scent changing again. You didn't want to admit that you liked him, but your body couldn't deny it.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked him now and he nodded immediately.

“Sei'i!”

You blushed, he hadn't even hesitated, you had. You had not yet admitted that you liked him, that he somehow managed to impress you, that his muscles were not foreign to you and his strength impressed you.

“A'ket'anu,” A'thaen chirped and you could have sworn his gaze turned affectionate. But alas, you didn't understand what he said.

“I think you need to teach me your language,” you grin sheepishly and with a chirp he agreed with you.

“Fine,” he growls, ”A'ket'anu… means… beautiful. Just like… You,” now you could swear your face was as red as a tomato. How could someone who looked so terrifying say such things?

“Will… teach you… Teach you,” he nodded. And he did. The next day, he had tried to teach you the basic words so that you could understand him better. It was difficult for you to emphasize the accents correctly, but the Yautja had a lot of patience. You spent a good two weeks learning.

“Not… bad,” he grunts, nodding at you appreciatively. You felt the pride in your chest and smiled.

“Why can you speak my language?” you asked curiously, setting down a cup of tea for the Yautja, who eyed it curiously.

“Been… often…on Planet. Earth. Have… quickly… learned,” he explained, tasting the flavored hot water. It was strange, but not bad.

“How old are you?” you asked next, wondering how old Yautjas could get.

“Three hundred years,” A'thaen replied and your mouth dropped open. Three hundred… Years? He didn't look old, if you could interpret it. He was strong, agile and well-built and apparently three hundred years was like young adulthood in Yautjas.

“That's really… old?” it sounded more like a question than a statement and A'thaen almost seemed offended, shaking her head.

“Three hundred very young… about the age… of a human… Between… twenty-three and twenty-seven. Approximately,” he explained and you nodded, not wanting to offend him, but three hundred years is a lot. He had told you more. About Yautja Prime, his life and the Xenomorph. You had to swallow, because they were the other big predators here on the planet and there had been some near you. It made you feel quite different to think that the strange and deadly creatures might have seen you a long time ago and it wouldn't have been long before they would have struck.

A'thaen noticed your discomfort and placed a heavy claw on your shoulder comfortingly, even though he didn't say anything. You could feel that he wanted to reassure you and you looked at him gratefully. But then he did something that made you tense every muscle. His claw began to stroke your collarbone. It was so big that it covered part of your breasts and it was an intoxicating sight. He was so big. You had never seen anything bigger.

Carefully he slid further and let his hand rest on your hips. He had rough hands, but it was pleasant the way he touched you and you had the dull feeling that on his home planet things weren't always really gentle when it came to such things. But it was the same here.

His thumb claw gently stroked the fat of your belly and he admired it, you were so soft. Your skin was smooth and not leathery and he began to purr. He could break through your skin so easily, a little more force and he would see a drop of blood ooze from the stitch. But he didn't, of course. His other hand grabbed your leg and he stood between your legs. You were imprisoned by the power he was using for good, now kneading the flesh of your thigh. You sighed blissfully and realized how much it fascinated him too. Logically, you were so different from him.

He continued kneading and again you sighed contentedly, he clicked. A'thaen absorbed every bit of information his touch triggered in him and your pleasurable sounds made him hard. He could feel his blood flowing into his cock and he was getting hard, but it wasn't the right time yet. He wanted you to trust him completely and want it too. Now he took his claw and traced from your navel up to your breasts, you whimpered at the touch and the way he lifted your breasts as his hand ran against them.

You weren't wearing a bra and the Predator's eyes could see your bursting nipples. They were already pebbly and a growl escaped his throat as he could now detect your scent. The tip of his thumb slid over your standing nipple and you closed your eyes, your brows crinkling. You had been trying to concentrate, to not let yourself get foggy. He hadn't even been here long and already you were letting an alien touch you and make you wet.

A'thaen became bolder and took your right breast completely in his large claw. The rough skin of his hand pads made you shiver and you felt so very sensitive. Of course, you were already familiar with sex, even though you had almost no male visitors out here. But you knew how to help yourself and now this was this huge alien who thought he could make you so wet with a single touch.

“A'thaen,” you sighed and your eyes looked at him pleadingly from under your lashes, but he didn't continue. His silver-green eyes just stared at you. You could hear him suck in the air and you could feel him tense up, but then he let go of you. Just like that, you looked at him, confused.

He couldn't make you his yet. A'thaen knew his tail would be far too big for you, at least at first, and it would take good preparation, even if you wanted something else. He needed to distract himself before he did something wrong, he didn't want to hurt you or do anything rash, so he went out of your house, hunting. You were still lying on the kitchen counter where you had sat before your little game, half confused and agitated.

With dizzy legs, you got up and looked after the Yautja as he quickly disappeared into the forest. Damn, he couldn't just abandon you like that, yet you were understanding and let him go.

A'thaen growled and the next moment he slammed his claws into a tree and ripped them out again. The wood splintered and left huge gouges. He had to distract himself, but the soft skin of you had burned into him and was driving him mad. He had been so close to making you his, breeding you and making you beg for more. He could have taken what he wanted with ease, but he didn't want you like that. Somehow he did want it, but he also wanted you to want him, because you also… loved him.

That word was so foreign, but also so close. Love… . Yautjas usually didn't know love, at least it was rare and they certainly didn't have love for another species. There were always exceptions and he had heard of some of his kind taking human females as mates.

But you were the one and he was about to go too far, but he could smell you wanting him and he could feel his cock getting hard again at the thought. He had checked out the surroundings through his mask. He would go hunting.

You were a little surprised when you saw the buck lying on your porch. At the same time, you were pleased. He was still here. A'thaen had not shown his face for seven days now and you had missed him, yet he had continued to give you gifts and you were very grateful for that.

On the eighth day, you used the time to cook. You cooked a stew from the venison and you could smell it all the way outside. You were so distracted that you didn't notice an invisible figure sneaking up behind you and placing large claws on your hips. You cried out and quickly turned around with a knife in your hand. But the blade was gripped by a claw and you widened your eyes.

“A'thaen!!! What the hell is this?” you sneered at him and he glared at you in amusement. Then you noticed the blade in his claw and green blood dripped along the metal. Your eyes immediately went wide in shock.

“Oh no! I'm so sorry… I-” he interrupted you.

“It's all right… I've… Worse,” he put the knife down and his eyes stared at the cut in his hand and the small hands of you holding it. So small and fragile. He didn't notice the cheeky gleam in his eyes as you thought of something.

“I know a good spot in the forest where you could go hunting,” you breathed and now his eyes were on your face, patterning you.

“About two kilometers from here, by a river. There are hot springs there too,” you almost whispered the last part, but he heard it anyway. You wanted your revenge and you were going to get it. You couldn't get his touch out of your mind and it had scared you how much you had reacted to him. But you didn't realize it was because of his pheromones, which were part of what made you want him. This effect was particularly noticeable with potential partners. It happened all by itself.

"I don't know this… place," he admitted and seemed to be pondering. Normally he chose his hunting spots himself, but he became curious. He was always up for new hunting grounds. He swung his head in your direction when he felt your hand on his forearm.

"You haven't seen each other for a long time. I-I missed you," you confessed to him and A'thaen's eyes widened briefly. You had missed him? Even though he had just left you standing there. His heart sank at that statement. He cooed and his large hand gently stroked your cheek.

"I missed… you too," he purred and a slight smile graced your face. You could feel your heart stopping and maybe you just had to admit to yourself that you found this alien attractive. You didn't feel weird about it, you found it exciting and you had nothing to lose.

"Would you like something to eat?" you asked him in his language and he seemed surprised. Had you continued to study diligently? Brave Hooman. He only now felt the hole in his stomach and nodded slightly. You gave him some of your stew and he gulped it down greedily without leaving a drop. You laughed. What a greedy mouth, but you couldn't help but notice the sauce running down his chin and you licked your lips. He noticed your look but said nothing. He just stored it away.

A'thaen walked through the forest, he wanted to go to the place you had suggested. He wanted to visit you this morning, but you weren't there. Since you were an independent being, he hadn't thought about it at first. Maybe you were getting things for Hooman. He paused when he noticed a scent, his mask scanned the area, but he found nothing at first. His mandibles clicked in surprise and he continued on.

But then he noticed something. As if from nowhere, a deer jumped out of a bush, with a quick movement he grabbed it easily before it could jump away. The animal's squealing made his instinct scream and with a skilled grip he ripped out the animal's vertebrae. The carcass hung limply in his claws, but he wasn't finished yet. He carefully cut open the chest and removed the heart, took off his mask and the hunger for blood permeated his veins as he bit into the bloody muscle and devoured it.

He noticed how he was slowly losing control and wanted more. With quick steps he pushed through the undergrowth, further and further and there he was again. That smell…, your smell. An electric shock shot through his body and he became suspicious, what were you doing out here in the forest? Had something happened to you?

When he pushed some of the bushes out of the way, he froze. There were some hot springs in front of him, there were several natural pools of different sizes and you were sitting in one of them, with your eyes closed.

"You were here pretty quickly," you grinned and opened your eyes. The sight of him was simply divine. The poor Yautja really had no idea what this was all about. Then a light went on in his head.

"You lured me here," he said in Yautja language and you grinned cheekily at him.

"Yes. As punishment for leaving me behind that one day, you have to watch me bathe now," you laughed and got up from the water. A'thaen's eyes became greedy when he saw your wet, smooth body. He could feel his tail twitching at you and a growl coming from his throat.

"Don't you dare tease me, Hooman," he growled and started to get dangerously close to you. He was really close to not being able to control himself anymore. You accepted the challenge and started to knead your breasts, which immediately made him growl loudly. You sighed and pinched one of your nipples between your fingers.

"I didn't think it was very nice that you touched me like that and then just left," you said, panting and feeling yourself getting wet. A'thaen was now dangerously close to you, he started to take off his armor and his loincloth was thrown to the side as well. Your eyes widened when you could see his thick length. But the sight of it emerging from his sheath, swollen and hard, also excited you.

Suddenly you were grabbed, a wave hit your thighs and stomach and you gasped as the Yautja pulled you towards him. His look was murderous and greedy.

"I wanted to mate with you when you were ready. If you loved me. Yautja almost always take what they want, but I didn't want to force you to be mine," he growled and you had to make an effort to understand him. But you did and now you understood what his problem was. He wanted your consent and it made your heart swell.

"Do you love me?" you asked him and his grip tightened so much that it almost hurt.

"Yes! I love you, ever since the first day I sat in my ship and felt you. When I felt that you were my partner and you don't know how much I hold back from taking you right here and filling you with all my seed that has been building up inside me for so long," his honest words impressed and excited you at the same time and your mouth was open. His silver eyes burned into yours and you were so ready to let him join you.

Your hand ran along his jaw and his eyelids drooped. He purred at your touch and his cock pressed against your stomach. Your hands continued to explore him, running over his toned chest, over his chiseled abs and to his powerful hips. You imagined how they would feel between your legs and you subconsciously bit your lip.

A'thaen had no patience left, he grabbed your hips and fell backwards. You clung to his shoulders and squealed as the water swayed against you. You were now sitting on his lap, in the middle of the hot springs and you weren't even sure if it was your own heat or the steaming springs.

"You… start," the Yautja growls, looking at you lovingly and lustfully at the same time.

"Don't want to… hurt you," he moans as you take his swollen cock in your hand. It was really thick and big, which didn't surprise you, but it also put you off a bit. Could you even take it?

You carefully placed yourself over him, you could feel how swollen you were and how much you wanted him now, so you gently lowered yourself onto him. A growl came from his chest as he could feel his glans slowly entering you and stretching you. Your mouth was open, it felt good, despite the fact that it burned slightly.

You moaned as you sank deeper, your head slightly back and your eyes closed. A'thaen could see the strong pulse in your neck and it drove him wild. How he wished he could be on top to take care of you and give you your satisfaction, but you knew you had to get used to his size first so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

He was almost completely inside you and you had never been as full as you were today. You didn't regret an inch of him being inside you. You could feel him slowly approaching your cervix and it made you pause for a moment, but suddenly he rocked his hips up and you moaned as a strange but familiar feeling ran through your body.

You hadn't had sex in a long time and having something like this now overstimulated your senses to the limit. You moved your hips forward and the delicious feeling gave you goosebumps. Your fingers dug into his forearms while he still held you tightly by the hips and you took full advantage of the fact that you were in charge.

Even though you could feel him bucking beneath you and throwing his head back. The water had long since mixed with the blood of his victims and you didn't care that it stuck to your palms, it just gave you a forbidden and disgusting kick.

"A'thaen," you gasped lustfully and moved faster. He growled and forced you to move even faster. Your mouth fell open again, it was so much, he was so much. His mandibles were wide open and came dangerously close to your face, but it didn't matter. You knew he wouldn't hurt you and you were too caught up in your intoxication.

You gasped and a scream escaped your lungs as his fangs dug into your shoulder and left his mark on you.

Your clitoris rubbed against his lower abdomen, making you even wetter. You rubbed yourself against him like an animal and felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You forgot the world around you as everything contracted and you didn't care much as your fingernails dug into his scaly skin and you moaned loudly as your orgasm flooded you with happiness hormones. A'thaen did the same. His claws pecked you as he came inside you, growling and snorting deeply.

You clung to his neck and tried to calm your rapid heartbeat. A'thaen's heartbeat was also uncontrollable and it was still twitching inside you. Sweat ran down your face and you just realized what you, you, had done. You were now tied to him. The four red dots on your shoulder made it pretty clear.

Gently but firmly, A'thaen grabbed your neck and forced you to look at him.

"You belong to me now," he growled and you just nodded and moaned as you felt his cock getting hard again inside you. He would now show you every day who you belonged to and you didn't mind. You were excited about the future with your companion.

Part 2 ?

[arabellasleopardcoat]

To Conquer (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.

Warnings: Mentions of sex. Cursing. Arranged marriage. Periods. Daddy issues. Religious guilt. One death aside from canon ones (Daemon murders a man)

A/N: In which I rewrite the scene of my first encounter with incest in a book. If you get it, you get it.

YOU NEVER dared call Alicent mother out loud. But in your mind, she was.

The woman who had birthed you had passed away the same day you had been born. Out of her womb you had been pulled, alongside your twin. He had not survived the day.

Queen Aemma Arryn was a mere name to you, a woman who existed in paintings and shadows, a ghost that lurked on the Red Keep. Your father never once spoke of her too you, too consumed by guilt and grief. In fact, he did his best to never speak to you at all.

You were an uncomfortable reminder of the crime he had committed. Robbing a woman of life so a man may live. It hadn’t even worked in the end. Your brother had faded from this world, nothing of him remaining.

Against all odds, you had. You had clung to life, the Maesters would later say. Fought tooth and nail to stay in this world. And somehow, it hadn’t been enough. Your father avoided you like the plague, but Alicent, guilty, scared, lonely Alicent, did not. She was all you had.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Despite your dramatic entrance to the world, and your eventful first few months of life, your life had turned out to be quite lackluster. There were no exciting adventures or claiming of dragons, much less a moniker attached to your name like there was to Rhaenyra or Daemon. You wondered why this, out of all things, had to be different.

The robes looked graceful enough on you, you supposed. Your father had called you a true Valyrian beauty, the very image of your mother. You knew it wasn’t true. King Viserys didn’t remember her. How could he, if he had done his best attempts to erase her? He had replaced her at once, and he never once spoke of her again. At least, not with you.

His presence in your life could be defined with one word: Absence. But he had thought it fair to reappear when he needs you to do something for him. The least he could have done would have been asking for your input about the wedding.

If you had been asked, you would have chosen a traditional wedding ceremony, with a Septon and a hand fasting. You would have worn a Targaryen cloak… To be exchanged for another Targaryen cloak. No. Perhaps it had been for the best, not to desecrate such a beautiful ritual with this nonsense.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of not being really married. You didn’t like it. And you liked the man who was waiting for you on the other side of the door much less.

“Are you done, niece?” The knock on the door forced you into action, once again. You reached into the basin, watching the cool water shift under your fingers. There was something about the cold that cleared your head, helped you think. You took a deep breath, and tried to focus.

Alicent had told you that you should obey him in all things. That you had to do your duty, just as she had done hers. But you had seen the fear in her eyes when you were getting ready for the ceremony, and how her hands had grasped at you desperately during the feast. It had taken Ser Otto’s intervention to make her let go of you.

Your bedtime stories had not prepared either of you for this. When you were a young girl, plagued by night terrors, she would sit at the foot of your bed and pretend to read your destiny.

“One day, you will fly to the moon wearing spiderwebs as wings.” She would squint at your hand, making a show of reading the lines there.

“Tell me more!” You would squeal, fears forgotten. Despite not being the motherly type, she would always indulge you. Perhaps, because she saw herself in you. Another little girl, her mother dead, her father defined by his lack of presence.

“It says here…” Alicent would tickle your palm. “That you will grow up into a beautiful, beautiful princess who will marry a handsome lord. He will love you very much.”

Out of all the lies you had been told, it was your favorite. Each night, you would ask to hear it again and again, and think, tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I will be all grown, and the lady of a great castle. My father will love me then.

It had been a consolation you had clung on through all your childhood. You were a princess, worthy of being appreciated by your future husband. He would love you, you knew. You would build something together, something only yours. You would raise your children to be better than you, following Alicent’s example. You would be happy.

You had never realized how much she had clung to that thought too. Her frustrated dreams for herself had been turned into hope for your future. Alicent had spoken them into the night like an enchantment, as if she could bring them to life by repeating the words over and over. So you could have what she hadn’t had. Like all parents wished.

What both of you had imagined wasn't this. You wanted to scream from rage.

“Just a bit more.” You said, your resolve hardening. The faith of the Seven dictated that laying with a relative was a sin, the same for laying with a man who was not your husband. They barely recognized Valyrian wedding ceremonies.

Had you really married him? Your High Valyrian was sloppy. Your mother had not taught you much, and your lessons had often been interrupted because of Aegon. Out of all your siblings, Aemond had been the most proficient one. He had not been present at the ceremony, being judged too young to attend.

It had been your parents, Daemon, Aegon. An intimate ceremony, just as they liked. Could your father betray you so? Give you away as a whore to appease his brother?

You opened the table’s drawers. Daemon’s bathing room was unfamiliar to you, but he must have used something to shave and you would find it. You riffled through various oils and soaps before finding the blade you were seeking.

With your non-dominant hand, you bunched the robes up. Bracing yourself, you used your other hand to slit your upper thigh. At first, you didn’t draw blood, despite feeling the sting of the blade. Your grip was too shaky. But your determination didn’t waver. Your father had asked too much of you already, there was no power in the world that could force you to share your Uncle’s bed.

Your second attempt was much more successful. Despite having tensed the muscles of your thigh anticipating pain, it didn’t hurt as much as you expected. Blood rushed out. You grabbed a rag and rubbed it on it. You examined it, coldly. No matter how Valyrian, you bled red, like any Andal.

You schooled yourself into faux embarrassment before you spoke.

“Could you… Husband…. Could you fetch my mother?”

Despite your calculations, you make the mistake regardless. The noun slips from your tongue, unprompted. A slip. The first of many to come. The temperature dropped in the room, Daemon’s anger a near palpable thing.

“Your mother is dead, niece.” He stressed the last word in a way you didn’t like. Despite the door separating the two of you, you could tell his mood had shifted from bad to something much worse. You feared what he might do to you, were you to backtrack in your plan. “Whatever Alicent has been teaching you, you should know you are not hers.”

“Queen Alicent.” You corrected, annoyed. How did he dare criticize the way she had raised you, when there had been literally no one else around up to the task. How did he dare speak down to you, as if you were a simpleton? You fought to keep your tone steady and stomped on the anger bubbling up. “I have… lady troubles.”

“Lady troubles?” Daemon asked, sounding puzzled.

You pondered the merits of skirting around the issue. You weren’t in the mood to enter a euphemism’s discussion, and so, decided to be more graphic.

The bloody rag was held gently between your fingers when you opened the door. No more words were needed. Daemon cursed and went to get your mother.

HE DOESN’T dare ask at first. Daemon understands that women’s bodies work different from his own. He has never bedded one in her moonblood, and doesn’t intend to start with you.

Despite your beauty, Daemon felt oddly disappointed. He had hoped, with you being fully Rhaenyra’s sister and not half, like his younger nephews, that you would be similar to her.

You weren’t. You lacked her fierceness and the respect for your heritage. The only thing Valyrian about you was your looks. You didn’t even have a dragon of your own, and were so damn timid, he might confuse you with a mouse rather than a Princess.

Because of that same reason, he let you be during your moonblood. While Daemon didn’t object to some blood, he doubted you would be the same. Bedding unwilling maidens wasn’t his thing. He preferred his girls willing, be it from the promise of coin or delirious from their own lust.

Somehow, he was getting the feeling you weren’t going to be the second type anytime soon. Every time he attempted to kiss you, you squirmed away, as if he were initiating something sinful and not simply trying to kiss his wife.

“Seven Hells, would it kill you to remain still?” He asked as you nervously avoided his grip on your waist. “I am not trying to initiate anything. I know you are still on your courses. Stand still. I command it.”

“I… I…” You had looked at him, all hesitant eyes. Alicent had done scarcely any things right when raising you, but at least she had instilled you obedience. But blood couldn’t be denied, and every so often your Valyrian nature reared its head. Mostly, playing against Daemon rather than in his favor. Little dragon that you were, you weren’t keen on following orders.

Ah, but bring you a Septa. Then you were jumping out of your seat to offer the damn woman your chair and observing her earnestly for non-verbal cues, tending to her every need like a commoner. Ridiculous.

“The Mother obeys the Father, from what I understand.” Daemon kept his tone matter of fact. He wasn’t certain that the Seven Pointed Star said that, but it sounded right, and it suited him, so he spoke the words with as much conviction as he could muster. In truth, Daemon had never opened the damn book in his life. A waste of time. The Septons he knew were a bunch of cunts and their followers weren’t any better.

“Maidens are supposed to be demure.” You protested. “Not indulge on indecent displays.”

“You are not meant to be a maiden any longer.” He grabbed you by the waist regardless, coaxing you to stroll next to him. “And wives obey their husbands.”

While you remained unconvinced, you allowed him to lead you around the Red Keep’s gardens. He kept a constant stream of chatter, using all his best lines, but you answered in monosyllables. Not only did Daemon wish to cultivate a better relationship with you, but he also wanted to flaunt his new bride. It was only fair that the other cunts here got a look at Targaryen superiority. Kept them from being too uppity.

Like everything else in this marriage, though, that too proved elusive. Soon, whispers began to circulate about his virility. One of your maids had a loose tongue, it seemed. The whole castle was snickering about it not even a week later. You, like usual, were oblivious.

In a fit of anger Daemon would later not be proud of, he got all the little chits whipped. But their attitudes about your moonblood made him begin to suspect something was amiss. A fortnight of bleeding seemed… Strange. While he was never particularly interested in women’s bodies beyond fucking them, something had to be wrong. An inquiry with the Maester proved him right. Apparently, over a week was unusual, a fortnight near impossible.

That night, he sat on the foot of your shared bed, watching you fret around the room. Daemon had asked for shared chambers, thinking it would bring the two of you closer. With his constant exiles and marriages, and the fact that Alicent had coddled you during your whole existence, you were a stranger with a familiar face. He had hoped to entice you by appealing to your curiosity about marital duties. Safe to say, it didn’t work.

You had put up barriers. Both metaphorical and physical ones. Right now, you were at it again. Laying down a towel on your side of the bed and a pillow in the middle of it. As he watched you, he found himself struck by the beauty of your hands. They were firm and precise in their movements, fixing down the towel and then neatly delimiting your side of the bed with the pillow.

You were wearing the most hideous nightshirt know to man, more adequate for a Septa than a newlywed. Slightly bent over, fluffing up your pillows, Daemon noticed that it was as white as fresh snow. Now that he thought of it, all your shifts were. And yet, none of them had ever been stained. Nor had the towel you placed on the bed and loudly proclaimed it was to avoid leakages. An effort to make yourself more unappealing, perhaps?

Somehow, the realization didn’t anger him. Instead, it made him more curious. Was this your way of rebelling? Were you scared? What went on behind your eyes, inside that skull of yours?

“Wife.” Daemon finally spoke, when you were starting to kneel for your nightly prayers. You paused, kneeling gracefully. You looked up at him, all curious eyes and nervous smile. “Have your courses always been this long?”

This time, he watches your reaction closely. During these past days, Daemon has not pressured you about it. But now, he waits on bated breath.

Your eyes widen. The hands you have clasped in prayer get even tighter pressed together.

“Oh, you shouldn’t… These are womanly concerns.” You are a terrible liar. He would laugh, were it not such a cruel thing to do when in the face of a little fool.

“I insist.” Daemon arches an eyebrow at you. You squirm on your knees like there are ants on your shift. You are visibly distraught. Does it pain you, pious girl that you are, to be committing a sin?

“Yes, they are.”

Another lie. He had asked some of the fools in Viserys’ employment. Yours didn’t last more than a week. But Daemon finds all the twitching you are doing entertaining, and so, decides to give you more rope to hang yourself.

“And yet, your father promised that you were fertile.” He drawls, cruel amusement almost leaking into his tone. He can’t help the way his lips twitch. This is too entertaining. It’s like toying with a mouse before eating it.

“I… I am.” You weakly defend yourself. Your face is looking more distressed by the second. And is that..? Oh, wonderful, you are starting to sweat a little.

“No, you are not. You are either lying about that, or about your moonblood.”

“I am not!” You protest, finally getting up from your kneeling position. A shame. You looked positively delicious in your predicament.

“Yes, you are! But I am giving you a chance to tell me the truth. Which one are you lying about?”

“I am not.” You look about to flee the room, so Daemon gets up and places himself on your path. You flinch a bit, but stubbornly refuse to admit the truth. His amusement at your attitude is starting to turn sour. Not only it is unflattering that you are making up excuses to avoid bedding him, but they are so stupid half the court is laughing at him behind his back about it. And you, absolute fool, can’t admit it.

“Wrong answer, niece.” He steps closer, trying to intimidate you. “I know the truth.”

“You do?” You startle. You take a step back, nearly tripping on the hem of that ugly nightgown. Daemon reaches to steady you, his grip on your arms punishingly. You twitch, as if sensing that you are caught in the maws of a hungry beast that could pounce at any moment.

“You are not on your moonblood. You can't be every single day of the moon!” He shakes you a little, making you yelp. But then, the most astounding thing happens. Because instead of going very still, as the frightened bird that you are, you shove him hard.

“What would you know!” You scream at him, pointing one finger at his face. Daemon wishes to say he is unbothered by your hysterics, but instead, he grabs your accusing hand and tugs it. The delicate bones shift inside his hand, threatening to snap, and you're left with no choice but go towards him or break your finger.

Wisely, you choose the second. You are breathing hard, and looking up at him in righteous indignation.

“Brute!”

“I asked your maids.” Daemon smirks at you, something ugly appearing on his face. In truth, whatever you see spooks you because you deflate a little. “So? Shall you tell me the truth? Or must I find it myself?”

He makes it as if to lift your shift. You bat his hand away, hard. Interesting enough, you harden then.

“What else is there to know? Beyond that I am not on my moonblood?”

“We can start with why you lied. Or why you don’t wish to lay with me.” Daemon suggests, gripping you tightly so you cannot escape. He brings his face closer to yours.

Your eyes are wide. Your face is frozen into a terrified expression, like you are realizing all your lies are catching up to you.

“I didn’t want you to force me.” You say, voice barely a whisper. Who do you think he is? Some sort of monster? Your depraved half brother, perhaps? Daemon had already heard the exploits that one was up to. Jerking off in a window, of all things.

“Force you! If I wanted to force you, I could already have.” Daemon rolls his eyes. You were not trained in any sort of combat, and you were the kind who had her head in the clouds more often than not. You were not a match for him. If Daemon wanted to force you, he just had to pin you down or pull out Dark Sister.

You stay quiet, perhaps coming to the same realization. You have gone to bed next to him for nearly two weeks, only in thin shifts. Every day, you have woken up untouched. Doubt starts to cloud up your face, as if you are noticing how vulnerable you truly have been and how well Daemon has behaved.

As if he were going to be deterred by a little blood. He was a true Targaryen. It was in his house’s words. Plenty of maidens bled when being split open on his cock. Your moonblood would not be very different.

Daemon decides to appeal to your more… Hightower side. Perhaps that would get you to yield to him. He uses his more Otto-like tone, trying to sound as cunty as possible.

“It’s your duty.”

You shake your head, frantically.

“We can’t. It's not right. You are my uncle.”

Your words are spoken with such conviction, he has to fight the urge to scream. That was your problem? You? A daughter of the house of the dragon, complaining about incest?

“It is not unprecedented. Our whole line begins because Aegon the conqueror had his sister wives. And then, Maegor married his niece, too.” Daemon’s words are sharp. He lets go of you and starts to pace the room. Good Gods, what had Alicent done to you? Had she twisted your mind so, you now thought marrying him was wrong because you were related?

“And their marriage was cursed. No child was born out of their union.” You reply, with an ugly smile. He wants to slap it out of your little face. Smug little girl, thinking she knows everything about the world.

“Jaehaerys married his sister, the Good Queen Alyssane. They had plenty of children.” He insists, trying to get you to notice the flaws in your argument. Everyone knew that the only way to preserve the Valyrian bloodline was by marrying other Valyrians. Otherwise, the magic in their blood would dilute, and they would no longer be able to claim dragons. It was common sense.

“All of them turned out very… queer.”

“My parents..!” But you interrupt him before he can finish.

“Exceptionally queer, too.”

Daemon feels his face heating up. No one before has managed to infuriate him so. He wants to shake some sense into you. His hands itch for something to punish you with. Impudent little thing, daring to suggest his parents had been queer!

Queer! The queer one here was you! A Targaryen who opposed incest!

“Listen here, you awful little…”

“Stop that. Stop insulting me, by the Seven. You won’t change my mind.” You raise one of your hands, in the universal halt sign. “I will never share your bed.”

At that, Daemon thinks actual steam must be coming out of his ears. Never. As if. You would change your mind, he knows it. No one can resist him for long. He is experienced, charming, and handsome. A prince and a true dragon. What more could anyone want?

He would make you regret your words. He would show you. Under all your repressed, Hightower ways, you were a dragon. Targaryen blood ran thick. Daemon would have you eating out of the palm of his hand before you could realize. Before, he hadn’t really been trying. But now? He was ready for war.

“Come here.” He orders. You stare at him, and do not move. “You will disobey me in this, too?”

You step closer, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I wish to make a deal.” Daemon says. You cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to bed me if you don’t want to. But you will have to give me something in exchange.”

“What?” You tap your foot against the floor, impatiently. Yet your face, as always, betrays you. His offer has made you lower your guard, interested in what he has to say. Probably because you are seeing a way out of this whole issue.

“I want you to let me be as affectionate as I wish with you.”

“Fine.” You snarl at him, trying to look fierce. But you are too new to this game of pretending for Daemon to not see through your mask. You are confused.

He steps closer. He gathers you into his arms, and hugs you.

At first, you tense. Your arms remain glued to your sides, body stiff in his arms. Daemon enjoys the feel of it regardless. You smell like innocence, sweet and young. Your body is soft and feminine, nothing like the hard muscles of his first wife. He allows himself to relax into you.

Eventually, your body sags a bit. You relax into the hug.

“I wish… I wish….” You start speaking, face hidden in his shoulder. Daemon doesn’t let go. His gut tells him that whatever you are going to say, it is important. “I wish I wasn’t ashamed. And that… In our wedding ceremony, I would have liked to know what was being said.”

Daemon’s heart aches. His poor little Hightower, denied of her birthright. And then, a giant grin spreads on his face. Here it was. The opportunity he needed.

“I will teach you.” Daemon whispers, against your hair. He kisses it. It’s a lovely thing, an icy blonde that doesn’t fit your warm personality. Now that you are not fighting him, he is starting to notice you are very sweet natured. “I promise.”

“You will?” You look up at him, wary. “And what will the price be?”

Daemon chuckles.

“No price.” He caresses the bridge of your nose, tracing your features. You seem bashful at the attention, and it is so adorable, he can’t help but kiss you.

You startle. All coltish, you nearly elbow him in your haste to move away.

“What are you doing? We said no bedding!”

“I know.” Daemon smiles at you, indulgently. Now is the time to tread carefully, less you spook, and he ends up losing all his progress. “I just want to kiss my wife. Affection, for the sake of it. Kissing doesn’t need to lead to anything.”

You nod. You don’t seem convinced. But he soon discovers your hesitance comes from something else.

“I have never kissed anyone.” You whisper, almost ashamed.

“Then let me teach you that too.” And he is leaning in, and capturing your mouth with his.

“I GOT you something.” Daemon suddenly says, one morning. You lift your gaze from your book, an historic account about the doom of old Valyria, and watch him with curious eyes.

Your husband is carrying a bundle of cloth on his arms. He is back from his usual shenanigans in the city. Betting and drinking, but no longer any whoring, he assures you. The Lord of Flea Bottom is no more, or so he says.

It is quite early. You have just broke your fast with your mother, after the two of you did your morning prayers together. It is a ritual you find great comfort in, despite Daemon doing his best to discourage you. He doesn’t like that you worship the Faith of the Seven.

He has grown slightly more tolerant of Alicent as time goes by. You cannot say the same for her. Despite the fact that Daemon treats you well, she still can’t seem to get over the fact that he is Daemon Targaryen, the same man who had terrorized her father, courted her best friend and possibly murdered his last wife.

The bundle of clothes moves in Daemon’s arms. You place your book down, and creep closer, wondering about its contents. It’s then that you hear it. A soft, quiet mewl.

A grin spreads across your face. You cross the distance between the two of you, and watch as a small paw reaches out from the cloth, flexing its tiny claws. It is covered in white fur, the cushions on the bottom of it a soft pink.

“A kitten!” You say, delighted. You take it from Daemon and cradle it against you. The kitten can’t be older than a few weeks. His eyes are already open, a cloudy gray that takes your breath away. It’s love at first sight. “Oh, husband, thank you!”

“I saw it when I was coming back this morning. Thought you would like the damn thing.” Daemon says, gruffly. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I will name him… Quicksilver!” You say, cheerily. It makes his lips twitch a bit, unable to hide his amusement. This week, Daemon has been helping you practice your High Valyrian by reading a more recent text, accounting the times of King Aerys.

The language practice has brought the two of you closer. You are no longer as resentful or scared of him as you once were. You spend nearly all your evenings with him, pouring over gigantic tomes written in the language of your ancestors. Daemon patiently corrects your pronunciation, teaching you the right way of rolling the vocals, and how to accentuate your consonants.

You would have never thought you would enjoy learning so much. He is a very compelling teacher, clearly passionate about the subject yet stern enough to make you do all your assignments before their due date. Daemon is patient and encouraging, willing to explain things to you over and over again until you understand them fully.

The kitten yawns, showing a row of tiny white teeth and a pink tongue. You coo.

“Tiny but fierce.” Daemon smirks. “The Seven preserve us all.”

“How pious.” You tease, and Daemon steps closer. He grabs your waist and pulls you in for a kiss, Quicksilver still in your arms.

Despite having kissed him many times before now, you feel as weak to his advances as you had felt the first time he had kissed you. Daemon kisses like he is conquering, nipping at your lower lip until you open for him, and taking complete ownership of your mouth. His hands grasp at your nape, holding you against him. There is no escape from his kisses, and it fills you with a thrill you had never expected to feel before. Daemon wants you. He desires you, as a man desires a woman. There is no headier feeling than that.

At first, you had thought he was lonely. Why else would he ask for affection, when he was able to ask for anything else from you? That night, when he had found out you had been lying to him, Daemon could have asked for anything, done anything to you. Not a man in the realm would have judged him for it.

His behavior after that only seemed to confirm it. When the two of you were in public, his hands would linger on you, as if fearing you would leave his side. When someone told a funny joke, his eyes would seek yours before laughing, making sure you were still there.

It was an urge you understood too well. Abandonment was something you had learned to fear as well. Your mother had left you unwillingly. Your father and sister had both been eager to wash their hands from you. You guessed Daemon’s life had been a bit like that, too. From what you had heard, his mother had passed when he was a child. Your father had grown tired of him. And your sister… Well. That had been his fault.

When you grew up like that, you clung to every kindness, to every slice of warmth you could get. It was no wonder Daemon clung to you as hard as he did. It was difficult to live like that, not knowing what kindness feels like, grasping desperately to any scraps of it until you can almost piece together what the real thing feels like.

Despite having all reasons not to, Daemon’s attention never turned suffocating. Perhaps, you too, were starved for affection. You had gone your whole life with no positive male attention, being overshadowed by your sister and forced into almost a Septa-like life by your mother. His touches were never beyond the proper attention a man would show his wife in public. It felt almost… fatherly.

As a child, your father had never sat with you, or listened to anything you said. Daemon, instead, seemed to pay close attention to everything you did or told him. He sat for hours with you, pouring over myths and historical accounts, correcting your pronunciation of High Valyrian, teaching you the meaning behind old rituals.

It was as if a door had been opened for you. One you could use to glimpse inside his mind, and your father’s and even Rhaenyra’s. You understood now much more about how they behaved, and why they did. You didn’t necessarily agree, but you understood.

Some confusing feelings had begun to arise with all this new information stuffed into your head. You liked Daemon’s attention. He was charming, and it made you feel good about yourself, being able to keep someone as worldly and cultured as him interested in you. It made you wish, sometimes, to have been his daughter instead of King Viserys’. But at the same time, the way you felt and the things you did with him weren’t the kind of things you imagined daughters feeling for their parents.

When Daemon kissed you, as he did now, you felt your stomach swoop. His skilled mouth made your skin tingle, and all your hairs stand up on edge. It made you feel ashamed of yourself. You weren’t supposed to feel such things for your uncle. No matter how Valyrian, it was just not right.

What made you feel even more ashamed was the fact that sometimes, when he kissed you for too long, the place between your legs would get slick with arousal. You wanted him too, you realized, with the utmost horror. You wanted him like a woman desires a man. A wife desires her husband.

It is then the game starts. Daemon kisses you, and you kiss back, eagerly exploring his mouth and learning how to play his game. You make out with him for what feels like hours, until you feel drunk from his kisses and become as pliant and soft as clay being molded in his hands. It is then that you let him touch you a bit more, push the boundaries your previous truce has set. His hands grasp at your hips, his lips mouth at your neck. And when the edge of your shift starts to ride up, or his lips trail too close to the neckline of it, you jolt out of your stupor.

Shame licks at your spine, grabs tightly at the back of your head. Makes you stiffen under him, body set into a hard line. How can you be so wanton? Why do you behave in such whorish ways? You struggle then, overcome by the embarrassment you feel at your own behavior.

Daemon tries to subdue you. Sometimes, you fold, other times you spend the night tossing and turning on the bed, trying to get the upper hand. Sometimes, he wins, and pins you down on the mattress. But instead of forcing you, he kisses you again and the game begins anew.

You spend the nights like this. Kissing and struggling with anxious violence, until it has begun to replace the act of love. You can tell Daemon enjoys your struggles, the feel of your buttocks against his clothed crotch. You can feel the weight of him against your hip, burning hot and hard.

Eventually, he tires and heads out. You don’t know if he pleasures himself then, or if he just ignores his arousal until it goes away. You prefer the second when it comes to yourself. For hours, you stare at the ceiling, willing the heat in your blood to go away. Sleeps evades you, yet when it does not, it feels even more torturous. You dream of him, of the act, conjuring lewd positions and thoughts, until morning comes, and you feel like you have not slept at all.

This precarious balance could never last. You are not good at the court’s games, having been a wallflower most of your life. You are a stranger to waging tongues, and malicious comments, but Daemon is not. He is doomed to always be the center of attention, this husband of yours.

Someone notices that almost three moons after marriage, you are still a maiden And someone remembers Daemon’s lack of children with his first wife. One plus one makes two.

He comes to find you in the Royal Sept, as you are lighting candles with your mother. He grabs you briskly by the arm and drags you away, the match still alight between your fingers.

“Have you heard?” Daemon asks, breathless. It is clear that he has rushed to you. “What they are saying about me?”

You shake your head.

“How would I?” You are, after all, as isolated as you were before the wedding. Your only companions are Quicksilver, Daemon, your mother, and your siblings. And Aegon is at that terrible age, where he behaves like a little deviant. The others are too young to provide true companionship, Helaena stuck on her imaginary worlds and Aemond not quite a boy, not yet a man.

“They say I am impotent. That your womb has not quickened because I have not taken you. Because I am unable to.” The crude words Daemon speaks make your eyes widen. You have grown protected from the nastier side of court life, forgotten as you were. You cannot believe how someone would dare comment on a married couple’s bedroom activities, which are meant to be one of the more sacred things to happen between man and wife according to the Seven. Much less, how someone would dare to utter such poisonous slander.

“We know it’s not the truth.” You place your hand on his arm, trying to soothe his wounded pride. Daemon is, above all, impulsive. You fear he is about to do something rash, even if you do not imagine yet what.

Isn’t it enough that the two of you know the courtiers are in the wrong? You have felt the press of his member, hard against your hip, in the nights the two of you struggle. You have felt his hips rutting against yours, as his kisses mapped unknown constellations on your shoulders. What does it matter if Daemon hasn’t taken you? How can these people dare interfere, or even mention what the two of you do or do not do?

Shame, once again, grips you in its clutches. You feel your face warm at the thought of how these strangers must view you. Queer. Twisted. You wonder if they blame his inability to perform on your blood ties. If they think the Seven are cursing your marriage, just as they had with the ones of King Maegor.

“It isn’t.” Daemon says, coldly. He walks away, a tense line on his shoulders, and you walk back inside the Sept.

Alicent is still lighting candles. You sense that there are not enough of them to make a difference for what is about to happen.

That night, a disgruntled looking Harwin Strong wakes you up. He tells you how he is there to supervise your packing. You are leaving the city, he explains, to your bewilderment. Effective immediately.

As you place your dresses inside some linens, and ready Quicksilver, you manage to coax the story out of him.

Daemon had been at his usual haunt in Flea Bottom, betting on some cockfights. You could picture the scene clearly. Daemon, lazily counting his winnings with that infuriating smug look he got when he was proud of himself. An angry patron, getting up and on his face after losing to him.

“Maybe that cock will work for your wife!”

The whole establishment erupting into laughter. Daemon, cold smile on his lips.

“Go to your manse, and arm yourself. Because I am going to kill you tonight.”

After that, there was little he could say in his own defense to King Viserys. It had been a premeditated act, in front of multiple witnesses. No way of denying it, or trying to shift the blame.

You stood outside the city gates, observing Caraxes. He looked as done with Daemon’s antics as you felt. In front of you, stood the world.

Daemon strode by, being dragged by Ser Harwin. He was chained, but managed to look as carefree as any free man.

“You know the rules.” Ser Harwin said, unchaining him, before turning towards you. There was a bit of sorrow in his brown eyes, perhaps feeling pity for you. “Farewell, Princess.”

“Where to, Lady Wife?” Daemon asked, cheekily. There was no hint of remorse on his face. It seemed exile reinvigorated him like nothing else.

Your lips pursed into a thin line. You didn’t want to leave. It was scary, the thought of being away from home. The times you had been outside the Red Keep could be counted with the fingers of your hands alone. And what were you to do, friendless in the big world that opened in front of you?

You wanted to punish him. If he was giving you a choice, you were going to give him a lesson.

“To the North. Perhaps that hot blood of yours will fare better there.”

“ARE YOU sure?” You ask him, all pleading eyes. Daemon nods, already sitting inside the hot spring. You are strangely fearful of the warm water, perhaps, having already grown used to the cold of the North.

“If this scalds me alive, I will come back to haunt you.” You warn, turning to face away before beginning to undress. Daemon can’t help but let his eyes linger on your body, despite knowing how indignant it would get you were you to notice. He has promised to avert his eyes, after all.

Naive as you are, you never check to see that he actually does.

He watches as you remove your furs, and unlace your dress. It has taken him quite some effort to get you to feel comfortable enough to be naked in his presence. There might come a day when you are desensitized to nakedness, but Daemon guesses you are still far away from it. He has to keep trying.

You are worth the effort, though. His precious niece, sweet as the Maiden herself and twice as pretty.

“Dragons don’t burn.” He answers, absentmindedly. You are only wearing your chemise and your hoses, and as you lean down to remove those, he gets a perfect view of your cute rear.

“Perhaps. But I am no dragon.” You pull the chemise over your head, unaware of the fact that you are being watched. Daemon drinks in the sight of your naked legs, strong yet delicate, leading up to beautiful hips and a soft back. As you pull your hair up, he notices how the muscles of your arms and back move in a graceful combination that can’t be anything more but a natural gift. He spends a few seconds mesmerized by you, before you start to turn around and Daemon remembers he is supposed to be averting his eyes.

He fixes them politely on the other side of the hot spring, careful to not let you catch him looking out of the corner of his eyes. You are becoming sloppy in your old age, he scolds himself. Daemon can't help it. Lately, he feels more like the boy he once was than the man he is. His attempts at seduction are fumbled, he gets carried away by his passion, a single one of your smiles can render him tongue twisted.

Everything that you do is charming. The slight sway of your hips as you walk, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, but most of all, your personality. Freed from the cage of Alicent’s judgmental stares, you seem to be growing into yourself. Life on the road seems to suit you, despite your fearful nature. Surrounded by strangers, you no longer feel the weight of being judged for imaginary sins.

“You are. Just one with a more…. Fragile constitution.” How he wishes to be able to turn back time, sometimes. Gather the girl you once were into his arms and soothe all the old hurts. Raise you the right way, give you all the attention you had desperately needed and watch you bloom into an impressive woman. You were already a creature of impossible beauty. How much better could you have been, if they hadn’t stunted your growth?

You were too much of a Hightower, Daemon himself had thought once. But Alicent had thought you not Hightower enough, and she had tried to mold you into one, keeping you well away from what she thought of as queer customs.

Who had told you weren't a dragon? And how had they made that awful lesson stick, until you felt adrift, and belonged nowhere?

The sudden sound of water shifting, and you hissing makes him jolt out of his contemplation. Daemon turns his head the barest bit, managing to catch sight of your hips sinking into the water, and the shape of one of your breasts. There is one puffy nipple crowning it, hard and proud and begging to be bitten. He fights the urge to pounce on you, and instead remains sitting on his side of the natural pool and tries to relax into the warm water. Patience is of the essence in seduction, after all. You need to come to him convinced it is your idea.

“Ready.” You say, sounding a bit too close. He turns and there you are, right in front of him. You sit on the shallower end, water covering you to nearly your collarbones. Daemon playfully reaches out with his foot and touches your leg, making you jump. He laughs.

“It isn’t so bad, is it?” Daemon’s voice still carries a bit of mirth. He can’t help it, you have such cute reactions.

“No. Almost like a warm bath.” You fan your face with your hands. Seeing you lose your composure a little, Daemon feels a bit guilty about pressuring you to enter the pool. It’s true you are not as used to extreme heat as he is. He rushes to your side, uncaring of his own nakedness.

“Too hot?” He asks you, wiping away a stray drop of sweat before it can get into your eyes. You mumble something incoherent, so he presses a hand to your forehead. He doesn’t want you to swoon from heat exhaustion, out of all things. But your temperature is normal. It is then he realizes your eyes are fixated on his chest.

Ah. Poor thing. Daemon can feel his lips stretching into a proud smile. Finally, succumbing to your lust. He should press his advantage, but he finds himself hesitating to do so. Despite how appealing he finds you, he understands that you are different. A being that walks the world of the divine and the mundane that skirts the two but was not made for the more carnal things.

Instead, he commits the sight to memory, for when he decides to touch himself. Perhaps tonight, even. It is something he has been doing more and more often. Daemon has found intercourse with whores is nowhere near as fun as laying on the bed, with you by his side, and tugging at his cock until completion.

He is never quiet about what he is doing. Soft grunts and moans fill your chambers each time he does. You pretend to be asleep, but Daemon can tell you are listening. The next day, you turn fevered with lust. It is you who kisses him, who rakes her claws along his back.

There is no consummation yet. But it is becoming clearer than once fully freed from the judgment of your family, there will be.

You sway slightly. Daemon opens his arms, and lets you curl into him. He guides the two of you into a sitting position, placing you firmly on his lap. Your hair falls into a mess of curls thanks to the humidity, up do barely resisting. He fixes it for you, tightening the ribbon keeping it up. Then, he starts massaging your neck and shoulders.

The pleasure of your bare skin under his hands is undescribable. It’s a luxury he has worked hard to get, and for that, tastes even sweeter. Your sweet little face is scrunched up, in a rare show of pain and pleasure. Daemon wonders if it is the face you would make when he spears you open on his cock.

An annoying hardness begins to make itself known in his groin. He feels like a mere boy, getting excited about the smallest touch. You are driving him mad. And Daemon is enjoying every second of it.

Almost as if listening to his inner monologue, you shift on his lap. Something seems to be bothering you. You can’t get comfortable, and you squirm on his lap more than a seasoned whore. Daemon can pinpoint the exact moment you notice what you are squirming on. Your eyes go wide and you freeze. An embarrassed look takes over your face.

He fights the urge to laugh, wrapping his arms more firmly around you and encouraging to rest against his chest. Daemon could spend years like this. Denial is a fun game. Months have passed, and he has yet to grow tired of it, of taking away your innocence little by little.

You lean in. You give him a playful little smile, and you bite, hard. The pain from your teeth blooms on his shoulder, making his cock throb.

“Impudent little thing.” He chastises, softly. “I should spank the defiance out of you.”

You laugh. You have come to realize that he is not as much of a brute as everyone painted him to be, and that he is too soft to make good on his threat. Ever since your argument, Daemon has never hurt you. He likes you too much for it. He wouldn’t force you to bed him, nor would he willingly do anything to upset you. Not even if you announced you didn’t want him touching you ever again.

Was this what love felt like, he wondered? Being happy with just sharing the same air you did, watching you play with your cat, being honored that he was trusted enough to feed the damn thing?

It probably was. But hell, if he was going to let it stop this corruption of your innocence. No. Instead, Daemon grabbed you by the shoulders and bit down on the hollow of your throat, playfully. You made a small sound, like a caught animal. He could tell you were getting ready to succumb to pleasure once more. His hedonist little wife, always ready to be put in a kiss drunk state. You turned liquid in his arms when it happened, going lax over him.

Daemon could tease you some more. Or… He leans in, breathing in your scent, before blowing a giant raspberry by the side of your neck. You shriek in laughter, squirming on his lap. Water is sent flying everywhere. He peppers your face and neck in kisses as you do, laughing st your squeals and squirming.

“Daemon.” You say, after a while, when the both of you have calmed down. Your head rests on his shoulder, expression hidden.

“Little niece.” He whispers, and you tremble at the endearment.

“I have decided something.” You whisper back. Somehow, your voice feels loud in the cave of the hot spring, nothing but the soft murmur of water being heard.

“You have?” Daemon asks, heart thumping in his chest as if he has just taken to the skies in Caraxes. He pulls you out of hiding, lifting your head towards him.

“I want to marry you right.” You say, shyly. You look deeply embarrassed. “Under my faith. So we can…” You trail off, averting your eyes.

“So we can..?” Daemon asks, feeling a triumphant grin spread over his face.

“Have a child.”

And oh, it is the most wonderful thing he has even heard. He will buy you a cloak, and a couple of ribbons for the hand fasting. He will find the two of you a home. Daemon says all this, as he presses his forehead against yours. Not even his conquest of the Stepstones felt as sweet.