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slimybeth69 · 2 months ago

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Que Será, Será

Que será, será -Spanish phrase (que se·rá, se·rá) English translation: What will be, will be

No outbreak!Joel/reader (no descriptions but you have a backstory and are an adult virgin.)

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...

Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.

What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?

Rating: Explicit- (smut, dirty talk, DD/lg dynamics eventually, BDSM, )

Warnings: Drug use, dirty talk, sexually inexperienced oc, Daddy Dom Joel, darkish (more pervert)!Joel. Slow burn, eventual angst (so much). (So, this is cross posted from my ao3. It's a WIP and I haven't updated in a while, but I'm working on it. I hope you all like this first chapter.)

This is un-betaed, so...beware.

This is the worst fucking job you’ve ever had in your whole life. Why did you move here? To Austin, Texas? Really? You honestly don’t even know. You just needed to get away from your dad. Your mom passed so long ago from that heart attack that…it just was your dad at your childhood home you never go visit anymore. Your dad didn't even really bother you or call you, so you don't know why you felt the need to distance yourself from him by thousands of miles.

Samantha. She’s the reason you moved down here. To be close to your sister and your nephew. She was almost never around though! So what the fuck!! You’ve just been living in her fully finished basement while Samantha and her amazing husband travel the world– she was sad for whatever reason. Postpartum something. Sadness... it plagued her. So her husband Cody packed up whatever weird IT company he ran from home and gave you the keys to the house and said…

“Have fun. Place is yours for six months while I try and turn your sister back into a normal person. Don’t burn my house down.” -Cody.

Cody was great. The perfect husband for her. Your brother Paul lives in fucking Florida like an asshole. Never wants to get married. Lives on the beach all day. Like an asshole.

He is fun to drink with—

Holy fucking shit it’s that guy again!! Oh!! He’s so handsome. He’s old enough to be your dad…but who gives a shit. He’s so fucking hot. OOOHHHH my god. He’s gonna come through your line. The other one is open but he’s gonna wait?? Interesting.

You have all these thoughts as you’re cashing out the person in front of him. This person has so much shit and the handsome fucker behind him just has a caulk or something that comes in one of those pointy tubes. You don’t know anything about home improvement!! Not even one bit! You lied and said you did though on the application. They paid the best and didn’t make you wear a uniform. You could wear jeans and a t-shirt. You had a stupid fucking apron on though.

Like an asshole.

Ohh he’s here. He’s right here and he’s smiling at you.

“Hey, you having a good day today?” You try and spark up casual conversation as you scan the one item he has. He’s been in here so many times in the few weeks you started working here and you’ve said…maybe four words to each other.

But he always comes through your line. This is the second time he’s been in today (through your line)– which isn’t uncommon, he’s probably a contractor. He looks like one-- dirty shirt and jeans. Steel toed boots. Contractors and builders and roofers or whatever come in here multiple times a day sometimes, so, you don’t think anything of that, but you do think about how he always chooses to wait in your line.

“Was, until I had to come back here fer’ this.” He holds up the tube of what you see now is silicone whatever and he chuckles. “Spend more on gas than I do bullshit for the job.” He smirks and your knees go weak. He’s so cute.

“Well…I didn’t mind seeing you again.” You attempt to flirt but you’re so bad at it…you think. You dunno. You don’t really date. Your first and only boyfriend put a bad taste in your mouth when he freaked the fuck out when you told him you changed your mind about sleeping with him. Almost fuckin’ hit you. But you kicked him in the chest and got the fuck out of his car before you had your pants on. Fuck Jackie Harris…cock sucker.

“Wha– oh— rea—” He is stunned to stammering that you’ve said this to him. “Ya know who yer’ talkin’ to…right?” He looks over his shoulder like there might be someone behind him. You smirk and try another attempt at flirting.

“Well…not really. You havent’ told me your name.” You bat your eyelashes at him and bite your bottom lip. He’s blinking at you.

“M-My name?” He stutters again and it makes you chuckle. You nod and look him up and down slowly, then bring your eyes back to his. He’s blushing. “S’Joel." He gives you a goofy smile and you’re blushing now and you don’t even know why. “Joel Miller. Yours?"

“If you give me your number, I’ll–” You start but you cannot finish.

Joel cannot get his phone out of his back pocket fast enough. He unlocks it and hands it to you. You type your name into the contact portion and then type in your number. You call yourself… so he can’t completely ignore you. Even though you’ll never text him first or ever if he never reaches out to you. You hand his phone back to him after you feel yours buzz in your jeans.

“Perfect.” You smile and hand him the phone back.

“You free later?” He raises his eyebrows and his tongue dances behind his teeth, his lips are slightly parted and, again, it makes your knees weak.

“Sure am.” You whisper quietly.

“Well expect a call from me then.” He winks at you and walks out the door.

Shut the fuck up? Who even are you?? You never do stuff like that?? Jackie completely freaked you out about sex and so… you still hadn’t done it. UGH and he’s so much older than you so he’s obviously going to be experienced and he’s going to want that!!

It’s not like you hadn’t done… anything. You’ve had a couple fingers inside you… a tongue on you once… you didn’t feel much of anything so any time some else offered after that you always said no because…why bother? It wasn’t even that good. It’s not like you were saving yourself… not at all. You don’t give a shit about that… you just wanna find someone who isn’t so focused on just that? You’re not really sure. You think about it constantly and over analyze every man who does want to sleep with you until you no longer wanna sleep with him.

Maybe it’ll be different with Joel.

When your shift ends and you get into Cody’s pick up truck he left for you to use while they were gone. You didn’t have a car, so you’re saving for one while you live in their basement…working in a hardware store. Ugh. Life hadn’t been…not nice to you. You worked for a company in Jersey for years until they went bankrupt and left you with no job. So, you needed a change. Couldn’t afford your apartment anymore. Dad was a dick, so you weren’t moving back home with him.

Joel does call you that night. You’re sitting on the couch watching nothing… not even really paying attention to what was on the TV. You were reading some crazy true crime blog that had you afraid to go to bed at night but this was what you did every night. His call scares you but you answer excitedly.

“Hello?” You try and sound super casual.

“Hey. Sorry, I would’a called ya earlier but work ran a lil late.” He apologizes but he shouldn’t be…he’s calling you. You tease him.

“Ooooohh. That sucks. The other guy I called 'cause you kept me waiting is gonna be here soon.” You let the sarcasm drip so he doesn’t think you’re serious.

“Gimmie your address… I’ll meet him there. Scare him off.” He snickers into the phone. You have butterflies.

“Oh I bet you would. Mr. Scowls Constantly.” You tease him again.

“You still asked for my number…sooooo, I must be doin’ somethin’ right.” Joel teases you back into the phone. “What’re you doin’? Can I come pick you up for a lil bit?” He asks with no teasing in his voice now. You’re literally in your comfies. You got no makeup on and your hair is up.

“I look real gross?” You warn him in question so he has the option to back out.

“Worse than you looked earlier?” Joel chuckles into the phone.

“Nevermind. I’m going to bed—” You tease playfully into the phone.

“Nooo. C’mon. I got a joint rolled and we can just cruise for a while.” Joel sounds like he wants to see you. You smirk. You tell him the address.

“How far away are you from here?” You ask, nervous now because he’s really going to come.

“Literally five minutes. I was jus’ workin’ on a house two streets over.” Joel laughs and you hear his turn signal in the background. “I’m on my way, cutie.”

Then he hangs up! And he’s really coming to pick you up right now!! You grab the joint you were going to smoke before bed and put it between your lips as you slip on your sneakers. You give yourself one last look in the mirror…whine quietly because you really didn’t think he was going to call you.. Not tonight at least!! It was like nine o’clock! You came home, showered and just got to reading your blog. Had been doing that trying to pass the time and not look at your phone every two seconds seeing if you had somehow missed a call from him within that time.

Now he’s coming to pick you up… to go cruise around… Oh my god. Okay.

Your phone dings and it’s him texting you that he’s outside.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You grab your keys and rush out the door. He has a big black pick up— bigger than Cody’s and honestly, you have trouble getting in. You jump up and set your joint next to his in the empty cup holder.

“What’s that?” Joel points to it as you fasten your seatbelt.

“My contribution?” You raise your eyebrow at him and he chuckles.

“Your ass in my seat is contribution enough, pretty girl.” He growls at you and speeds off. "What were you doin'?" He asks as he pulls off your street. You smile over at him stupidly because he is so handsome. He still has the clothes on he was wearing earlier.

"Just readin' some scary shit that makes me nervous." You chuckle and he does too. He has one hand on the wheel and the other arm is resting on the large center console.

"Why would ya go n' do that? Stupid." He flicks his head to look at you quickly before he turns to look at the road again.

"Don't I know it. Stay up all night reading scary stories just to be tired the next morning." You can't stop smiling at him.

"Need me to come spend the night? Keep you safe?" He jokes as he turns up the radio a little. You roll your eyes at him and enjoy the scenery for a while. You weren't close to the edge of town so you're on back roads in no time. He lights his joint and hands it to you once he gets out of town and on an open stretch of road with nothing around…. And now you’re a little nervous. What did you get yourself into… he’s a literal stranger.

“You’re not from ‘round here. I can tell by yer’ accent. New York?” He asks curiously. You shake your head as you hit the joint and hand it back to him.

“Close. Jersey.” You smile and turn your body towards him slightly with your back pressed against the door. Joel looks at you and his eyes trace along the curves of your body.

“S’cute…” He trails off like he has more to say. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” You smirk. Joel groans. “What!? How old are you?”

“I’m in my fifties. I’m an old man.” He smirks over at you. “You look like you could be my daughters age.” He rolls his eyes and the smirk leaves his face.

“I’m about to be in my thirties.” You smirk at him and then laugh at his reaction when he groans louder. “Stooooooop.” You whine at him and place your hand on his forearm that he has resting on the center console.

When you do that the hair on your arm stands up and he gets goosebumps. You blink up at him but keep your hand on his arm. He smirks and takes the joint from you. He steers with his knee so he doesn’t have to move his arm from under your hand. You slowly start to run your fingertips along his scarred and suntanned skin.

“Feels good.” Joel growls down to you from low in his throat. You flick your eyes up to him, off his arm, and you’re silenced by the look in his eyes. It makes your breath catch in your throat. “Yer’ real soft.” He whispers.

“Thanks.” You sigh softly. It makes him smile– the same goofy smile from the store. It’s so cute, fuck. He’s so handsome. You do not even care if he’s as old as your dad. He is so fucking hot. Jesus. Okay. Composed. You’re not going to do anything stupid.

As you think this, Joel pulls off the road into a little shallow ditch. He leans his seat back slightly and hits the joint again but it went out. He relights it, hits it and then hands it to you.

“You like workin–”

“No.” You cut him off before he can finish while you’re hitting the joint. “Hate it, but they pay me good and don’t make me work late. So…I’ll stay for now.” You smirk at him. “I just moved down here from Jersey actually. Couple of months ago.”

“Oh? Whachya runnin’ away from?” He flicks his eyebrows up once and smirks. You chuckle but… you were running away from being a failure.

“Just wanted to be closer to my sister. She had a baby right before I came down here— as soon as I get here…her and her husband take off to some tropical island or some shit.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s their house?” Joel is still looking at you but you’re looking out of the front window.

“Yeah. Not even my truck in the driveway.” You snort but you’re self-conscious. He’s a contractor and probably doing well for himself…this is a nice truck and he had a nice new phone when you typed your number into it earlier.

“Shit. I struggled with money n’ stuff until I was well into my forties. Don’t let it discourage you. Least yer’ workin’.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and now you want him to kiss you but you’re not going to ask for that. You do start to lightly scratch the inside of his arm though and he twists it, offering more to you.

You won’t say no if he tries though. You hope he does.

“Do you do… contracting…things for yourself or do you work for someone?” You don’t know the technical terms for it.

“I own my own company. Me n’ my brother. Business is good now so I could afford to hire on a couple guys recently. Been seein’ my daughter a whole bunch more. She’s almost in her thirties too. ‘Bout to get married. Real nice guy she’s got.” Joel is smiling. “So…I take a couple days off a week to drive to Fort Worth to see her.”

“Awww..That’s so nice. I love that. My dad’s a piece of shit. So, you’re a cool dad for that.” You smile at him and he’s one thousand times more attractive to you.

“Thanks. I doubt myself sometimes— not so much anymore. I did when she was a kid but she turned out real good.” Joel smiles back at you and moves his arm so it’s closer to you, more stretched out so you can scratch your nails along more of his skin now. You oblige him and he exhales through his nose softly. You smirk.

“Been a while since you been touched like this?” You tease. Joel narrows his eyes on yours. You blink.

“Honestly… damn. Okay. So… can’t be mad at me… okay?”

“Oh god. You’re married aren’t you!?” You exclaim. You pull your hand away but he grabs for your wrist and gets you. He pulls your hand back towards him gently. You don’t fight him…very much.

“I’m not married. Nope.” Joel rubs his fingers along the inside of your arm gently as you continue to lightly pull away– you’re not making any real attempt to get way. “Not even in a relationship.” He shakes his head no.

“But?” You twist your wrist in his hand softly but he just rakes his fingers up and down your arm gently and slowly.

“I do have… a lady… who I see sometimes.” He groans. “She really isn’t anything you have to be worried about–”

“Who says I’m even jealous? I just didn’t wanna be a home wrecker.” You turn your head away from him but keep letting him touch your arm gently.

“I never said you were jealous… I said worried. You said jealous..” Joel is smirking and you don’t even need to look at him to see it. You roll your eyes and turn your head towards him. He is smirking. “Don’t gotta be nothin’ though.” Joel slow blinks at you and his tongue darks across his bottom lip quickly. His fingers never stop moving.

“Why’s that?” You ask quietly. The mood in the truck has changed drastically in two seconds. Like it did when you touched his arm for the first time..but now there is a weird and…not uncomfortable tension but it’s like there is electricity in the air— like you could be struck by lightning!!

“‘Cause if you told me to stop seein’ her I would.” Joel grins again.

“Why? You don’t even know me.” You whisper.

“I wanna.” He whispers back to you.

“Okay.” You sigh softly.

“You gonna keep that seatbelt on all night or do you wanna get comfortable?” Joel whispers to you, pulling your hand up as the same time he leans down and his warm, wet lips come into contact with the skin on the inside of your wrist. You swallow hard when he does that but then he lets you hand go completely. He’s already taken his seat belt off. You’ve been sitting over in the passenger seat like safety Sue!! Looking stupid.

“Sorry.” You whisper to him, your cheeks flushing red.

“Don’t be sorry— sorry for what?” Joel raises one eyebrow at you and pulls a new joint from somewhere out of his door. A little hidden compartment.

“I dunno.” You shrug your shoulders. “You just have a bunch of those ready at all times?” You tease as he lights this new joint. He nods silently as he inhales.

“My brother grows it. Give’s me a good discount on it.”

“That’s real fuckin’ nice. I get mine from some nineteen year old at my job. Overcharges me like I’m an idiot.” You grumble. Joel chuckles.

“We’ve all been there, cuteness.” He hands it to you and leans back in his seat again.

“You could have smoked mine— I really don’t mind.” You point to your joint, still in the glove compartment.

“Respectfully… I’ll never smoke yer’ weed.” Joel curls one arm and puts it behind the back of his head to rest on. His head is turned to look at you. You are kind of offended by this.

“It’s good shit! I don’t smoke–”

“Could be the best weed I’ve ever seen…” Joel narrows his eyes on you again. “I’ll never take anything from you… only give.” He rumbles. In between your legs twinges when he says that.

“Oh..” You sigh softly.

“I like to give.” Joel whispers quietly. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah…” You sigh again quietly and Joel’s eyes soften immensely and he reaches for the joint as you hand it to him. He slowly rubs the pads of his index and middle finger along the backs of those same two fingers on your hand as he plucks the joint from you.

What!? What was that!? Such a small, simple touch and now you’re pussy is leaking!? Are you serious!? Get out of here right now. You’re going to do something so stupid if you don’t.

“Yer’ fuckin’ cute.” Joel shakes his head after the two of you stare each other for a moment.

“So are you. Fuck. So handsome.” You groan and close your eyes so you don’t have to look at him anymore.

“Stop it.” Joel laughs softly. “Jus’ an old man.”

“I like it.” You say immediately. He barely gets the word man out before you’re responding to him. Joel’s eyes scan across your face slowly as you gaze at him. He’s hard to read but…fuck…he is so hot.

“Good.” He stays on his side of the truck and you’re starting to wonder what you’re gonna have to do to get him to roll over here on top of you. You desperately want him. Need him maybe. “Why’re you starin’ at me like that?” He smirks as he hits the joint. His eyes avoid yours.

“You know.” You say this two octaves deeper than you would normally talk and now you’re narrowing your eyes on him. He doesn’t hesitate. He taps the joint out in his little car ashtray and is crawling over the console to get to you.

He does everything. He flips the lever up that drops your seat back, he’s on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips, and his hands on your waist so gently.

“You want me to kiss you?” He whispers softly, double checking that this is really okay. You nod up to him, unable to speak because you might lose your virginity tonight. You’d give it to him. Holy shit. He doesn’t waste another second. His lips crash into yours and both of you open your mouth to let the other in. They are deep, messy kisses right from the beginning. Desperate.

“Fuck.” You sigh as he pulls away for just a second to adjust his knees in the narrow seat. You’d probably fit better up there but…his weight on top of you just feels so fucking good. Everything about it. He smirks before his lips are back on yours. His tongue is so soft and warm and he tastes like weed and mint gum. Smells a little like lumber and sweat. You reach up and run your fingers through his shaggy hair from the back and get a good grip of it in your hands, pulling him tighter into the kiss.

Joel groans loudly, one of his strong, rough, calloused hands slips under your shirt and slides across your stomach softly. You whimper quietly as his hand cups your breast over your thin athletic bra. He squeezes softly and he thumbs across your nipple and it stiffens for him at once. He pulls away and gasps for air. His lips are slick with a mixture of both of your saliva.

“I’ve wanted to do that the first day I saw you.” Joel admits sheepishly, his hand still cupping you under your shirt. You still have his hair in your hands.

“You should have talked to me sooner.” You whisper up to him and pull him back into kissing. He moans softly as you eagerly push your tongue into his mouth and swirl it around his. He squeezes your soft mound again but this time with more force. He pulls way, forces you to let him pull away now and you whine in protest because you just want him to keep kissing you.

“Hey..” He pants softly. “I just gotta warn you that I like it… a little rough… I like to talk real dirty.” He leans down and kisses you again, this time his hips push down into yours and he rocks his back and forth across you. “Fuck.” He groans into your mouth.

You are sure that you’re soaked through your jeans. There is no way you’re not.

“S’fine.” You pant back up to him and try to tug him back down to you but he doesn’t let you. You whine again and make him laugh.

“I’m jus’ lettin’ ya know ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt yer’ feelin’s. I don’t… really think that shit.” He whispers, kissing at your bottom lip once between words. “Jus’ like bein’ kinda mean n’ naughty.” He sighs as he sinks back against your lips. Your hips push back up against his in agreement to whatever he said. You don’t care how he speaks to you. No one has ever really spoken to you during whatever you’ve done.

“Let’s hear it.” You break the kiss long enough to say that before you’re attached to him again. He moans softly and grips your breast harder now and thumbs at your hard peak with force.

“Yeah?” He makes sure, gives you a chance to back out of this if you don’t want to.

“Do it.” You breath out against his mouth softly and now you’re so glad you brushed your teeth in the shower.

“The naughty lil slut wants me to talk real dirty to her?” Joel says in barely a whisper into your mouth. Your whole body reacts to this and you push your hips into his and your fingers tighten in his hair. “Oh slutty lil girl wants this old man to talk dirty.” He grins and kisses you again. His hips dig into yours. He lets out a low groan when he does that. “Fuck.”

Joel climbs off of you and back into the drivers seat. You’re alarmed to say the least.

“What? What did I do?” You’re so stunned and are almost crawling into his lap. He stops you with an apologetic face.

“S’just… a lot. Gotta slow down.” Joel swallows hard and leans in and kisses you again. You both linger but when you open your mouth he pulls away again. “If we keep doin’ that… I’m gonna wanna do more.” He chuckles nervously.

“Like what?” You bat your eyelashes at him. He closes his eyes softly and sighs before he opens them to look at you.

“Whatever you let me do is fine. I’d just watch.” He whispers. You pinch your brows together.

“Watch?” You’re so confused.

“Yeah… just watch you…” Joel trails off.

“Do you just wanna come back to my place?” You ask quietly. Joel puts on hand on the steering wheel and then rests his forehead on the back of his hand.

“So fuckin’ bad… Jesus Christ.” He groans softly. “I just… I dunno. Don’t want you thinkin’ that’s the kinda guy I am… I just had sex with that lady last night.. Would feel weird doin’ it with you so close together.”

“Oh.” You feel a little gross now, honestly.

“We don’t kiss like that.” Joel must sense how that made you feel. “I’d do a lot of things with you I wouldn’t do with her…” Joel is scanning your body again with his eyes.

“Like what?” You don’t care what he does to you.. You’re not sleeping with him tonight… not after that omission but…he could do other things to you. He could stick the handle of a hammer into you and you don’t think you’d care.

“You want me to be real nice ‘bout it or real naughty?” Joel growls softly.

“Naughty.” You whisper to him. He grins and nods to your sweats.

“Put your hand in there and touch while I tell you what I’d do to you…what I am gonna do to you…soon.” He is still growling and speaking quietly. You hesitate for a moment but then slide your hand under the waistband. Joel sighs softly.

“Okay..” Your fingers find what is desperately buzzing and leaking between your legs.

“First… I’d– well.. Where are we? Here or in a bed?” Joel looks down at your face instead of where your hand just disappeared to.

“Here.” You smirk up at him as your fingers slip into the wetness.

“Well, first I’d crawl right over on top of you again like I was..” Joel sits his seat up a little so he can relax but still see your hand. “Do you care… if.. I, um…”

“I want you to,” You know he’s hard. You felt it pressed against the outside of your cunt when he ground into you earlier. You don’t even look as you hear his zipper. You want to look so bad but you don’t wanna seem too desperate. You do wanna see it so badly though. It felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever touched you think.

“So I’d be on top of you ‘cause that’s what the lil girl wants, right? Is for me to be on top of you?” He sighs softly as he speaks and you wanna know what’s making him sigh but you won’t look. Not until he asks you. Your fingers rub against your clit slowly and almost barely because if you touch it with more than a feathers touch and faster than a snail you’ll come while he’s talking to you.

“Yeah. I do want that. Really bad.” You moan quietly as you graze your spot a little too hard.

“Jesus fuck.” Joel sighs again. “Yer’ so fuckin’ sexy. Yer’ voice…” Joel’s voice is… different. You’re so fucking curious to know what he’s doing. You know, you do. You can hear his skin slapping together. You hear him spit now and wonder what the fuck he just spit on but then Joel moans, a real moan with verbrato to it. That makes your fingers flinch and they press down hard against your bundle.

“Fuuh-ck.” You moan softly, trying to bite it back a little but this makes him moan again.

“Lemme hear you sing, little bird. C’mon. Sing for me. I know you can.” He moans to you softly. “Push them fingers inside that tight lil hole fer’ me.” He coos down to you deeply. You do, you push them into your cunt and curl your fingers against your spot.

“Oh fuck. Oh my fuck– Jesus.” You do moan, loudly.

“Push your shirt up, lemme see them fuckin’ tits, baby.” Joel sounds desperate to see you. You give him a show. You push your shirt and bra up to your neck and tug at one of your nipples softly as your fingers go back to working circles around your clit.

“Oh m– Joel.” You moan his name and the sound he makes in response is lascivious. It comes from deep within his chest. You do it again. “Oh, fuck. Joel, touch me… touch me here.” You run your fingers along the mound and hardened peak closest to him.

Joel lets out the most filthy sound you’ve ever come out of a man. His fingers are on your sensitive nub and he’s twisting and tugging like you are on the other side but he’s rough. He pinches and pulls. It pulls a disgusting moan from your throat and you arch your back as your fingers work faster and in tighter circles.

“Look. I want you to see it. Please.” Joel is practically begging through his own moans as he leaves your nipple and now just gropes the whole fleshy mound in his rough hand.

You open your eyes finally and look at what he wants you to see. It’s big…bigger than you were anticipating. The biggest you’ve ever seen in person. He could easily fit both of his hands on it if he wanted. There wouldn’t be much left over but both fists could fit on that thing. It’s an angry red, the tip is almost purple and he is leaking precum.

“I wanna c-come with you.” Joel is staring down at you, his eyes moving between where your hand is hidden and your chest and your face. You flick your eyes between his face and his beautiful dick. Fuck, it’s perfect.

“M’gonna.” You whine loudly as your body stiffens. Joel groans as you moan loudly. The stiffness from you leaves when you hear him moaning and his jagged breathing. Its’ bliss filling your body.

“Such a g-g-good girl.” Joel stutters through his orgasm as yours rips through you. You are not quiet about it.

“Fuck. Joel. Oh my god. It’s so fucking good. Fuck.” You whimper as your hips rock up into your own hand. This is the most powerful and intense orgasm of your life. You’ve never felt this good.

“Yeah, pretty lil slut. You come so fuckin’ good.” He is just panting now as you ebb off your own orgasm. Joel still has his hand on your breast. You don’t care.

“Wow.” You sigh softly.

“Fuckin’ say that again. Made a mess.” Joel chuckles. You pull your hand from your pants. Joel reaches for your wrist. “C’mere.” He growls softly and the next thing you know he’s sucking your fingers into his mouth. He groans against them quietly as his tongue slides all across your digits. You’re in awe when he pulls way. He wipes his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. “What?” He looks at you nervously as you gawk at him.

“Do you… like the taste–”

“Of you? Fuck yeah.” Joel nods and then clears his throat. “I don’t go down on everyone…but I would on you. I’d do it for fuckin’ hours if I could get you to make sounds like that.” Joel is leaning back against his seat. His cock his still in his hand but it’s soft now. He did make a mess all over his shirt. You reach over and with one finger run the tip of it along his still messy and leaking seam. You collect the remnants as he sighs quietly, watching your every movement. “Taste it.” He whispers to you.

You suck your finger into your mouth as he watches but he has to look away quickly. He puts his cock back in his jeans and you frown.

“Yer’ too fuckin’ cute n’ sexy. Gonna get me hard again.” Joel smirks. You blush and wipe your fingers on your sweats and sigh loudly.

“You’re really fucking handsome n’ sexy too.” You sigh again because that was just so incredible. Joel is just smiling down at you, leaning his elbow on the center console.

“So… is this what you wanted my number fer’ or… would you let me take you out to dinner sometime?” Joel flicks his eyebrows up. You blush harder and let your set incline so you’re not laying down flat anymore.

“I would go to dinner with you.” You smirk at him and now he’s blushing.

“You work tomorrow night?” He asks softly.

“I never work past five.” You smile and take his hand when he reaches for you. He rubs the backs of your fingers with his.

“I’m not gonna see that lady again… just so you know.” He says it like he’s nervous.

“Okay.” You don’t really know what else to say.

“Just lettin’ ya know…so that you don’t think I’m tryin’ to be funny with you or anything.” Joel’s eyes are glued to your hand and he’s still just touching.

“Okay.” You’re still at a loss.

“Do… you sleep with anyone else?”

“I’ve never slept with anyone.” You blurt out mindlessly through a chuckle like it’s funny. You die inside. You cover your eyes with your free hand and wait for him to drop the hand he’s holding but he doesn’t.

“Wh– are you ser— no. You’re fuckin’ with me.” Joel doesn’t believe you. Perfect.

“Gotchya.” You smirk and point at him with the hand you had over your eyes. Joel laughs and shakes his head.

“Had me there fer’ a second… but seriously… yer’ not sleepin’--”

“No. I haven’t been with anyone since I moved to Austin.” You nod at him because it’s true. You weren’t with anyone before that either.

“Alright. Just like bein’ safe is all.” Joel shrugs his shoulders.

“I like that you’re talkin’ to me about it. Shows me your respectable… or don’t wanna give your wife another STD.” You wink at him and Joel rolls his eyes.

“Oh shuddup.” He pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of your fingers. “Not married. Divorced almost thirty years.” He whispers.

“Damn… you a bad husband?” You tease. He nods silently and flicks his tongue against your fingers gently.

“The fuckin’ worst.”

thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

#no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #no outbreak au #tlou joel #dirty talk #bd/sm daddy #age difference

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wonyopout · 1 year ago

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(cw: fingering, mommy kink, ass play, praise kink sorta kinda, g!p/strap it can b read as either i basically just use “cock” as a catch all)

drabble i don’t have time to flesh out into a full fic.. yet

anal whore wony >>> you and wonyoung being eachothers first serious relationship outside of hookups and so you bring up experimenting to see what you both like,, and wony (who in my mind is just a lil sexually repressed) just blurts out “let’s do anal :DD”, and you can kinda tell she’s been waiting for the ok from you to mention doing anything even a little less vanilla bc she’s So excited about it.

using your fingers at first to stretch her ass and it’s definitely a foreign feeling for her but she can’t help but push back into your hand to get you to go deeper. her ears burning when you say “feels nice, bun? “ no need for her to even answer you could tell by just how wet she was, slick practically running down her thighs, playing with her little clit while fingering her ass has her whining and shaking,, begging you to go harder. slipping a third finger in and all it takes is a few more thrusts before she’s squirting, making a mess of you both and the sheets. safe to say she’s turned into a complete anal whore after the first time and practically begs you to play with her ass everytime you fuck 🤭

she gets so excited when you show her the set of plugs you bought her, her getting all shy when she asks you to prep her and put them in. you agree of course! anything for your baby. by the time you’ve grabbed the lube you come back to see her completely stripped and sitting so so pretty, practically vibrating with how excited she is. loves the feeling of being plugged up so much :(( whining and moaning the whole time, absentmindedly humping the bed bc of how good she feels. not wanting to hurt her so you take it slow and have her keep the plugs in longer as they get bigger. praising her and telling her how well she’s doing taking everything you give her, she’s almost cumming from the praise alone.

her going hours and hours with her ass filled, moaning whenever she moves so much as an inch. she’s so horny she can barely think straight, walks around the house in just panties and a tshirt bc a. easy access and b. all she needs to do is lift up her shirt a bit and show you how messy she is for you to take pity on her, either fingering her or eating her out while she’s still plugged up. imagine you plug her up with the biggest one and she’s being so good about it 🥺 tears streaming down her pretty face because it’s such a big stretch. her mumbling “hurts so good” and “m’so full mommy” once you’ve got the plug fully in her. pulling it back out a bit to the thickest part just to hear her sob and moan poor thing :( telling her to be a good girl and wait with it in her while you finish up some work you have to do.. promising her you’ll finally put your cock in her ass if she’s patient and lets you get your work done…

she lasts maybe Maybe thirty minutes before she comes over to your desk and forces herself on your lap, grinding her ass down onto you. all teary eyed when she whines about how she’s more than ready for you. at this point she’s completely given up on wearing panties after how many pairs she’s ruined over the course of you training her ass, her slick coating her thighs and your lap. you decide she’s had enough partly because you feel a little bad for the poor bunny, but mostly bc you wanna ruin her ass just as badly as she wants you to. pushing her over onto the bed face down ass up and she’s already moaning, reaching back to spread herself open for you. you quickly strip and wony takes one of her hands and goes to play with her clit while she watches you. swatting her hand away and she whines right up until she feels you rubbing your cock along her pussy, using her slick to lube you up.

“you gonna let me use your cunt so I can get my dick nice and wet for your ass bun?”

“mmMmh- yes, yes plea-“

wonyoung yelping in surprise when you sheath yourself fully in her at once and her legs nearly give out… being a tease and pumping inside her a few times and wony can’t help but push herself back against you to meet your thrusts :(( squelching noises filling the room bc of just how wet she is 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 easing the plug out of her while you’re still fucking her cunt. pulling out and lining yourself up with her ass, pushing just barely halfway in and that’s when her legs really do give out on her. finally bottoming out, slowly rocking your hips into her ass and she’s already panting. “mommy, harder please pleaseplease”, and who are you to deny her when she asks so nicely! setting a bruising pace as you grab wonyoungs hips to make her meet each one of your thrusts.. the sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room. her cumming with a sob when you start playing with her clit while not letting up your thrusts for even a second

#ive smut #wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung smut #ive x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #girl group smut #ive imagines #wonyopout #this got a lil long..

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

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Truly, Madly, Deeply

Daemon Targaryen, Viserys Targaryen, Otto Hightower x Targ!Reader + with a hint of Aemma x Reader

Summary: This follows the five (and a half) accounts you, the princess, get ravished by your immensely loyal subjects.

Word Count: 20k+

Warnings: fem!reader, twin!reader, targcest (brother fucker), aged up!everyone, pwp that spiraled out of control, so much smut (masturbation [fic literally opens w it], voyeurism, threesome [f/f/m, f/m/m], vaginal penetration, dom/sub dynamic, anal penetration, double penetration, oral (f receiving), marking, cock warming, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink, public sex, hair pulling, edging, biting, spanking, choking/breath play, cream pie, overstimulation), internet translated high valyrian, slow burn, fuck boy!Viserys, stupid puppy!Daemon, church boy!Otto, baby girl!Aemma, city girl!reader, angst, fluff, jealousy, possessiveness, typos, etc.

A/N: you guys imma be so for real this shit is nasty like NASTY 🥲 DD/DNE MINORS DNI btw i did the math for their ages during this time and 💀💀💀💀 i aged them up cos viserys is canonically 16 when he and aemma were wed which means daemon is 14. We're all going to agree everyone is in at least their 20s cos aint NO fucking way im writing about children fucking. Also the fact i almost made her fuck otto twice but i got too tired to write it HAHAAH. title is a 1d song btw, or a savage garden one, depends on who you are Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @sloanexx @esquivelbianca

"Though Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa had one set of twins and, sequentially, a son, it was not uncommon for many to think or mistake their children as triplets, moreover when they reached a certain point of maturity. It was almost ascertain that where one of the three was found, the two would not be far off, especially during the fires of their youth. Though eventually, both Viserys and Daemon would outgrow their sister in height and weight, neither would outgrow her wit and command over them, leaving her apparent as the head, and the two as her shoulders." --Excerpt from 'The Songs in the Dance of Dragons' by Grand Maester Hamish, circa 500 A.C.

Daemon laid on his back. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and chest. He had gone to bed in the clothes he was dressed in the night before, though it was drenched in all sorts of fluids. He could not be bothered to change then, he could not be bothered to change now, not even as the hour passes swiftly.

His sister would soon return from Citadel for their brother's wedding.

And he loathed it.

He loathed to know his sister, that you would shine your face upon him, only because Viserys asked you to come.

Viserys asked.

Viserys asked you to come.

Daemon's breath strains in his neck.

"Come, sister... come on my cock."

Daemon grits his teeth at the words, willing that sour memory away, cursing his brother's existence.

It was not helping him get what he needed from his hand right now.

Damn you. Damn you and the fact he had woken with an uncomfortable hard on, for he had dreamt of you.

He dreamt of your cheeks, of your shoulders, of your waist. He dreamt of how you embraced him tenderly against your breasts, and how snuggly he fit against you, for he was still at an age where you were taller than him. He belonged against your ribs then.

He pants as he strokes himself rapidly up and down.

He belongs against your ribs now still.

He tricks his senses with the memory of you. He recalls the way you smelled, the way you caressed his cheek, and the way you furiously defended him against Viserys' coarseness.

Daemon remembers a moment wherein he wept against you, there against your ribs. His tears that day were sweet, for he had you on his side.

He imagined that moment as he touched himself. He willed the memory of your scent and your voice into existence as he tightly pleasured his pulsing manhood. He recalled the softness of your palm as you brushed his chin affectionately. He pretended his working hand was yours.

Daemon's heart pounded as he chased after the feeling growing in his loins. He further quickens his actions.

The next part of the memory plays in his head against his will. Viserys barks at him and you, pointing out that he too was injured by their argument-turned-brawl.

Daemon heaves heavily.

Fucking Viserys.

He screws his eyes shut as he curls on the cushion, shifting on his spot as his arm began to tire.

He tries to freeze the memory in his mind, wanting to think only of your feel, your fragrance, but his mind is not on his side. He watches with his subconscious how you break away from him to go to Viserys, to go to your twin, your wretched half, to him he could never compete with. Yes, he too was injured, though, in Daemon's opinion, he was undeserving of your attention, for Viserys had inflicted a much larger wound on him.

Daemon's nostrils flare as his eyes rip open.

Where the pattern of the ceiling should be, he sees how you kissed Viserys to calm him down.

He heaves heavily, body straining even more as he fucks himself with hand, a growing bitterness in his mouth. It was not the morning breath that tasted so.

And again, he remembers it; the sour memory.

"Viserys," you moaned.

Daemon shakes his head furiously.

"Come, sister," Viserys panted as he thrust roughly into you, "come on my cock," he sighs, "be a good girl and come for your beloved twin, my pretty."

Daemon feels tears build in the corner of his eyes as he seals his lids tightly together. He relives the sounds his older siblings made that horrid afternoon.

He chokes on his spit as he thinks of your oh-face through the small crack in the door you idiots carelessly left open. He remembers how Viserys stuffed himself into you while on your knees on the guestroom bed, how he yanked your silver locks back and slapped his hand on your mouth to shut you up.

It didn't work; Daemon could still hear your lewd sounds slip through his fingers. He heard them clearly, even now.

Daemon comes to the thought of Viserys spilling into you. He comes to the remembrance of how his brother pummeled forward into you and how his sister plummeted down because of him. Daemon thinks about the strain on Viserys' neck as he spasmed into you and how your spine arched as you screamed into the cushions.

Daemon feels his heat shoot out and sputter hotly into his hand. He catches his breath and feels his heart race. His length softens.

He catches his breath as he cranes his neck and checks the mess he's made. He clenches his jaw, irritated by how much of himself he spilled on to his breeches at the thought of his older siblings coupling.

He grunts and angrily sits up. He growls as he stands and rips his clothing off, throwing them onto the floor. His long, light hair bounces by the ends of his shoulder blades as he heads for his bath.

It had been a few years when he caught you and Viserys, and yet the memory was still vivid. It was forever seared into his mind. He was boiling with an unnamable emotion. He was unsure if it was rage, hurt, or envy, but it was burning true.

That day, Daemon he had been looking for you, wanting to gift you a necklace as a remembrance of him for your departure to Essos. It would be one of the many solo travels you'd have since then. And it would be the first time the three of you would be apart, the first time you would be away from Daemon. He wanted so badly to see you that day, and instead he saw treachery in its truest form.

That same day, later that afternoon, as Daemon recounted against himself the unspeakable acts he bore witness to while staring blankly into space in the gardens, the twins came looking for him.

He was repulsed by how you two acted so nonchalant, like everything was normal, like you two hadn't just been fucking in secret, like you had not just been sharing each other's spit and slick. He then hit him like a boulder, that this nonchalance was present because you two had most definitely been going at it long before today.

He is immediately hostile when you reach out for him. Daemon slaps your hand off and threatens. Viserys immediately steps forward as you reel back, and puts Daemon in his place.

Daemon remembers all of this as he washed himself in with a sweet smelling water in his tub.

The smell was reminiscent of you.

He hates it.

He hates that Viserys soiled you. He hates that had taken your maidenhead. He hates that he no inclination to tell their parents that he intended to marry you. He hates that because he wouldn't have done the same. He hates that you seemingly enjoyed being taken advantage of, by your twin, no less. He hates that you touched him with the same hands you used to touch Viserys.

Yet, he hates that he had shoved you away in his disgust. He hates that you had fallen into Viserys' arms because of it. He hates how he had gotten berated by his older brother for hurting you. He hates that he had stormed off after. He hates that he had never given you the necklace. He hates that you had still left on dragon back that day although he was upset with you. He hates that you had incessantly sent him letters, although he never responded.

He hates that you arrive with late today. He hates that he's been so agitated because of how late you were. He hates that Viserys sees through him. He hates that his older brother tries to calm him down. He hates that his words help.

He hates that he comes alive when you emerge. He hates that you cut through the festivities. He hates that your holy halo steals everyone's attention.

He hates that you immediately greet Viserys. He hates that your beloved half drops what he is doing for you. He hates that you embrace Aemma as well. He hates that you so eagerly dote on her.

He hates that you reach your arms out to him, like everything was fine between the two of you. He hates that you pull him for a kiss. He hates that he goes weak. He hates that he nuzzles his face into your neck. He hates that he feels himself twitch in his trousers at the scent of your perfume.

He hates that he missed you. He hates you so much.

Daemon braces you against his chest. He feels you rub your cheek against him. He releases a sigh. You belonged there, against his ribs.

Your long silver hair was wound in curls and braids pinned with shining metals and jewels. The back cut of your red dress went past your shoulder blades, the front was deliciously right above your cleavage. His hand rubbed the curve of your waist, familiar yet so foreign against him. By your nape dangled baby hairs that tickled your skin. He finds jealousy of it. He tickles his nose and lips against your milky neck, making you curl at the feel and giggle in response.

He missed you... so much.

You pull back. Daemon doesn't want you to, but he is powerless against your wishes. You slip from his fingers and he finds it mildly bearable only because you smile at him. You kiss him on the cheek again and tuck his hair behind his ear.

"Skorkydoso ēza ñuha valonqar issare?" you coo as you caress his cheek, "ēza Visērȳs issare sȳz naejot ao?" How has my baby brother been? Has Viserys been good to you?

Daemon licks his lips as he watches yours curve into a bigger smile. His violet eyes meet your own as you rub his chin with your thumb. He is a child in your clutch all over again.

"Oh, damn him," Viserys calls from his seat. You and Daemon were standing across him.

With an eye roll, Viserys grabs his chalice of wine and mutters, "he's no better than when he was four, sissy."

Aemma beside him chuckles but says the name of her betrothed in a scolding manner.

Daemon watches as you turn to your twin, "do not insult my darling, you imbecile."

Your twin turns to you, "pah! I will say what I want about the fucker. It is my day, you brat!" He points a finger, "kessa daor sagon pryjata ondoso ñuha idaña." It will not be ruined by my twin.

Daemon turns to Viserys as you scoff.

"And pray tell, what will you do about your bratty twin, Viserys?" you raise a brow in challenge.

Viserys smirks and leans back on his seat, "I'll have her over knee and discipline her like when we were younger."

Daemon clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth could break.

Aemma laughs and slaps his shoulder, "hush, love. You will do no such thing. Much less on our wedding day."

Daemon thought Aemma looked none the wiser as she said that. He looks at Viserys, catching a darkness behind his eyes, then back to you, finding the same shadow. You roll your eyes at him. It takes everything in Daemon not to burst at the seams. If only Aemma knew. Gods be good, his tongue itched to finally be granted retaliation.

But he couldn't do that. He couldn't do that to his dear cousin, Aemma, at her wedding. Seven hells, he couldn't even do that to Viserys, though he loathed him so. But most of all, he couldn't do that to you.

So he kept his mouth shut.

You release a sigh and click your tongue at Viserys.

"Ahh, my love," you turn to Aemma, "how joyous yet tragic that you will deal with him for the rest of your life."

Aemma holds back her giggles, "well, it's not like you will be able to rid of him entirely either, my princess."

You grin form ear to ear as your eyes dart back to Viserys, "an unfortunate truth."

Your twin takes his turn to roll his eyes.

Suddenly, you grab Daemon's hand and reach out the other to Viserys, "might my brothers indulge their favorite sister to a dance?"

Daemon's ears perk. He quickly pulls you into him, but you repel him slightly, wanting the eldest to join in. He eyes Viserys, mentally telling him to decline the offer.

Viserys raises his brows, "you're our only sister."

"Precisely," you purse your lips.

"And you're quite irritating," he adds, earning another scold from Aemma.

Aemma leans into him, "come now, my love. Your sister has traveled far to attend to our day. The least you can do is share a dance with her."

Viserys turns to Aemma, face softening at her lilac doe eyes. He sighs then stands, turning to you and Daemon, "fine. But I shall make it a point to step on your toes."

You cock your head to the side, "funny. You're acting as though you are capable of anything but."

Daemon sizes up to Viserys as he approaches and takes your hand. The eldest catches his expression and scoffs, "oh, bugger, I will not steal your sister from you, Daemon. She's all yours."

Daemon seethes, and yet before he can bark anything back, you yank both of them to the dance floor and eye both of them hotly, "I will not have my brothers quarrel on such a lovely morn."

"When have we never not quarreled for your attention, sister," Daemon finds himself retorting with little thought, with little emotion.

"Oh, Daemon," you mutter, leaning into him, "emā dōrī ēdas naejot vīlībagon Visērȳs syt bona." You have never had to fight Viserys for that.

Viserys scoffs out a chuckle, "aye. She would rather feed me to her mount before she ever ignores you."

Daemon begins to bristle at the thought, at the lies his older siblings were shoving down his throat.

The three of you dance to the upbeat music. The two men alternate between steps to fill in as your partner.

As quickly as he was made furious by the words he was just told, he was struck with awe at your form. You danced between them, expertly spinning towards Daemon and Viserys at every other down beat. It was a sight to behold. It was so mesmerizing everyone began to watch.

He had forgotten how good you were at this. How easy it came to you to entertain them because you had always made it a point to dance with both brothers at every occasion. He had forgotten how happy it was to dance with you and Viserys.

Daemon missed you so damn much.

Viserys catches you as you twirl toward him. He places his hands on your waist and glides with you for a whole 8 counts. Afterwards, you continue the steps and move towards Daemon. You and him circle around each other, smiling fondly as you did.

Aemma, from her seat, feels her heart soar at the sight of the siblings making merry in the middle of the room. She was overjoyed that you had caused this shift, that you had made the occasion, and the princes, as sparkle in a way only you could.

Her breath hitches when you catch her gaze as you danced with the two men, both unwilling to avert their eyes from you. They very evidently missed you greatly. She was glad her wedding was a good enough cause for your return. Aemma shifts in her seat when she sees you bite your lips. She missed her beloved cousin as well.

"It was known that Queen Aemma and her good sister were incredibly fond of each other. Their sisterly bond would never be bruised or broken by any issue. Most notably, the princess attended to Queen Aemma whenever she was with child. She would treat the queen's only heir, Rhaenyra, as though she was her own, would mourn the passing of each of the queen's stillborn children, and would be greatly changed after Queen Aemma's sequential death from labors. Her death was a source of strife between the princess and her twin brother, King Viserys." --Excerpt from 'The Blood of the Dragons' by unnamed maester, circa 350 A.C.

Aemma moaned as you kissed her and reached your fingers into her soaking thighs. She grabbed at your hair and you instantly pulled back, swatting her hand away, giving her a stern look, "you'll ruin my braids, lovie."

She sighs as you crawl down body, peppering kisses all over her skin as you did. The fabric of your dress rubbed against her naked form and the bed dipped where you propped your hands and knees as you continued your descent.

Aemma could not help herself and reached out to you again as you sucked on her skin. She rubbed the sleeves of your dress and felt goosebumps form on her chest where your cold necklace dragged down her hot skin.

When her hands involuntarily clawed into your scalp, you pull away, shifting on your knees. You hiss and grab her wrists, giving her a stern look, "filthy bitch. I warned you once before. Don't be naughty or I won't let you come."

Aemma takes in the sight of your swollen lips and licks her own, feeling a pit form in her belly at your beauty.

Viserys, who was lying beside Aemma, feels himself get hard as his sister looks down on his wife.

I tilt my head at her, "I taught you how to be a good girl, didn't I? Hmm?"

Aemma nods slowly.

"Then be a good girl," you slap her wet folds, making her yelp, "and hold up my hair while I feast on your pretty cunny," you purr, kissing Aemma's left breast as you gathered your long hair up.

Aemma shudders and takes your hair in her hands, curling up slightly as you travelled south.

The sound Aemma makes when you kiss her tenderness makes Viserys' cock twitch. He heaves as he watches you rub your nose into her pearl and grab her supple thighs, willingly squeezing your cheeks between them.

Aemma calls out your name hoarsly. Viserys calms himself, remembering he promised to only watch as you gave your good sister her wedding gift.

Aemma's back arches as you work your tongue into her. She cannot help but rip at your hair though she tries her best not to.

"So sweet, and all mine," you purr, "isn't that right, Aemma?"

Aemma coils in her spot and screws her eyes shut. She knows she will be in trouble if agrees, she knows she will be in trouble if she doesn't, and she knows she will be in trouble if she keeps her silence. So, she responds with what is best for her in that moment, "yes."

You lift your eyes, feeling yourself grow damp at the sight of her wantonness, "yes what?"

"Kessa, ñuha dāria, Iksan aōhon," Aemma sighs. Yes, my queen, I am yours.

You moan, wild for the sound of High Valyrian, and chuckle darkly, eating her out more eagerly, "sȳz riña." Good girl.

Aemma screams when she feels your teeth nip at her.

Viserys had had enough at that point.

He climbs off the bed and walks behind you with his raging erection. Neither of you seem to notice, but you finally do when he rips your skirt up and rubs his tip into your pulsing heat.

Aemma's eyes break open as you pull away from her to look behind, "you filthy fuck, I s--"

You do not continue because your words are sliced in half by the lewd moan that rips out of your mouth when Viserys thrusts into you. You feel two pulses in you, your own and his. He grunts when he feels you clench around him.

He feels different, snugger inside you somehow. You brush it off to the fact it has been a while since you've had him.

"I promised to only watch my beloved as you tongue fuck her--" Viserys leans down and takes your hair from Aemma. She gratefully releases it and reaches out for your cheeks, wordlessly begging you to attend to her again.

"--but I did not say I wouldn't touch you, pretty whore," he smiles as he begins to thrust a rough pace.

You squirm and tighten your grip onto Aemma's thighs as he does this.

"Jikagon va, rene" he pants, "kesā daor gaomagon ñuha ābrazȳrys isse jaelagon." Go on, slut. You will not keep my wife in want.

Aemma licks her lips at the sight of her husband fucking you in front of her. She feels her core flutter at the familiarity. She feels her pulse in her core more prominently now. She places the back of her knee onto your shoulder, breathily begging, "please."

You whimper as you turn back to Aemma and huff hotly onto her flesh.

And so as you feasted on Aemma's weeping womanhood, you were battered by Viserys' angry manhood.

The sounds in the air were obscene, squelching, delirious, and as you all slowly rode toward your highs, Viserys made it a point to make it difficult for you.

He yanks at your hair and makes eye contact with Aemma, "you will come when I do, but this bitch between us will not."

You lift your head upon hearing that, but Viserys pushes you down, making Aemma yelp at the way your face digs into her. You pull up to catch a breath, lest you suffocate on princess cunt. It wouldn't be the worst way to die.

"Did you not say that I shouldn't waste my seed, sister," Viserys taunts as he quickens his pace, "I will throw you to the side and come in Aemma's pretty cunny, as I should-- as you said I should," his hands reach between your thighs and begins to rub you there, "līvi ȳdra daor māzigon." Whores don't come.

Aemma whines when you begin to slow your pace and desperately lifts her hips up for more friction.

The sound of her helpless whines send a spiral through your belly. You would not dare leave your darling girl unsatisfied. Aemma is grateful that you begin lapping eagerly at her again.

"What say you, come slut?" Viserys hisses, "you have quarrels with your king?"

You groan when Viserys begins to rub your sensitive nub harsly, making Aemma, in turn, squeak.

You're in no place to pick a fight with him and so you breath against Aemma, "inside."

Viserys' ego inflates, "skoros iksin bona?" What was that?

"Iemnȳ, Visērȳs, kostilus." Inside, Viserys, please.

He smirks, "Iemnȳ qilōni?" Inside who?

"Iemnȳ nyke." Inside me.

Aemma's breath strains as she opens her eyes. She does not want to miss this.

Viserys laughs, "greedy little stupid whore," he slaps your ass, "maybe I should fuck a babe into you too. Maybe then you'd cease with your slutty urges."

You take out your frustrations on Aemma. She loves it.

"Aemma wouldn't mind, wouldn't you darling?" Viserys says, "you want to grow a babe the same time as your good sister?"

Aemma whines and nods, "yes! Yes."

Viserys imagines the sight of his two girls filled with his seed, carrying his children, "mmm, fuck."

Suddenly you're all coming.

It was unintended, but the gods made it be. The three of you shiver and spill into each other. The room is heated with your breath and your voices echo through the chamber. Aemma is the loudest, a high pitched squeal ripping through her throat. You shake and squirm, glad to have gotten Aemma spasming beneath you as you spasm above her yourself. Viserys grunts as he digs his fingers into your hips as he bottoms out.

The white noise that plays is one of pure bliss.

When Viserys pulls out, he carelessly drops your hair onto your right shoulder and then jumps beside Aemma as he catches his breath.

You lift your head and look at Aemma who is staring at you with blown eyes. You smile at her and kiss her navel, "like my gift, pretty girl?"

Aemma nods as she heaves, "yesyes," she sighs, "thank you, my love."

You feel your skirt fall down your legs as you crawl over Aemma to kiss her on her lips. Her tongue darts out onto your wet ones, relishing the taste of her on you.

When you pull away, you wipe your lips then slap your damp hand onto Viserys chest with a fury, "stupid fuck."

Viserys yelps and recoils at the harsh assault but breaks into a laugh. He pulls Aemma into his chest as your crawl off the bed, "what?" he asks innocently as he kisses Aemma's temple, eyes not leaving you at all, "I did what you begged me to, darling."

You stand and walk over to dresser, grabbing yourself a damp piece of cloth stationed there, wiping yourself down, "you'll fuck a babe into me, will you?"

Viserys laughs. You roll your eyes as you look at your reflection on the vanity.

"What?" he says again, "Aemma truly wouldn't mind, wouldn't you, lover?" Viserys turns to her as Aemma turns to him.

Aemma, no longer drunk with lust, makes a face.

You answer for her, "you would let me mother a bastard like a true whore, brother?" You eye him as you lift your skirt and wipe the evidence Viserys left in you, "that's not very prince-like of you." You chuck the towel at him after cleaning yourself, "but then again, you've always been the bigger whore between the two of us."

Viserys tires to dodge the towel, but he does not.

Aemma turns to you and offers a smile, "she is right, Viserys. As much as I would love to have children with her, I would not have her be ostracized for it."

You smile back at Aemma and walk over to her, pushing your hair back as you lean in to give her another kiss.

Viserys watches as you do this then mutters, "then I would make her my second wife."

You pull away from Aemma and roll your eyes yet again, "I will be no ones second."

The married couple watches as you walk away. The man calls out, "you're my second! Second in birth, second in life, my sweet half."

"No, I was your first," you correct sternly, heading for the door, "you married your second." You turn over your shoulder to add, "no offence, Aemma."

Aemma shakes her head, "I am honored to be both your seconds."

With that, you give them one last look and open the door, "enjoy your marriage."

Aemma leans into Viserys shoulder and smile. The latter answers, "there is talk that I will ascend grandfather's throne. I will wed you then, sister."

You roll your eyes and close the door, loudly calling out, "goodbye, brother."

You begin to venture down the halls and find yourself strolling down the gardens. You feel of the breeze on your skin and breathe in deeply the fragrance of the flowers. You smile to yourself, shutting your eyes as you basked in he sunlight.

You had gone a great many places, yet still, there was no place like home.

"There you are," a voice calls. Soon after a hand comes to your back. It doesn't take long for your to figure out who it its. "I have been looking for you everywhere."

You open your eyes and smile at Daemon, "and I was just looking for you."

You watch as Daemon's lips curl into a smile. You catch how he tries to hide how pleased he is by the sentiment. You push his hair away as the wind blows it to his face, "I thought you would be off on dragonback."

Daemon purses his lips. How could you possibly know that was his plans?

You chuckle at his expression and link your arms with his, "you've forgotten I'm always right."

"Well, I was about to," he leans into you, a grin playing on his lips, "but then I thought it would be better if I had you to accompany me."

"Dōna valītsos," sweet boy. You smile and nod, "I would love to ride with you."

Your younger brother and you begin to leisurely stroll down the area, savoring the weather as well as each other's presence.

You press your cheek upon Daemon's shoulder, "I am certain Alaerion will enjoy riding with you and Caraxes again. She hates being bound or caged, but she was excited to go back to the pit after being away for long."

Daemon feels his chest swell with joy upon hearing that. "I am excited to see her too. It's been a while since red and indigo graced the skies together."

As you make your way to the dragon pit, you are intercepted by an unexpected face. You halt in your tracks, stopping Daemon along with you, upon seeing the man in green across us.

The man stops as well and immediately greets you with a reverent bow, "your majesties."

"Otto," you mutter with a surprised smile. Daemon eyes this Otto persona as he rises, violet eyes immediately poking daggers into his form.

You break away from your brother and push your hair behind you, "what brings you to King's Landing?" you tilt my head to the side, "it's an awful long way from Old Town."

Daemon clenches his jaw tightly as Otto steps forward. It was all to clear to him that the cunt was smitten by you.

"I have been offered a position to represent my house in the small council," he presses his lips into the faintest of smiles, "I have merely accepted the honor."

"Ah," you lift your nose, "I see."

Daemon comes to your side and pulls you into him. His stare does not leave Otto, and soon enough his violet eyes lock with his green ones.

You topple into Daemon due to the force of his action, but you do not mind. You enjoy how you are roughly handled by your brothers, more often than not. You bring your arm around Daemon as he rubs your side.

Otto blankly stares. Daemon notices the clench of his jaw. You notice the building tension and break it.

"May I present Prince Daemon Targaryen," you announce, though you do not turn away from Otto, "rider of Caraxes, and my darling baby brother."

"It is an honor to meet your acquaintance, prince Daemon," Otto bows in regard.

Daemon turns to you just as you turn to him and offer a mischievous expression.

Daemon's eye twitches. Him? Really?

"Darling, this is Lord Otto Hightower," you speak to your brother, though your eyes go back to the said man. You finally notice how Otto clenches his jaw as he smiles and nods at the prince.

You turn back to Daemon. Your brows furrowing at the sight of the lines on his forehead. Hmm. Odd.

"He was a friend I made during my tours in Citadel," you reach out to his face and rub on the creases forming on his skin.

Daemon breaks his hard gaze from Otto, and softens when he turns to you.

"He was kind to me, and even spoke on my behalf to see the place, though he was actually sent to escort me away. He, himself, is adamant a woman had no business at the place," you turn back to Otto, "but I think I have become the exception."

Otto turns to you and instantly croaks out, "not an exception, princess. I would much rather lose my honor than subject a woman like you to the life lead by a maester--"

You laugh.

"--but I am not a man without reason," he shifts on his spot, "you told me your stance and I was moved by your case. I merely spoke what you told me to the Grand Maesters, thus allowing you to tour Citadel freely."

"And I am thankful for your services," you give a lopsided smirk, "I was beginning to think my travels would have been for naught had you not..." you trail off, "come."

Daemon's ears clap. He grinds his teeth as he watches Otto's reactions closely. The prince's nostrils flare at his poker face. The fuck does not betray himself at all, and it makes Daemon's insides boil. He will kill him the moment he does betray himself, and Dark Sister will enjoy the blood bath.

Otto is nonchalant even as he to turns to your brother. And when he does, you speak again, "I look forward to seeing you around, Otto," you smile, making the brown haired man turn back to you.

"My brother and I will be taking our dragons for a ride," you raise a brow, "perhaps you would like to join us."

Daemon face falls as he hears your offer. He look to you in betrayal and disbelief.

You feel the hot gaze of your brother.

Otto as he pipes up, "I would not like to intrude upon you and your brother, your grace."

"Come now," you speak to him, though you tilt your head at Daemon, "I'm sure my beloved brother can find it in his heart to bring you along."

Daemon stiffens as he stares at you.

You hold back a laugh and point to Otto, "surely Caraxes wouldn't mind if he dangled beneath his belly, Daemon."

Daemon pulls his head back.

Otto does so too, then his eyes widen at the insinuation.

The prince suddenly breaks into a toothy grin and laughs with his whole chest. You follow suit.

Daemon turns back to the lord, "sissy's right," he raises a hand jovially, "my boy would appreciate a live necklace. And I think you would make quite an amusing one."

Otto grunts where the Targaryens giggle.

Daemon leans into you as he laughs and you shake your head at his exaggerated movements. You sigh and turn back to Otto, "I jest, Lord Hightower. Very truly, I agree that anyone who wishes to squeeze between Daemon and I would be intruding."

Daemon catches his breath and finds himself kissing your cheek. You turn to him, smiling at his affection. He pulls you in close.

"We must away," you turn to Otto, offering a final smile, "I look forward to seeing you around, my lord."

Daemon's smile flattens when he hears Otto's oily response, "as do I, my princess."

"It was no secret that Lord Otto Hightower was repelled by Prince Daemon Targaryen, just as he repelled the latter. When the prince's brother ascended as king and announced Lord Otto as his Lord Hand, tensions grew between all of the mentioned parties. Though many could attribute their dislike for another to the Rogue Prince's uncouth tendencies and the Lord Hand's disapproval of it, there are a great many rumors that say their conflict was borne out of their mutual desire for Lone Woman of Citadel, The Fanged Beauty, the Princess-" --Excerpt from 'The Histories of the Hightowers' by Lord Baelor Hightower & Maester Lucien, 209 A.C.

You had been in the middle of getting ready for the day when there was a knock on the door. You were sat on a chair in front of your vanity in nothing but your shift dress, combing your silver tresses. You pulled up the neckline of your soft, thin dress as you awaited whoever wanted to seek entrance. A moment later, it was clear it was not your a servant because they did not immediately announce themselves.

You turned from the reflection of the door to the door itself from over your bare shoulder. You continue to brush your silver hair and smooth it out with fragrant oils.

"Who is it?"

"Who would dare intrude on the princess as she dressed?"

You smile upon hearing the voice. You turn back to your reflection and call out, "go away then, Dae-dae."

The doors break open and in comes a grinning Daemon, "I will do no such thing, sissy."

You snort as you watch him walk over from the mirror. You set your brush down and turn to him as he leans down and brushes your hair to the side. He kisses your neck then takes your hand and kisses the visible blue veins there. You chuckle and roll your eyes, "alright, what have you done?"

Daemon smirks and pulls away, walking over to your bed, "I have no idea what you mean."

Your eyes follow him as he sits at the side of your bed, crossing his arms, looking out to you with a rascal look.

You take in his attire, the sharply cut leather of his top that complimented his figure, his shiny black boots and his snug pants. He has grown to be a dashing man, you think. You smile fondly at him and lean your head into your hand, "you nary show me affection simply because you want to, Daemy."

He cringes at the nickname; that being the one he really did not like. You enjoy it so precisely because of the fact. You bubble in amusement of his face.

Daemon leans on the headboard, "is it a crime to want a change of pace then?"

You shake your head and roll your eyes, "not at all, my love."

His stomach rolls at the pet name.

Daemon does nothing but watch you after that.

He watches as you throw your hair behind your shoulders, as you lather your skin with lotions, as you paint your skin with rouge. He jumps off the bed when you grab a necklace and attempt to put it on. He eagerly mutters, "let me."

You turn to him as he circles behind you, handing him the gold chain with blue jewels. You gather your hair up, looking at his reflection as he fixed the necklace upon your throat.

Daemon makes it a point to brush the back of his hand against your jaw and nape as he hooks the piece of jewelry around you. Once it is fastened he takes your hair and smooths it down, "gevie." Beautiful.

His attention is focused solely on stroking your hair so he does not see that you smile at his reflection as you say, "hae issi ao, lēkia." As are you, brother.

He ceases his actions upon hearing that. He stills in his spot for a long moment. Your smile fades when he remains rigid too many seconds too long. You straighten up and blink rapidly a few times. You decide to break into smile and tease, "I should ready myself for the flock of ladies that will throw themselves at you."

Daemon finally turns to you, or rather your reflection.

You tease further, grin growing, "and perhaps I should ready potential matches for you, my prince."

You reach out for your earrings and begin to put them on. You offer him a playful look as you do so. You freeze at his response.

"What about you?"

You furrow your brows and hook your golden earrings to your ear, "what about me?"

Daemon watches as you put on your other earring then turn on your chair to face him. He looks down on you and shifts on his leg. He links his hands in front of him, "you are four years my senior. You are a woman," he reaches out to your cheek, "my woman."

You raise a brow at his words.

"If anything tis I that should be fussing over your matches, princess."

You close your eyes as you chuckle softly. You take his hand and look back at him, "oh, my baby. You needn't fuss. You needn't ever fuss about me at all," you shake your head, "ever."

Daemon's gaze is locked upon you as you stand and kiss his knuckles. You tilt your head at him and bring your hands down. You pout softly, "or have you forgotten how formidable your sissy is? Lest you forget, I will remind I broke your baby teeth because you wanted to steal the pony father gifted me."

Daemon cannot help the snort that leaves him and looks away from you. You find yourself smiling at his reaction.

"I will fuss over you. I will care for you. You are my responsibility, Daemon. Twas I that promised mother-" you suck in a breath, "that you would not be without one when she-"

"But I am not your baby!" Daemon snaps at you, "I am not a child and I have no need of your coddling anymore!" he quips, yanking his hands out your own.

The action, though not physically painful, hurt you deeply. You immediately feel your chest tighten as he walks away from you. He head to your bed again but does not sit and just stands by its side, back turned to you, "you overcompensate your mollifying for the time you've spent away from me. I despise it." He turns back to you, eyes very suddenly red with hurt and anger, "you say you care for me, but you leave me for many moons and stay for but a few days!"

You feel your throat constrict at his accusing tone, "I send ravens for you every--"

"YOU THINK I WANT YOUR FUCKING LETTERS?!" Daemon bursts as he marches over to you, gripping your shoulders tightly.

You look at him in bewilderment, and soon enough, your eyes begin to glass. Daemon watches your tears spill and your lips quiver.

"So... that is why you never respond to me."

Daemon's forehead wrinkles and he releases your shoulders. He drops his head and huffs, "that's not what I meant."

You release a deep breath, "then what do you mean?"

"I-" he lifts his face slowly, reluctantly looking at you, "I do not want this from you."

His words stab at you deeper. You shake your head and clutch your chest, "you no longer want me to care for you? Is that what you want?!"

"No," he weakly retorts, grabbing your hands, squeezing them tightly. His knees buckle, "that's not what I want."

"Then tell me what you want!" you cry out, "do not speak hurtful things to me like you did once before then never explain why."

Daemon recalls that day. That day he meant to give you a necklace but never did. He looks at the one on your neck now then remembers where he stashed away the object that reminded him of you and Viserys' treachery. He blinks as he brings your hands to his face, "I want you to love me the way I love you."

You caress his cheeks and shake your head, unsure of what to say, "I love you so much, Daemon."

Daemon furrows his brows and straightens, rubbing your arms back and forth. "I want you to love me like you love Viserys," he heaves heavily and takes your pulse to kiss it, "but I want you to love me more."

"Oh, Daemon," you rub his cheeks with your thumb, "I already love you more than I love Viserys. I always have loved you more, since the day you were born."

Daemon heaves heavily upon hearing that, anger and frustration building within him.

When you pull him in to kiss him, he leans towards your mouth, but so swiftly bring his head down and kiss his forehead instead.

It destroys him.

He shoves you away and you look at him like a deer that's just gotten shot. He gives you one last look before storming away.

You call out to him in hopes of stopping him. You so badly wanted to chase after him, but you were too afraid that he would shove off all over again, and things would end the same way the ended the first time you got into such argument. You did not want to go through all of that for the second time. So you let him leave.

Daemon looks over his shoulder as he storms off, laughing bitterly at the lack of calls. So, you don't care enough to follow after, huh?

After you got dressed, you quickly look for Viserys, eager to spill speak your woes, but when you found him, you see a great many Lords discussing many things with him. Undoubtedly they were trying to get into his good graces for he was now unofficially the heir to the Iron Throne.

You would not interrupt him at this time. You did not want all of those Lords to see you in this state anyway.

So instead, you find yourself seeking solitude in the small shrine room for the Seven. There you knelt before the bust of the Mother and wept to her, praying for comfort.

You do not realize someone knelt next to you until he speaks.

You gasp and turn to your right. Otto Hightower mutters a prayer, "I pray the Mother will give comfort for our sorrows and wipe away our tears."

You release a breath and you take in his closed eyes. You turn to the statue.

"I pray that she guide us through our heartache, that we may find peace."

You sniffle and look to your linked fingers, "will you pray for me as well, Otto?"

Otto turns to you and responds, "I am praying for you, my princess."

You hold back your tears as you meet his gaze. Otto's solemn expression falls even more grave when he sees the tears streak your cheeks.

You whimper and give him a sad smile, "thank you, my lord."

Otto continues to pray for you, pacing his prayers to your breathing. By the time you've calmed down, he ends his supplication to the gods. His heart is heavy as he looks at you. So badly, he wishes to dry your tears.

Otto clenches his jaw, "we can continue to pray, or, if you'd like," he turns to the statue of the Mother, "you can vent your sorrows to me. Perhaps I could do something to... remedy your issue."

You release a soft chuckle. You turn to him with a soft smile and nod your head, "I would be grateful if you listened as I spoke my troubles."

Otto looks back upon you, taking in your undone hair and your pink face. Whichever fool dare wronged you will not rest easy.

"I only need you to listen," you nod quicker, "that is all. I would not require you to do anything for me, Otto."

Otto thinks he would do anything for you. He would kill for you. He does not say that though and only shifts on his spot, turning his whole attention to you. He offers you his hand in comfort.

You gratefully take it and shift closer to him.

Otto wishes to wipe your soft cheeks but he knows that if he does so, he will not be able to hold himself back from doing his other urges, ones that were far less noble and descent. After all, he sneaks a look to his side, the Mother is watching.

"My brother and I got into an argument," you sigh as you look at him through tear laced eyes.

Otto knows exactly which brother you were referring to and yet he still asks, "your twin, or your... baby brother?"

You wipe your face roughly, "I argued with Daemon."

"Mmm," he hums, "prince Daemon is a rather rugged character. I cannot say I am surprised by his actions."

You feel a protective anger surge through you. You glare at him and pull your hand away.

The sentiment strikes through him.

"You are supposed to be listening, are you not?"

Otto does not respond.

"I do not need you to weigh in on my brother's character. I know his far tendencies better than anyone else."

Otto submits and bow his head, "forgive me for my crassness, your grace."

You turn away from him and look up to the face of the Mother before you.

He watches the tears continue to fall from your violet eyes. Fucking Daemon Targaryen. He takes in how silver strands of your precious silver hair cascade over your face and shoulders and thinks you are Mother incarnate. He draws in a deep breath to calm himself and to rip of all the unholy thoughts that were building in his head.

"He cuts me so deeply, Otto," you mumble, "I love him dearly," your lips quiver, "I only want the best for him, but it's like... it's like-- it's never enough. It's like my love is not enough. It's like I am not enough. I cannot be me. I cannot want the best for me..." you turn back to him, "I want to see the world with Alaerion. I want to feel the wind in my hair. I want-" you choke, "... he spurns me for my want."

You shake your head and try to hold back a fiercer wave of tears that threaten to spill out of you. You cannot help that you break and crumble into your hands.

The lord cannot help himself any longer either, and pulls you into him as you weep in sadness. You clutch him tightly and pour your heart out into his chest. He shushes you, strokes your hair, and pats your back.

You both end up sitting on the floor to better accommodate your shared embrace. It was still pretty uncomfortable, but both your knees were grateful for the change of position.

He feels the way you shake your head against him.

You sigh, "I'm sure you scoff at my ideas," you pull away from him. Your hands go to his shoulders, "you do not agree that mere women are meant to do such things."

"But you are not a mere woman," Otto clutches your cheeks, "you are a Targaryen princess," he wipes your tears away, "you are closer to the gods than men," he shakes his head, "you do not crumble, you conquer."

Your lips part at his words. No more tears fall from your eyes after.

"Do not waste your energy on a boy who does not recognize you as what you are," he says, hands slowly going down your neck.

You take in a deep breath. You shift on your spot, "and what exactly am I?"

Otto swallows a lump in his throat as you crawl onto him and straddle his lap. Immediately, he feels his pulse in his trousers, and though his eyes momentarily flick to the Mother behind you, he does not make any attempt to push you off. You were the Mother. He nearly tells you this, but manages not to. Instead he speaks as he swipes the pad of his thumb to your pink lips, moist with tears, "a queen."

You place take his hands in yours and lift your nose, "you would make me your queen?"

"You are already my queen," he mutters under his breath. He sits up straighter and brings his hands to the swell of your hips, adjusting you atop him. Your own hands go back to his shoulders again. Otto adds, "I would make you whatever you desire."

You lean into him until your foreheads were pressed together. He makes a sound when your hot breath hits his face.

"And what would you do to be able to give me my desires?" you say this in slightly amused tone. You say this to taunt him.

Otto knows this, but he doesn't care. He answers seriously regardless, "whatever it takes."

His soul nearly leaves him when you whimper.

Right after you make that sound, he traps your mouth against his. You instantly lean into him and moan at his warmth. Your fingers scratch up to his collar, then they dig into the roots of his dark hair. He, himself, moans when you tug firmly.

Otto wastes no more time and quickly digs into your skirts, ripping them up until he had access to the softness between your thighs. Sweet mother, he's missed you. He eagerly touches your core and it makes you break away from him, in lieu of groaning as you leaned into his shoulder.

He's gotten practice since the last time you've met. You being his first, he quite clumsy with his touch. You did not get to teach him much in Citadel, for your escapades were always rushed and unplanned, not unlike what it was this very moment. He made it a point to get better though, knowing he'd see you again once he got to King's Landing.

"Seven fucking hells," you mutter against his ear as your one hand squeezes his bicep.

Otto rubs his cheek into yours and whispers, "feels good, doesn't it? I've practiced for you."

You squeal as rubs his fingers in purposeful circles and maneuvers according to your reaction. He feels you pull his arm closer, so teases a finger into you. Instantly, you let out a sharp moan and whimper. The sound of his name echoes through the shrine and it was the holiest thing he had ever heard.

His other arm hand goes around your torso and secures you in place, "I will make you feel better, my queen."

You moan against his neck and suckle on his skin there. You begin to rock your hips into him as you begin to weep from your cunt.

When he feels you dripping, he finally slips a fingers into you, and you groan at the feel of. He nips at your earlobe and works into you in a similar pace that you buck yourself to.

"More," you mewl.

He adds another finger.

He feels himself grow harder than he already was. It begins to feel uncomfortable, but he rather liked hearing you make the noises you were making.

You push his arm off, making him grow rigid. You shake your head and kiss his lips. You did like the way he was stretching you out, but that was not enough.

Otto's actions slowly grow reluctant because of your head shake. You dive your hands into your skirts and sigh softly, "need you now, Otto."

He immediately perks, in more ways than one, and helps you as you grab onto his pants.

The moment he is free, you feel your cunt clench and your mouth water at the sight of his throbbing cock.

You waste no time and quickly lift yourself up and mount him through a strangled breath.

He spirals with a string of veneration, praising the Mother for the glorious feeling of your soaking heat. He grips your hips for dear life as you slowly begin to fuck yourself on him. Holy, holy, holy.

"Do I feel good, Otto?"

Otto grunts and tightens his old on him, helping you with your bouncing, "so good, my queen. So good, my love."

You whimper at the sound of his endearment. You bite your lip and grab his face, forcing him to look at you. You heavily pant, "you going to fuck me good in front of Mother?"

His eyes widen then dart away from your momentarily. He does not respond.

You do not like that.

You clench your jaw and bring your thumbs to his parted mouth. You dig your fingers into his teeth and push his jaw down, "I asked you a question, boy," you heave, "will dare ignore your queen?"

Otto lets out a guttural noise at the sound of your words and chokes when he feels clenching around him. He breathlessly responds the moment you pull your thumbs out of his mouth, "no, my queen."

You let out a grunt when he begins to match your movements with upward thrusts. You drag out a prolonged exhale and rub your nose against his, "then what, you sycophant?"

He heaves.

"What will you do to me, church boy?"

Otto growls and digs his fingers into your waist. He digs his heels into the floor, allowing him to ram himself into you with more ease and viciousness. The squeaks and yelps that leave your throat adds further fuel to the flames into his body. He attaches his teeth to your neck and bites down. He hotly speaks against you, "I'm going to fuck you good in front of Mother."

You moan and throw your head back as his movements begin to grow more erratic that your own. Otto yanks at the neckline of your dress and claws at your breasts that threaten to spill out. He hungrily stuffs his face into that spot. As he does so, he unintentionally breaks off the gold chain on your neck and the thing trickles down your cleavage.

Otto pull away tp stick his fingers into your top and fishes for the thing. You you take his face and push him back into your chest. He brings his hands underneath your skirt and squeezes your bare thighs.

"I'm close, Otto," you whine, finally finding his tempo as you maneuvered over him.

Otto licks the skin from your sternum up to your collarbone, then kisses all the way up to your jaw, " 'm fucking you good enough then."

You groan and dig your hands into his hair . You pull at his brown locks as you sigh, "so good."

When he comes, he says a rough prayer of thanks to the Seven under his breath. The feel of his spilling into you and the sight of his rolled eyes, paired with the sound of his prayer was so twistedly delicious that you come a few second later.

"Vaogenka līve," you whimper as you continue to ride your high, "ao rattan bisa tolī olvie." Dirty whore, you liked this too much.

Otto does not stop in his movements, as the overachiever he was, though it was quickly beginning to be painful for him. He literally pushes through it and only stops until you begin to squirm. Even then he makes it a point to roughly flick his hips before finally stopping to catch his breath.

You go jelly against him and defeatedly lean into his chest as you even your heavy pants.

Otto rubs your thighs and nestles his face against yours, relishing the feel of your heartbeat.

You brush his hair away and kiss his ear, "what would your gods say about the sinful acts you've been doing in their temple with the princess?"

Otto kneads at your thighs and it is only then that you feel there is something in his clutch. He huffs, "my faithful servant is a man of duty," he looks upon your face, "he is most loyal to the crown and has gone to great lengths to assure it's... contentment."

Your lips curve into a smile, "great lengths, you say."

Otto leans in and nips at your lip, "a humble length."

You giggle, and as does he. He cannot help but moan at the feel of your clenching around him because of it. He then pulls his hands out of your skirt and wraps his arms around you.

"I broke off your necklace, princess," he mutters through a kiss on your neck.

You hum, "I think that is treason."

Otto bites at your neck, "and what is your sentence?"

You moan at the feel of his tongue on your pulse. You comb through his hair, "mmm, fuck me good in front of the Father."

His laugh echoes across the room. The feel of his amusement vibrating into your core begins to excite you all over again.

"Filthy girl," he whispers.

"You're worse than I," you retort.

"Mmm," he pushes your hair back and takes in the shimmer of your face, "then I ought to replace your necklace only to be able to rip it off you again when I make you come in the shrine of the Father."

You give him a wicked smile and shake your head, "see... you're worse than me."

"Well, I learned from the worst," he kisses your shoulder.

"One of the first issues King Viserys took up when he ascended was that his twin sister. Many frowned upon the fact she was inching past the age where a well-bred lady ought to be married, and yet still went off on tours with her dragon mount. It was no secret the princess was a free spirit. Beyond her renowned and well-documented travels across Westeros and beyond, it is said she left trails of broken hearts and longing lovers, all willing to offer their inheritance and very souls in exchange for her hand. Many a man came to contend for the honor of being her husband, but there were less than a few that were even considered. In the end, her only real prospects were Otto Hightower, the hand of the king, Daemon Targaryen, the brother of the king, and Viserys Targaryen, the king himself." --Excerpt from 'Chapter 3: The Fanged Beauty' of 'The Lone Woman of Citadel' by Grand Maester Mateos, 354 A.C.

Daemon was ignoring you.

He was choosing to ignore you.

It was not a coincidence, it was an active choice.

Perhaps it was believable the first few times that, when you walked in a room, he was leaving, but then the days passed and you made attempts to seek your brother out. You called to him only to be shunned.

You were set to leave again, soon. Daemon knew this. He found no point in facing you if you would leave him all over again.

Yet things after this would happen so quickly. Your grandfather would order you to stay for the proclamation of his heir, he would pass come days later, and your twin would then be named king, your younger brother, his heir.

You thought that the rift between you and Daemon would ultimately repair itself as it did before, but he was difficult with everyone, with you especially. Now it's come to a point where you no longer speak, you only argue.

And now, there was a storm between you, both real and not.

The hour grows late and the rain has become more brutal. You waited by the keep's entrance for your younger brother that had left early morning and yet still has not arrived. With every roll of thunder, you grew increasingly worried.

"We will bring him back, your grace," Ser Harrold Westerling assures you for the hundredth time, ceaselessly patient with you.

You clench your jaw and nod as you pace around, "Caraxes would be in more unrest if something had happened to his rider, but he is calm in his pit, so I am calm."

Ser Harrols sighs at your words. A disingenous and unconvincing sentiment.

You say this mostly for yourself but still, the commander of the kingsguard nods, "aye."

You huff and nod as you pace around some more. A crack of lightening makes you begin to worry now for the guards that have been deployed to look for the heir apparent. You suck in a breath and take Ser Harrold's arm, "what if something happened to your men? Dear gods, I wou-"

"My men are capable of caring for themselves, princess," he speaks calmly, placing a hand atop on your own. You nod rapidly at his words and pull away from him. He catches your arm before you do, "your grace."

You turn back to him.

"Pardon me, but it has been hours since you've been pacing."

You give him a guilty expression, "yes... Forgive me, ser Harrold. You may leave if--"

"Perhaps you ought to sit-"

His words are cut off by the sound of the gates opening. You both look to the door in anticipation. In comes a wet prince, dripping in rain water from head to toe.

"Gods be good," Ser Harrold speaks as you pull away from him and rush towards Daemon.

Expecting him to come in soaking, you grab the towel you had prepared and immediately wipe his face, "skoriot se qogralbar emagon ao issare?" Where the fuck have you been?

Daemon stills as he looks you. He lets you wipe his soaked face and hair for a few seconds before he rips the towel away from you and throws it off to a distance.

You turn to where he discards the item and Daemon walks away from you.

"Ȳdra daor geron qrīdrughagon hen nyke," you seethe under your breath. He does not stop. You snap, repeating much louder, "DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!"

Ser Harrold watches as the prince stops in his tracks. He watches as Daemon heaves heavily as his sister walks up from behind him. He knows this will be a long and brutal sermon.

"Emā daor paktot naejot gaomagon bisa, valītsos," you hiss as you march in front of him, "ao daor gaomagon daor sytilībagon naejot aōla. Iksā dārilaros naejot se Dēmalion Āegenko."

You have no right to do this, boy. You no do not belong to yourself. You are heir to the Iron Throne

Daemon's soaked hair sticks to the side of his face. Rain water drips to the floor as he laughs at your words. He steps forward and snatches your arms, yanking you into him.

Your clothes immediately absorb the water in his. His angry breath fans against your face, "pār gaomagon daor vēdros nyke, iā eminna ao ilzitan hen."

Then do not anger me, or I will have you thrown out.

Your expression drops upon hearing this. You are at a loss for words at his blazing admission.

Daemon shoves you off and walks past you; your shoulders collide with each other as he storms off. You gulp heavily as you watch him leave puddles of murky water behind. There is an ominous crack of thunder.

"Then I'll save you the trouble and leave on the morrow," you call out as your eyes begin to mimic the weather. "It is clear now that any effort on my part to make peace with you will be put to shit."

Daemon halts. His boots skin as he turns, "you've made no such effort."

You laugh loudly and throw your arms out, "then what the fuck am I doing now?!"

"You are caring for the heir to the throne," Daemon barks and raises an accusing finger, marching back to you.

Your face twists at his words and you scream through a hurt expression, "AND WHO IS THE HEIR, BROTHER?!" You meet him halfway and grab him by the collar "is it not you, Daemon Targaryen?" you shove him off, "does it appear as though I care not for you?!"

"I don't WANT your mothering!" he blares, grabbing your cheeks, "I do not want you to look at me with those-" he drops his head, "those eyes that scorch my--" he catches sight of the jewel on your neck. He clenches his jaw tightly at the wretched emerald and rips it off you, casting it off to the end of the hall.

At this point, Ser Harrold cannot keep still nor silent. He steps forward and warns, "Prince Daemon!"

You recoil at his actions, hands coming to your now bare décolletage.

Daemon fumes, "that lecherous cunt is pushing his luck," he shakes with anger, "I will have his head on a spike if he deigns your form with cheap bribes again."

You hate that he is evading the real argument all over again, "do not change-"

"I do not know why you enjoy his company. He is a spineless, ugly fuck that-"

"Is that all you have to say to me, Daemon?!" you seethe, shaking your head in disbelief, "you only want to pick a fight over a man who has been kind to me while you have been cruel?"

Daemon takes those words like a stake to the heart.

"Don't you want to get whatever it is that has gotten your cock so far up your arse out?" you shudder as anger spills out of you in a form of tears.

The prince vibrates in anger.

"Hen rhinka ao gīmigon skoros ziry iksos hae naejot emagon someone's orvorta bē aōha gundja," Daemon retaliates, "ao ivestragī mirre vaoreznuni qogralbar emagon iā jikagon rȳ aōha orvorta

Of course you know what it's like to have someone's cock up your ass. You would let any sorry fuck have a go at your cunt.

You release a dry chuckle. Tears of hate burn down your eyes, "so you resolve to framing me into whore? When you and Viserys have been whoring around in brothels sinc-"

"You are a whore," he quips loudly.

You pull your head back and your expression drops. There were suddenly no more tears left for him. "Then very well, my prince. I am a whore," you agree, "but I will no longer be fucked over by you."

Needless to say, the rift between you two was greater now more than ever.

Otto, who had been watching you from the mezzanine near the gates the whole time you waited for your boorish brother, heads for your chambers as you walk away from your brother.

You freeze when you see him standing by your door. Immediately, you run into arms and crumble into his chest.

He grunts and strokes your hair, leading you into your room, sitting you on your bed.

Otto cannot help himself and says, "the king is being pressured by the council to remedy your brother's disruptive behavior as of late. Hear me when I say I will have him relocated somewhere out of sight and out of mind."

You pull away from him and look at him through teary eyes. He wipes your cheeks, "I'll have him married off to someone in the farthest corner of the realm. The burden of him will no longer be your own."

You sigh and lean into his touch, "save yourself the bother. I will leave come day break and continue my travels across the realm."

You bring his hands to your lap, "I only stayed because the late king asked me to. I stayed to witness the anointment of my beloved half as ruler. I stayed to make things better with Daemon. And, now, I have done all that I must and could, so... I will away."

Otto does not like this. He does not like this idea at all.

He tightens his grip on your hands when you make an attempt to stand, "I cannot stomach the thought of you leaving and myself doing nothing about your insolent brother."

You watch how his face hardens, how he is unable to withhold the lines that tighten around his features. You release a sigh and shake your head, "cast your concerns for my brother aside. I do not need you to avenge me."

His brows furrow furiously, "he is an insipid man-child who enjoys spitting on his older sister that does more for him than he will ever know. I will not let him go unpunished."

You tick at his words.

You release his hands. Your expression goes blank as you stand and peer down upon him, "hear me when I say this, Otto Hightower. If you harm a single a hair on my brother's head, I will never forget it," you mutter as you take his chin between your fingers.

Your words are soft spoken and monotonous, yet Otto feels his body grow rigid with uneasiness.

"A confidant can be quickly chosen, a suitor can be found in the streets, a lover can be made in an evening. I may well be wed to many different men in my lifetime, should they meet tragic ends, and, yes, I will never cease to mourn the death of any of my children," you release your grip on him, "but, the truth is, they too can all be replaced."

Otto watches as you raise your brows, "who then, however, can grow me another brother?"

You clench you jaw and await his response.

He does say anything or move.

You've made your point crystal clear.

"So, I say even plainly, my lord," you articulate, "you will not harm my brother for my sake."

He rises to his feet and nods in respect, "as you command, my princess."

You nod once. He turns back to you, watching the fire in you cool.

You take his face, brush his hair back, and offer a small smile, "the hour is late. I must rise early tomorrow if I wish to leave with no further troubles." You give his cheek one last touch before pulling away.

Otto does not let you. He pulls you towards him, hands coming to your sides. He breathes heavily as he surveys your face. You knit your brows at him in concern.

"I do not wish to see you off."

You release a chuckle, "then you do not have to. Sleep in and-"

"Do not leave," he sighs.

You purse your lips at his words then place your hands on his chest. A small smirk places on your face, "and who are you to order me?"

"Lord Hand," he mutters, "I outrank you."

I break into a laugh, "do you now? You are but a lewd little church boy to me, Otto."

"Then I will outrank you," he whispers as he leans closer, "I will ask the king for your hand and make you a Hightower..." he runs the back of his hand down my neck, "my Lady Hightower"

You snort loudly, "oh, he's gotten it twisted," you coo, "I would still not be outranked if you managed that, you candlestick."

Otto feels the corner of his lips twitch into a soft smile as youbreak into a fit of giggles. He leans down to kiss you jaw, "but then you would no longer find it in you to leave your poor husband by himself, now would you?"

Your stomach flutters as he begins to kiss your neck.

When you begin to undo his buttons, he pulls away, "we will not continue if you do not swear to me you'll stay."

Your expression slips into shock. You break into a breathy laugh. "Iksā iā vaogenka valītsos." You are a dirty boy. You pull at his belt, forcing him into you, "a scheming viper in the grass."

Otto peers down as you undo his collar. He brings his hands to your back begins to work on the laces of your dress. He kisses your shoulder, "I take this as agreement." His lips travel to the base of your neck where he realizes that you were bare of any of the jewels he gifted you.

He bites down on you and speaks hotly, "my hands will make a pretty necklace, don't you think?"

You let out a lewd noise, "you better make my stay here worthwhile."

Otto shoves you onto your bed. Your heart races at the sight of his rabid expression.

Later that day, during the council meeting, the issue of your courtship was brought up, as it has been since the moment Viserys was crowned king.

The king made it known once before that he was set on allowing you to chose your match; he owed it to you, as his beloved sister. It was a sweet sentiment no one at all cared for. Still, Viserys said that if he was allowed to wed who he wanted, then he would assure the same for his twin. At least this is what he told the council members.

None but he, and mayhap Queen Aemma, knew his true intentions. He was waiting upon your decision to become his second wife. True, you had turned him down many times over, but he knew that no one could match the flame of a Targaryen better than another Targaryen.

Daemon knew this too.

Daemon knew that no man could survive the ferocity of your fire. And he understood suddenly ,as an old fuck on the council droned over potential matches, why you never wanted to marry Viserys though you gave him so much.

He was weak.

Daemon watched as Viserys smiled pleasantly at the sagging fuck through his horrible attempt at selling his son to him as a potential match for you. If it were him, he wouldn't have let him speak as long as he did.

And even now, Viserys heard out the qualms of another Lord, because this was his nature. He went through at the politicking because he lacked the balls to exercise his soverignity.

The prince was certain you recognized this in your twin. This was why you let him have your maidenhead but not your hand. Rest assured, you will recognize nothing of the sort in him.

Daemon slams his hand on the table, making the room go silent as all eyes turned to him.

Viserys looks darkly upon his brother.

Otto turns to him, wanting nothing more than to press his boot upon his throat and put him in his place. So he does the latter, "have you lost all sense of decorum and self, prince Daemon?"

Daemon whips his head to Otto and narrows his eyes as they twitch, "the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Not only did you interrupt Lord Awyen, but you have, yet again, disrespected the king with your thoughtlessness."

Daemon jolts out of his chair and angrily growls, "you fucking cunt-"

Viserys barks, "Daemon!"

The kingsguard begin to press forward.

Daemon slams his hand on the table again and points at the Hightower cunt, "I am saving him the seconds he will never get again," he turns to his brother, "we all know that you will not consider any of these fucks' dimwitted sons," he looks out to the rest of the men, "nor will the princess even spare them a moment's glance."

It became quite apparent quite quickly to Otto where Daemon was taking this conversation. He will not let him have the final say.

"I am her only real match, brother," Daemon says, confirming Otto's thoughts, making the other men at the table mumble under their breaths. He turns to Viserys. "I am the only one who can honor her in a way that is-"

"Honor her?" Otto scoffs, shoulders stiffened with ire, "my prince, are you not the same man who has ceaselessly been coaxing your sister into tears whenever you have the misfortune to cross paths?"

Steam nearly whistles out of Daemon's ears. He lets out high pitched chuckle, "and you really think that all the fancy collars you've given her has made her into your bitch?"

"DAEMON!" Viserys fumes.

"If you think for a second, mutt," Daemon begins to circle around the room, "that I would let my sister end up with a slobbering-" the kingsguard come upon him, holding back before he can come close enough to strike Otto, "-pathetic excuse for a m-"

"Fucking get him out of here!" Viserys barks.

Daemon fights out of the arms of two guards' who have him apprehended, "fucking LET ME GO!"

They do not and hauls him out of the room.

Otto looks out in as Daemon wrangles and growls. Viserys releases a deep breath and thinks about how he would really rather not have to tell you this happened.

And he doesn't, because before Daemon is even released by the kingsguard back to his chambers, the servants have already whispered about the incident each other and your trusted handmaiden informed you promptly what happened as you visited Alaerion in the pit.

You didn't even need to seek Daemon out this time, because the next thing you knew, he was marching over to you as you brought your dragon back in. Alaerion's screech is what makes you realize he was here.

You turn away from her and see your distraught brother marching over.

"Daemon, wh-"

"Iksan ēdrugī hen umbagon. Kesā dōrī ūndegon, sīr kesan urnēptre ao nykēla," he heaves as he walks over. You pull away from your large mount and walk towards the prince as he continues, "tolvie ñāqatubis ao zālagon nyke lēda aōha laehurlion. Ao jurnegon rȳ nyke yn gaomā daor ūndegon nyke."

I'm tired of the wait. You will never see, so I will show you myself. Every morning you burn me with your face. You look at me but you do not see me.

Daemon grabs your wrists and pulls you toward him, "I have not been a boy for years. You will no longer treat me like one."

Alaerion begins to circle around the two of you. She roars for attention, but neither of you give it to her. She shakes her head and cranes her dark hued neck up, looking down upon you both.

His hard gaze dig into the internal wounds that he had just inflicted. You suck in a breath and yank out of his grip, "then do not act like a child around me."

Alaerion goes on the defensive when you shove Daemon back. She may be fond of him, but she would not hesitate to protect her rider.

You raise a hand at your dragon as she hisses, "arlī bē." Back up.

Alaerion begrudgingly obeys.

You watch as she lies down but keeps a close watch on the two of you. You turn back to your brother, who looks like he had suffered horrible whiplash, "ziry iksos iā doru-borto hen ao naejot vīlībagon nyke isse naejon hen Alaerion."

It's a stupid of you to fight me in front of Alaerion.

Daemon shakes his head, "I'm not trying to fight-"

"Then WHAT do you want from me?!" you throw your hands out in question.

"I WANT YOU!" Daemon bursts with frustration.

You freeze in your spot as he steps forward and grabs your face. His breath hitches, "I want you to see me for what I am!" His hands drag down to your neck, "and I am a man with needs," your hands grab onto his top, "with wants," he heaves, "with desires."

"Daemon-"

He shuts you up with a kiss. He is done wasting time. The time is now. He has to have you.

You are shocked by the kiss. You are shocked by how hungry it is. You are shocked how wonderfully his lips fit against yours. You are shocked by how easily you mold against him.

Daemon feels his stomach flurry as he brings his hands to your side and digs his fingers into your dress. Your own hands come to his nape and tug at the roots of his long hair.

He breaks away from you to whisper against your cheek, "you will no longer scorn me. And you will not refuse me."

You let out a yelp when Daemon bends and pulls your skirt up. He drops on his knees and scratches up your legs, nails intent on leaving their mark, "I have made it known to the old fucks at the council that no man is worthy of you."

He brings himself under your and sinks his teeth to your thigh, "none but me, sweet sister."

You moan out his name, as you feel his hands slowly knead their way up to your hips. You snap out of the rabid trance you were being pulled into because of Alaerion's loud huff.

"My love, the doors are wide open, someone could-"

"Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon," Daemon cuts you off and suddenly rises to his feet. He looks out of breath and starved. He takes your shoulders and shudders, "ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon bona ao sytilībagon naejot nyke."

Let them see. Let them see that you belong to me.

Daemon shoves you down, bringing you to your hands and knees. You look back at him as he undoes his breeches. You turn away and gulp. You try to calm yourself but the thought of someone walking in on you, added to the fact you could hear the prince ripping at his trousers, was making your insides burn.

He gets on his knees, rips your skirt up, and hisses at the sight before him. He immediately grabs your thighs and rips you apart. He wanted nothing but to taste your sweet building slick, but he has to claim you now. His fingers find your entrance. He lets out a grunt as he toys with you with two fingers while his other hand continues to free his steadily hardening cock.

You let out a shaky moan as Daemon circles his thick fingers around your tender flesh. Your jaw drops and you shoes dig into the floor when two digits shallowly enter you.

"I've gotten much practice," Daemon mutters, "learned everything for you," he mutters, "want to touch you better than Viserys."

Your heart drops at his words. Your head whips over your shoulder. Just then, Daemon pulls his hand away from your core and looks at you. His eyes darken and he grabs your hair, effectively ruining your braids. He brings his glimmering fingers to your lips. You have no shame, or at least not in that moment, and you instantly suck on him, tasting yourself on him.

""Nyke pendagon nūmāzma bona tubis nyke ūndan ao lanta mirre se jēda," he huffs as he ruts against you, "sesīr skori nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon naejot."

I think about the day I saw you two all the time. Even when I don't want to.

Your let out a loud sound when he unceremoniously thrusts into you and yet he does do anything beyond gripping your hips tightly.

Daemon rubs at your fleshy backside and releases a string of High Valyrian curses as you feel yourself clench around him. He acts in retaliation of his hated sour memory, shoving into you only once out of spite, making you release a cry that echoes across the room.

A few more moments pass and, still, he does nothing, you bring one hand to your side and place it atop of his knuckles. You arch your back and begin to maneuver against him faintly, "my love," you speak in a wanton manner, "please move."

Daemon's face contorts.

You squeak when he slaps into you once more then stops again. Without another warning, he further ruins your hair with his careless grip and then begins to fuck into you like there's no tomorrow. In truth, they may well not be one for him if someone catches you and Viserys' anger is inspired.

You feel your neck crack as Daemon yanks your hair. At the same time, you let out a guttural cry that bounces across the room. This is finally enough to rouse your dragon with concern.

Alaerion stirs and lifts her long neck, looking down upon her rider as she is mounted from behind. The creature knew well enough what was happening, and she happened to like Daemon, which was why she watched for a second before letting out a bleat, along with smoke through her nostrils.

You really don't have the sense to speak to your ride, much less make any sound that was remotely intelligible, so you effectively ignore her as you feel a pressure in your belly build.

Daemon releases your hair, making your head drop and shake in relation to the his ministrations.

Gathering his strength, he hoists your hips up slightly, making your shift your weight on your fidgeting toes. This allows him to rip into upward and in doing so, hits a needy little nerve in you that makes you release a helpless cry every moment it is hit.

You call out Daemon's name in response, arms shaking through its attempts to keep you up.

"You like being fucked by your brothers, don't you?" he sighs through his brutish actions, "you wanted to be filled up so bad that you couldn't wait for me to take my place in you."

You don't respond with anything coherent. You feel dribble slip down through your open mouth.

Your limbs begin to tire, and your belly begins to grow tighter and hotter. You focus on the feeling building in your stomach and make yourself go wild at the thought of the prince filling you up with his seed. You release a moan but it rips into a yelp when he slaps your ass then yanks at your hair again.

You nearly choke on your spit. You begin to beg to him in High Valyrian.

Alaerion catches this and finds no more tolerance. She begins to growl.

Daemon chuckles as he leans in to you, "your dragon has issue with her master being bred roughly," he nips at your lobe, "tell her off."

You whine.

Rather desperately and unconvincingly, you order Alaerion to back up and calm down. You know for a fact that the sound she made was one that was dissatisfied with the order, and yet she forces herself to calm and decides to curl into herself.

Daemon reaches his breaking point, and moves as ruggedly and as quickly as he possibly could. He elicits another yelp out of you when he slaps you again, "udligon ñuha másino." Answer my question.

You're lucky to even know what the hell he is talking about, so with a loud gulp you let out a strangled answer, "kessa." Yes.

Daemon growls, "which brother?"

You whine, "ao, Daemon," you sigh as he pummels into you, "sīr sȳz." You, Daemon. So good.

And as though that was the trigger, you bounce against him some more and then you come so good around him that it squeezes the air out of you and makes your eyes roll back.

You continuously call out his name as he sequentially spurts out with burning ripples of him. He makes sure you are shivering and overstimulated, and that he, himself, was fully done for before slowing and eventually stopping.

Daemon catches his breath as he rubs the fleshy part of your backside. You can feel yourself twitch around him as he does so, and you so badly wanted nothing more than to hold him right now.

"I've imagine doing this so many times, my princess," he mutters through a breath and stops his rubbing motions, "I've imagined making you mine more times than I can count."

You hiss when you feel him slide out of you. Sequentially, you feel his orgasm drip for your convulsing womanhood. Daemon uses a gentle touch as he brings your skirt down and slowly gets to his knees. He quickly puts his softened self away but makes sure to help you to your feet before doing anything more. You sluggishly move to stand and take his hand as he reaches out to you.

Daemon tugs you into him and looks upon you with solemn eyes. He brushes your hair back and you look at him then his undone laces. You find yourself smiling as you reach for his pants whilst feeling a hot bead burn down the inner part of your legs.

You happily tug at the string of his trousers and tie them up for him. You cannot help the playful expression that spreads across your faces as he makes attempts at smoothing your hair out.

You look at his face once, catching the concerned line between his brows. You turn back to his waist as you finish tying the strings, "do I look utter ruined, sweet boy?"

Daemon releases a breath. His hands come to your neck, his thumbs rub at your collarbones. You lean into his touch as your lips curl into a brighter smile.

"Ao jurnegon hae ñuha māzīlarion," he retorts, taking one step forward, face leaning close to yours, "nyke zālagon syt ao." You look like my future. I burn for you.

Your breath hitches when he places a gracious kiss upon. Daemon is warm and gentle as he leads your lips through this dance. You reach out for his torso and let yourself drift through the feel of his warm mouth.

"Nyke ānogrosa nehugon syt ao," Daemon whispers as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. He takes your hands and places it upon his chest, "iksā mirre nyke jeldan, mandia." I bleed for you. You are all I ever wanted, sister.

You feel your stomach roll, "ñuha Daemon." My Daemon.

"Take me as your husband," he retorts, pulling away to look you straight in the eyes, "I would honor you better than any man could. I would smite all that wrong you. I would fly across the realms with you. I would clear the way of anything that hinder you. I would father your dragonlings. I would teach them the pride of our house," he shakes his head, "I would have you till my dying breath... if you'll have me."

You cannot help the tears that begin to fog your vision. You pull you hands from him to clutch his jaw and rub it lovingly, "oh, Daemon," you let out a soft chuckle, "you have always been the most important person in my life. I would give you the world if you asked it of me," you curl your lips into a smirk, "and now I can put to rest all my worries for your betrothal."

Daemon breaks into a smile. He chuckles softly. He wraps his arms around you and presses you tightly against him, "not all your worries. You will still need to plan it."

You laugh as he kisses your neck. You relax against him and dig your fingers into his nape, massaging the area gently, "you would let me fuss about it all by myself?"

"I nary care for the formalities," he mutters against you, "I'd wed you in the gutters and still be the happiest man alive."

You snort and push him away. You give him a look as he tucks hair behind your ear, "we are not going to be wed in the gutters, Daemon."

"Of course not," he raises his brows, "I will not allow such offence be made to my bride."

You find your stomach fluttering at his words, "your bride."

Daemon's face grows solemn all over again. He rubs your lips, "my bride."

You smile at him and nod decidedly, "I will speak with Viserys about this and promptly begin preparations."

Though the words should have made him overjoyed, the prince felt a pang of dread rip through him as he heard them. Daemon clenches his jaw, "I should speak to him. It is only right I implore brother for you hand."

You take in his expression and find yourself chuckling softly, "you fought with him, didn't you?"

Daemon does not retort.

You laugh louder and shake your head, "then do not further inspire his fury, my love," you smooth out his hair, "let me do the talking. After all, he will not refuse me."

Daemon places his hands atop yours, causing you to still your actions, "he may not refuse you but he may want to spite me."

"Daemon," you sigh, "Viserys may be difficult, with you especially, but he means be out of love," you kiss his nose, "leave your worries to sissy."

Daemon sighs then nods. He sinks his head do your shoulder and you pull him close. He kisses your skin and thinks he belongs here. He belongs against your ribs.

Alaerion rolls over.

"Prince Daemon, though adopted many infamous names, would notably be remembered for overcoming what would be known as the Four Horrid Tasks, issued by his older brother in exchange for their sister's hand. King Viserys' had always been extremely fond and protective of his twin. He made clear many times over that she would wed whom she chose. Yet through constant pressure, in the end, he made a proclamation for all those interested in her: 'He who be daring and gallant enough to accomplish but four tasks for the king, Viserys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, will be allowed to take the princess, the King's twin and younger sister, as his wife.' It is heavily debated whether or not the decision was made to silence the voices of the council from further pestering him with the matter of the princess' hand, or to dissuade his younger brother into pursuing their beloved sister any further."--Excerpt from 'Daemon Targaryen: A Prince Larger Than Life' by unknown author, circa 100-120 A.C.

Daemon took deep breathes and sure strides on his way to his brother's chambers.

Yes, you told him to leave it up to you, but he could not find it in him not to speak to Viserys about the matter.

The events at the dragon pit yesterday were clear in his mind. He could still hear your cries, feel your soft flesh, taste the tenderness of your words.

He knew, truly, that if it was the issue was of your hand, you were the only one who the king would ever listen to its regards. And yet even after hearing from both guards and servants alike that King Viserys made it known he would not be interrupted in his room or bothered with any royal matters for today, he pressed forward still and now stood before his brother's chamber doors.

The prince decided to knock and announce himself, which was honestly not his nature.

He waited for a few moments, listening in for a response, before raising his knuckles to rap on the door again. He does not though, as he hears the sound of a whimper seep through the crevice before him. Daemon straightens as a high pitched voice continues to whine. It was very obviously not Viserys making that sound, and somehow, he was certain that was not Aemma either.

He clenches his jaw, it was you.

"Enter," the king barks.

Daemon wastes no time and pushes the door open. He makes it a point to keep his eyes down and only look up once the door was closed behind him. When he does, he feels his insides gurgle at the sight of his twin siblings.

Lo and behold, there sat the King at the edge of his bed, chest bare, hands rested upon on his lap, or rather, the lap rested upon him. You were sat on Viserys, lips parted as you heaved heavily, clad in nothing but your shift. To make matters worse, your clothes were bunched up by your hips and Viserys' hand was unabashedly in between your thighs.

Daemon wouldn't know that your fluttering cunt was filled up with his brother's seed and your ass with filled up by his cock up until later.

He could clearly see how his brother was touching you with his fingers, evident by the strain in his arm and how you would slightly flinch intermittently.

"So, baby brother," he starts, "you caught me fucking sissy once before, huh?"

Daemon neither moves nor responds.

Viserys keeps his eyes on him as he nuzzles his face into your neck and makes you whimper by shoving his fingers into your leaking entrance with little regard, merely keeping them there. You grip on his arm and mutter his name out in a plea.

The king does not like that and looks at you as he thrusts upward, making you squeak helplessly, "funny that now you remember my name now, whore."

Daemon's nostrils flare at the crude name you're given.

Viserys turns back to Daemon as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He enjoys watching his brother's face tick at the sight of him sullying the woman he wants to make his wife. He pulls his mouth off you and speaks to the prince, "you remember when I first took you to a whorehouse, Daemon?"

In truth, Daemon doesn't want to reply, but he decides that he probably should, "yes."

"If the princess wasn't born a princess, she would've be the best whore in the Street of Silk," Viserys turns back to you, "iksis bona daor paktot?" Is that not right?"

"Paktot," Right, you reply like clockwork.

Viserys releases a groan that bubbles into a laugh, "my poor girl is so desperate to come, isn't she?"

You let out a needy sound and arch your back against him when he begins to move his fingers inside you. One of your hands go to the side of his face and another goes atop of his working hand, urging him with gentle stroke to continue pleasuring you.

Gods be good, the sight of you coiling up against Viserys was a torturous sight. It was making Daemon's breath shorten and his insides churn. And yet, at the same time, he could feel his pulse in his pants thud strongly in reaction to what he saw.

"Do you deserve to come, byka rene?" Little slut.

You readily nod at your king's words, "kostilus." Please.

Viserys begins to feel your folds tighten against his fingers. He promptly pulls away and grabs your neck with the hand he just used to fuck you with, "I don't think you're sorry enough."

You whimper as he presses down on your airways.

Viserys then turns back to Daemon, "you know why she's here?"

Daemon watches as you let out a choking sound. He shifts uncomfortably in his spot but does not get to reply as the king answers himself.

"My pretty twin is here to convince me to give her to you," he sighs deeply, releasing his chokehold to grab one of your breasts and knead them roughly, "the gods made her the same day they made me. They molded her next to me in our mother's womb, and I molded my cock into her with a vengeance," he eyes Daemon hotly, "she belongs to me. Why would I give her to you?"

Hearing those words make you momentarily slip out of your lustful trance. You turn to Viserys and rub your nose against his cheek, "brother, please-"

"If the fuck says he wants my throne and you'd kill me in cold blood and give it to him, wouldn't you," the king seethes, flicking his hips upward, making you screech, "all he does is complain like the little boy he is and calls you cruel if you ignore him for even a second, yet you think he's worthy? Worthy to be king? Worthy of my prized half's cunny?

"He doesn't even know how much you favor him," Viserys continues through a growl and slowly stops his vicious movements. You let out a tired cry as he rubs your belly and turns to Daemon, "when he first shared a whore, brother, I immediately thought of sissy. I so badly wanted to share her with you."

Daemon watches as Viserys hands come between your thighs again. The latter explains further, "I thought she would look so pretty leaking from both holes after her brothers fuck her like the slut she was made to be-- made for us."

The prince swallows heavily.

"But no," Viserys pulls his hand away from your thighs, "she said she did not want to taint you," he scoffs out a chuckle, "as if she was unaware of the fact you were a bigger whore than both of us combined."

Daemon shifts in his spot again.

"Why don't you tell our sweet sister how much of a whore you are, Daemon," the king announces, "tell her how you made your painted whores swallow your seed and not waste a drop, for it was an honor to even have a Targaryen load in them. Tell her how you spit between their arse cheeks and made them weep as you tore through them with your cock," he turns to Daemon, "tell her how you touched yourself to the thought of us-"

He lets out a strangled breath.

"Tell her how badly you want to be me," Viserys gives a wolfish grin as he begins to rock his hips upward, making your whine, "how badly you want to fuck her with me right now."

For some reason, Daemon finds his brother's words as a trigger to step forward. He manages two steps before he realizes what he is doing and stops in his tracks.

Viserys face darkens as he stills. You whine again. He tilts his head in a beckoning manner, "take her dress off, brother."

Daemon does not know why he hesitates, but he makes up for the seconds with eager steps towards you.

Before he reaches you two, the eldest speaks up again, "you ought to know that she rather readily gave herself up to me as she mused about the idea of your marriage."

Daemon stops when he is before you. He feels himself stiffen further at the sight of your sweaty face as you turn to him.

Viserys looks up as well, "and while we were fucking, the bitch called out your name instead of mine."

Daemon cannot help the way his eyes widen at that.

"Syt sīr bōsa, nyke mirre ao kreni, se syt skoros?" he yanks you by your hair, "naejot emagon ao isse jaelagon hen orvorta hen ñuha lēkia." For so long, I kept you pleased, and for what? To have you in want of the cock of my brother?

"That's enough," Daemon rebuts.

Viserys releases your tangled hair upon hearing this and laughs. He turns to Daemon and shakes his head, "enough? Pull her dress off and you'll see how whorish she is. You'll see her leaking with me because I fucked her and didn't make her peak. You'll see her grinding down subtly cause I have her ass impaled."

So he does just that.

He pulls your dress off and sees your wet curls and thighs, painted white with the with sticky remnants of the king. You lift you hands so Daemon can rid your clothing altogether, and he quickly chucks it to the side. He licks his lips as he finally notices the miniscule circular motions you were doing on top of Viserys' lap.

The said man raises a brow, "you still want your hussy?"

Daemon does not get to respond as you are pulled back onto the bed. Viserys falls onto the sheets and drags you up, all while keeping himself snug inside you. He pushes you to your side and grabs your leg, bringing it behind you, over his hip.

You whimper as you feel come spill out of you. Your sounds intensify when Viserys grabs your breast and begins to thrust into you. He twists you carelessly as he fucks into you with little regard.

Daemon's mouth nearly foams when you raise a hand and call out for him, "jorrāelagon ao sīr olvie." Need you so much.

Viserys pants, "come one, little brother. Your come slut awaits."

Daemon can feel his hands trembling as he strips himself naked. He works as fast as he can but when he hears your cry, he decides to climb over to you although his dress shirt remained on him.

You whimper as tears prick in the corner of your eyes, reaching out to Daemon as he takes his place next to you. The said man rubs your hips and grabs his hardened length, easily slipping into your soaking folds.

You release a loud cry when you feel him enter. You scratch at his clothed back and tug at his shirt, "off, please, off-"

Daemon does not dare deny you this, and though he struggles, he eventually rids himself of his final piece of clothing. After this, he finally begins to move into you. He pumps in and out at a much slower pace than Viserys, but matches the same ferocity.

You let out quick and shallow pants at the delicious feel of fullness in you. As you were denied and teased for so long, you could feel yourself quickly reaching your peak. You arch your back and pull Daemon into you as you clench around them

Viserys, knowing your body well, grabs your neck and whispers into your ear, pushing your further to your edge, "greedy minx. Coming already? Daemon's just getting started."

You can't help that you come right after that, shuddering and shaking as you feel heat spill all over you. You feel your lungs wring out all the air inside it. It only intensifies as Viserys keeps his hands secured around your neck. Needless to say, you're seeing stars at this point.

Daemon releases a groan as he feels your cunt convulse around him. It makes him increase his tempo to a point where he's moving about as fast as his brother.

With the added roughness, your high is surely lived out up until there was nothing left. Soon enough you were squeaking helplessly, twitching at the overstimulation.

Neither of the two could keep themselves from chasing after their own need even as you very clearly began to grow tense in discomfort.

At one point, everything became all too much that you choked out a soft sob.

It was at this point that Daemon begins to relent in his ways, slowing down to offer your brief repose.

Viserys, however, was not letting you have any of that, "don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop," he grunts. "She can take it," he leans into you, "can't you pretty girl? Can't you pathetic whore?"

Daemon watches as you choke out a yes through tears and a strangled breath.

You lift your leg off Viserys and prop it atop of his hip, "want to make you feel good," your grab at Viserys' neck, "want to make both my boys feel so good."

The king loses himself after that. With merely a few more thrusts, he bursts into you and releases a hot load that has you yelping.

He tightens his grip on your neck before he releases you abruptly, grabbing onto your shoulder as he uses you to satisfy his remaining needs.

He calls out your name and tilts your head back to kiss you. You catch a quick breath before he connects your lips together. Your mouths mingle against each other's sloppily, up until you're only breathing and grunting against the other, no longer kissing.

When Viserys stills behind you, he watches as Daemon pummels into you like a man on a mission, and, to be fair, he was.

Daemon takes his turn, bringing your face to him and kisses you much tenderly than Viserys did. He grabs at your leg and pulls you closer to him as he chases the building fire in his belly.

Part of the king knows his brother was probably being held back by the position you were in, and as much as he wanted to see him suffer and to keep himself buried in your plush tush, he decides to be a magnanimous king and pulls out of you, causing you to whimper as you swollen hole oozes with his creamy delight.

Viserys rolls to his side and takes a moment before standing up and grabbing his ever ready wash cloth on his cabinet, wiping himself down as he turns to watch his brother break into his twin sister.

Immediately, Daemon has you pushed on your back, sprawled out beneath him. He wraps your legs around him and fucks into you with more vigor now that he had you all to himself.

"D-Daemon," you whimper as you wrap your arms around him, clinging onto him for dear life.

He nuzzles into your neck and mutters sweetly, "need me so badly, sweetheart?" he groans and whispers, "need me to fuck you better than Viserys?"

You whimper in response as the bed creaks at his movements.

Daemon pushes your legs down your sides and licks your tear stained cheeks, "you want to come again, love?"

You shake your head in disagreement as your poor cunny was still very much reeling from being teased too much.

He whines, "what if I want you to come, pretty girl, will you come for me?"

You sob at the idea, "Daemon please-"

"Shhh," he sneaks a finger between you, "you can do it, can't you?"

You digs your nails into his back and you scream out when he begins to rub at your sensitive pearl.

"Gōntan ñuha dārilaros daor ivestragon ziry kessa tepagon nyke mirros?" he mutters against you, "kessa ao daor tepagon nyke iā byka run hae bisa?" Did my princess not say she shall give me anything? Will you not give me a small thing like this?

Tears rush out of your eyes as you hear this, "Daemon kostilus." Daemon please.

Viserys lets out a heavy breath as he hears your whimpers. He finds himself smirking, "where's the Fanged Beauty's teeth? You can take it can't you?"

Damon groans and answer for you, "she can take it," he grunts, "take it like a good girl. Sissy's always been good at taking care of us."

You whine and let out a long breath. You allow yourself to relax against him and eventually, with all of Daemon's ministrations, you calm and feel yourself begin to tighten around him all over again.

"Gaomagon sȳrī, riñītsos, tolī mirre, iksā doing bisa syt zirȳla, daor?" Viserys speaks as he walks off to get himself a cup of wine.

Do well, little girl, after all, you are doing this for him, no?

The king sips on his drink as he watches the obscenities playing out on his bed.

Daemon feels himself fall closer to his limit. Sequentially, he no longer actually gives a shit whether or not your come with him or not, though he really wanted to feel your cunt choke him as he pushed into you.

It was a good thing that you suddenly began to pant out his name and dig your fingers into his hair, "I'm close, Daemon."

He smirks and nods, "like a good girl."

You whimper and rapidly feel yourself inching towards your undoing. The final blow is delivered after Daemon sputters out curses as he unravels above you. He releases into you with his nails digging into your sides. He twitches and shudders with the intense bolt of pleasure. It surges hot, molten, and thick. It fills you up until you're overflowing.

The sound you make is piercing. It rips through Viserys' ears, inspiring him to call you a string of vulgar names in your shared mother tongue. On the other hand, it makes Daemon hiss hotly against your neck as his ego soars while he concludes his fuck. His stiff body slowly begins to grow limp and your own terse one spasms until its putty.

By the time the prince is a melted sky above you, you catch your breath and hold onto him, as though he was your deliverer, as though he was your beloved; both of which were true after all.

Daemon buries his face next to your own and whispers sweet nothings to your ear.

You nuzzle your face against him. Slowly, your heart began to calm.

"Hen rȳ istin," Viserys pipes up, cutting through your tender moment, "ivestragī īlva ūndegon se mess emā vēttan." Off at once. Let us see the mess you have made.

The king walks over to the side of his bed and motions his head at Daemon, who barely wanted to roll off you as it was, now it was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he looked at his brother, thinking that he had a withering cock, and gave you a quick kiss before separating from you.

Though Daemon did so in a gentle manner, you still could not help but curl your toes tightly and whimper as the weight above you shifts off. Immediately, your pulverized holes began to weep out the lustful load the two dragons left in you.

The two men cannot help the fascination and the enthrallment they feel upon seeing the way your swollenness flutters, nor, frankly, can they turn away.

Daemon does not move too far from you and, in fact, lies by your side, nuzzling his face between your breast, wrapping an arm over your side, pulling you close to him. He rubs his cheek on your skin and plays with your pert nipple.

"Filthy whore," Viserys smirks, "to think you could have had us both long ago had you not been so persistent in babying your precious baby brother."

You do not respond to him but you do begin to lightly brush through Daemon's hair. You breathe through your lips as you slowly bring your head down to look upon the youngest, "I do not regret it."

Daemon looks up at you as you mutter through a smile, "I prefer knowing him like this."

Viserys' eye twitches at this. He clenches his jaw at the sight of you both and downs the drink in his hand. He walks off to set it down and then finds himself scoffing. He feels a bitterness settle in his stomach and as he turns over his shoulder. Suddenly, a smirk spreads on his lips.

"Dirty girl," he mutters, "if you were to fall with child," he turns around, "no one would be able to tell if it was me or Daemon that fathered it."

Daemon turns to Viserys as he walks over.

"Maybe you'll bare twins like mother and then Daemon and I can share a child."

You turn to him and sit up slightly when he says this. You notice that, though his tone was mischievous, there was a serious glint in his eyes. You raise a brow at him, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am not ridiculous," he shrugs, "I am king."

Daemon immediately sits up.

Viserys raises a finger.

The two brothers stare at each other for a moment before the latter speaks, "I have heard your pleas. I will consider them kindly at the council tomorrow."

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fishsticksloser · 2 years ago

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Hello!! I saw requests were open, so if it's not a problem, i would like to request the rottmnt brothers (separatly ofc), falling in love at first sight with reader, since reader's job is near of the sewers and everytime (Turtle of option) comes out, he always see them, so when he asks April if she knows them, she reveals that reader it's a close friend of her, which makes April and the brothers to organize a meeting with him (i know is kinda cliche but anyways).

Don't feel with the need of doing this, you can easily delete or ignore this request if you don't like, hope you have a nice day :DD

Love At First Sight

Mikey x gn!reader

Warnings: kind of slow burn??, eventual fluff, awkwardness, aged up

A/N: this was a little difficult for me to write... Ngl, I've never felt this so I tried, please don't be upset if this sucks. :( I decided to just do one because coming up with 4 scenarios was too much for my tiny brain...

You work at an art studio. How did Mikey know that? Because you worked right next to the entrance to the lair. He saw you almost every time he was leaving or coming home. Sometimes he'd sit and watch you paint after hours. He wanted so badly to go in and paint with you, but he knew he couldn't... April, Cassandra, and Casey had been around weird stuff pretty much all their lives so 4 turtle men had no affect on them. But normal people? They'd probably faint.

"Hey, Mikey." April greets. "What's goin' on? Your brothers say you've been pretty quiet recently. Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Mike mumbles. "There's just this person that works at the art studio up there that I really like."

"I have a friend that works there, maybe I can help." April smiles, nudging him "What's their name?"

Mikey hesitates. Dr. Feelings wouldn't hesitate! So he spilled, your name falling out.

"No way..." April gasps.

"W-What?"

"I've been friends with them forever! You so got this!"

"Y-Yeah, well... I don't know if you noticed but I'm a turtle."

"So? I like you."

"You've known us since you were 8."

"Whatever, call me if you want help."

April left, off to talk to the other 3 turtles, hoping they could help convince Mikey.

"Mikey's got a crush?" Raph asks.

"Well why didn't he just say so!?" Leo grins. "We've totally got this."

"Uh. Leo? Are you forgetting?" Donnie scoffs. "He's both Dr. Feelings and Dr. Delicate Touch. This is going to be hard."

"Donnie's right." Raph crosses his arms. "Dr. Delicate Touch feels nothing. Plus, if he finds out that we know... I don't even want to think about it..."

"Well then, I've totally got this." Leo laughs.

A few weeks went by and they still hadn't convinced Mikey to ask April for help, so they came up with a plan to make them meet. It was dangerous, of course, but they still had hope.

He didn't have it.

≺✨*: .｡. 🧡 .｡.:*✨≻

"Mikey, come on!" Leo calls.

"Coming!" Mikey gets to the exit and the 2 of them start climbing. "Where's Raph and Don?"

"They're meeting us there with April." Leo answers.

Once up top, Leo disappears. Mikey looks around, helplessly. The back door to your art studio opens and you step out with April. Mikey is frozen, they set him up...

"Oh!" April fake gasps. "Mikey!"

"What?" You ask, turning your head to face wherever April was looking.

"This is my adopted brother, Michelangelo!" April grins.

"H-Hi, it's nice to meet you..." Mikey stutters, shaking your hand. You didn't seem scared, more confused, which April took as a good sign.

"It's nice to meet you too..." You nod. "Adopted brother?"

"They kind of adopted me." April shrugs. "He's half human."

"Half... Box turtle?"

"Y-Yep!"

It was silent for a minute or 2. Like you were decided on whether running away, screaming was an option. You studied Mikey and he started feeling self concious.

"... Weirder things have happened in New York." You finally spoke before turning back to April. "You said they. Are there more?"

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suspiciouslyspinach · 2 years ago

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OK SO. i actually think that Michael will be the first to find out the Will isn’t William, and I think it’s because of the animatronics somehow. Maybe he figures out that Will is removing all the bloodlust capabilities, and he’ll figure out that WILLIAM was a murderer first before figuring out that Will isnt William. I think that would be the cherry on top of the angst cake.

But then again, if CLARA finds out first, that might be the final nail in the coffin for her mental health. She’d also have to break that to her kids, and GOD

ALSO. QUESTION. WILL THERE BE ANY SORT OF SHIPPING IN THIS WITH MICHAEL. LIKE. JEREMIKE? JUST OUT OF CURIOSITY

OH ALSO ALSO I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT THAT WAS A REDRAW FROM THOSE REFS FROM ALMOST HALF A YEAR AGO???? DAMN.

okay!!! omg okay AAA :DD

so, you're def onto something with the reveals here, but i can't spoil too much!!! i will just say, originally, Charlie was the one who was going to find out first, but then i didn't like that as much 🤷

AND H O W did you predict jeremike??? i haven't even brought him into the story yet lmaooo. any ships with michael will be very like,,, idk how to describe it, vague? pure? background-y? basically the main ship will always be will/clara but Michael will definitely be getting his (slow burn) coming of age romance story so look out for that 😉

I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT WAS FROM HALF A YEAR AGO??? WHERE HAS TIME GONE??? (also like dammmmnnnn the evolution in ur styleeee, i love it sm, you have this very particular way of drawing and it's gorgeous)

#final will theories #fanfic theories #fanfic #fnaf #the final will and testament of a totally normal 80's father

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saysfinat · 8 years ago

Text

Victuuri fic recs

The Tsesarevich lives! by mtothedestiel, Explicit, 50k

An Anastasia AU. Victor is an orphan with no name, no family, and no memory of a time before he was ten years old. Could he really be the missing Nikiforov heir? An adventure across Europe with two conmen will lead him to the answer.

This fic is really nice to read especially if you like Anastasia. It follows the plot of the movie with a few exceptions.The characters’ personalities are absolutely on point and it has a really healthy relationship in it. My favorite tags are #friends to lovers and #Bottom Victor Nikiforov ;))

Sweetsilversub by phlintandsteel, Explicit, 71k

When Katsuki Yuuri thinks about his life, he feels like maybe it should have the subtitle ‘A Study In Contradictions’ after it. As he grows and learns more about himself though, he decides he’s willing to acknowledge that being a 'Work In Progress’ is ok too.

Even if he struggles with uniting the 'online’ and 'in real life’ portions of himself, at least he’s got friends in both places who are willing to stick by him while he works shit out. And maybe more than friends, if the look in Victor’s eyes is anything to go by… How did this become his life!!?!?

I don’t usually read Dom/sub fics but this is a masterpiece. It handles this kind of relationship really well and in a healthy way. Victor supports Yuuri online long before Yuuri notices his real personality. THE TENSION IS REAL.

Six Kinds of Love (WIP) by Frilly_Axolotl, Explicit, 56k Rape/Non-Con!

It’s almost funny how one night can change a person’s life forever.

They were caught and sold together over a year ago. Two Yuris for the price of one, the auctioneer said. But now their sadistic Masters seem to have angered the enigmatic Viktor Nikiforov, who is willing to take on another slave or two as compensation.

In a world where slavery is legal, it’s hard to know who to trust. Sometimes, you just have to take a chance.

This is very realistically written and Yuuri’s trauma is really deep. It deals with heavy topics so I don’t recommend this if you’re easily offended. Spoiler or not, Victor is an absolute sweetheart<33

when the ice melts in the snow (that's when you'll love me) (WIP) by lilithiumwords, Explicit, 59k

Katsuki Yuuri is the worst incubus in the Underworld. Viktor Nikiforov is his human target.

OMG MAYBE MY FAVORITE FIC EVER! The characterization is absolutely amazing and Victor and Yuuri are perfectly equals which is really important for me. You have to read this fic if you haven’t already. You won’t be disappointed!

On My Love (WIP) by RikoJasmine, Teen And Up Audiences, 72k

For the second time, the Sochi Grand Prix Finals arrive, and with it a reborn Yuuri Katsuki. “Viktor,” Yuuri thinks over the pounding of his heart, the crowd going silent as the music begins. “I’ll show the world what you meant to me.”

Yuuri often thinks of his life as Before and After Viktor Nikiforov, the marking point being the day Viktor swept into his life and turned his world upside-down. After many years together, an accident leads to Yuuri suddenly waking up in the Before—back in Detroit, before the GPF, before he ever knew Viktor as anything other than his childhood idol.

As if it had all been just a dream.

My favorite time travel fic for sure! It can make you cry and laugh and it’s really fluffy! Victor’s characterization is perhaps the best I’ve read so far. He’s a dork but at the same time not an idiot. Mutual pining for the win! :D

starstruck by shizuoh, Teen And Up Audiences, 59k

"Hold my son for a moment," says the Viktor Nikiforov, live in the flesh, sweaty and panting.

"Wha—" Yuuri can't even begin to comprehend what's going on before Viktor is gone, and there's a child in his arms.

(in which yuuri is a simple barista, viktor is a famous movie star, and yuri is an 8 year old kid stuck in the middle of it.)

Normally I don’t read fics where Yuri is Victor and/or Yuuri’s child but this fic is just incredible. There are trans and genderfluid characters and the dynamic between Yuuri and Victor is really great. Cuteness overload <3

dear true love by cityboys, Teen And Up Audiences, 72k

Victor is a writer pretending to be on a break; Yuuri is a pianist pretending to not be on a break.

They meet, somehow, in the backwaters of Saga Prefecture, Japan.

I absolutely adore this author. Their stories are really well done and unique and their writing style is one of my favorites. This is my favorite story by them but I recommend every one of their works. I cried while reading this, it was an emotional rollercoaster and an absolute beautiful piece.

Come Out of Hiding (I'm Right Here Beside You) by osaki_nana_707, Not Rated (would be Explicit), 84k

After forgetting the words to his song during a vocal competition as a teenager, Yuuri Katsuki decided singing was not for him. Instead he went to NYU to study English. He never expected Viktor Nikiforov, Broadway star extraordinaire looking to direct his first production on the stage, would ever find his up-and-coming lead... in him.

A Broadway AU with a really nice setting! I really like the characterization. It made me cry a couple of times and the characters’ emotions were highly on display. A really good one!!

#my post #fanfic #fanfics #fic recommendations #recommendations #victuuri #victor x yuuri #yuri on ice #yoi #au #give them a try #almost all of these are slow-burns :DD

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zoeysdamn · 2 years ago

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Bloodied petals | Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.5

Summary: Heartbroken by Xavier’s rejection, you know that your days are numbered now. Enid has your back as a dutiful roommate and manages to convince you to go to the Rave’n – even if it’s the last place where you want to be. Maybe some unexpected bonding time with Bianca cannot be that bad, before some terrible news is delivered.

Warnings: angst™, mentions of blood, swearing, underage drinking, description of a panic attack. English isn’t my mother tongue.

A/N: I know I’ve promised some fluff in this chapter buuuutttt this is already so long like omg so, sorry guys you’ll have to wait for the next one :DD

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4]

It was a weird feeling to know that you were going to die soon. In the two days following Xavier’s rejection, you had basically locked yourself in your room, a basin always at hand’s reach. You didn’t even try to hide it anymore when Wednesday was around, besides you were kind of busy throwing up every single flower and petal to care about her occasional pitiful looks. She wasn’t particularly having remorses, but the knowledge that her roommate was down a dreadful path didn’t please her either. You had been kind to her without being too nosy, so she tolerated you. But you couldn’t care less about Wednesday Addams’ second thoughts at the moment. All of your chest and throat felt like a burning fire most of the time and it felt like the whole Nevermore glasshouse was growing in your lungs.

In an attempt to try to delay the growth of the plants a little, you had concocted a potion you drank three times a day. There was no cure for Hanahaki disease, but it was still plants. So you had made a potion that would basically act like a weed killer. The taste was horrendous and it burned your throat almost as much as the flowers themselves, but at least it seemed to slow down their growth a little. It means that you still could pretend it was just the flu when you coughed during class and managed to hide away the flowers, but that you were curled up on your bed or over the toilets for the rest of the time.

The tricky part was to hide it from Enid. You loved your other roommate, but she was so sweet and excited about the upcoming ball, you didn’t have the heart to tell her what was really going on. She wouldn’t be able to get it out of her mind and you didn’t want to burden her with it. You always managed to flee the room just in time when she was there and you felt the coughs starting to get stronger. Fortunately, she still didn’t notice anything. Although, you knew that at some point you would have to disclose the truth to her. So you had decided to tell everything to Enid after the Rave’n and the parents' weekend following. She surely had enough on her plate for the time being. Like, convincing Wednesday to go shopping for the upcoming ball.

“C’mon, it’ll be a fun outing between roomies!” she said excitedly while Wednesday kept her unfazed expression.

“I’d rather burn my own eyes with acid rather than mingle with teenagers ready to fight over a stupid piece of fabric.”

From your bed, you rolled your eyes behind the book you were reading. On any other day, you would have chuckled at Wednesday’s antics, but the harsh tone she always used to answer Enid's kind ideas was starting to get on your nerves. Couldn’t she just say a plain no?

Luckily, Enid had an optimistic personality, “Come ooooon, just one little shopping session between roomies, please please pleeaseee! I bet even Y/N thinks it’s a good idea, right Y/N?”

The sudden mention of your name in the discussion made you jump a little and you looked up from the pages. Enid looked at you expectedly, a large smile on her face.

“I’m not going to the Rave’n,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. You wouldn’t give Wednesday the satisfaction of seeing you cry and an occasion to ramble again about how weak your feelings made you. This made Enid gasp.

“What! Why?”

“Don’t have a date, and don’t want to go,” you simply mumbled, not without giving a glance at the pigtailed girl. It wasn’t entirely her fault, you couldn’t manipulate Xavier’s feelings for you; still, you couldn’t help but feel bitter.

Enid looked between the two of you and made a small “oh” in understanding. “But- but you don’t need a date to go!” she tried to reassure you, changing the subject quickly. “You can go on your own! Independent women don’t need a man to do what they want, right?”

You snickered at this, “Playing the feminist card won’t work this time Enid. I don’t want to go to have the whole school whispering at how pathetic I look on my own.”

Both of your roommates felt kind of sorry for you at that moment. Of course not, in the same way, Wednesday was more bored of this whole ordeal and was slightly saddened by the fact an acceptable roommate was turning bitter. It wasn’t a pretty colour on you and she might have lost a valuable ally.

“Come on Y/N,” pleaded Enid again, “you don’t look so good these days, some fresh air could be good for you!”

For a moment you felt the tip of your tongue burning with a witty comeback, something about her argument being not really convincing, but you retained yourself. Then you let out a long sigh. “Fine,” you conceded because it was hard to resist Enid’s pleading eyes, “but only because you need a fashion chaperone and you said please.”

“Yes!” squealed Enid, clapping her hands, “it’ll be so fun! I’m gonna tell Miss T we’re all going to Jericho, see you at the entrance in 10 minutes!”

She waltzed out of the room, grabbing her pink jean jacket on the way and blessedly unaware of the tension she left behind. Ignoring the heavy look of Wednesday you got up from the bed and started to put your shoes on.

“I didn’t know you wanted to go to that stupid ball,” said Wednesday. Were that undertones of guilt you heard in her voice?

“I don’t,” you groaned, “I just wished…you know what, forget it you wouldn’t get it anyway.”

“If it’s about Xavier being my date then no need to be so petty about this,” she said rolling her eyes, “I’m just using the occasion to watch him and find out if he’s the monster or not.”

You let out a bitter laugh, flabbergasted by her words. “Do you realize how much worse it is? You know what I feel for Xavier, and you’re inviting him to interrogate him? Holy fuck.”

“I’m trying to stop a monster here Y/N,” she deadpanned flatly. “There’s no need for bitter behaviour.”

Exhaling loudly through your nostrils, you turned to her with a harsh glare. “I’m not jealous of you, Wednesday. The only thing that makes me mad is the fact that Xavier accepted to go with you barely a minute after I confessed to him.”

This time Wednesday’s eyebrows rose up high, probably not expecting that. She had thought that you were only jealous of her and the proximity that her invitation to Xavier might imply to a random mind. Teenagers and young adults were guided by their primal emotions after all, but you were shaking all of her certainties.

“I’m just heartbroken really,” you sighed while putting on your jacket, tears once again ready to flow, “so drop it, I’m just going to humour Enid and clear my head.”

Just as you were about to close the room’s door, you heard Wednesday speak again, “I don’t know much about romantic feelings, but I think you’re rightfully upset. Thorpe is a fool.”

That made you pause for a moment, “Yeah, I know,” you breathed out quietly.

That was the closest of a nice thing Wednesday could tell you.

Unsurprisingly, your gothic roommate abandoned the rest of your odd trio in front of the clothes store a few minutes later. She had to snoop around god-knows-where, so it was just Enid and you. The werewolf looked around, barely containing her excitement or her shopping spree. You only browsed through the racks mind-absently, not really looking at the clothes or listening to her happy banter. Which she noticed.

“Sooo, what’s with the long face?” she asked innocently. “You’re not one to usually skip parties.”

“I’m just not feeling like going this time, nothing big,” you mumbled. You hoped that Enid would drop the subject. She didn’t.

“Is this…about Wednesday?” she dared to ask, and offered you a sorry smile when you whipped your head at her. “Is this because she invited Xavier? I know you’re close to him and–”

“This is not about Wednesday,” you snapped at her, irritably. Why did people keep assuming you had the role of the jealous bitch?

Enid’s slight jump made you sigh; you shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. “Look, it’s just…I’m tired, okay? Besides, this isn’t about Wednesday, it’s about Xavier.”

Your roommate’s face suddenly lit up and she gasped, “You’re jealous of Xavier?? You mean you and Wednesday–”

You frowned while letting out a surprised laugh, “What? No! If anything, she’s more your type than mine.”

Enid’s cheeks lit up slightly, “She’s not!” she defended herself fiercely – too much to be honest. You chuckled; you definitely had to tease her about this later.

“Your type involves two kinds of people: love-stuck but dumb gorgons and mysterious unfazed goth girls,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“This- this- this isn’t about me, don’t try to escape the subject!” she sputtered, cheeks flaming red. “And wait a minute? Did you say that the problem was Xavier? Oh my god,” she beamed, “did you finally realize that you loved him? That’s so great!!”

Your face darkened at that and you cast your eyes elsewhere to hide your shame, “Not really no,” you whispered. “He doesn’t love me back.”

“What??” screamed Enid, loud enough for a few other customers to glare at your pair. You threw them a sorry look before giving Enid a disapproving stare. “What?” she repeated, whisper-shouting this time, “what do you mean he doesn’t love you? He totally does!”

“Well, turns out he doesn’t,” you said in a sad tone you couldn’t hold back. “I kissed him and…and he told me that he doesn’t love me back, end of the story.”

She stood there, mouth agape in utter shock. At her frozen face, you only shrugged weakly like it was nothing.

“What? But how? This can’t be, you guys are like the most likely future couple in the whole school!”

Tears burned your eyes and you tried so hard to not let them fall. “Well, since he agreed to go to the Rave’n with Wednesday less than five minutes after I told him…guess it’s pretty much obvious.”

“He did WHAT?” shouted Enid, earning a few angry glares once more. But she couldn’t care less, she was furious. “And you were there??”

You nodded weakly. “I heard them, yeah.”

“That FUCKER, you just kissed him and confess to him and he has the audacity to say yes to another girl’s invite? Argh!” she ranted, throwing her hand in the air ragefully. “The nerve of that piece of shit!”

“Woah Enid Sinclair, you kiss your dad with that mouth?” you chuckled, slightly taken aback by the loss of her temper.

“Yeah and I have every right, I’m fucking mad at him Y/N!” she fumed, angrily putting back a dress she had been holding for that time. “He acted like a dick and now you’re miserable!”

“It’s nothing Enid,” you mumbled.

She grabbed your hand over the rack with pleading eyes. “He broke your heart Y/N, this isn’t nothing.”

You gulped slowly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. Even with trembling lips, you managed to articulate something, “It’ll pass eventually.” Squeezing her hand lightly, you tried to give her the most reassuring look you could put on.

The sad wincing she let out was heartbreaking, “Oh girl…”

Whipping your tears you refocused on the clothes on the rack.

“So,” you said more lightly, clearly trying to change the subject, “what do you want to wear? I think you’ll look terrific in feathers.”

The bone-crushing hug she tugged you in surprised you, almost squeezing all air out of you. Enid had come around the rack so quickly you hadn’t even noticed her coming over to tackle you in a bear hug.

“Woah, calm down wolfie,” you chuckled weakly, “what with the sudden burst of affection?”

Her laugh was muffled by the way her face was buried in your shoulder, “Don’t act so surprised, you know this was coming. This is your roommate’s heartbreak mandatory hug.”

You wanted to reply something, but honestly, the words were stuck in your throat. Tears prevented you from saying anything. So instead, you returned the hug, hands gripping tightly Enid’s back. It was warm, friendly and frankly, the kindest thing someone had ever done to you for the past few days. You let yourself sink into the hug, letting its warmth envelop you in much-needed affection. When a small sob rocked your body, you realized how much you had craved that.

Slightly tugging away from the hug, Enid took both of your hands, “Look I know everything feels like shit right now, but let me help you with this okay? Come to the ball, it’ll lift your spirit a little. Just between us girls, in our best outfits, drinking cheap cocktails, and dancing to lame electro music until our feet bleed, it’ll be fun!”

Her joyful tone made you smile. In a way, it might be the last party you would attend…the disease was already quite serious, and now that Xavier had rejected you, the chances of healing had simply vanished away. So if you had not much longer to live, why not have the more fun you could? Why not experience everything you could since it’ll soon be over? One last party before the dark no matter how your chest ached.

“Fuck Xavier and his ungrateful ass,” continued Enid, “you’re gonna have fun and enjoy this ball like the queen you are, okay roomie? And don’t you dare turn this down because I–”

“I’ll come,” you cut her off.

“Because believe m– you what?”

“I will come to the Rave’n,” you repeated with a weak but honest smile. “Independent women don’t need anybody, right?”

She beamed at you as she realized that you quoted her and brought you into another bone-crushing hug. Her heartwarming reaction made you laugh; she was right, you could use the Rave’n to change your mind, even if it wouldn’t be so easy. But Enid had this strange power of convincing people to do what was best for them. Maybe she was the witch in your dorm after all.

Spending the rest of the day snooping around the shop and digging to find perfect outfits had the merit to alleviate your pain and forget about the flowers a little. This was all you could ask for these days.

To say that you were excited about the Rave’n was an exaggeration. Three days or so before the ball, you had a newfound thrill about it thanks to Enid, but your mood had decreased in the meantime. First, because your health hadn’t gone better despite the potion you’ve been taking. It slowed down the growing process, sure, but weed killer was still poison. And second, words had spread that Xavier had dumped Wednesday for the Rave’n. This didn’t sadden you per se, but a small, naive part of yourself had secretly hoped that he would invite you instead. This was silly but for the briefest moment, you had thought that he would, at least because you were best friends. He didn’t.

So it was half-heartedly that you applied some light make-up before the dance, your white outfit hanging on the door of your closet. Enid’s energy was barely enough to make you smile but you had promised her you would come. When her date came to pick her up at the door she gave you an excited wave of the hand, reminding you to find her later when you arrive at the party. She didn’t want to rush you or pressure you if you didn’t want to arrive this early, and you were grateful for that. The more time passed, the more your already thin will to go seemed to vanish. And yet, you sighed and grabbed your outfit with you to get changed in the bathroom. While you had felt empty most of the day, something tiny and warmth erupted in you when you got a look at yourself in the mirror once changed. You had picked long white palazzo pants, with an equally white corset top that showed off your shoulders and arms; flowy thin off-the-shoulder sleeves gave an impression of weightlessness like it was effortless to be here. Perfect to hide the reality of the pain dragging along your steps. But…the longer you looked at yourself in the mirror, the stronger this pleasant - albeit quite weak - feeling grew. For the first time, you actually found yourself pretty. The discreet silver embroidery of stars and constellations on the corset and the platform heels of your favourite colour were nice additions. Of a sudden, you started to feel nostalgic. In a way, this night was your last outing with a large crowd of people you knew, and most of them would probably never see you again. A strange feeling of confidence rushed by; not the one when you feel powerful by the way you look or carry yourself, but one of the ethereal moments, frozen in time yet ephemeral. You hadn't particularly made a difference in your short life but at least you were glad that you could shine for one last dance, clothed in white before the red of your blood would take over.

Whipping a treacherous tear that had made its way to the corner of your eye, you then squared your shoulders. With a last long inspiration for strength, you exited the bathroom.

Seeing your other roommate packing a bag, you frowned slightly.

"You're going somewhere?"

"Eugene and I are going to watch over the cave we discovered," she said simply, packing a flashlight, "it's highly likely to be the monster's den."

"Eugene? Ottinger?" you asked, surprised by her unconventional choice of companion. At her sharp nod, your face turned into a concerned expression. "I'm glad he's with you then, but…be careful, okay?"

She snapped her head in your direction, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Yeah, but Eugene's not. He's a good kid, he doesn't deserve to be hurt," you insisted.

You didn't know Eugene Ottinger that well, firstly because he was younger and a class below you, but you had met him on various occasions especially about bees when some of your potions required honey. But he was a kind boy, and the knowledge that he was going close to a supposed monster nest wasn't reassuring at all.

And seemingly, Wednesday saw your worry and you could swear that you saw her hardened expression ease a little.

"He will be safe with me," she said. "Besides I'm the only one allowed to torture him. Bee code."

That pulled a small smile out of you. Under her tough armour, Wednesday actually had a soft side. Not wanting to push it further, you quietly made your way to the door; no need to delay the party further. Swinging the door open, you stopped dead in your tracks at the unexpected sight of a familiar figure. Tyler stood there dressed head to toe in white, fidgeting nervously.

“Oh,” he said, almost as surprised as you. “Hi Y/N.”

“Galpin,” you greeted dryly.

He scratched the back of his head, mouth opening like he was about to say something. You swore that if he was about to sweet-talk you by making an actual compliment you were going to punch him. Fortunately for him, he didn’t. “Is- uh, is Wednesday here?”

You arched an eyebrow at his question. Or more accurately, at Tyler Galpin being at your dorm room dressed to the nines and asking for your roomie. “Sure,” you said, “Wednesday, there’s someone for you.”

She said something about Eugene being on time and you didn’t need to look at her to feel her freeze next to you when she reached the door. A very awkward beat passed, and then you decided that you definitely didn’t want to witness the strange conversation that would follow. Slipping away you caught a brief look at Thing hiding inside the room. This was going to be an interesting story to hear about later.

Going down the stairs of the Ophelia wing, you started to get cold feet about this party. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, after all? But before you even thought about going back to your dorm you were already at the party, and Enid had definitely seen you. Her enthusiastic gasp made some of your friends’ heads turn.

“Y/N, you look so pretty!” she exclaimed as you approached them, shyly greeting the rest of them.

Ajax let out a low whistle, “Well, none of you told us this was an actual fashion show or what.”

“Nice outfit, I second the shoes,” said Yoko with a smirk.

“Thanks guys,” you said almost shyly.

“You’re like Glenda the witch of the East!” beamed Enid, which made some of the others chuckle.

You thanked her and went to grab the two of you some drinks. Apparently, her date was supposed to but he stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the Nevermore students' crowd. Returning with the blue drinks in hand you cheered with the small group of friends, swinging gently at the music rhythm while everyone arrived. You even caught sight of Principal Weems, a somehow proud smile plastered on her face as she chaperoned the whole party. Everyone seemed to have a good time and it warmed your heart. One of your last memories of your school and its students, it was a good one.

But then, you heard Enid gasp.

“Oh my god, look who’s there.”

You whipped your head, expecting the surprise appearance of Wednesday at Tyler’s arm – if she hadn’t eaten him alive first. Instead, you felt your heart leap in your throat like a freezing iceberg to the bottom of the ocean. Cladded in white and hair tightly brought in a bun like he often did, Xavier walked in. And on his arm in a stunning silver backless dress, Bianca. Before you could stop yourself you choked on your drink, a coughing fit rocking your whole body ungracefully.

“Shit, you’re alright?” immediately asked Enid.

You wiped the corner of your mouth slightly, just to make sure you didn’t actually drool on yourself. “Yeah,” you mumbled, “be right back, ‘m gonna fetch me another drink.”

Dodging her questions or the questioning looks of people around you sped to the minibar. Once you made sure no one saw you, you hurled over your drink and let a large white bloodied flower drown down your glass. The red blood distilled into the blue tint of the cocktail, melting like deadly poison. That made you wince and you put down your drink on the table, hidden behind some bottles. You picked another clean glass of this whatever-virgin cocktail and waved discreetly your hand above it. Taking a sharp swing of it you were secretly glad to feel the familiar sting down your frown. At least you still had enough power to cast this spell transforming water into liquor. This night was going to require much stronger than soft drinks.

From that moment, the Rave’n took a more bittersweet turn for you. It was hard to not glance at Xavier or Bianca – which, if you had done, would have made you realize that the vibes were awkwardly cold between the two of them. Even though Enid and Yoko tried to distract you, dragging you to the dance floor and trying to make you laugh. Their antics worked as you ended up swaying and dancing along to the loud techno music, pretending it didn’t pierce your ear drums. You didn’t even flinch at Wednesday’s sudden appearance, her black dress parting the crowd of white outfits like the red sea. It wasn’t your time to care, nor did you want to. The glass of booze you had certainly helped; you weren’t drunk, not even tipsy, just feeling light-headed enough to tune down, for a few minutes, the aching pain in your heart. The feeling of weightlessness was numbing and soothing, but not enough to forget the plaguing thought of your sickness. Or the weight of Xavier’s rejection, rubbed in your face by his arrival with Bianca.

When a more slow song started, this artificial euphoria wore off slowly. And the feeling of your loneliness became very real again. The room became too crowded, too much to handle and you walked out of it, like a zombie. Finding a seat outside you plopped down unceremoniously. Your legs ached, maybe you had tired yourself out in the end. As tiredness sank into your bones, numbness overtook you whole once again. Not quite like before, like a soothing caress, more like a piercing melancholy wrapping around you like a comforting, yet exclusive blanket. Nothing had felt more empty before, but your lonely being with eyes haggard and heart bleeding out of your chest.

The sound of a deep sigh made you realize that someone had taken a seat near you, and you were surprised to see none other than Bianca on the other side of the sofa. She didn’t look too happy either.

Unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you blurted.

“Are you alright?”

The siren whipped her head to you, icy blue eyes half throwing daggers, half…sad?

“Why do you care?”

Her harsh tone could sound rude, but you knew better than that. Your question had been incredibly random, you weren’t even sure that Bianca actually wished to talk with you, but you recognized the hurt in her eyes.

At your unfazed expression, she sighed once again, “I’m sorry for that,” she excused herself, “this was uncalled for.”

You only shrugged, “I guess this is what I get for spoiling your evening.”. Bianca’s eyebrows rose slightly at your bitter tone. This wasn’t usual for you.

“You’re not the one ruining my night, trust me,” she mumbled, glancing at the ballroom.

Following her gaze, your eyes landed on Xavier, sitting at one of the tables and gaze locked on Wednesday and her date. His knuckles were white and his jaw clenched. If this sight made your heart break a little more, you were pretty sure that Bianca’s did too.

The siren sighed and accepting her defeat, slumped in her seat. Bianca Barclay never slumped.

“He’s not mine anymore, isn’t he?” she whispered out loud.

Your eyes widened at her. Of all people you really didn’t expect Bianca to confide in you. Sensing your disbelief she turned her blue eyes to you. They were glossy with tears.

“I’m not sure I’m the one who can help you with that,” you said with a sorry look.

She scoffed lightly, but the sad look was still plaguing her traits, “I think you can, Y/N. Since when do you love him, exactly?”

The question slightly took you aback. When they had started dating, Bianca had kind of cornered you to give you the classic speech, new girlfriend to best friend, halfway to threats, and had asked you if you loved Xavier then. You had to say no. But now…this wasn’t the same prideful, powerful and confident girl, looking forward to ensuring her superiority. This was the teary-eyed, heartbroken girl who seek answers to get some sort of closure. Who were you to deny her that?

So you sighed, and cast your eyes on your lap, “A long time,” you muttered quietly.

She hummed knowingly; this may be the first time you actually heard her being tired. “To be honest, I was glad he accepted my invitation,” she told you, like confidence. “But I was surprised he didn’t invite you first.”

You coughed weakly, not even bothering to be careful of Bianca seeing the eventual petals that could come out. “Yeah me too,” you whispered, “but it doesn’t matter now.”

Bianca tilted her head, a bit surprised by your words, “Yes it does.”. At your raised eyebrow, she nodded in Xavier’s direction. “Wednesday’s not the only one occupying his mind tonight. He may think he got a poker face, but he doesn’t.”

Out of reflex, you looked once again at Xavier. The blue and yellow lights of the party shone on him, highlighting each of his sharp features. A sob made its way into your throat and you blocked it just before it escaped your mouth. Everything just hurt so much.

“I don’t know what happened between you two recently,” said Bianca with an unknown softness, “but he does care. He worries about you, I know that”

A cough wrecked your body, allowing petals and flowers to fly out of your mouth through your painful throat. Clamping a hand over your mouth under the siren’s perplexed eyes, you sighed in relief when the fit ended. Opening your hand to see as usual blood-coated flowers, you felt your chest ache.

“Well, maybe his concerns won’t be enough this time,” you said weakly. Throwing away the flowers carelessly you avoided Bianca’s concerned gaze. “Maybe I should’ve thought about myself first, for once.”

She let out a dry and tired laugh, “I second that. Maybe I should have too.”

You offered a weak smile. No matter how much you both had, or loved Xavier, you couldn’t deny anymore the hurt it brought upon you. Especially upon you.

“I’m sorry for having invited Xavier,” finally muttered Bianca.

You shrugged, “Don't be. You had every right to try your chance. I knew this might happen”

She nodded, silently appreciating the lack of hate. You were far too tired to give that. “What made you come here, then?”

Remembering your roommate’s words, you smiled a little, “Something along the line of independent women not needing anybody.”

Bianca chuckled at that. Whoever told you that was right.

The arrival of another siren, blessedly unaware of the unexpected and open-heart conversation that had been going on, distracted Bianca from you. Her ability to put on a bright smile in the blink of an eye impressed you. You took that as your cue and got up, returning to the party before Enid or anyone would get worried. This strange bonding time reminded you why you had come in the first place: no matter how broken your heart was, this was about you and getting one last fun night before the dark.

No one could really tell for how long you had been dancing again. Arms up, flowing along the music like nothing around you mattered. In a way, it did. Blurry faces of your friends and smiles that you didn’t know who they belonged to. It was like your mind had blacked out from the rest. Nothing could reach you; not the plaguing thought of your upcoming passing, not the burning sensation through your lungs, the tickling and bitter scrap of petals trying to crawl out of your throat, or the heavy burden of your broken heart. It was just you; for the first time, it was just you and it didn’t frighten you so much anymore.

A warm drop sliding down your forehead broke you out of your trance, making your eyes flutter open. All the students were still dancing without the slightest care of the world, and you thought that you had maybe imagined things. Reaching for the damp spot, you brushed your fingers against it and gave them a look. A sticky, deep red liquid coated them. And before you could wonder what was happening, all hell broke loose. Torrential rain of blood sprouted out of the room’s sprinklers, drenching everyone in the blink of an eye. All the white outfits turned into a deep crimson shade and scream erupted everywhere. Terrified students ran, trying to find cover the best they could, and in the middle of it all, you stood frozen in place.

As soon as the bloody liquid had started to pour it had been like reality had come crashing in. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to run away, to find a shelter; but your eyes were stuck on your trembling hands, bathed in red. Flashes of white flowers and petals echoed in front of your eyes in a never-ending fall, your heart started to spin and suddenly you couldn’t hear anything but the loud and panicked beats of your heart. Like an infernal spiral, your mind started to fall apart, replaying uncomplete scenes in your head; the burning sensation in your chest, tearing your body apart as you gagged blood mixed with flowers, the vision like from far away, of your own body losing grip on itself and laying cold on the ground for merely seconds that still felt like hours, the waking up in cold sweat in the middle of the night, trying to scream but being unable to because of your throat stuffed with petals. God, why did anybody hear the deafening thumping of your blood behind your temples? They were so loud, and your chest, it ached so much! Maybe somebody was calling out for you, you didn’t know. It felt like your head was stuck in cotton wool, and your body trapped within the spiralling of your own mind. And why did it hurt so much, why couldn’t your chest burst open once and for—

“Y/N!!” shouted a voice over the terrified screams. “Y/N we have to go!”

You knew that voice, that you were certain of it. It was the grip on your arm that made you snap back into reality a second later. Drenched in red, Xavier looked at you with frightened eyes.

“You heard me? We have to go!” he repeated.

It took your brain a few more seconds to reconnect fully to reality. It wasn’t fast enough for your legs to register how to walk on your own, so Xavier had to drag you along behind him, trying to reach the room’s exit the quickest way possible. You wondered how long it had taken him to notice that you hadn’t tried to get out on your own.

Someone bumping into you managed to get your mind focused fully again. Catching the smaller frame of Wednesday out of reflex, you immediately noticed that something was wrong. Eyes blown wide and head thrown backwards, something was going on. Immediately, you and Xavier tried to call her, to get her out of this frightening trance. She gasped for air merely a second after, like someone had just resurrected her.

“Eugene’s in danger,” she whispered immediately.

“What?? You let him go on his own?” you snapped back.

“He’s in the woods he’s in danger, I see him he’s in danger,” she continued to ramble, almost like a chant.

Swearing under your breath, you immediately let go of Wednesday muttering a hurried “keep an eye on her” to a flabbergasted Xavier; then you didn’t waste a single second and sprinted out of the room. Damn be your newfound motto about thinking about putting yourself first, you weren’t going to let that kid die.

Reaching the outlines of the wood you cursed loudly at your impractical platforms and quickly got rid of them. Then your erratic run resumed.

“Eugene!” you called from the top of your lungs. “Eugene, where are you?!”

Nothing but silence answered you but you didn’t give up and continued to run, hoping to not be too late. A harsh burning clamped your heart, maybe from the running; it seemed that you didn’t register anymore the petals your body unconsciously rejected now. It roamed through your lungs, making it difficult to breathe now. A sharp wheeze escaped your mouth as a particular rough fit of coughing shook your body, forcing you to stop your run for a moment, leaning on a nearby tree for support. Your lungs tugged on themselves, trying to cling to air for your dear life but nothing could go past through your blood and flowers-filled throat. You choked on nothing, tears springing from the corners of your eyes.

Before you could regain control of your own body, your knees buckled under you and you dropped onto the muddy forest floor, wheezing and clawing at your throat. You gurgled and heaved up a large group of flowers bathing in blood. The feeling of it dripping on your chin and petals stuck inside your mouth wasn’t even the worst.

Then your ears picked up something in the distance. Ever so faintly, a weeping sound. Like pleas, a rasping voice weakly calling out for help.

“Eugene,” you whispered.

Out of instinct, you tried to push yourself standing but your legs flinched under your own weight and you fell limply on the ground. Some more blood escaped your half-opened mouth, dripping on your chest with the other discarded flowers. Eyelids feeling heavy, you started to feel lightheaded as the world around you began to swirl. You tried to move, but even lifting your hand felt impossible.

The sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, but you couldn’t find the strength to turn over to see who it was. Then without a warning, they turned you over, back on the ground. Wednesday.

“Y/N, did you see the monster? Where’s Eugene??”

Any word that you tried to form came out as pathetic gurgling sounds. The Addams’ eyes flickered to your blood-covered chin, then to the flowers on your chest and on the ground.

“How did that happen?” she asked hurriedly, “did you see Eugene??”

Finally managing to articulate something, you croaked, “...further…down…heard him…please hurry…”

She gripped your hand, looking like she was torn apart between staying with you or looking out for your lost comrade. Sensing her dilemma even with a blurred mind, you weakly squeezed her hand back as an encouragement.

“Go help…him…’f not too late…”

She nodded frantically, almost trembling, “Others are on their way Y/N,” she tried to reassure you, “hold on tight, okay? You’re going to make it.”

You could only nod weakly. But as Wednesday was about to get up, an unknown surge of panic gave you enough energy to grip her forearm tightly. Snapping her head back at you, her eyes widened even more at the pleading expression that faced her.

“Please…” you whimpered, “don’t…don’t let him…see me like this…”

Tears roamed down your cheeks freely, and you felt your strength leave your body with every passing second.

“What?” she asked in confusion.

You wheezed weakly, “d…don’t let him think…think…that it w…as his f-fault,” you pleaded before letting your gripping hand fall on the floor with a thud.

The following seconds felt like hours. The weight of your body seemed enough to bury you in the ground. Some shouts were heard in the distance. Before your mind blacked out, you remembered the shouting voice of Xavier screaming your name. Then the night took over.

The smell of sanitized belongings was the first thing your brain registered when you emerged into consciousness again. Then the white light, blinding even behind closed eyelids. You heard and felt your whole body groan in pain. It was considerably tuned down from what you were used to, still, soreness erupted through your limbs. After a solid minute of struggling you finally opened your eyes.

Awakening in a hospital bed wasn’t something you had ever wished for in your life. Yet, here you were apparently. Taking a look around with groggy eyes, you didn’t even notice a nurse walking by, or her saying something about notifying your legal guardian. It was only a few minutes later when Principal Weems entered your room that you connected the dots. At least, the best you could with your still fuzzy brain.

“Miss L/N,” she said in a soft tone that was tainted with relief, “I’m glad you’re finally awake.”

“I- how long was I out?” you rasped, tongue feeling pasty.

“Almost an entire day,” answered the principal, closing the door behind her. “How are you feeling?”

You winced slightly, a lingering pain piercing your chest still, “Sore. What happened? Did- did you find Eugene?”

Weems pursed her lips but still nodded, “Mr Ottinger is fine, he’s currently getting some treatment in this hospital as well.”

You let out a relieved sigh. At least, Eugene was safe; but she still hadn’t answered all your questions.

As she could read your mind, Weems approached your bed, a serious look on her face.

“Miss Addams and Mister Thorpe found you in the woods,” she started. At the mention of Xavier’s name, your eyes widened in panic. Oh no, what had he seen? How much did he know? Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at your reaction but still carried on, “It seemed that you had passed out from hypoglycemia; at least, that is what both of them believe.”

Her words made you frown slightly, not quite understanding where she was getting at. The serious look on her face, cold like a stone, didn't make you feel any better. But at the same time, you thought you could detect…sadness?

Principal Weems sat on the chair next to your bed and pulled out a folder from her bag.

“The doctors who had auscultated you gave me this,” she said, pulling two blue and white plastic sheets.

The first glance at the x-rays was enough for you to know exactly what it was about.

“We need to talk about whatever this is, miss L/N.”

[Part.6]

A/N: sooo I know I've promised some fluff but this was already so long omg, it'll be on the next part :') Enid roasting Xavier is my new religion not gonna lie (and I couldn't resist hinting a small Enid x Wednesday I'm weak okay) Also: can we please talk about Bianca's outfit at the Rave'n??? I like this character a lot honestly, because well...she's relatable as fuck. I thought she was going to be branded as the cliché school bitch but she's just a teenage girl who's dealing with shitty family problems and broke up with her boyfriend in a kind of rocky way. Yeah, maybe some petty behaviour at the beginning of the show was bitchy, but she's a teenager; we all were bitchy somehow Anyway, I hope you liked this part, I'm currently working on the next, take care of you♥♥

Taglist: [COMPLETE AND CURRENTLY HAVING A BREAKDOWN] Edit: wtf it works now??

@apocalypticnova @libdarkheart @ameliabs-world @certifeidlovergirl @aeisnoa @cat-loves-music @coolchick333 @eringaitskill @sweaterxav @sssleepless @l4venderia @persipeoni @coldheartedmar @littlebabyk @pinksirensong @nushy @raribella @igotanidea @ali-r3n @chaosfrisur @miinnttyy @hershey2813

@cafeaueva @queenofshinigamis @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @imtherealslimmoony @one-oblivious-nerd @amphitritesangels @valckenaux @aliciahlewis @lilsunshine1092 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ahmya-4 @katkoosik @maggie-da-rat @hopelessnessforthehopeful @mk-the-great @neenieweenie @steviesbergthuis @rayliz793 @poison-ivy-737

@katiemrty @vanillaarr @corpsebridenightamare @ghswlz @siriusblacksl0ver @poppyalice2001 @mypsychoticlove @jointherebellion215 @siriwhitewolf @teaganthemorningstar @oblivion-void @fandomstoryreader25 @darkdaydreamer @engenelxver @maddiechapman15 @hannahnikohl @pajerita19 @i-like-trains @tinafuentes @slngarza @lqveharrington @honethatty12 @users09 @honestlyka @athenalive @sunnytkm23 @mjpark15 @joselyn001 @mermaid-painter @sagegreeeeen @hayleesworld96 @sunnyteume @itssomeonereading @vaebeau @spencershotwife @negasonicteenagefathead @ @flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo 3475 @hes-club

(don’t hesitate to tell me if I’ve forgotten you on the taglist, there had been some issues with it recently so I might have missed some usernames, if so I apologize :D)

#xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe fanfic #reader insert #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday addams #wednesday #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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cowboybeepboop · 2 years ago

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Hawaiian hangout

“Mm this is my favorite song, what about you Darling? Do you like it?” “It’s nice, but I don’t like slow rides, I like going fast,”

Pairing: Hangman x fem! Reader

Genre: plot with some porn

Word count: 2928

Summary: Hangman has a thing for you but your relationship with Rooster makes him jealous. You’re a badass who is the best of the best and this shows when you and Mav get into a “fight”.

A/N: I don’t usually give the reader a callsign cause I think it’s fun to make up your own but for this oneshot I made the readers callsign Darling because her superior (the guy from the academy) who gave it to her thought it was fitting because she’s innocent and sweet looking on the outside but in the sky she’ll out fight anyone in a dog fight. Basically he’d call her Daring Darling, or DD, since no one saw her as a threat at first and also because she loved the DareDevil comics. Anyways this is just some random ass info I made up, it gives nothing to this so like yeah idk I was just bored. Also I fr based the friendship on my friends and I’s relationship because I think we’re absolutely hilarious no questions asked and for some reason everyone thinks we’re dating. ALSO I WROTE THIS ENTIRE THING WHILE MY MOM WAS NEXT TO ME ON A ROAD TRIP SOS I CAN’T STAND MYSELF. Anyways saw Top Gun: Maverick for the 5th time and met some really cool older women today.

Bradley has been your best friend forever, since kindergarten when he “accidently” pulled your pigtails and you started crying. His only excuse was that they were uneven and he was trying to help, fucking idiot. He does that a lot though, he’ll try to help and end up making a bigger issue out of it, for instance this exact moment when he spilt red wine on your white dress and poured white wine on top to “even it out”. Now you’re fresh out of the shower, smelling like Bradshaw’s coconut shampoo and wine.

“Hey, Brad. Got anything I can wear? I mean after all you did wreck my dress, twice,” you giggle with a teasing smile, he scratches the back of his neck and hands you a pair of your old shorts and one of his Hawaiian shirts.

“That's all I could find, I must have left your wardrobe at my mom’s storage place.” shrugging you take the clothes from him, smiling sweetly.

“Don’t worry about it duckie,” he rolls his eyes and puts his best mom face on, standing with his hands on his hips.

“It’s Rooster, not duck,” he puts on a dramatic performance, throwing his head back, hand over his heart, “I can’t believe you don’t even know my callsign, after all of these years.” one last exaggerated sigh before he falls back on the couch.

“Damn, did the shock kill you?” your eyes light up with mischiv, as long as he’s pretending to be dead I mean you might as well, you tickle his sides watching him fight back a fit of laughter.

“Come on Y/N you should get changed, we’re supposed to go meet Phoenix soon,” he sits up grabbing your arms and pinning them to your sides with a sweet smile.

“Shit, I almost forgot about that,” you quickly grab the clothes, throwing on the shorts and his white Hawaiian shirt, leaving it unbuttoned showing off your white cropped tank top. “I think we’re actually a little late,” he grabs his keys and puts his hand on your waist pulling you out the door with him.

“Well, I intend on surprising her anyway,” he locks the door and hops in his jeep. You follow suit, getting into the passenger side sighing at the heat that hits your thighs as they touch the dark leather seats.

“This is torture, I’m burning alive,” Bradley shakes his head while starting the engine, you buckle up pulling the seatbelt under your left arm so it doesn’t sufocate you.

“That defeats the purpose of the seatbelt, you’re supposed to have it over your chest,” he teases as you glare into the side of his face.

“It’s uncomfortable, it’s suffocating my chest,” he puts his free hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly.

“I know, I just wanted to piss you off,” Bradly smiles innocently as he keeps his eyes on the road, you flip him off secretly. “I saw that, Darling” he glances over to you raising his eyebrows slightly, “You’re gonna have to be more careful next time,”.

“Ouch, you’re being real serious Bradley. You even used my callsign,” you fegin shock covering your mouth theatrically. That’s the thing about your relationship with Bradley, the majority of the time you guys are being dramatic, which really confuses people because they don’t understand your guy’s comedic geniusness.

Bradley pulls into a parking spot, he gets out of the jeep and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door and offering you his hand. You roll your eyes “You go first Brad, I’ll go in, in like a minute,” he nods his head and salutes you.

“I’ll see you in a minute then,” you wave him off pulling a thing of chapstick out and applying it, you check your phone and reply to a couple texts. Mentally preparing yourself for the loudness of the bar, sticking your phone into your pocket before climbing out of the vehicle. You run a hand through your hair while walking through the bar entrance, “Hey, Y/N over here,” Bradley calls you over while holding his stomach softly.

You go up to the bar to order two beers, you end up standing right next to Maverick, “Can I please get two beers Penny?” she nods with a sweet smile, “Oh shit, Mav I didn’t notice you earlier,”.

“Hey, Y/N, how’s it going?” He smiles while sticking his phone into his pocket.

“I’m good, how about you,” you sit down on the empty stool next to him, keeping your attention directly on him.

“I could be better,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you should head over to Bradley, he’s waiting for you.” you nod, standing up to get the beers and thank Penny, “One more thing though,”

“What is it?” you search his serious eyes looking for any hints about what he might ask of you.

“Could you maybe not tell Bradley that I’m back in town just yet?” Maverick scratches the back of his neck while his eyes go softer pleading with yours.

“Of course, Mav,” you smile and lean in for a hug, he wraps his arms around your waist gently while using his thumb to rub up and down your back. You pull back from the hug, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

You weave in between a few groups while making your way over to Rooster and Phoenix, once you get to the pool table you pull your sunglasses up leaving them on top of your head. “Here Bradley,” you hand him a beer, taking the other as you sit next to Bob, “Hey, Bobby boy. How’s the man, the myth, the legend?” he smiles as he pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. The familiar blond man turns his attention on you, looking you up and down with a small smirk.

“I’m good now that you’re here,” you smile, showing your slightly pointy canines.

“Fuck, Bob you know just how to get my heart racing,” you stare into his eyes before he looks away, a soft blush creeping up his neck.

“You know him?” Hangman questions as Bradley pops up behind you taking your glasses from your head, folding them up and hanging them on the collar of your shirt.

“Yeah, he’s my favorite weapons systems officer,” you smile while placing your hand on his shoulder. “He’s always focused and has never made a mistake, it’s too bad they don’t let me fly with an RIO anymore,” you sigh dramatically while he admires you from the side, Rooster rolls his eyes.

“You know, the higher ups would let you fly with an RIO if you weren’t such a maniac,” you pretend to be offended as you shove his arm away from your side.

“Ugh, you’re so mean to me all the time,” Hangman is not so subtly checking you out while you and Bradshaw bicker. Phoenix interrupts you two trying to stop your random argument.

“So, Y/N I’ve been wondering something for a while,” she pulls Bradley by his shirt softly, you nod at her motioning for her to continue, “why is your callsign Darling? Isn’t that kind of misogynistic?” Phoenix’s comment draws everyone’s attention to you.

You laugh softly, “It does seem like that doesn’t it? It’s just something my parents nicknamed me when I was younger and my commander thought it was fitting for me. But,” you smile softly, “People usually call me DD,”.

“Before you ask the meaning of that,” Rooster laughs, “you’ll have to wait until you see her fly to fully understand.” He sounds like a proud dad while talking about you.

“I also have a question,” Coyote raises his eyebrows, “Why are you wearing Roosters shirt?”.

“He ruined the dress I was wearing earlier,” you shrug and Coyote’s eyes slightly widen as he coughs. Hangman’s jaw clenches while he narrows his eyes on Bradley.

Slow ride starts playing, “Mm this is my favorite song, what about you Darling? Do you like it?” Hangman smirks flashing his perfect white teeth.

“It’s nice, but I don’t like slow rides, I like going fast,” you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip keeping an intense stare on Hangman.

Penny rings the bell again, Hangman, Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy take Mav out. You chew on your cheek while going over to the bar, “Hey, Pen, I’ll pay Mav’s tab,” she hands you the check.

“It’s a pretty big bill,” she warns you but you already had your wallet pulled out, you hand her your card.

“It’s fine, I have a lot saved up,” you smile sweetly, Bradley pulls the cord on the jukebox, taking his beer over to the piano.

“Are you sure, love?” you nod, she swipes the card and then hands it back to you with the receipt. Rooster motions for you to come over.

You go over to him and he sings to you “You broke my will, but what a thrill,” Bradley pulls you onto his lap and you start singing with him.

“Kiss me baby,” you hold his cheeks, kissing him on the forehead, “Ooh, that feels good, baby”, he smirks looking you up and down. You giggle as you continue to sing in sync with him, nodding your head with the beat of the song. Hangman clenches his fists, sucking his teeth, shifting his jaw in anger.

_________

Things between you and Maverick have been a little tense since he found out about how you paid his tab, not to mention the tension between him and Rooster putting even more strain on your friendship with Maverick. The funny thing is Maverick told you not to fly like you usually do, you’re way more skilled in dog fighting than the rest of the pilots from your previous training and missions, your goal is to train for the mission with the rest of the team rather than gain more skills; however, Maverick went ahead and pushed your buttons. You’re the first pilot up which means you’re supposed to lose like everyone else and do the 200 push ups, but with Maverick’s intensity and Bob’s encouragement you’ve found yourself flying like your life depends on it.

Maverick’s plane is right on your ass, both hands grab your centre stick, pulling toward your midsection. Your plane shoots up, “Holy shit,” Hangman's voice rings through your ears as you switch directions heading straight for Mav. He pulls up trying to level with you, you flip upside down, narrowly missing his “shot”, you push the centre stick opposite of your body swooping low.

Maverick locates you once again, he creeps closer to your tail, before you hastily pull up. You’re upside down (again) hovering over Mavericks plane, “Fuck she’s on his fucking tail,” Hangman is sat back watching you two fight.

Your engine stalls and you direct your plane away from Maverick’s, you’re headed straught for the ground, “Fucking hell, my engine stopped,” you keep hitting the buttons grabbing your centre stick, still none of your efforts make a difference.

“Eject, Y/N eject right now,” Maverick yells as he follows your tail, at this point you’re hitting the hard deck.

You’re finally able to gain control of the engine again, you pull up as fast as you can. Your plane zooms past Maverick, your hands shake as you put your aim on Maverick and the beeping starts to ring out, “I gotcha Mav,”.

“Y/N get out of the sky, now.” you can hear the anger in his strong tone, your planes all touch the ground. You get out of the vehicle, hands shaking as your feet touch the ground, Mav runs over to you.

“Why the fuck did you not eject? What if you couldn’t gain control of your F-18?” you fall back on the ground, laying against the boiling pavement.

“I don’t know, can you stop yelling though. My head hurts,” you close your eyes, chest rising and falling quickly, your arms and legs feeling like jello. The rest of the team rushes down over to you and Maverick, he stays stood over you staring down at you.

“You’re reckless,” he says in a silvery tone, “you could have been seriously injured, or even killed,” Maverick nearly yells at the end of his sentence.

“In my defense I’m tired of doing push ups, I’m an amazing dog fighter I don’t even need any more training. I've already got two confirmed kills. That’s half of what you’ve got Mav, I’m good and I’m not cocky.” you sigh out, lifting your head to look at him as you sit up, “I’m fine with not winning against you or being the best but shit you’re getting on my nerves,” Rooster comes over and helps you stand up.

“Hangman, take Y/N inside and get her some water,” Mav pinches the bridge of his nose while using his other hand to wave you and Hangman off.

You unzip your uniform while walking towards the locker room, Hangman is a couple steps behind you keeping a close eye on you to make sure you don’t fall.

“Hey Darling, why doesn’t Maverick use your callsign?” Jake’s hand rests on your back as he opens the door for you, his body getting impossibly close to yours. “I mean he uses Roosters, it doesn’t make much sense that he doesn’t use yours,” he says voice barely over a whisper.

“I was his right hand man in a mission once and because he named me, my mom couldn’t think of a good name so she asked him,” you shrug, walking into the locker room peeling off your uniform that’s drenched in sweat.

“You were really good up there,” Hangman presses up against your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he breathes against your neck softly.

“Hangman, what are you doing?” his hand moves down to your thighs, spreading them a little. You instinctively lean back against him, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“Darling, you can stop me whenever you want,” he kisses your neck softly, “and please, call me Jake,” he whispers into your ear sending shivers down your body. He moves to sit down on the bench pulling you onto his lap.

“Are you okay with this?” you nod enthusiastically, biting down on your lip roughly, “No love, I need to hear you say it,” he pulls his hands back from your body.

“Fuck, please Jake. I want this, I want you,” you put his hands back on your thighs, spreading your legs for him.

“Good girl,” he smiles, biting your earlobe softly, receiving a soft moan from you. Jake pulls your soaked panties to the side, sliding his index finger between your pussy lips before landing it on your clit. He rubs slow circles around your bundle of nerves, changing the amount of pressure from time to time. You grip onto his upper arm roughly, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as your body presses into his. Pleasure shoots down your spine causing your body to shake softly, biting down on your lip you snake your other hand up to his hair pulling at the roots.

Hangman uses his free hand to grab something from his pocket, “You know Darlin’, you dropped something yesterday,” he whispers into your ear. “I didn’t think much of it, so I picked it up. But there’s something curious about this lipstick container,” fucking hell, there’s no way I dropped it here. You think to yourself while trying to stay focused on his words.

“You can imagine my shock when I opened it and..” he takes the cap off, sliding the base to the side, the dreaded quiet vibration filling your ears. He smirks against your neck as he begins peppering kisses against the warm sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Jakes movements were overwhelming, giving you zero opportunity to come up with an excuse, “I can totally explain why I have that,” your hole pulses around air, grasping for some sort of friction.

He presses the tip of the vibrator against the spot he's been massaging, swirling it around in steady circles while keeping a consistent rough pressure. “Jake,” you pant out his name, moaning into his ear.

“Is my pretty girl close?” he uses his free hand to knead one of your breasts through your shirt, you nod against his shoulder, “You’re so naughty, do you like that Rooster could walk in at any minute and see how good I make you feel?” he tightens his jaw at his mention of your chaotic friend.

You squeeze your legs tight around his hand, feeling close to your climax. He spreads your legs with one hand and his knee, “You’re being so good for me Darling, don’t disappoint me now,” he bites down on your neck softly. Jake increases the amount of pressure he’s using, causing waves of euphoria from your head to your toes.

Soft moans spill from your lips, your toes curling as the knot in your stomach snaps, Jake pulls your chin to move your lips against his. Your lips mesh passionately as he keeps pushing your orgasm, eyebrows scrunching together as overwhelming pleasure fills your body, like a warm cup of hot cocoa after a long time in the snow.

“Good girl, Darling you’re so good for me,” he whispers against your ear, he begins wiping up the warm liquid with a handkerchief from his pocket. “We need to get you cleaned up before anyone notices how long we’ve been gone for.” Jake kisses down your neck before pushing you up off his lap.

#jake seresin #jake seresin smut #top gun maverick smut #top gun hangman #top gun hangman smut #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #hangman smut #smut

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staysuki · 3 years ago

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HEARTS FULL OF HONEY | h.hj smau

after rescuing a dog in the streets, you slowly become close with the anonymous owner who was more than thankful for your help. as conversations turn deeper and a friendly bond pushes you two closer, you're yet to find out how far apart you actually are from each other.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (they're both huge nerds). slow burn idiots to lovers

genre: FLUFF FLUFF, crack, mild-angst, contemporary (mid-20s), strangers to lovers but they're also both dumb

warnings: not much (will put in warnings if smth comes up). swearing, vulgar language, if this was in the cinemas it'll probs be R-13

episodes:

01 - that guy™️

02 - when your bestfriend hates small dogs

03 - suffering at work but i get that bag

04 - that moment when someone offers you a fully paid trip to france

05 - almost exposing myself in private twt

06 - when they send a pic

07 - forgetting to change accounts

08 - even half the face is cute

09 - everybody loves new york shitty

10 - my manager is too mean

11 - becoming a fan

12 - just overall winning in life

13 - meeting the famous popstar

14 - you make me feel better

15 - i'm so scared i'm gonna shit my pants

16 - receiving anonymous flowers are either sweet or creepy

17 - your best friend missed but landed a bullseye

18 - the reason why i don't do lives is because i fuck up a lot

19 - oh is for disappointment

20 - there was definitely an attempt

21 - when i'm happy, things go to shit

22 - being with a loved one makes things easier

23 - was i smooth with that one

24 - and you thought i couldn't be worse

25 - might go down on my knees maybe

26 - i have the best family ever

27 - why are all my cousins so mean to me

28 - fortunately your best friend still doesn't know

29 - meeting the famous popstar (2)

30 - when it's hard to know people's motives

31 - can't help but be a fan

32 - people love bullying me

33 - when someone comes over so you gotta clean

34 - the moment of failure was there

35 - ready to risk it all

36 - when his older cousin comes for you

37 - manager has your back

to be updated...

(mm/dd/yy)

date started: 06/01/22

date finished: -

mastertag: @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @ethereallino @ninjaleeknow @trials--error @hey-i-really-miss-you @multifandomizer @aerastus @caratinylyfe @kdhvier @hibuki-chan @blaaiissee @skzoddinaries @suhnnyskiess @beaann

#skz smau #skz #stray kids smau #stray kids #stray kids social media au #skz social media au #hearts full of honey #honey smau #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smau #hyunjin smau #hyunjin social media au #hwang hyunjin social media au

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slimybeth69 · 2 months ago

Text

Que Será, Será: Part 3

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!!

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?

Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play. Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3.

Chapter 3-

You don’t hear from him or see him at the hardware store for two weeks. The first time he does come in… he doesn’t go through your line or look at you. You didn’t really look either, so he might have. You just kept your eyes on your register and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye when he walked by to leave. It broke your fucking heart that he didn’t even acknowledge you. But why would he? You two don’t talk anymore. It’s hard but not impossible to keep yourself from crying at work.

The rest of the day drags on. You actually ask your manager if you can do restocking because just standing at the register and hoping that every scared and suntanned hand that comes into your vision belongs to him. It never does. It’s always some other stupid carpenter. Fuck. You’re quitting this job. You’ll quit and just work for Cody. He offered. Would pay you well but you hate IT and would probably have to travel and you don’t like flying. Not one bit. So… maybe you’ll stay here for just a lil while longer. You could move to the back and never have to worry about seeing Joel ever again.

Your shift ends and you don’t see him again. Your partially thankful, partially heartbroken and devastated. You stop at a drive through and get french fries and a full fat coke. The best kind. With all the sugar and carbonation. You sit in the truck and indulge sadly. You think about going home and… putting on that lingerie… you could take a picture and send it to him. Then block his number and break your phone and go jump off a cliff because that is the worst idea you’ve ever had. It’s been an internal and also an external struggle to not text or call him. You want to so badly. So badly. You don’t think he’d answer.

Joel might. He didn’t seem like he wanted to leave that day. He was acting like he could have stayed another night before you two got into your lil disagreement. You could kick yourself for being nosey and whatever the fuck else you are that makes you say dumb shit. No. You stood up for yourself and didn’t get put back into another Jackie Harris situation where you’re getting screamed at in the back of a Dodge Neon at sixteen because you’re scared to lose your virginity.

You should’a done it then because now you’re never going to lose it. Not at this rate.

You roll seven joints when you get home because you need to keep your fingers busy so they don’t accidentally type out a message to him that tells him to come over and kiss you again. As you roll your joints you speak affirmations to yourself out loud.

“You’re worth more than getting screamed at!! Worth more than fingers being pointed in your face calling you fucking worthless. You are worth more than that. So, you’re a very smart girl for kicking that douche--Joel Miller, to the curb. Fuck him. He is a prick.” You snort and feel satisfied because you feel a little better.

You decided to smoke on the porch because it’s so nice out today. You can wear just shorts and a tank top out here. It’s not humid, not sticky. Just hot. You made yourself a drink with your coke from the fast food place and some of Cody’s whiskey. It’s hard to unwind when you cannot stop thinking about him. The way he felt when he was on top of you in the car? The way he kissed you? You had never, ever been kissed like that. It was like he was trying to crawl inside of you through your mouth and it was the hottest thing. You miss it. You could cry.

Let’s not even get started on his cock? Please? It was so beautiful– honestly, the only cock you have ever really wanted to look at. Every other one you have seen was… alright. Nothing to write Dad about– that makes you chuckle aloud, the idea of writing your dear old Dad about all the cocks you see (which really isn’t many) and giving them your ratings and clear descriptions of them. You’d write about how Joel had a thick patch of dark pubic hair right at the base of him, and veins that crept from that base all up and along the thick shaft…he had been so hard– so throbbingly, achingly hard in his hand while he stroked himself. He was red in contrast to the rest of his tanned skin on his fist. The seam of him drooling precome like it got paid to. There was so much of it. So much on his shirt after he was done…

It was so erotic.

You had never done that. Touched yourself for someone and watched them do that!! No! You got naked for Jackie Harris a couple times. Didn’t ever wanna watch him jerk off. You just let him look– store it in his memory for later, you did show him what you looked like with a couple fingers inside you…but that was it. You never finished alongside someone else like that. You honestly… had never finished with anyone before. Some got you almost there, real fucking close but then they’d lose their rhythm or get tired of try. Sometimes not even try because you wouldn’t let them fuck you. Fuck men. Honestly. They all suck.

It gets dark so fast and you think about how you are lonely. You don’t know anyone down here. Sam took off literally two weeks after you got here. You text her.

Hey sisterrrr. I miss u and I know shit is tough for u right now. Im always here… always. Send me pics of u and carter. I don’t gave a shit about cody, tell him i said to go fuck himself. Jk i might be taking him up on that job offer soon. Love you. Text me back this time, ho.

She’s been gone for three months and you have heard from her only once. Every other time you talk to her or even see her is when Cody texts you or facetimes you so that you can see her and know that she is still alive. Carson is growing up and you’re missing out on all that.

Your phone rings. It’s Cody.

“What do you want, you fuckin’ loser,” You sneer into the phone with no real malice. At this point Cody is more of your brother than Paul. That asshole.

“Hey, so… your sister isn’t doin’ good—” He starts but now you’re stiff in your chair.

“What does that mean?” You whisper softly.

“She’s just really depressed. The wellness gurus here at the retreat thinks she needs professional help…like real therapy and shit.” Cody sounds so worried.

“You’re gonna get her—”

“Duh, you fucking asshole. Of course. Literally would chop off my nuts for Samantha if she needed ‘em to get better. Shit. There is a specialist in Germany that is said to be a fuckin’ genie with this postpartum stuff so we’re going to go there for a couple months. Get her a change of scenery.” He sighs.

“That’s good. Real good. I’m glad you guys are able to do all that. Fuck. That’s crazy… is she there?” You ask hesitantly.

“Okay… don’t get upset with her okay?” Cody warns you and your stomach drops.

“What?” You almost don’t wanna know. Why would you be mad at her?

“She’s not talking…” Cody whispers.

“Huh?” You’re unimpressed with his answer.

“She’s… I dunno. On some weird mute shit right now. Only answers me with nods or head shakes.” Cody is sounding more and more hopeless the more he talks about it.

“Like… she’s not talking on purpose?” You’re so utterly shocked by this. That is no Samantha.

“She barely gets out of bed. Doesn’t hold the baby. It’s fuckin’ sad…I feel so bad for her ‘cause she wanted this so…we both did and now, she can’t even enjoy it.” Cody sounds like he’s going to cry.

“Do you want me to fly to Germany to meet you guys?” You offer even though the thought of being on a plane that long makes you want to throw up.

“I appreciate that so much…” Cody sighs and now you are shitting your pants too because it sounds like he wants to do this. “I just dunno… If you think you should, come out here but I know you’re weird with the flying thing.” He is thinking of other solutions. You can hear it in his voice. “We’ll be okay. I got Carson. I’m a good dad, not like your guys’ piece of shit cock-sucking dad. I’m a real dad.” You know Cody is poking his chest real hard when he says this and it makes you roll your eyes.

“I’ll get you a mug or something. An award.” You chuckle into the phone.

“How’s the house? Still standing?” He asks nervously.

“I flooded it. Ruined everything. I’m drinkin’ all your expensive whiskey.” You snicker into the phone and Cody groans loudly.

“I should have locked it up, you bitch. Fuck. I knew you were gonna get into it. Thief!” He exclaims into the phone quietly like he might be a little mad. “What’re you drinkin’?” He sounds less mad and more curious.

“I dunno. Something Macllins or something The Reach 18 or something.” You shrug because you didn’t look at the label.

“You’re fuckin’ lying. I know you’re not drinkin’ it the way you should be. Drinkin’ it with a coke from McDonalds or something stupid.” He grumbles.

“Sure am. How am I supposed to drink that shit?” You snort into the phone.

“Well seeing as how you’re drinking one hundred and twenty five… thousand dollar scotch. That’s been aged for eighty-one fuckin’ years, ya dingus, should be drank neat. One ice cube…if you need it. But should just be drank straight, ya fuck.” He exclaims into the phone.

“You just love talking about how much money you have. It’s gross. I’m surprised Samanatha married you.” You snicker.

“She married me for the money, turdface. Fuck off.” He sounds annoyed and you love it. “Don’t drink anymore of the Macallans. You can drink anything else. I mean it. Seriously. Help yourself to that whole cabinet but I can’t get more of The Reach 81. S’all gone. Gotta wait another eighty one years for more— so stop fuckin’ adding it to watered down coke, you asshole.” Cody almost shouts into the phone.

“We’ll see. Your house is fine. Love you guys. Give Carson and Samantha a kiss for me. Maybe slap my sister a lil for me and see if she snaps back to normal.” Your smirk.

“You’ll have to fly to Germany to do that. I would never. Say outta The Reach, bitch. Love you too. I’ll call you when we get to Munich.” Cody hangs up the phone before you can say anything else.

What a good fucking husband. Doing literally anything and everything for her. Sometimes you’re jealous of Samantha but remember she is going through it right now. She also worked really hard in school and then at college. She worked her asshole right out of her body to get her degree to be a child psychologist. Worked so hard to do that…to then meet Cody who literally had more money than she had ever seen in her whole life. That didn’t make her fall in love with him, not at all. It’s how much fun she had with him. Cody is the life of the party. He’s incredibly smart. Very handsome. Hilarious. Self-deprecating in the best way. He’s a good guy and you’re lucky he’s in your life at any capacity. Cody paid for your entire trip down here. The moving truck you drove down here, paid for all your gas and hotel rooms. Gave up his air conditioned gym to have to work out in the hot ass garage. He’s a good man. A good brother.

Better than Paul.

Your phone dings in your hand. It’s Samantha.

Love you, Squeak.

That’s it. It means more than anything. She calls you that because your mom used to call you that. It makes you smile and get goosebumps. Samantha is still in there somewhere. Hopefully this therapist in Munich can find her and help her back to the surface. You go inside. You do not have to work tomorrow so…you’ll stay up all night and read your true crime blog. Why not? Nothing better to do. You go to change into something a little warmer, it’s cooler inside with the AC on. Your fingers graze the lace material and you can suddenly taste your heartbeat. You touch it again, don’t pick it up… just rub the delicate, light blue lace between your fingers gently.

Ideas come to your head. Familiar ideas. You’ve had this idea before.

Fuck it. The Reach 81 is buzzing around in your head. You put the dainty outfit on before you can chicken out. You go to your full length mirror. It doesn’t… not fit. You have put on a couple pounds since you move down here but it’s not… too small. You’re busting out in all the right places and the fabric digs in and makes you look supple and soft. You pull out your phone and take one of your entire body with your feet pressed together at the toes. The next pose is you on your knees, with your legs spread wide– leaned back so you can get a nice lil look. Nothing is too directly exposed even though the lace is see through. There is a little bit left to the imagination. Except for your nipples and areola. Those are seen directly through the fabric. You turn your camera around and take a picture of you on your back, cupping one of your spilling tits in the bra. You bite your bottom lip an angle the camera so he can see down your body.

You’re feeling so confident because these pictures are… actually really hot. That or you’re a little drunk.

You send Joel Miller all three pictures and put a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie on over the lingerie. It makes you feel hot and sexy and so you don’t really wanna take it off yet. You don’t know what you’re expecting… really.

You’re hoping he texts you or calls you back. You want that.

You don’t think he will though. You just embarrassed yourself and now you have to quit your job at the store or just hope he never, ever comes in again. He might not. You just threw yourself at him via the phone screen. You look desperate and now you hate yourself.

What have you done!?

You go to see if you can delete them, un-send them or something but he looked at them. It says right under the pictures…

Seen 8:22 PM

It’s almost eight thirty now… eight fucking minutes have gone by and he hasn’t answered. He might still be at work… could be. He liked Ava’s pictures before he called you the night he saw you. FUCK. Okay. You’re just going to delete those pictures from your text thread so you can pretend you never sent them. Then you delete them right out of your camera roll. What pictures? You never did anything. Nothing.

You read your blog. Sadly. You wish Joel Miller had been a killer and just murdered you on the side of the road that first night. That had to hurt less than this. You know this is not true. You feel so badly for every victim in these stories. Sometimes they are hard to read but you do it anyway… for whatever reason. It makes you feel something. Sad. Better than nothing. Better than being bored and alone. Ugh. You need another drink.

The Reach 81 goes back in the cabinet because you do not like annoying Cody that much. You reach for a different bottle and grab a can of diet coke from the fridge upstairs because you’re too lazy to go back downstairs to grab a regular coke from your fridge. You don’t wanna do anything ever again. You add ice to your drink when the doorbell rings. Your heart flutters for half a second and then you get so scared. It’s past nine now. Who is ringing your doorbell?? Shit. You have no weapons. Why does Cody have no guns? Fuuuck. You check your phone and there are still no messages from Joel. Or anyone. You get nine one one typed in and ready to call and walk slowly to the front door.

The doorbell rings again.

Ooooooohhhhhh noooooooooo.

Normal people only ring one time.

Crazy people ring twice… fuck. Okay. Everything is fine. You can talk real fast if you need to yell your address to the operator.

You fling the door open and Joel is standing there, shifting his weight between his feet nervously, he gives you a sheepish grin. You frown and then so does he.

“What are you doing here?” You ask that way because you had just been terrified and that hasn’t left your body yet. So you’re a little harsh.

“Oh…did you mean to send those sexy ass pictures to someone else or were you fuckin’ teasing me?” Joel sounds genuinely upset.

“I meant to send them to you…but what are you doing here?” You blink up at him and now he’s blinking right down at you too.

“Did you…not want me to come over?” He raises one eyebrow in suspicion and maybe confusion.

“I thought you’d text me back first.” You explain to him dully. Joel stops shifting his weight and his eyes flash from left to right three times before he looks at you again.

“Yeah. I should’a done that. I’m sorry.” He stands at the open door just looking down at you. You dunno what to say now that he is here…right here in front of you!! You thought if you ever talked to him again it’d be over text or the phone. Not in person. You can’t help yourself when he is…right here. “You want me to go?” He throws his thumb over his shoulder to his truck in the driveway.

You shake your head no silently.

The corner of Joel’s mouth turns up slightly.

“You gotta invite me in. I don’t barge.” He shrugs his shoulders and speaks much more calmly and cool than he had been before. He wasn’t nervous anymore.

“Do you wanna come in?” You don’t have any energy inside of you to produce sound so it just comes out in a whisper. He nods silently and side steps you into the house.

“Sorry ‘bout last time.” He slips his boots off and stands in the entryway. His eyes trace along your comfy outfit and he looks almost disappointed for one second and then his eyes flash roguishly. Devilishly.

“I’m not. Thanks for telling me you’re an asshole. Now I can make an educated choice on what I want.” You smirk at him and he takes one step towards you and tries to close the distance but you step back– but now you’re pressed against the closed front door. You sigh softly as he eliminates any distance left between you with two large steps.

“What do you want.” He whispers quietly as his nose grazes across your forehead gently. His words are breath against your closed eyelids. “Tell me what you want, lil girl.” He’s demanding in his soft, throaty whispers.

“You.” You keep your eyes closed but as you speak his hands find your hips and he’s pulling you against him.

“You still got that sexy lil blue thang on under this?” He tugs at the hem or your sweatshirt gently. You still haven't opened your eyes, but his the tip of his nose trawls down the bridge of yours, his lips kiss the tip of your nose as he pass by and then his lips are on yours and he’s hungry for you.

You moan in affirmation that you do still have that lil sexy blue thang on under all this that you’re wearing. His tongue pushes it’s way into your mouth, he doesn’t wait for you to open up for him. He needs you. You’re lips are wet with saliva as your mouths open and close against each others, tongues swirling whenever they can. He pulls away at the sounds of your protesting whines.

“Wanna do somethin’, open your mouth.” He sighs softly his lips still touching yours. You don’t even care why he would want you to do something like that, you’re melting against this door and he hasn’t even really touched you yet. Just kisses you and played with the hem of your sweatshirt. He had one hand on your waist. That was it.

Joel Miller spits into your open mouth. Loudly. You are appalled and pull away from him in horror. You want to spit it back at him but he closes your jaw with his strong hand.

“Swallow it fer’ me, sexy lil thang.” He growls softly in that deep, country twang he has. You mindlessly swallow and then are even more horrified that you just did that!! What!!

“What was that!?” You exclaim in annoyance. “Spitting into my mouth?” You’re offended that he thought you’d like that…. You didn’t wanna like it. Not at all. But you did kinda. Liked the way he smirked at you when you swallowed it. Loved how he growled at you.

“Didn’t like it? I won’t do it again… I’m sor—” Joel does look sorry and like he feels really bad.

“No. It’s fine.” You snap at him…because… you don’t know why. “No one’s ever done that to me before.”

“So…you did like it? ‘Cause I fuckin’ love it. You could do it to me too…” He offers with the slightest raise of his eyebrows. “I’d spit more into yer’ mouth if you’d let me.” He whispers softly. This actually horrifies you.

“What does that mean!?” You gasp softly. You make Joel chuckle.

“Want me to tell you? We should go downstairs… n’ you can show me what that lil thang you got on underneath all them clothes really looks like.” Joel wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him.

“Okay.” You sigh softly and let him lead you downstairs to your room. He’s down at the bottom of the steps and you’re on the second to last. He grabs you by the waist, his strong hands dig into your sides as he lifts you. He holds you against his chest and torso as he carries you past the bed and into your makeshift living room.

Joel sets you down in front of the couch, steals a loud, wet kiss from your lips and then makes his way to the couch and sits down with his legs and knees spread wide. He’s comfortable.

“Go slow.” He growls at you with that same mischievous look he had the the last time he was here and chased you. You blink at him. You have on just sweats! The hood of your sweatshirt was up over your head You didn’t look very sexy at all.

“What do you mean? I have two things on! It’ll be over–” You exclaim, pulling the drawstrings of your hoodie tight and closing the hole around your face. Joel is shaking his head and holding his hand up for you to stop.

“Go. Slow.” He shrugs his shoulders when you stop talking. “Simple. Slow.” He tips his head to the side as he shrugs his shoulders. You’re gonna spit on him.

“Fine.” You loosen the drawstrings and pull the hood down and fix your hair so it isn’t frizzy anymore.

“Y’look cute already… are you nervous?” Joel raises one eyebrow slightly as he watches you dance around on your toes nervously.

“No. Why would I be nervous?” You shake your head at him and try to sound offended but you think you actually sound nervous. So, that’s nice.

“I dunno… why would you be nervous?” He chuckles and shifts around on the couch to get comfy. “Drove almost ninety miles an hour to get here.” He jokes but it doesn’t really sound like a joke.

“Why’d it take you so long then?” You flick one eyebrow up at him playful and he’s stunned by this. He has no words, he’s just chuckling but you don’t really like his lack of voice. He’s always got something to say. “Seriously… if you drove that fast… n’ you were home— you should have been here sooner after you saw the pictures.” You eye him doubtfully. The small smirk leaves his face and he sighs.

“I’m never, ever gon’ lie to you if you ask me stuff outright like that. I was with Ava.” He says simply. You had your arms inside your hoodie, getting ready to slowly lift if over your head and show him your sexy outfit but you punch your arms through the sleeves and cross them over your chest. Joel chuckles.

“Ok.” You sigh loudly.

“Why’re you mad? I’m here…” He smirks now and stands. You take a step back but he doesn’t walk towards you. He goes to the light switch and dims the lights dramatically. You can almost barely see him. He comes back to sit on the couch and stretches his legs again, spreading his strong, muscular arms along the back of the couch.

“Is that why it took you so long? ‘Cause you had to finish?!” You accuse him with a pointed finger in his direction. He laughs loudly and shakes his head.

“No. She just lives further from here n’ I had to talk her off the ledge when I told her I didn’t wanna see her anymore.” Joel is smirking. You can see it now that your eyes have adjusted to the dimness of the room. “We weren’t even doin’ nothin’. Jus’ talkin’. ‘Bout to do somethin’...” Joel shugs one shoulder and tips his head again.

You think in your head right now if you have a reason to be mad about this or if you should even believe him.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” You give him another dubious look and tap your foot impatiently even though… you have all the time in the world. You’re off tomorrow. So is Joel. Tomorrow is Saturday so he has all the time in the world too. Shit.

Joel shifts to the left slightly and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. He unlocks it and then tosses it to you without a word. You barely catch it and glare at him for that. You would have felt so bad if you hadn’t caught it and something happened to it!! So embarrassed. You stare at his phone in your hand.

“My lil password or whatever is 072089.” He smiles at you. “S’my daughters birthday… not my other lil girlfriend. Don’t worry.” He winks at you like he’s so fucking funny.

“What do you want me to do with it?” You stare at him as the phone screen goes black in your hand.

“Look through it— since you like doin’ it so much. Look’it the messages from Ava tonight. They’ll prove I’m not lyin’.” He’s got a shit eating grin on his face like you’re going to be so happy with what you find in there you’ll get right on your knees and suck his dick or something.

You tap the screen and the face ID doesn’t recognize you, so you enter the numbers he said to you and his phone unlocks. Okay— he can change his password. He probably will when he leaves here. The message thread from Ava is above yours. She’s currently typing stuff out to him but there are unread messages from her as well.

“She’ll see that you opened them… you have your read receipts on… old man.” You smirk at him but he shrugs.

“Don’t really care.” He still has that stupid grin on his face and you are going to spit on him. You sure will… kinda hopes he does it to you again. Soon. Tonight.

You press Ava’s text thread and there are… countless messages all from within the last forty-five minutes. All the texts are some variation of…

You have to be kidding?

You’re not fucking serious, are you? Is it someone else?

Talk to me. Answer my calls.

Just walk out? Really? We were having a good, real talk for the first time and all of a sudden you just have to leave? With no explanation?

Ava starts to call him before you can read any more. You blink at the phone vibrating in your hands.

“She callin’ again?” Joel asks casually. “You can ignore it. You could answer it…but that’ll just piss her off… n’ she’d probably show up to my house…smash my windows or something.” Joel isn’t grinning anymore, but he sounds like he means what he’s saying. Like you could really answer it if you wanted.

“I don’t wanna talk to her.” You hold the phone back to him but he holds his hands up like he doesn’t want it either.

“I said what I wanted to say. There isn’t nothin’ she can say that’s gonna change my mind.” Joel shrugs again and stretches his back, arching his chest towards the ceiling as you hold his still vibrating phone in your hands. It stops vibrating and then immediately starts up again. She called him right back.

“Change your mind about what?” You ask softly, setting the phone down on the TV stand behind you but it just buzzes and skitters across the glass noisily. You pick it up and stare at it and then you silence the call. You stare at the black screen and it lights up again!! She called Joel again!! You set the phone down on the black, faux fur rug in your mini living room. It’s quiet and doesn’t move. You push it far away from you with your big toes.

Scary.

“I’ll tell you… I’ll tell you everything … but you gotta start taking them clothes off— real slow.” Joel draws the last two words out for so long before they end and he licks his bottom lip just as slow. You swallow hard.

“Okay…” You whisper because what does everything mean? You’re so scared. You pull one arm into the sweatshirt slowly and Joel starts to talk.

“I only saw her again ‘cause I didn’t think you wanted to see me.” He speaks quietly and calmly as you pull the other arm into the sweatshirt. Your finger the hem by your waist slowly and pull it up just an inch and expose the baby blue lace fabric that covers your skin. It’s so thin you’re immediately stricken with goosebumps as the cool air from the AC touches you. Joel keeps talking. “So… when you texted me those pictures— shiiit. I had to get outta there… but I knew I wasn’t gonna wanna see her again. So I told her that I had come over there to break things off… even though we weren’t really talking like we were about to break things off.” Joel admits quietly.

“What were you talking about?” You almost coo to him even though you don’t really wanna know!! You pull the hem of your sweatshirt up another inch and the intricate, delicate design of the lace starts to appear. Blue isn’t really… your best color but it was just so pretty that you couldn’t stop looking at it while you were shopping for new bras. It was this blue color or pink— that looked worse on you. Joel sighs softly as he sees more of whatever you’re hiding from him under those baggy clothes.

“Nothin’ crazy– honestly. Just tellin’ her ‘bout my day which I never do… then my phone goes off n’ I look at it… go wide eyed… and then tell her I don’t wanna see her anymore. She’s a lil confused. Probably a lil pissed off.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “She knew what I wanted from her. Knew all along..”

“You sure about that?” You pull the sweatshirt up and little higher and now the curve of your breast in the lace is visible. Joel makes an audible sound as he exhales. It’s not a groan or a moan. Barely a hum. It makes you smirk when he licks his lips again and has to readjust on the couch. He has to pull his jeans away from his groin with his fist.

“She knows. Why you think that’s all our texts are ‘bout?” He nods his head towards the phone that is still ringing. She’s called him non stop.

“You said it turns her on…” You pinch your brows and stop lifting your sweatshirt. Your nipples are just barely hidden. Joel speaks a little more rushed than he had been speaking earlier.

“S’also the only type of text I respond to from her… We don’t talk outside of what happens in the bedroom.” He shrugs.

“Okay. I don’t wanna talk about her anymore.” You grumble and feel annoyed and wanna put your clothes back on.

“Okay. But that was the the first time I saw her since we stopped talkin’...” Joel trails off and lets you put the pieces together for yourself. He hasn’t slept with her since then.

“Again… how do I know you’re not lying?” You ask nervously, your arms are still hovering right below your chin, about to take the sweat shirt off but you had paused when you caught him in what you thought was another lie!

“You ain’t gotta trust me. Really. I don’t care. It’ll just get annoying after a while.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and adjusts himself in his jeans carefully. “I gave you the all the evidence right there. Messages’ll show the last time I even liked one of those pictures she send…” Joel lifts his eyebrow. “I ain’t lyin’ to you, Little Birdie. Relax a little.” He whispers. “Show me how pretty you look.” He coos to you.

You pull the sweatshirt off your body and toss it to the floor, covering Joel’s phone in the process. He grins stupidly.

“Hell yeah.” He sounds happy, like… really happy with what he sees. “Got damn, you are fuckin’ beautiful. Them pictures didn’t do you justice.” He shakes his head no slowly. You’re blushing. So fucking hard.

“What else would you spit in my mouth?” You ask quietly as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the sweatpants. Joel holds his hands up to you and speaks quickly.

“Hold on!! Lemme get comfortable.” He stands quickly and undoes his belt and the button of his jeans quickly. You sigh as he pushes his pants to the floor and steps out of them so he’s just in his boxers and a black t-shirt. He looks so fucking hot. Fuck. You hate him for how attractive he is. “Okay… what did you ask me?” He asks, one of his strong hands slides to the bulge between his legs.

“W-What else would s-spit in my mouth?” You’re stammering as you watch him tease himself through the fabric. His big– ridiculously big- hand gropes himself gently and just tugs. Pulling his cock away from his body as it continues to harden. You’re almost drooling because you forgot to swallow. You forgot everything. You don’t even know why you’re standing up here. You look down and remember you were doing something for him. Okay.

“You like t’get freaky? You like it rought n’ shit? Kinda kinky?” He asks as his fist squeezes himself through his boxers gently. You’ve never done anything even remotely kinky. Nothing. The most kinky thing you ever did was literally what you were doing right now…and what you did with the same man sitting in front of you, two weeks ago in his truck. So, apparently you do.

“Yes.” You answer quickly before it becomes a painfully long time of you being quiet, staring at him. He snorts softly and works on his erection slowly and gently.

“Go just as slow with them pants… n’ maybe spin a lil so I can see the back when you bend over.” He orders gently with his cloth clad dick still in his hand. His voice is steady though. He’s not overly excited and you like that.

“Okay.” You hook your thumbs in the waistband again and pull just the front of the waistband down and give him a little preview of your mound and the very top of your slit. Joel inhales sharply and his hips move a little on the couch but then settle.

“So after I fuck you—”

Joel says this so casually because he’s done it one thousand and ten times. So… it means nothing to him. But when he says I fuck you like that isn’t the most intense statement you’ve ever heard in your life. Especially because you’re seen his cock. It’s pretty big. You’re… inexperienced? Tight probably… going to be torn in half and now you’re so nervous but you listen to what this scary man is going to do to you after he fucks you.

“--I’ll probably come all over that fuckin’ pretty lil pussy—unless you’re on the pill…” He gives you a questioning look but you shake your head. He doesn’t care. “-doesn’t matter… after spread my come all over you, n’ make sure you feel what I did to you…” Joel pauses as you turn around so you’re back is to him– you wish he wouldn’t. You’re blushing so fucking hard he’s going to know you’re a virgin because what!? You’ve never heard anyone talk like that. Not even in porn.

You read it in a fanfiction once!! You didn’t think people spoke like this in real life, Jesus fucking Christ. Okay. You push the back of the sweatpants down the curve of your ass and Joel groans softly in appreciation. You bend at the waist— who does that? Who takes their pants off this way? No one. You slowly let the gray fabric slide down your thighs, revealing the stockings your still have on. Joel gives you another slow, happy growl from his throat.

“Then once you’re nice n’ sticky… I’ll go down there n’ clean you up.” Joel says simply. You look around at the wall and TV in front of you and frown. What does that mean? Where does the spitting come into it? You turn just your head and look at him over your shoulder. His cock is out of his boxers through that flap in the middle. He’s not even really stroking. Just holding his cock in his hand as he takes you in. He flicks his eyes to you frowning at him in confusion. “Lick you clean.” Joel clarifies for you.

You have to snap your head back to the TV that isn’t on and try to keep your composure because what!? He wants to do what!? Lick his own release off your cunt after he fucks you and then he does what??

“Then you spit that into my mouth?” You figure it out for yourself but still need him to tell you as the sweatpants reach your ankles.

“Yup. Love doin’ it.” He chuckles softly. “Dunno why, think it’s real hot.” He sighs as you stand straight and turn to face him even though your face is still beet red. You feel so badly that he's been so honest with you about everything. So upfront, too. Shit. You feel like such an asshole. You have to tell him. Have to before this gets too out of hand. You cannot let him fuck you and traumatize you!! You're already traumatized by Jackie Harris!! Shit!!!

“I’m a virgin..”

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